Today was the 11th of November. This date sticks in my mind whenever I come across it in the calender or when today I heard the date being read out in the news.
When I was in primary school I read a picture book about a some every day young boys who played soccer regularly. Then when a war broke out and they lied about their age to enlist in the army. Months later when they neared the front lines of war torn France the reality of the adventure of war had just began to fade. As Christmas eve came near the front lines became quiet and the men of the opposing sides began to join in a choir of song to Silent Night. In the morning as the snow both sides miraculously emerged unarmed and without hostility to spend Christmas together not as enemies but as brothers. They played soccer, held mass, and talked of visiting one another when the war was over. However not all good things are to last and when Christmas ended the truce was over and their orders were to resume the firing of their weapons. As word spread to the commanders of a unauthorised truce, they ordered an attack as planned. On the frontlines, the boys stood together as they stood at the trench walls ready to commence the assault bayonets ready on their rifles. Hearts pounding. Shells falling. Artillery exploding. They waited. Then the artillery bombardment stopped. A silence cut through the battlefield of no mans land. Suddenly the splitting squeal of the whistle. The men now climbed the ladders of the tops of the trench --only to meet cruel masses of bullets entering their bodies. As the remainder of the assault staggered forward in the sea of fire, one of the boys kicks a soccer ball towards the enemy lines as if he were charging a goal than the frontlines. As one by one the boys are cut down, the last one lies collapsed in a crater permeating no man's land with his last thought about his friend who was crazy as usual, crazy enough to charge a front line with a soccer ball. With that, the snow eventually covers his fallen body as time goes by. The last page shows the former battlefield covered with flowers further than the eye can see.
I remember reading that story and understanding even at that age the sorrows of what is now called WWI. Even after that truce in 1914 Christmas eve the war was to drag on for another four long years til November 11 1918. Presently, I've remembered that date for years now, always pondering if our generation will be blessed enough not to be shown firsthand the sorrows of war. It just seems all too unreal that generations ago, kids that were young enough to be in year 9 were fighting--and dying far away from home on the muddy hell of trench warfare
My final HSC exam was exactly four years ago on the 11th and funnily enough when my high school education was all but over the only thing I could think about was when the guns stopped firing back then. I also wondered what would happen if the examiners had included a minutes silence during the paper. Imagine if they had made everyone drop their pens for that. But I digress. In past times, the ones who fought were citizen soldiers. It was never just the core of the professional armies that stepped up but rather the everyday person from the cities and towns. In the midst of the 21st century, war seems so far and distant and seemingly reserved to the middle eastern deserts of Iraq or the mountainous terrain of Afganistan. However if that time comes I just wonder how would we all respond to such a unwanting sacrifice. I've talked to some friends and its always easy to come to a conclusion that such a reality is far fetched. I remember though that WWI started seemingly out of nowhere in a decade of relative peace and prosperity. But if there's one thing I've learnt about history, its that men never learn.
August is always a busy month on my calender every year. Its as if the last month of winter seems to be packing as much events in as possible. Mainly its because a lot of my friends have their birthdays during this month. Birthdays are an event that trump all other commitments so its also a good chance to catch up when we can. Last month as I attended both of my friend's 22nd birthdays at the two very different settings I could only think of one thing as the birthday cakes came out. Over dining room conversations at house parties to the chats at restaurants, I've found the discussion always moving towards one topic. What were once topics about Accounting 1B, Carbolic Smoke Ball v Carlill and other miscellaneous university coursework the popular direction of conversations has been towards our futures.
Naturally what is spoken reflects the thoughts of the mind and the thoughts are developed from the desires of the heart For many in my cohort the desires are headings towards completing a degree and entering what is beyond the predictable bubble of university life. The thoughts in mind is to a future that for some are certain if they have a job lined up for them or uncertain if they plan otherwise. In this transitory stage it feels strange to suddenly realise the extent of freedom that has been gradually handed to us all as we all grow older. However when young, realising consequences that may come from freedom aren't as coherent as of yet.
As all of the birthday guests sat back after the festivities for a drink at the two different parties, so our conversations turned to very similar lines of work and identity. 'We shouldn't be defined by our work ', said the birthday boy and the group nodded in agreement. "Its good to have goals but sometimes there's only so much, there are limitations to how much someone can plan," my friend continued. Backtrack three weeks at my other friend's birthday, we too also talked of how work plays a part in life. After longer than a month I can barely remember the conversations but it was a unanimous agreement, a fact that seems obvious that work is just work no matter how big and prestigious the firm they were working at. One of the guys on the couch joked that the accountants getting paid enormous amounts were getting paid the same as retail assistants because if you divided their pay with their hours it was "all the same anyway."
Minutes later we concluded our meaningful conversations by comparing Iphone apps. After knowing these guys for nearly a decade, its funny what time can do with our conversations.
Its been a while since I've started to compose words here on xanga but the prodigal son returns to world of obsolete web logging! I started this blog back in the day because most guys from school were starting one but found over time that during the time I was writing posts my ability to express myself probably hit a peak. So once again I'm starting over.
An issue thats been at the back of my mind for the past year is about friendships. Specifically, Facebook friendships. The past two years FB has boomed to the extent that most people connected to the internet has an active account. Its quite convenient having an extra source of communication between friends through messaging, commenting on pictures and organising events but the nature of FB providing an instant form of communication which is something to consider. Instant friendships. People have the right to choose what they do on their account but the dominant culture that prevails is that all people you meet are your friends. I looked at my friends list the other day and realistically I don't communicate to any more 'friends' on FB than I usually do independent of it. Once I bumped into an acquaintance and they complained that I hadn't added them on FB. I used to add everyone and anyone but then came the realisation that someone you know of, rather than someone you know (and trust) has access to your photos and other details. I wouldn't let someone I didn't know look through my photos at home so why would it be different when it comes to FB? THe same principles applied to the online context seem to change somewhat when transferred from the real life context.
The status update provides a medium to instantly update what you're doing but the line is blurred to when you're actually just updating or boasting like you've been given the license to bask in your own glory. With the opportunities to FB via your phone it makes it even easier. Once again it comes down to the point that FB is merely the medium, the form of communication and not the source of communication.
My parents had their 21st Anniversary this week. Imagine being together for 21years of marriage. I've had the front row seats for the last 20 yrs and its been a bumpy road but here they are, 21 years...may many more to come.
Whilst my parents were having a classy dinner at Woolloomooloo Wharf, Jen and I enjoyed a fantastic dinner of Harry's Pies. Then we found this rooftop area on a bunch of apartments with a grand view of the bay. So at 8:30pm on Wednesday night we found ourselves on a rooftop dancing quite literally in the moonlight.
By now I've thrown out all my credits to my man points account but oh well. But its moments like that I know I'll remember for a very long time to come.
