It's a pity.

Poor, sad old man. Blasting off random bursts at his 'enemies' on the
newsgroup. Perhaps a bout of 1950s-comms-induced PTSD awakened him
from his restless, fitful nap late this afternoon. It is indeed
heartbreaking to see the ravages of time on someone who was probably
so vital and important in their youth. A real tragedy. Firing off 28
postings in a row, in a valiant effort to smite his those who refuse
to cowtow. Fighting in the blind. The last vanguard against the
sullied and ignorant opinions of the unwashed masses of
rec.radio.amateur.policy, and other important theatres of combat. The
pathfinder for the hopelessly dinky-dow. Dudley Do-Right, trying to
save his Nell.

Still swinging at ghosts. PTSD - induced firefights in the newsgroup.
Endless torment - always in danger of having his newsgroup position
overrun. "Incoming !!! Incoming !!! Stand by - returning Usenet
message fire !!! Budda-Budda-Budda-Budda !!!!!. Can't get 'em all,
though - too many incoming messages - Can't read 'em all...they're too
long !!!!!. Ambush !!!! - We've got Hams in the wire !!. Pick your
targets, Men, Just hit the ones you can easily kill ! FOLLOW ME !
AIIIIIIEEEEEEE !!!!"

Frustrated. Still unable to score a hit. One shot, no kill. A
hundred shots, still no kill. Oh, what would he give for a victory? -
the sweet taste of conquest! What would he give to make them listen -
to understand? "WHY won't they LISTEN?????????"

And lastly, the big one. Tarnishing one's honor in meaningless online
arguments, in the hope that someone somewhere out there will agree.
Or submit. Or convert to his way of thinking. To see things from his
perspective. To comprehend his point, however small, as it is
important to him! "To just DO WHAT I SAY!!!!!!!!!!!"

Still searching for the right words to make himself understood. But,
the right words fail him. And, tragically, losing his perception of
reality, and believing that, if it doesn't have a name, it cannot be
real. If you can't see it, it isn't there. Imperceptible. Not
tangible. Not defeatable. Kicking a** and taking names - that's what
young soldiers do, isn't it? - . But the old, the infirm, the
surplus, the forgotten, and those looking at the last few miles (nay,
perhaps yards) of life's long road - what is reality for them? Is it
only what can be touched? Or seen? Or dominated? Or attacked? Or
convinced? Oh, sweet reality - what are you, really? "WHAT IS YOUR
NAME ???????? WHO ARE YOU ?????????"

And, inevitably, the question of honor - possibly the most enduring
trait that defines a man, and the last one to be bartered for the
short-lived rush of Usenet group acceptance. The last one to be cast
off in the pursuit of newsgroup gratification. The final frontier.
Down to the last dollar. Craps, you lose.

For the best contemporary definition of honor, we need only look to a
famous military organization that best personifies that word:

"Honor guides Marines to exemplify the ultimate in ethical and moral
behavior; to never lie cheat or steal; to abide by an uncompromising
code of integrity; respect human dignity; and respect others. The
quality of maturity, dedication, trust and dependability commit
Marines to act responsibly; to be accountable for their actions; to
fulfill their obligations; and to hold others accountable for their
actions. "

But this is far too harsh a standard in our modern-day civilian world.
We as a society give latitude, however, to the older members of our
group. Sometimes, they lie. Not intentionally - I'm certain that they
honestly believe they are reciting fact from memory, a memory that is
now growing fragile and occasionally fuzzy and distorted. And
sometimes, they become impatient and forget to respect human dignity
(after all, society owes them a debt of gratitude for the
contributions of a lifetime!, doesn't it? Of course we do!). Or to
accord others the respect and dignity that they deserve. And,
ironically, the older folks tend to hold others accountable for their
actions, to a level that mainstream society is often uncomfortable
with. Even when doing do is in violation of the rules of polite
society.

But, this is not an affliction. Or a disease. Or the slightest bit
unnatural. It is simply the logical, natural progression of life as
God intended it to be - perhaps cruel, but it is a road that we all
must travel someday. No way out!

So, Stand Down, Old Soldier - we understand! We appreciate everything
that you have done for us, and we will make it our goal to make your
twilight years comfortable. And happy. And fulfilling. No matter
what. If you cannot always see your way clear to respecting others,
or keep the old facts straight from time to time, that's OK. We
understand!

We're here to help you to be all that you can possibly be, OM - if you
will just let us!

Two things in life of of paramount importance right now. People to
depend on. And Depends. You will never run out of either, not as
long as we are here!!!!!

73 and 88, OM Leo

PS - I'm sure other folks on the newsgroup will check in with you from
time to time, and make sure that you're OK. There's nothing like
reassurance to get the elderly through frightening and frustrating
times. Constant reassurance - its the only way!


On 24 Sep 2003 21:42:22 GMT, (Len Over 21) wrote:

In article , Leo
writes:

And the tree, both the one that made the sound and the metaphoric
'tree' referred to in the posting is very much still there!

Irrelevant. You don't exist in reality. Therefore you would not make
any sound.

You DO make a lot of noise, though, but it is random, just QRM.

WHO are you, anonymous one?

Did your courage of convictions also fall?