In this post-reality world of the politically incorrect, we witness a generation that has absolutely no idea of the true horrors of war; the sacrifice needed to win and the reality of the fact that in war, people die and humanity is sometimes compromised in the quest to preserve humanity.
Values and verdicts never bother me half as much as people trying to weasel their way around them, or people compromising their reason to pander to their own prejudices and preconceptions, which they are so rarely competent to look in the face.
Moderation? It's mediocrity, fear, and confusion in disguise. It's the devil's dilemma. It's neither doing nor not doing. It's the wobbling compromise that makes no one happy. Moderation is for the bland, the apologetic, for the fence-sitters of the world afraid to take a stand. It's for those afraid to laugh or cry, for those afraid to live or die. Moderation...is lukewarm tea, the devil's own brew.
THE Hunter and the Bear . . . The Sory of a Perfect Compromise The hunter sighted his quarry, and raised his rifle to fire. The bear, raising a paw, said, "Now just a minute friend; can't we talk this over like two rational, intelligent, progressive beings?" The hunter lowered his gun, and scratching his head replied, "What's to talk over?" "Well", said the bear, "for example, what do you want to shoot me for?" "That's very simple. I want a bearskin coat". "And I," said the bear, "merely want a good breakfast. Let's sit down together, I'm sure we can reach a common point of view that will satisfy us both". So they sat down together to work out an agreement. After a time the bear got up all alone. They had reached a compromise. The bear had his breakfast; the hunter had on his fur coat. You know where the hunter was. He was eaten alive by his compromise position. You will be eaten alive also, if you sacrifice your principles for any reason. THE END DOES NOT JUSTIFY THE MEANS.