Tuesday, November 16, 2004

Old Eyes

Da Goddess has a post and pictures up on a Protest Warrior excursion. I tried to snag one of her photos, but either she has them protected or else I just don't know how to do it.

But go here, and - excuse me for speaking this way but I am moved -

look upon this ancient warrior, who has fought on foreign soil and in his golden years steps forth again, to stand straight and tall for the same ideals for which he fought as a young man. This time, he fights a quieter fight, but one on his own soil, against those he fought to protect so many years ago.

Where is the poet that can honor such a man? Where is the artist who can capture such dedication, such irony?

May the Good Lord bless him and keep him.

Where is the moralist, the philosopher, who can reach the Code-pinkers and their ilk, transport them from where they are now - screeching on the streets of San Diego in 2004, screeching against the very idealism that makes this ancient warrior what he is - transport them away, to an alternate 2004 where no such warriors had existed 40, 50 years ago?

Surely, God or perhaps Satan looks at the human race and laughs at us.

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