Re: Patriotism and Citizenship

From: Eugen Leitl (eugen@leitl.org)
Date: Wed Sep 04 2002 - 12:38:47 MDT


On Wed, 4 Sep 2002, Brian D Williams wrote:

> There is no other job in this or any other country that even begins
> to approach, or compare, with the life of a soldier.

Yeah, you get to play with cool hardware, see the world, blow up stuff and
kill furriners. Chicks so dig you. Plus, there are the perks. Life's
good, basically.
 
> It is infinitely more honorable. I do not expect you to see or
> understand this. The difference is what makes a soldier.

You seem to have completely foresaken rational discourse here.
Essentially, you state only soldiers can understand and judge soldiers.
Because we're so hardass 31337, and shit. Everybody else is subhuman. Nice
device.
 
> I was always opposed to the draft, in fact got in quite a bit of
> trouble for stating that view publically while I served.

I agree. Gross scale destruction and carnage should be left to the
well-seasoned professionals.
 
> If you choose not to serve that is your choice, but the fact is
> someone else is paying, or paid, the price of citizenship for you.

Hm-hm. Color me a whore, I guess. Even if you don't take out the trash
yourself, remember to pay homage to those who do. It's a shitty job, but
somebody's got to do it.
 
> No, not just me, I was joining a long line of patriots whose
> service I appreciated. It was my turn.

I'm kinda wary of people who identify with their job so much.
 
> My ideals haven't changed, nor my reality been contradicted. I was
> merely pointing out that if certain things were true (they're NOT)
> then the reality would be different.
>
> And yes, I am claiming there is truth here.

Your're running a firmware version dangerously out of date. I recommend a
reflash soonest, as otherwise you could as well issue signed invitation to
the crypt kitties.

http://www.bitmover.com/lm/bugs.html

The Bug Count Also Rises

by John Browne
(Imitation Hemingway Contest Winner)

In the fall of that year the rains fell as usual and washed the leaves of
the dust and dripped from the leaves onto the ground. The shuttles drove
through the rainy streets and took the people to meetings, then later
brought them back, their tires spraying the mist into the air.

Many days he stood for a long time and watched the rain and the shuttles
and drank his double-tall mochas. With the mochas he was strong.

Hernando who worked down the hall and who was large with microbrews came
to him and told him that the ship day was upon them but the bugs were not
yet out. The bugs which were always there even when you were in Cafes late
at night sipping a Redhook or a double-tall mocha and you thought you were
safe but they were there and although Enrico kept the floor swept clean
and the mochas were hot the bugs were there and they ate at you.

When Hernando told him this he asked how many bugs. "The RAID is huge with
bugs," Hernando said. "The bugs are infinite."

"Why do you ask me? You know I cannot do this thing anymore with the
bugs."

"Once you were great with the bugs," Hernando said. "No one was greater,"
he said again. "Even Prado."

"Prado? What of Prado? Let Prado fix the bugs."

Hernando shrugged. "Prado is finished. He was gored by three Sev 2's in
Chicago. All he does now is drink herb tea and play with his
screensavers."

"Herb tea?"

"It is true, my friend." Hernando shrugged again. Later he went to his
office and sat in the dark for a long time. Then he sent e-mail to
Michaels.

Michaels came to him while he was sipping a mocha. They sat silently for
awhile, then he asked Michaels, "I need you to triage for me."

Michaels looked down. "I don't do that anymore," he said.

"This is different. The bugs are enormous. There are an infinity of bugs."

"I'm finished with that," Michaels said again. "I just want to live
quietly."

"Have you heard Prado is finished? He was badly gored. Now he can only
drink herb tea."

"Herb tea?" Michaels said.

"It is true," he said sorrowfully.

Michaels stood up. "Then I will do it, my friend," he said formally. "I
will do it for Prado, who was once great with the bugs. I will do it for
the time we filled Prado's office with bouncy balls, and for the time
Prado wore his nerf weapons in the marketing hall and slew all of them
with no fear and only a great joy at the combat. I will do it for all the
pizza we ate and the bottles of Coke we drank."

Together they walked slowly back, knowing it would be good. As they walked
the rain dripped softly from the leaves, and the shuttles carried the
bodies back from the meetings.



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