Guide to port knocking

I’ve posted a guide to port-knocking on the Articles subsection, located here.

Do let me know if there are any mistakes :D

If you’ve already sold your soul to the Devil once, does it matter if you do it again?

The Craigslist post

As a follow-up to my previous post, below is the Craigslist posting. Her anger and sadness really comes through. I’ve left it unedited, because to do any editing would only do her injustice.

Warning: Uncensored language

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Arlington Cemetery – Memorial Day

This is a featured photo on Getty Images

Memorial Day at Arlington National Cemetery

Her grief is private, but captured on camera, it just makes things more poignant and starker.

It reminds me of the Craigslist posting, where this female Marine was crying about how her unborn son wouldn’t know his father, or get to play with his father. All because her Marine husband got his tour of duty extended, even though he was due to be discharged from his duty already.

A short excerpt from the Getty Images blog post:

Mary McHugh is one of those people. She sat in front of the grave of her fiance James “Jimmy” Regan, talking to the stone. She spoke in broken sentences between sobs, gesturing with her hands, sometimes pausing as if she was trying to explain, with so much left needed to say.
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Mary told me about her slain fiance Jimmy Regan. Clearly, she had not only loved him but truly admired him. When he graduated from Duke, he decided to enlist in the Army to serve his country. He chose not to be an officer, though he could have been, because he didn’t want to risk a desk job. Instead, he became an Army Ranger and was sent twice to Aghanistan and Iraq – an incredible four deployments in just three years. He was killed in Iraq this February by a roadside bomb.
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Mary said that they had planned to get married after Jimmy’s four years of service were up next year. “We loved each other so much,” she said. “We thought we had all of the time in the world.”

After a few moments more, my beautiful wife, Gretchen, now almost 9 months pregnant, walked over with our two-year-old Isabella. Our daughter started climbing over me, saying “daddy” in my ear and pulling on my arm to come walk with her. I felt awkward and guilty about the contrast, but if Mary felt it too, she was nothing but gracious and friendly. I told her that I would forward her some photos of her from that day if she would like and she gave me her email address. We said our goodbyes and I moved on with my family through the sea of graves.

Later on, I passed by and she was lying in the grass sobbing, speaking softly to the stone, this time her face close to the cold marble, as if whispering into Jimmy’s ear.

More

New site design

After almost a year of using the old design, I’ve decided to switch to a new blog design. It’s a variant of K2, customized by me for this site. I like the black and red color scheme.

We few, we happy few

If only…

Henry V – William Shakespeare

KING HENRY V:
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.

Impossible is nothing

Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small people who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It’s an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It’s a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing.

The beaver beckons.