Keeping It Real

Many bright threads,
From where I couldn't see,
Were running through the harp-strings
Rapidly,

And gold threads whistling
Through my mother's hand.
I saw the web grow,
And the pattern expand.
--Ballad of the Harp-Weaver, Edna St. Vincent Millay
________

We have had the pleasure of coming to know fellow blogger Minstrel Boy [of Harp and Sword] both from his online writing and through personal correspondence. MB is a decorated Vietnam veteran, who continues to serve his country in myriad ways.

Over the past year, he has written some poignant pieces commemorating his losses in connection with war, both then and now. Today, he is playing music at the funeral of another fallen soldier, as he has done several times before. He has written his reasons here, and it merits a read.

"In three short hours I will be playing yet another funeral for a fine young man who has fallen due to the misguided policy and schemes of George W. Bush and also because of the craven cowardice or callous cynicism of the Congress that refuses to do their duty.

". . .I'm doing this because it hurts."

His thesis is, if we participated, we would become awake in such a jarring manner that being complacent would no longer be possible. He is advocating for a participatory democracy, and a truly shared grief.

Each soldier's death should prick the conscience: why was the soldier there? Did he or she so love his country that he volunteered out of sheer patriotism? For some, yes. And the country has let him down, by allowing his death in pursuit of a chimera.

Did they join for educational benefits? For many, yes. And this indicts a system which places great hardship on all but the wealthiest students.

In the post, MB mentions another blogger, Liz at Blondsense, who recently cited a survey showing that middle-aged Americans are engaging in risky behavior once thought exclusive to the young. She posited the question, Why?

In the survey, 50% of newly diagnosed AIDS cases in 2005 were in the middle-aged group. They are old enough to know better, but perhaps smug enough to feel immune. After all, they do not consort with dirty people who have track marks; their friends take their clothes to the cleaners, own cars and houses nicely appointed with good furniture. But if they personally knew someone so afflicted -- and realized some entirely functioning and attractive people have AIDS -- might that change their behavior?

Maybe they think they can buy or finagle their way out of any trouble they might find. That attitude is ignorance in the young, but arrogance in the more mature. You can only be arrogant if you haven't woken up, and that is what MB is talking about. Wake up.

You can enjoy your Chateau Lafite Rothschild in Provence while sleepwalking. You can copulate, procreate, equivocate, prevaricate and vegetate all while in this liminal state. You can postpone making the hard senatorial votes for a later day.

But you can no longer remain unmoved when you awaken. You can not use people then, because you feel the pain.

Thank you, Minstrel Boy, for what you do when you play at the funerals takes a rock hard constitution. It is generous and decent, and honorable. Thanks for being a participant, and not just a spectator.


--Lisa