I was walking from Faneuil Hall in Boston today and while it was cold as hell, the children and adults I was with saw the steam rising from the New England Holocaust Memorial. I didn't realize it until I saw the Martin Niemoeller quotation at the end and I stopped right there.
The adults and children were more concerned with some place to get warm and absolutely did not share my awful realization that I absolutely did not want to have anyone playing any grabass anywhere near there.
I really would've liked to have gone by the Robert Gould Shaw memorial, but it was a few hundred meters away and nobody else in the group really gave a flying fuck about the 54th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry, let alone have any familiarity with Robert Lowell's "For The Union Dead."
I was in a group which included an adult who had no idea what tilting at windmills was until I tied it to Don Quixote, as in Cervantes' literature work from the 1600s, not to be confused with some movie.
I swear to god I'm not fucking making this up.
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