Veterans Day 2008

November 12, 2008

In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.


May we never break faith with them. Be sure to check out these interesting color photos from WWI. Extraordinary–I’d never seen color photos that old. Thanks to all of our brave veterans, including my father (Korea) and my brother (Gulf War I and II). Thanks to all those who serve now–you are not forgotten, and there are many, many millions of us here in the US that are amazed by your bravery and want to stand behind you for victory. Come home soon, and may you come home in victory. God bless all of you.

Blogging from an undisclosed location tonight (hey, was that Dick Cheney who just walked by?). It’s lovely here. I’m whipped, though, so not many exciting thoughts. I was thinking of the NYT publishing military secrets yesterday. Keep this in mind–the mainstream media has no problem leaking government secrets, while at the same time the LA Times suppressed a videotape showing Mr. Obama, William Ayers, and Bernardine Dohrn praising PLO hack Rashid Khalidi. That’s a funny interpretation of the people’s right to know. Do you really want these media to be the ONLY media once the Fairness Doctrine is put in place? In other news, Circuit City went tits up, which came as a surprise to no one, and the government shows every sign of bailing out the auto industry even as AIG spends some of its bailout money on bonuses. Know how I said yesterday that I have many substantive gripes with President Bush–here’s one. He spends the people’s money like it’s going out of fashion–to compare him with a drunken sailor is an insult to drunken sailors, who at least carouse on their own dime. the bailouts WILL NOT STOP. Once we prop up GM and Ford, the airlines will have heir hands out and who knows after that? I have an idea–why don’t we make the country’s laws and taxes favorable to business, stop giving loans to people who can’t afford to pay them back, and let failing companies fail while easing the way for other, more vigorous concerns to take their place? I know, that’s crazy talk.

Vital stats:Dow down 177 to 8694. I said before the election that I thought the Dow would lose at least 2000 points between Election Day and Inauguration Day as investors ran for the exits in response to the threat of crippling capital gains taxes. In the past week, the Dow has lost 934 points. Silver down $0.39 to $9.75, and gas is $2 a gallon.

Rand of the Day (Part Two, Chapter VI: Miracle Metal)(Atlas Shruggedis set in an alternative 1950s where all of Europe has become Communist.  Hard to imagine, I know. In this scene, a union leader is talking about the worth of intellectuals): Your kind of intellectuals are the first to scream when it’s safe–and the first to shut their traps at the first sign of danger. They spend years spitting at the man who feeds them–and they lick the hand of the man who slaps their drooling faces. Didn’t they deliver every country of Europe, one after another, to committees of goons, just like this one here? Didn’t they scream their heads off to shut out every burglar alarm and to beak every padlock open for the goons? Have you heard a peep out of them since? Didn’t they scream that they were the friends of labor? Do you hear them raising their voices about the chain gangs, the slave camps, the fourteen-hour workdays and the mortality from scurvy in the People’s States of Europe? No, but you do hear them telling the whip-beaten wretches that starvation is prosperity, that slavery is freedom, that torture chambers are brother-love and that if the wretches don’t understand it, then it’s their own fault that they suffer, and it’s the mangled corpses in the jail cellars who’re to blame for all their troubles, not the benevolent leaders! Intellectuals? You might have to worry about any other breed of men, but not about the modern intellectuals: they’ll swallow anything.


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