"There has never been a just one, never an honorable one - on the part of the instigator of the war. I can see a million years ahead, and this rule will never change in so many as half a dozen instances. The loud little handful - as usual - will shout for the war. The pulpit will - warily and cautiously - object - at first; the great, big, dull bulk of the nation will rub its sleepy eyes and try to make out why there should be a war, and will say, earnestly and indignantly, "It is unjust and dishonorable, and here is no necessity for it."
Then the handful will shout louder.
A few fair men on the other side will argue and reason against the war with speech and pen, and at first will have a hearing and be applauded; but it will not last long; those others will outshout them, and presently the anti-war audiences will thin out and lose popularity. Before long you willsee this curious thing: the speakers stoned from the platform, and free speech strangled by hordes of furious men who in their secret hearts are still at one with those stoned speakers - as earlier - but do not dare to say so.
And now the whole nation - pulpit and all - will take up the war-cry, and shout itself hoarse, and mob any honest man who ventures to open his mouth; and presently such mouths will cease to open. Next the statesmen will invent cheap lies, putting the blame upon the nation that is attacked, and every man will be glad of those conscience-soothing falsities, and will diligently study them, and refuse to examine any refutations of them; and thus he will by and by convince himself that the war is just, and will thank God for the better sleep he enjoys after this process of grotesque self-deception."
sniffing dad
This is wild. I have always liked Keith Richards - the Stones' Ozzy Osbourne. He does things that he seems unaware of how outrageous they are. OMG. That's exactly what my eldest son has done for 32 years!
Smoking Dad's ashes reminds me of an oldish Aboriginal film - in black and white I think - very dark, anyway. It was of three sisters who returned to the house they grew up in to pack up and sell the place after the death of their mother. They didn't get along when they were children and the rich one of the three wanted to get out of the place as quickly as possible, it was so distasteful.
Mum's ashes were on the mantelpiece in the lounge room. The youngest sister was the home-body who was tidying the place and had the vacuum cleaner out. The other two got into a big fight and the vase got knocked off the mantelpiece. The girls kept at it, hitting and yelling and moving across the room and into the next room.
"You spilt Mum!" accusations were flying. When the two of them returned to the lounge room they gasped at their sister finishing the vacuuming.
"Where's Mum?"
"Whattaya mean where's Mum?" and looked at the mantelpiece's empty space.
"You've sucked up Mum!" And she instantly burst into tears and opened the vacuum cleaner and tried to separate Mum from the dust and other grot. Finally all three were laughing hysterically.
I really want to be cremated. Death can be such good fun if you're not stretched out in a box! And I wish that I had written the name of this film down somewhere. I need to watch it again.