...and it can't be in bed after a long, full life, surrounded by friends and family, then to go down fighting, screaming defiance at your foe, that is the way to go - as the Man in the Arena:
MaryAnn knew David. I may only know him by that reflection, but my life is richer for it.
Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam of Specialist David "Alex" Knapp.
I didn't know Specialist Knapp, but I know he's been brought home on his shield, and he's telling stories of derring-do at Fiddler's Green, where Sergeant Major Cleo of the Interior Guard is rubbing up against his leg, and Sergeant Shadow of the Exterior Guard at his feet, listening to those stories, wishing Alex would throw a frisbee.It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by the dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who, at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat.
MaryAnn knew David. I may only know him by that reflection, but my life is richer for it.
Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam of Specialist David "Alex" Knapp.
Rest in Peace Specialist Knapp.