Monday, August 11, 2014

Have no friends not equal to yourself. (Confucius)

.....It was on August 6, 1945 that the United States dropped an atomic bomb called "Little Boy" on Hiroshima, Japan. It was carried on a B29, called Enola Gay, flown by Paul Tibbets.  This attack killed an estimated 80,000 people. By the end of the year, injury and radiation brought total casualties to 90,000–140,000. Approximately 69% of the city's buildings were completely destroyed, and another 7% severely damaged.  The bomb, of course, was dropped without concern about the civilian population, including women and children.  This was war, of course.  And we didn't start it.
 
......Now was there concern for these civilians?  Of course there was.  But did our President care about that?  No, he was protecting our country.  Is there concern about Israel bombing Gaza and killing, they say, about 1900 people, and also suffering a loss of many IDF soldiers?  Is Hamas sending rockets over Israel? Should "Bibi" care about bombing Gaza and killing civilians? No. It's a war. And that's why it is said war is hell.  And Israel didn't start it.

.....When WWII started and when I enlisted in 1943, I vowed that whatever I did, I did with a goal of excellence, whether it involved cleaning 50 caliber machine guns or a pot in the kitchen. When I went to college I vowed to go as far as I could and whatever I did I tried to excel.  When I taught high school and college, I told my students to work with ruthless personal standards of excellence.  And they tried. 

.....And now my good friends--if any are out there besides my "regulars" who comment with feedback about what I write, I can no longer write the way I once did. In fact, my writing sucks.  First, I cannot remember all the fine expressive English vocabulary, and secondly, I have a tremor in my fingers which holds me back from doing anything that excels.  If I can't excel with what I write, I no longer wish to write.  Just for the record, I've written almost 600 posts which have engendered almost 2000 comments. I know when the game is over.
 
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4 comments:

  1. Nonsense, good writing is about communicating and you continue to possess the ability to express profound feeling, logic and principle. No, you're not the same; it would be a tragedy if you didn't evolve with age, experience and change of lifestyle and we're all the better for it.

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  2. ruth.grimsley@virgin.netAugust 11, 2014 at 10:45 PM

    No! No!! No!!! We want MORE Baron! Even if the Baron feels he isn't as good at writing as he was, he's STILL lots better than nearly everyone else.
    That's right: Israel didn't start the war in 1968, or the Yom Kippur war a few years later. The Arabs and Palestinians couldn't win the wars and drive the Jewish people into the sea, as they wanted to. In fact, so ill-judged were their actions that they lost territory as a result. Well, tough titty. There's an awful lot of tough titty in the world: why is this bit of it occasioning so much hostility? Anti-Semitism must be the explanation of this: there can be no other. Back off, world! Give an inch to the Muslims, and the next thing we know, they'll be wanting Greece back (it was under Ottoman rule for centuries) and then it'll be Spain (which was likewise under Moorish rule.) If the bleeding-heart idiots here in the west had their way, the whole world would end up a Muslim hell-hole. Not a square centimetre should be given up, unless Israel decides independently and of her own volition that it's not in her long-term strategic interests to hold on to the occupied territories: and "that's it and all about it" as we say over here. Cuzzin Ruth

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  3. Excelling is all relative. Your writing might not be as it was when you were 1/3 your present age, and your hands might shake a bit, but for a 90-year old writing a blog on the Internet, you must realize that THAT is excelling! So you should continue -- just write fewer words when the hands shake. There's actually a way to "type" by speaking into a microphone, and then just going back and editing any problems.

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  4. Satisfaction in Life described in short style

    I can now drive to Linburgers restaurant, with my trusty medical scooter on one charge of electricity, for the best hamburger in South Florida.

    On the shelf, where I seldom look, I found the salve to cure my coccyx itch.

    I finally lost my desire to explain to the folks who thank me for my military service, that I didn't have much to do with it, since I was never sent to a combat zone, during the Korean War.

    Living with Prostate Cancer after radical chemotherapy and radiation, I don't care if my description of sex can be explained by attempting to play pool with a rope. I'm alive.

    I'm getting used to the loneliness.

    My friendship with the Baron and RH+ endures.

    Mike Herbstman

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