they could’ve been me.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

Lest we forget.

People have mocked me for taking ANZAC Day so seriously, especially as a pacifist and an unabashed leftie (I’ve dried my eyeliner at one time with a monthly socialist newspaper — you do the math as to where my political leanings are); aren’t you supposed to be not glorify war? To which I always want to give someone a withering look and an earbashing about how critical thinking has died an ignominious death, but I’ll just put it simply: ANZAC Day, to me (and probably a lot of other people), has nothing to do with glorifying war, but remembering the men and women (and CHILDREN — some of those volunteers lied about their age) who died senselessly in every horrible war that Australia’s been involved in. All of them. I never want to forget them, their sacrifice, their pain…and the fact that we’re still doing this. Still. “The war to end all wars”…that didn’t happen.

But no one has so far succeeded in singing an epic of peace.
What is wrong with peace that its inspiration does not endure and that it is almost untellable?

And I am so, so sorry we let those Nazi fucks back in.

Come in Spinner!

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