Narcissistic Blog Disorder

I came across an article once that said most bloggers are narcissistic and that they had an air of self-importance (I can't remember if the writer was male or female but he/she labeled it 'Narcissistic Blog Disorder'). While I do agree that my blog is all about 'me' and 'my life' and 'my interests', I don't feel that I am any more important than anyone else, nor do I feel my blog has given me a sense of self-importance (not any more than I felt before I started blogging anyway).

The article also went on to say that the writer found most bloggers devoid of empathy. I hope that's not me. I think that I have understanding, sympathy, and compassion for others. And I know all my blogger friends are definitely NOT devoid of empathy. They are some of the most understanding, sympathetic, and compassionate people that I have ever had the pleasure to know.

The writer also complained that most bloggers were opinionated. Well, of course we have opinions about different subjects and we voice those opinions, but I don't think that makes us narrow-minded or opinionated! I find most bloggers to be open to comments and accepting of different viewpoints. Once in awhile we might go off intensely about a certain subject we feel strongly about, and we may be opinionated on one or two topics, but I don't ever think opinionated is the whole of us or our blogs.

But I did get to thinking about a 'challenge' the writer had for bloggers, and that was to post without using the words 'I', 'me', 'my' or 'mine'. Hmmmm. That's going to be very hard for me to do when I am blogging about my life, and my family, and my friends, and my experiences, and my wants, and my desires, and my dreams, and my likes, and my dislikes (hey, this blog does sound kind of narcissistic!).
I am going to challenge myself to blog about anything except myself at least once a week. Unfortunately, even though I won't use the words 'I', 'me', 'my', or 'mine', the post will be about something that is of interest to me!

I Marvel At The Courage

Journalist David Rowan of Wired Magazine writes about a fellow journalist in Yemen:

"I'm humbled by the bravery of Abdulkarim El-Khewani. El-Khewani is a Yemeni journalist who felt his readers needed to know about corruption and injustices. After he became the editor-in-chief of Al-Shora newspaper, he published articles about 'corruption in the petroleum sector', about government officials lining their pockets. So the Yemeni authorities kept harassing and then jailing him, repeatedly, on charges such as 'insulting the president of the Republic of Yemen'. They also closed his newspaper. He offered evidence that he was tortured and there were death threats. But he wouldn't learn.
During one arrest, in June 2007, El-Khewani was beaten and his six-year-old daughter Eba slapped unconscious. This is tough for a six-year-old to live through. Especially when you then learn that your Dad has been jailed again, this time for six years."

(Here is a video of Eba talking about how she asked her Dad to stop writing, and her little efforts that she made trying to stop him.)



David went on to write about this video:

"That video makes you angry, doesn't it? It makes you want to go out and do something. Well, that's what saved El-Khewani, other people, in other countries, giving a damn about him, and all because of one powerful, raw video. It was made by a human-rights group in Yemen, the Sisters Arabic Forum for Human Rights. The video was put on YouTube, on the social networks, it reached the US State Department, and it boosted a campaign calling for El-Khewani's immediate relaease. All the pressure from local and international organizations finally paid off, El-Khewani received a presidential pardon and was released from the Sana's prison.

When he came out, he said he felt that the world was on his side. "I was not alone to face the ordeal, because I felt that all the organizations were with me. So I felt strong." Today, I want everyone to know that you can help protect brave journalists like him. It's all about helping shine a light on their work, making them visible internationally, so that those who seek to oppress them know that they won't do so with impunity."

This is just one story of the many brave journalists around the world that David Rowan wrote about.

I Know Some People Have Had Some Issues With...

...Ollie North, but I LOVE what he has to say here, especially at the very end of his message:





I received this video in an email from a former grammar/high school classmate and I thought this was especially appropriate at this time of honoring veterans and at this Season of Thanksgiving.

Pictures From Veteran's Day Parade In New York City

Ray used his phone to snap a few pictures of the parade waiting to start in New York City on Veteran's Day:




Jayden got a kick out of seeing these pictures of the antique cars:






And these pictures displaying the Ground Zero Flag are my favorites:

There's 'Fluff' And Then There Is 'Extraordinary'

Veteran's Day got me to thinking, and I'm taking a little break from the 'fluff' of my life to focus on some other more noteworthy subjects for awhile. I'll get back to my family vacation in a week or two.

I've never considered myself a very political person, in fact, I don't much like politics, and I don't much trust politicians, especially 'career politicians'.

And in my younger years I was not overtly patriotic either. I took my country and all the wonderful advantages that she offers for granted. I took my freedom for granted. I have freedom to worship as I choose and if I choose. I could not imagine a life where the government dictates my beliefs. I have freedom to voice an injustice. I have freedom to speak out against my government. I have freedom to voice my opinion even when it is an opinion that differs from the majority. I am free to travel wherever I want in my country, I am free to work where I want and when I want. I am free to join the political party of my choice, and I am free to vote for the candidate of my choice. I never thought about the sacrifices that were made in order for me to enjoy my freedom. I didn't think much about the lives sacrificed in wars. I never thought about the people who fought for my freedom. I never thought about the men and women living through the hell of war, and I never thought about the men and women who did not survive the hell of war. I never thought about the men and woman who have undergone bias, discrimination, ridicule, persecution or imprisonment, all to ensure my rights. Soldiers, protesters, civil rights leaders, and women suffragettes, I didn't examine their lives with the respect and diligence they so deserve.

I've changed a little, and I think I've changed for the better. Below is a copy of an email I received yesterday and I don't want to be 'preach-y' but if an extraordinary war hero wants to fly an American flag on a flagpole in front of his home, I don't see why anyone should have a problem with that:



Remember the guy that Wouldn't take the Flag down?


On June 15, 1919, Van T. Barfoot was born in Edinburg , Tx -- probably didn't
make much news back then.

Twenty-five years later, on May 23, 1944, near Carano , Italy , Van T. Barfoot,
who had enlisted in the Army in 1940, set out to flank German machine gun
positions from which fire was coming down on his fellow soldiers. He advanced
through a minefield, took out three enemy machine gun positions and returned
with 17 prisoners of war.


If that wasn't enough for a day's work, he later took on and destroyed three
German tanks sent to retake the machine gun positions.


That probably didn't make much news either, given the scope of the war, but it
did earn Van T. Barfoot, who retired as a colonel after also serving in Korea and
Vietnam , a Congressional Medal of Honor.



What did make news last week was a neighborhood association's quibble with
how the 90-year-old veteran chose to fly the American flag outside his suburban
Virginia home. Seems the rules said a flag could be flown on a house-mounted
bracket, but, for decorum, items such as Barfoot's 21-foot flagpole were
unsuitable.


He had been denied a permit for the pole, erected it anyway and was facing court
action if he didn't take it down. Since the story made national TV, the
neighborhood association has rethought its position and agreed to indulge this
old hero who dwells among them.



"In the time I have left I plan to continue to fly the American flag without
interference," Barfoot told The Associated Press.

As well he should.

And if any of his neighbors still takes a notion to contest him, they might want to
read his Medal of Honor citation. It indicates he's not real good at backing down.







WE LIVE IN THE LAND OF THE FREE, ONLY BECAUSE OF THE BRAVE!
IN GOD WE TRUST

Veteran's Day

My father-in-law Harry, an immigrant from Sweden, proudly served in the United States Army during World War II. Harry stepped on a mine in a field outside of St. Lo in France, he was twenty-six years old at the time and he was forced to cut the muscle of his leg loose with his own knife when the medic couldn't bring himself to do what needed to be done. He, along with many other seriously wounded soldiers, unceremoniously received the purple heart while recovering in an Army hospital ward when a soldier came and nonchalantly walked through the ward and threw the medals down on their beds. The Army then trained Dad to earn a living making wallets, but when he returned to the United States, Harry went back into construction working as a dock builder until he retired at the age of sixty-two.


In addition to my father-in-law, I have other family members that served proudly and still serve today. My Dad served in the United States Coast Guard and he was stationed on a weapons supply ship in the South Pacific during WWII. My Uncle Tom served in the Army and was stationed in France during WWII, my Aunt Florence said he never talked about the war, but he went to confession each week after the war and continued to confess 'his sin' in the war but he never felt forgiven. He carried his scars until the day he died at seventy-six years old.
My brother Tommy joined the Marines, we were lucky in that he was stationed here in the States. My brother John joined the Army, he was not so lucky, he did a tour in Viet Nam. Our nephew Thomas now serves in the Navy and was stationed on the USS Halsey which was deployed to the Persian Gulf, he's now stationed in South Carolina. Our nephew Adam was in the Marine Reserves and did a tour in Iraq, and his brother Mikael is now serving in the Marine Reserves and he also did a tour in Iraq. This summer Mikael was sent to Africa to train for Afghanistan. No word yet on when he will be deployed. Please keep him in your prayers.



































I think one of the biggest blights on 'my generation' is the way we treated our Viet Nam Veterans. It's one thing to protest a war, but to protest the boys in uniform (and yes, most of them were 'boys') who did not have the luxury of deciding whether to go to war or not, to protest those boys, to spit on them, to call them 'baby-killers', to ridicule those boys was in my opinion cruel to say the least. Boys all but destroyed by war and then further decimated by their fellow Americans. Shame on us. Shame on us.








I am in awe when I think of the sacrifices that have been made for us to enjoy the freedom we have.
I am in awe of our military and I am in awe of their families who also sacrifice so much. It is mind-boggling to think of all the lives lost, all the bodies that have been maimed, all the souls that have been damaged, and the heartbreak left in the wake of wars. And yet the cycle of war continues, and good men and good women continue to answer the call to duty, and good men and good women continue to sacrifice.

This poem was written during World War I:

The Yankee Division Cemetery In Lorraine


The peasant children pass it as they leave the village school
The pious strangers cross themselves along the road to Toul
The captains call attention as the dusty troops plod by
The officers salute it though receiving no reply
'Tis a spot all brown and barren amid the poppies and the grain
The Y-D cemetery by a roadside in Lorraine

A row of wooden crosses and beneath the upturned sod
The hearts once wild and restless now know the peace of God
The brave young lads who left us while life was at it's flood
While life was fresh and joyous and fire was in the blood
Their young lives now enfranchised from mirth or joy or pain
They sleep the sleep eternal by a roadside in Lorraine

Of all the myriad places for the dead of man to rest
The graveyard of the warrior for a freeman is the best
Oh, not for them our pity, but far across the foam
For the gray-haired mother weeping in some New England home
'Tis she who has our pity, 'tis she who feels the pain
Of the Y-D cemetery by a roadside in Lorraine

The plodding columns pass them along the old Toul road
New companies come marching where yesterday they strode
Above, the whirr of motors and beyond, the roar of guns
Where their allies and their brothers join battle with the Huns
And the sunlight of their glory bursts through the clouds and rain
O'er the Y-D cemetery by a roadside in Lorraine

~ Col. Harry B. Anderson, 26th Div. Judge Advocate