While the first, this is by no means THE LONG WARRIOR's inaugural posting. As a blogger, T.T. Carnahan lacks comfort in and concept of his new medium and feels much like a dog trying to stand up in the back of moving station wagon.
We'll keep this first entry short by applying the tried and true maxim: "I'm up. He sees me. I'm down." Think Kilroy. Let's fool around with the background, monkey with the font, and maybe add a picture or two before we begin the long rich conversation that will be THE LONG WARRIOR.
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A dedication to the Long War, American foreign policy, the siren call of Afghanistan, fly fishing, and coming home.
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- T.T. Carnehan
- Pushtunistan
- A veteran of the Iraq war and participant of the Afghan war. A sometime commentator found wherever college football, buzkashi, and brown liquor intersect.
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2 comments:
TT Carnahan, is this it? Will we get to see you expound? Will the training wheels come off?
Truth Escapes Satans Grip
I had a dream.
I saw satan swimming slowly, languorously, smiling,
wafting down a river of blood.
More and more as he spread his blood drenched arms
across each bank, people murdered themselves
and murdered their neighbors.
Their blood poured out filling the river deeper and deeper,
and satan patiently, willfully, joyfully
screeched a hideous cry of encouragement.
The unwitting souls on the riverbank, stood
with their eyes firmly fixed on the heavens
spoke the name of God,
then committed self-murder,
and satans fingers, dripping blood, dragged their souls
into his hell bound torrent.
Occasionally a bright beam of truth
would shine upon one of the souls on the riverbank
and they would simply walk away.
And satan thrashed and screamed each time
as another soul escaped his grip.
Through Grace Peace
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