From: K4YZ on May 24, 2:42 am


Your vileness in the face of the looming Memorial Day is even more
emphatic than usual...even for you.


...the sun sets on the Tomb of the Unknown Solder as a solitary
figure in a patch-adorned flight suit slowly paces out his lonely
path
of anger, J-38 in one hand, bayonetted USMC soldering iron in the
other. Pre-recorded marine marches softly fill the air,
interspersed
with dits and dahs of a few PCTA morsebirds not yet extinct. The
Tomb of the Unknown Solder is a lonely place, deep in the valley of
neuroses, anger, and frustration. The single sentinel counts
cadennce to himself, muttering "flux you, flux you" between the slow
steps. His fists are clenched, eager to do bottle but only sipping a
cup of unkindness. It is sad but the sentinel at the Tomb of the
Unknown Solder keeps going. He does not know why and that is the
tragedy. The sun slowly sets on the Tomb of the Unknown Solder
leaving only the red light of fire in the eyes of the muttering
sentinel. Those glow in the dark like LED pilot lights. Hatred
lives on in his twilight of despair.

Temper fry.