twenty-seven years and one million words
Long ago I wrote down my thoughts on turning thirty. It seems that I don't really have much to add on the subject of turning 39!
But I have noticed a fair bit of grey recently, and there are creases in my face where even six months ago there were none. Guess I've earned them honestly. The count-down to forty is down to a small number indeed.
Naturally the common people don't want war: Neither in Russia, nor in England, nor for that matter in Germany. That is understood. But, after all, it is the leaders of the country who determine the policy and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the peacemakers for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in any country.