Digital Common Sense

I’m finding the last couple of weeks or so to be relevant and redefining in many ways. I’ve often noted how some of the people I’ve read for so long have lost their appeal for me. Not the folks I call good friends, but many that I’ve read from a distance now seem to have so little to say. They’ve lost their voices and have no relevance.

But new voices beckon everywhere I turn. I find them on the left, the right, behind me, but so often they’re ahead. Forward. In the last week or two I’ve realized that almost every new blog I add, whether to the link bar on the right, or my Bloglines subscription, is a non-white, non-male, non-A-list sort of voice. And the thing is that these voices (Elisa, Eleanor and Mary, seem to fit so comfortably with old friends like Elaine, Jeneane and Frank.

Then this evening I stumble across Sentinel 47: Keeping the Gate. I’m not sure where I saw the link. Only that I was riveted. You really need to read to appreciate - Two months shy of giving myself the promised end to my service in the National Guard, I was mobilized for deployment to Iraq. Total service for such a call-up is a maximum of 24 months, minimum 12 months in country. Herein lie the stories of this Desert Daughter, Woman-soldier, commissioned officer — A VIEW FROM THE FRONT GATE.

I read this young woman’s posts. Few and recent, for she was only just deployed from the look of it. Yet, I’m compelled to read, and to link. To support. To say thank you for watching the gate. Having been there, at the gate, years ago, when the gate was along the coastlines of southeast Asia, I do both appreciate and understand the sacrifice it takes to be a guardian of those gates. And we who’ve been there salute and respect those who serve today.

Only to read later in the evening that this young woman serving in country is Mary’s daughter Tommi. We come full circle. Circles within circles, weaving together a tapestry of kinship that serves as our steel armor mesh against the insanities of the world.

Friends. New and old. Near and far. Yes, male and female. But friends who share a bond in many ways. It reminded me to go copy and revisit an old post -

This day is called the feast of Crispian: He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named, And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, And say ‘To-morrow is Saint Crispian:’ Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars. And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’ Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot, But he’ll remember with advantages What feats he did that day: then shall our names. Familiar in his mouth as household words Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester, Be in their flowing cups freshly remember’d. This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remember’d; We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition: And gentlemen in England now a-bed Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

Filed by Ken at 10:59 pm under General