One could argue that only finding out that it didn't go off actually matters. If an open window provides entry, any action will likely come too late, but is hardly an excuse to not try and return to sender as undesirable. I remember your post, but not verbatim, so I'll have to read about 24 again. Hand grenades won't go off just by dropping it, it will have to be ignited, and when ignition fails, it's about as effective as a brick.
I had an easy time in the Military, as a truck driver I didn't have to sleep in the mud, and the shorter, lighter sub-machine guns we carried were easy on the back. NBC training was a different matter, tear gas filled chambers are no fun, but being familiar with scuba gear did give me an edge.
Your military service sounds like Mr. Hemmingway meets something altogether more out of a Hollywood disaster film. Now, if that doesn't make a man out of you, what will?!
The complications with the reflections on the grenade situation may largely be to blame on the discrepant types of grenade especially since WWI and now. My research had to remain a little superficial on the subject, because soon I started landing on some very dubious websites....
I am lingering here, under this reply - blank screen moment - because I am actually still silenced by the sound of all the emotion silently outpouring in your other reply (leading off the burns).
It makes for another meaningful moment how you (fortunately) understood what I meant by "work of art" in relation to the nightmare of being a burns victim (which would have been perceived as needlessly complicated or provocative by others, I no longer doubt). How indeed, I meant precisely that the healing of the tissues is the work of art. From this miracle may we derive subsequently more inspiration/courage to carry on... but only they most beautiful within shall manage; and they in turn become inspriational to us.
When I researched the world of (sado)masochistic things, for the good cause of healing, very bravely, for it is not something I can stomach too well, there was a large softer section of bondage fetishists who worshipped scars. It's similar to the trend in "cutting" sadly prevalent in young people nowadays. As if this is to emote; as if this is a way to get rid of the pain. Good luck. But what a clumsy effort we make. Wouldn't a little help from our friends make us stop thinking only about ourselves? Do we really have to clash (crash into) someone and ruin their life before we might? Esotericists can go far here to make sense of also being the one crashed into in this light.... but I know where to draw a line for now.
Why is it not obvious that the mobility accessory business ought to be considered the extention of the humane work of nursing? (while regarding humane work hours!) But care, too, has become big business...
These considerations turn the head into a Minnesota raceway park. But never mind, at the same time something much more important is happening even if it has no significance at all to any rational mind. It is when a picture (whole and light) is formed where two or more are gathered. Oh yeah, deep, man. But I think you've done enough deep sea diving to interpret this in your own language.
I wouldn't class you as a typical nuts and bolts man who can't think how to reach out and touch (emotionally) but I am by unprofessional occupation more interested in a remarkable depth of feeling (not the same; the former is thinking with a lot of blood in your head - we hope there at least; and the latter is a one-direction leminscate). I can well empathise how you dismay at how what you call emotion is largely lost on both machine and 9 out of 10 wo/men. We then have bitterly little to work with. Here's to hoping somebody catches our eye, then.
How long can any (ex)military wo/man take that sitting down, I wonder? Not so much that there will come a breaking point (just a plop). But how many scars can fit on a single heart? (Not Confucius I don't think.)
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An interesting side trip into Hemingway's history once again sheds new light. How do you do that? ..and thank you. I was only familiar with the old man and the sea, the 6 toed cats, and the whiskey bottles.
Shakopee is the flattening of a lemniscate, the deliberate removal of the 3rd dimension to let it crash into itself. But what if a fourth dimension or even a fifth would be added? How many dimensions are there, and when are there enough? Even a whale needs to surface after searching the deep blue for nourishment to take a few breaths of fresh air.
How many scars can you add when it already looks like a freshly plowed field? Everything seems infinitely divisible, but maybe it's time to add the seeds for the next harvest and forget to hold on to last year's drought.
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What if the second dimension is something you might thank the crash for....?
Coming from a perspective of a colour steward.
I don't know about Hemmingway's 6 toed cat(s). My tri-colore had a thumb, though. More cats today it so happens (post). Of a slighty more elevated calibre, still.
They say we will be having a lot more drought. I guess it's time to learn how to desalinate.
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I know how to desalinate using the light, what I need to learn is how to add the minerals to make it healthy to drink, only then will the seeds on my plowed field start to germinate and return the colors.
I used to feed a stray that lived behind a convenience store named Paws. She had 6 toes and was a Hemingway Cat. After learning about the Hemingway Cats from a woman that also fed strays I drove to Key West and before I knew it I had Hemingway Cats climbing all over me. https://www.hemingwayhome.com/cats/
There also was a Korean war Vet living behind the store, in a box. We used to feed him too, and that's how we met Paws.
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If I didn't know you better I would read your opening paragraph as Metaphysical Poem.
Apparently I have some phosporus to spare - not quite sure how much a cat man might need of it. Apparently, one can soon have too much of it. I wouldn't know : I just bear the light, with every flash in the pan. But there's a start to a whip-round.
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Hope I answered all your other questions that came flying in as I was about to reply to this one. I had to look up whip-round, ...
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Sure did. Have a micro cent for the answers.
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