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Catastrophic Success

As if there weren't enough political opinionating out there, I, too, now sing the body bloglectric. Let me FEED you![XML]

Location: United States

Monday, January 31, 2005

Iraqi Crispian Day

By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
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 Crispian'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 rememb'red.
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 remembered-
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;
Make him a member of the gentry, even if he is a commoner.
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
Henry V, Act 4, Scene 3

The Iraqi elections are a day of honor for all 8 and half million who participated. Those who painted their fingers shall proudly, henceforth, be able to proclaim that they founded their country anew. Those who feared the blade, gun and bomb of the terrorist will hold his internal shame that better men and women than he braved the spectre of death to give voice to their choices on Iraq's first true election day. Despite the braying of the liberal jackasses who could not see the good through their own fear or refusal to credit anything in relation to Bush's actions with goodness could not drown out the joy, the blessings and the honor Iraqis will grant to January 30, 2005. How dare we, as Americans, who must only contend with a few faulty machines or a butterfly ballot or just the inconvenience of altering our daily lives to impede with our exercise of our civil sacrament, cast aspersions on those who faced the real risk of being blown up by an idiot with a bomb strapped to his chest? Despicable.

Jim Treacher posts 1,000 words on the power, importance and effect of Iraq's first election. Profound indeed.

Unlike the fighters at Agincourt, those who did not vote today can gain some of the glory and prestige in October this year when Iraqis will vote to ratify the Constitution that Allawi and his new duly-elected government will create, such duty they have been charged with, and again in January next when the government created by said Constitution will be voted in. Glory and Honor to those who voted, and Good Will and Grace to those who must now create a new country from whole cloth. May the wisdom of our Founding Fathers be of benefit to Iraq's new Founders.