I first read this when I was 17. I thought it was a great piece then, and I think it's blindingly brilliant now. My only worry is that the irony of Twain's words might be lost on the literal-minded, but so be it. Enjoy.
The War Prayer by Mark Twain It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory which stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener. It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety's sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way.Sunday morning came -- next day the battalions would leave for the front; the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their young faces alight with martial dreams -- visions of the stern advance, the gathering momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe, the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender! Then home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored, submerged in golden seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor, there to win for the flag, or, failing, die the noblest of noble deaths. The service proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation
*God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest! Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!*
Then came the "long" prayer. None could remember the like of it for passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them to crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory --
An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even to ghastliness. With all eyes following him and wondering, he made his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher's side and stood there waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence, continued with his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, uttered in fervent appeal, "Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord our God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!"
The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside -- which the startled minister did -- and took his place. During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said:
"I come from the Throne -- bearing a message from Almighty God!" The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention. "He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it if such shall be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import -- that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of -- except he pause and think.
"God's servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two -- one uttered, the other not. Both have reached the ear of Him Who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this -- keep it in mind. If you would beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain upon your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse upon some neighbor's crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.
"You have heard your servant's prayer -- the uttered part of it. I am commissioned of God to put into words the other part of it -- that part which the pastor -- and also you in your hearts -- fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You heard these words: 'Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!' That is sufficient. the *whole* of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory--*must* follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!
"O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to battle -- be Thou near them! With them -- in spirit -- we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it -- for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.
(*After a pause.*) "Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak! The messenger of the Most High waits!"
It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was no sense in what he said.
My sister-in-law is in town, which is always cool because Tina and I always rouse ourselves and go do a bunch of things whenever she's here. So I've finally been able to get out of the house. We had a party on Saturday, went to the beach on Saturday, Hollywood on Monday, etc. I found a FANTASTIC store in Hollywood called Attack of the Killer B's ... it's in that new mall on Hollywood and Highland. Lots of old lobby cards, obscure horror DVDs, etc. I'll be going back. That day I bought the single coolest item there, the Blue Devil Duckie. It floats in our tub as we speak, lending an infernal yet comical air to all bathtime activities.
I made my first 5-gallon batch of soda pop today, a basic ginger ale. Ye gods, that took a lot of ginger. I'll be taking the batch to the Strand Brewers' Club party this Saturday; it's good to have at least one soft drink there, and since my latest pale ale isn't ready yet, I figured I'd supply it. I'll be testing it out tomorrow after it has a chance to carbonate. It should be pretty good!
I need to start getting out of this damn house and doing something worthwhile, for my own sanity if for no other reason. It's all fine and dandy to sit here in Mission Control and send out my vast network to look for a job, but at some point I have to say that this is not working and I need to get out there and find out if there's another way.
Toward this end, I'll be speaking with the head librarian at my local library next week. They supposedly have a permanent floating position open for part-time help, and this may be just what I need to start my career as a librarian. Barring that, however, I'll be trying to find someone that will return my calls about volunteering. I've tried about 4 different charity entities since March, and none so far will call me back. I'm getting cabin fever and it needs to end soon.
OK, so today I'm going to talk to some people at the Redondo Beach City Hall. They want a librarian, and the job offer has been on the books for a while. Would they be interested in hiring someone who plans on getting their MLS within the next couple of years, and who has no interest in ever leaving the South Bay? We'll see.
I'm also going to apply to a technical librarian position in Torrance. I don't know much about the company, it seems like a network corporation; we'll see.
Enough has already been written about the utter hypocrisy and shallow insincerity of Pres. Shrub's speech yesterday about business ethics; you all said it pretty well, I don't see a need to add to it, except to say "Right on."
I've decided to start answering the Friday 5; it's a good jog to the writing system:
1. Where are you right now? Sitting at my desk, with the wind blowing through the window from the beach, and dinner an hour or so away.
2. What have you lost recently? I can't find my copies of my one scientific publication from a few years ago. I know it's in a file somewhere, but I can't find it. That's a bit of a pickle, because I'm starting to get interviews for positions in the chemical industry now and again, and I'd like to be able to a) prove my chops, and b) refresh my memory on the details of my research, should the topic come up. The search is ongoing. If it becomes a big problem, I'm sure I could get a copy from my old advisor, but I still think I can find it.
3. What was the first CD you ever purchased? Does that embarrass you now? "Vocalese" by the Manhattan Transfer. I had to sell it in college, during a brief period where I had no place to live. But I bought it again a couple of years ago, and it's still great. I'm not sure what you mean by "embarrass" -- people get their egos too tied in to their music tastes. I'll give you the dorkiest album I ever bought: "The Roar of Love," by the 2nd Chapter of Acts. Now THAT'S geeky. But am I embarrased? No.
4. What is your favorite kind of writing pen? Just a standard, everyday ballpoint, thank you. Every other "great" pen I've tried to use has ended up annoying the hell out of me. Fortunately, my way is cheaper.
5. What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Sigh. After the last answer, this one's really going to mark me a nerd. Vanilla. That's right. No, I don't want to hear it. No. Really. No, I didn't forget about chocolate. I'm glad you like it. I'm sticking with vanilla. Hey, it's not like it's the ONLY flavor I like, which I've noticed is often the case with you chocolate freaks. I enjoy lemon, orange, pralines and cream, butter nut, even the occasional licorice or jalapeno. But if I'm on a desert island, or if I haven't had ice cream in a long time? Vanilla.
I've just started messing with blogger. We'll see how this goes; in the meantime, if you want to see the old page, it's still there.
New beer label! Feast your eyes. I'll be bottling this sometime next week.
- Brian
BookList 2002: an occasional look at the books I've just read.
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay
by Michael Chabon
So far, this is my favorite book of the year. And not just because it involves the comic book industry; it's been over 15 years since I've collected comic serials, after all, and from what I've seen of them I've no desire to go back. This book stands on it's own and transcends the label of fan publication to become one of the best contemporary novels I've ever read.
There's so much here that it's hard to summarize; a heartbreaking story of a young man's escape from Austria in 1937 to New York, and the frustration of his every attempt to send for the doomed family that purchased his freedom; a young boy's fascination for escapes and magic; the early years of the comic book industry and its role in American thought at the start of the Second World War. There are also nailbiting sequences of survival in Antarctica and bombs in high-rises, rococo explorations of Manhattan high-society in the 1930s, and a few nifty explanations of complex magic tricks. It covers almost 20 years in the lives of three characters, and I was welded to the page the entire time.
Jon Sciesza, author of The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales, has written that many of the books students are asked to read in K-12 education these days are not appreciated by boys. In this article, he states, "I think schools and parents sometimes handicap their efforts to get boys reading by not offering boys the books that will inspire them to want to read. So many required reading lists and favored books in schools reflect women's reading tastes." I think Sciesza leans a little too hard on gender stereotypes, but if ever there was a book to combat this, a book that can be appreciated by everyone because it delivers a great yarn with beautiful prose, this is that book. An exceptional acheivement, and I recommend it unreservedly to anyone who might be reading these pages.
