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18 November 2005


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That poem about sums it up.

How more grim can it get?

A lot, I suppose.

Michael Murry

I once served in the Fig Leaf Contingent, so I understand and rage in frustrated sympathy as I see it once more deployed: this time as the Buy Time Brigade.

I have no reason for immediate hope, but I do see some signs of longer-term possibilities. Meanwhile, I go on writing my poems. I promised myself a long time ago that I would never forget my friends and high school classmates who perished in a misguided crusade. Some well-meaning people have counseled me many times to "just forget about it." I always reply that if I ever once let them escape my memory, then I will lose them forever. So I go on remembering. Only in that way can I keep even a little part of them alive for a little while longer.

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