Monday, May 30, 2005

THE LAST COMMANDMENT This weekend my wife Elspeth travelled to Kansas City in the company of the SF writers K.D. Wentworth and Melissa Tatum to attend a Science Fiction convention. (K.D. has a great story, Born Again, in the May issue of the Magazine of Fanstasy and Science Fiction, and Melissa's latest will appear in the sequel to Bubba's of the Apocalypse, International House Of Bubbas.) Els happened to run into Selina BUY-MY-BOOK! Rosen. Believe me, it's hard not to run into Selina at a con. Anyway, according to Els, Selina said that as far as she could see, all world religions boil down to a single tenet: Don't be an asshole. She, like me, has founded her own church, the Unified Church of Don't-Be-An-Asshole. It is a church with one dogma, one mantra, one Holy Scripture, one prayer, and one commandment: DON'T BE AN ASSHOLE. I like it. 10:19:36 PM    comment []

Click to view Arlington photo-essay. HONORED GLORY Arlington National Cemetery, July 2004   “Here lies in honored glory an American soldier known only to God…”   Here, lies are solemn.   Here, lies are told in the cadence of boot heels ringing on stone, in the snap of a bolt shooting home in the breech of a polished rifle, held at port arms in white gloved hands.   Here, we fold our flag and tell ourselves the soldier died bravely in a just cause.   Dead men cannot lie. Here, all causes are lost.   Here, the living let stones tell the lies the dead cannot. To sooth sore hearts, tales are told of glory in battle, and courage under fire.   Here, the paths of glory discolor marble a shade of brown like dried blood scuffed into the paving stones by the slow turn and turnabout march of the Guard of Honor in roped off sacred ground in front of the Tomb of the Unknown.   Here, lies are told by Presidents and generals. Here, chiseled stone names no names. Here, the truth lies sleeping under stone.   Under lies, the truth rests, but not in peace. The dead have chisels that cut the heart.   Dana Pattillo   Originally posted August 9, 2004 4:24:18 PM    comment []

MEMORIAL DAY GUEST POET: FRANCIS C. BLOODGOOD (1922-1975) BY SOME HILL Here In the old scars Of cannon wheels locked in anger Let them dig graves Men who are dead in the ground Do not sleep Here When the spring rains Whisper to the wooden crosses Only remember Men who are dead in the ground Do not dream Here If children come with broken flowers Build no iron fences Men who are dead in the ground Are not afraid Note: Francis Bloodgood would my father-in-law, were he alive today. He joined the French Foreign Legion in 1939 or 1940, and served with them in Africa at the beginning of WWII. Later he joined the U.S. Army and fought in the European theater. He was serverely wounded in Germany, a few months before the end of the war in 1945. He was 23 years old. He recovered from his physical wounds, but never from the wounds on his psyche. He was a poet, a writer, and a teacher, and when I have gone through his papers (My wife Elspeth can't bear to do it, so I do this for her), I have read page aftered yellowed page of typewritten poems, dialogues, stories, all attempting to describe, to expiate his experience in the war.  He died by his own hand in 1975. Francis Bloodgood was a casualty of war as surely as if he had died on the battlefield. I wish I could have met him. ADDENDUM: As per Dick Jones and Case Wagenvoord's request, another poem by Francis Bloodgood: SHORTY Shorty is sitting in a hole all alone With a bullet through the head. The cigarette fell out of his mouth And burned a hole in his pants. The rain said: I have washed the sweat from his face And the dirt from his mouth. I have filled his pockets with tears From a cracked sky. The wind said: I have crept through a hole in his helmet And grown cool. I have whispered to his friends Of the coolness. His friends said: We saw Shorty sitting in the hole With a shovel in his hand. Strange, he didn't drop his shovel. I thought: Shovels make a bed in the hills And a grave in old fields. Men lose their dreams But they never lose their shovels. 2:56:49 PM    comment []