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Step down when youre wrong

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And I wasn't throwing out different statements, I was merely replying to the guy's post. And before that I was addressing what I thought was your message and then trying to establish what it was when you said I was approaching the topic from a wrong direction.

All you did in return was to give short, vague statements and tell me to read them once again.

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Quote: from ElephantStone at 6:57 pm on Nov. 11, 2008

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Step down when youre wrong

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I will when I judge I'm wrong. Besides, so far you've failed to make your point clear enough for me to even know what we're discussing, so don't expect me to admit I'm not right.  

And I wasn't throwing out different statements, I was merely replying to the guy's post. And before that I was addressing what I thought was your message and then trying to establish what it was when you said I was approaching the topic from a wrong direction.

All you did in return was to give short, vague statements and tell me to read them once again.

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But you came straight in saying, theres no love between soldiers, and then once wrong went on and on and on

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Punctured bicycle on a hillside, desolate,
Could nature make a man of me yet?

And I have a feeling that the first paragraph of your opening post aims at being lofty and so the word love is there (among other means, such as repetition) to support the form rather than the actual message.

(Edited a forgotten pronoun.)

Post edited at 5:20 am on Nov. 12, 2008 by save the world

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In my book, the word 'love' doesn't fit well there, though of course I don't deny that there's a unique bond between fellow soldiers. I would call it in a different way, that's all.

And I have a feeling that the first paragraph of your opening post aims at being lofty and so the word love is there (among other means, such as repetition) to support the form rather than the actual message.

(Edited a forgotten pronoun.)

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Well its starnge that the actual soldiers would call it love.

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Punctured bicycle on a hillside, desolate,
Could nature make a man of me yet?