http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20071204202929AAz2OX6

Teach your children well,
Their father’s hell did slowly go by

May 8,2007

There is no life – no life without its hunger;
Each restless heart beats so imperfectly;
But when you come and I am filled with wonder,
Sometimes, I think I glimpse eternity.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Britain
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ireland

As for the need for underpants well two things come to mind ( one with the weather being as cold as it is I would hate for your worshippers to view your anatomy with disrespect ( we all know what happens to God “heads” in the cold… and since you have had to digest my writings of mushy peas that can cause all sorts of problems with the back door trots.. underpants may be something you might want to think about …..

as for me I will remember in my own human bleeding heart way and give the key from the door of Dublin castle a rub! (pilfered by my Grandad in 1913) Cheers Loraine

It’s not “lest we forget”, it’s “lest we remember”. That’s what all this is about – the memorials, the Cenotaph, the two minutes’ silence. Because there is no better way if forgetting something than by commemorating it.

Gods have no need for papers, no need for underpants either

Oengus, St (8th–9th cent.), Irish saint, commonly, but perhaps erroneously, called the Culdee, author of a Félire or verse martyrology. He apparently spent the latter part of his life in the community at Clonenagh, Co. Laoise, and in a nearby hermitage. At some point he joined the fraternity of Tallaght, near Dublin. Here he collaborated with St Máel Rúain (d. 792) on the compilation of the Martyrology of Tallaght, the oldest Irish martyrology and a major source of his own. Both martyrologies in their extant form can be dated c.800 or c.830. Feast day, 11 Mar.

I experienced the troubles – lived it – did you? my heart is not only on my sleeve but bleeds as well….

and Oengus reading your “sliced and diced” answers here – I would say “a little knowledge is a dangerous thing!”

Domhnach na Fola

When they shot the people there
The cries of thirteen martyrs
Filled the Free Derry air
Is there any one amongst you
Dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding
When they nailed the coffin lids!

Broken bottles under children’s feet
Bodies strewn across the dead end street
But I wont heed the battle call
It puts my back up
Puts my back up against the wall

Domhnach na Fola

When does fact become fiction…something to do with convenience. Yes after January 30th 1972 they passed the hat around…

Its all stopped after 911, the violence that is.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/filmblog/2008/nov/03/hunger-bobby-sands

Not the same, this article makes parallelism, dangerously I say.

A time to stand up and a time to stand down, I see it, but then again I see it all.

If you wear you heart your on your sleeve, you can always find someone that says they sympathize and also some that will throw it up in your face.

Not all britts are unkind, not all have crooked teeth.
Can you dance to that love, can you

find the Rhythm? Try this if the insult does not serve the purpose, make the point they pick up guns and begin to shoot people in the head, they blow things up…can you feel it now!

That woman…that girl
Your not Marlo Thomas, Loraine your writing is like mushy pees.