Yesterday I was showering at 11am, so missed the two minutes' silence. I'm pretty sure I was being silent though, so I think I showed respect in my own way: lathering my naked body.
Despite leaning quite a way to the left (politically, not in the shower), it's difficult to dispute the worthiness of the day. The tragedy and idiocy of war is something that we can't afford to forget. As the last survivors of the Good War are now passing on, there is a danger of the butchery becoming a historical event, rather than a modern and all-too-recent example of how primitive the human race can be.
However, I do have a few reservations about the occasion. First and foremost is the legend displayed on war memorials all over the country: 'The Glorious Dead'. This is utterly despicable. There's nothing glorious in being forced to die for an arbitrary division of land, for a flag, or for a crown-wearing OAP. There should be no misty-eyed reminiscence of the honour and bravery of those who fought (although I'm sure both qualities were displayed), as it adds to the ideal that honour and bravery can be expressed through murder.
Secondly, and related to the first, is the idea that creating a ceremony out of the event, is a way of distancing ourselves from the event. It becomes something that happened, like the Titanic sinking, or a terrible storm, and is divorced from the continuum of military decisions that is still ongoing. A lot of people criticised the pardoning of executed deserters a while ago because it seemed like a way of absolving ourselves of guilt, even in the light of much more recent, and equally pointless conflicts. Of course we should remember, but we should also understand what caused the deaths of all these people, so we can avoid it happening again.
But we're not very good at learning these lessons, so are happy to wear a poppy and send the modern equivalents of those poor young men (imagine Sigfried Sassoon, but with more gold jewellery and texting) to the desert to fight for oil and to protect against crazy dragons and egg-facing facts.
If the solemnity and genuine regret that we see expressed every 11/11 was taken on board, as politicians lay wreaths, it should hammer home the point that if you're sending people to war, you'd better be fucking sure it's for a good reason (or that we'll be able to wipe out the bearded opposition easily enough to be home in time for X-Factor).
As a side note, I really don't understand people who offer the old cliche 'even if you don't support the war, support the troops'. What does that even mean? It probably means we hope that they don't die. Presumably, in that case, we all support the troops. I don't want our soldiers to die. I don't want any soldiers to die. I don't like war. I quite like people.
Except (and this is a bit awkward to admit), the people in this case are people that willingly joined the armed forces, in a time when we are not under attack by an army (fighting terrorism is not a war), accepting that they must follow the dubious morals of our leaders. I don't want anyone to die, but if you sign up to an organisation will require you to murder people, you don't get any special affection from me.
And finally, because this entry hasn't been very well thought out, and has been short on jokes, I fully endorse Jon Snow's refusal to wear a poppy. If people died for our freedom, surely that freedom includes not being forced to grieve in a uniform fashion; obligated to mourn in a particular way. It reminds me of Kramer and the AIDS ribbon:
After writing that, I realise why I don't write about serious stuff much.
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