The Monkey Princess (stellanova) wrote,
The Monkey Princess

  • Mood:

boots, boots, boots moving up and down again (and there's no discharge in the war)

So we were marching for peace on Saturday, and it was bloody brilliant. There is always something so stirring and heart warming about people just turning up and refusing to accept something being done in their name. And there were just so many people (100,000 in Dublin, which is 1 in 40 of the country's entire population), and most of them were just ordinary people, who never usually went on marches, but who didn't agree with the way this "war" is being waged. My friend Louise's dad was one of the organisers of the march, and it was cool to cheer him on as we passed the podium where he was directing proceedings.

By the way, the title of this entry comes from a poem by Rudyard Kipling; it's about the horrors of marching into war, which is a little inappropriate for an entry about the virtues of marching away from it (hopefully), but the phrase kept running around in my head so I had to go with it....
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