The sub-head displayed for an image on the New York Times website shatters the hope for optimism:
Matt Chase, New York Times
In a pessimistic era, a temporary, tenuous pause to fighting has become the most anyone is trying to achieve.
A brief interruption. A misleading respite from the brutality of warfare, meant to convince observers that the initiators of the conflict are—at their core—gentle pacifists who crave the placidity of tolerance and embrace.
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Misguided. Misdirected Misinformed. Sent into battle with a single objective and only one acceptable alternative: kill or be killed. Trained to view death on the battlefield as the only acceptable way to die. Taught that old age is the province of cowards who retreat from the glory of battle. The embrace of spiritual culpability, they say, is the only path to righteous indignation. For reasons unknown to me, I have used various forms of the word “repository” in several pieces I have written for this blog of the years. And here is it again:
“…strong enough to carry them to the edge of the widest valley and the deepest repositories of thunder.”
Who can explain for me where I can find “repositories of thunder?” I think I can find multiple answers to innumerable questions if only I can locate these “repositories of thunder.”
Finally, in closing, I want to clarify that, yes, I posted on Facebook this morning, “Her only other unusual feature was a nine-foot-long tail that was infested with yellow thermomagnetic scorpions.” You know, in case there was any question.
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Short posts, laden with absurd gibberish, are more demanding than you might think. But you probably knew that, didn’t you?
