In the old days, fat young boys with nothing to do used to stand around drugstores talking excitedly of picking up girls. They now have other choices—they can pick up guns or protest-signs. I tend to take the druggist’s view: have an ice cream and forget the choices. I intend to give in neither to the army nor to the peace movement.
I am now certain of my reason for thinking this: I am a coward.
It has not always been this way. I used to think I was a person of high principles. The crooked thing about high principles is that they can live in thin air. I am fairly sure mine did. For the past five years my reaction to anything military was based on borrowed shock.
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