Hello again. Miss me? I was going to write about the recent tornado which struck too near where I live, but this instead has grabbed my Muse, and I must run with it. You're going to like this a lot better, trust me. I am reporting to you live from the trenches of my own private little war.

One day last quarter, on my way to an early P.E. class, I was accosted by this rude young lady (and I use the term lady loosely). You see, it was raining, and I was tired, and it was cold, and I was tired of walking so I took a shortcut through this memorial that they have set up for former students who died in various wars. It consists of a bricked area and three big stone slabs with their names carved in it, with a flagpole in the center. This whole thing sits right on the corner where the sidewalk I was taking to the gym ajoined the one that the gym faced. By stepping through the memorial, I was saving myself from going all the way around. Well, it's really not that far and I know I should show a little more respect, but this rude little twit of a girl coming out of the chow hall saw me and yelled: "Don't walk through there unless you read every name."

Huh? What? Is someone speaking to me? I looked up through the mental haze.

"Yes, I'm talking to you!"

Well, I can be pretty handy when it comes to one upmanship, but at certain times I only think of the right thing to say ten minutes after the incident has taken place. This was one of those times. I continued on to the gym, the girl muttering angrily behind me.

I tell ya, folks. It's gettin so a guy can't take a shortcut in the rain anymore. Of course, she had a point, but it was the fact that she was so rude about it that made me angrier and angrier. Well, I had a problem. How to get this off my chest and my point across. The answer? Simple! Now check this out:

Our campus newspaper, The Voice, has a column in it called Sound Off! It's a wonderful idea; it allows students the chance, anonymously, to talk about what bothers them about the campus. I like this column; it's probably my favorite part of the paper. I like the anonymity it affords people. Because of this, students who wouldn't otherwise come forward are offered a chance to tell what's on their minds. I also like it because it's honest. I jumped on this as soon as the idea came to me: I would submit a few lines to let the girl know what I thought of what she did. Here's what was printed:

To the girl who yelled at me for walking through the memorial-- Yes, I'm talking to you! I have never heard of this little "rule," and I certainly didn't need to hear of it in such a rude and hateful way. I'll read every name when you learn some manners!"

Take that, I said. That'll show her, I said. Well, today, March 27, the third day of Spring Quarter, I picked up a copy of the Voice and turned immediately to the Sound Off! column. That's when I saw that the "war" I had instigated was not over. At the top of the page, was the girl's reply. It reads:

--To the person who walked through the memorial: It is not a rule, it is a tradition--ever wonder why you are the only person to walk through it? Talk to a person in the corps about our traditions. We will be happy to explain.

Fine, I say. She read it, as I was hoping she would. Part of me was afraid she would never see it, and so my point would have gone unnoticed and my feelings unvalidated. But I took a chance that one so caught up in "traditions" would grab a copy as soon as it left the printer. She probably keeps up with basketball scores, and knows who is in what fraternity. Heck, she can probably funnel more beer than any guy on campus. I don't know; I'm just little ol' me, shuffling to class in the cold, pouring rain.

Anyway, I feel better now, knowing she read it, and it was a little nicer. Do I let it go? Heck no! This is rich, folks! Richer than Bill Gates. There are a couple of statements in her reply that bothered me and some other squid stick who has put his or her anonymous two cents into it as well, a matter I shall deal with in a moment, but first: my reply, which I shall deliver to the Voice's campus box ASAP:

To the girl who yelled at me for walking through the memorial: I used the term "rule" loosely, hence the quotation marks. And as for being the only person to walk through it, I saw a guy do it on the 27th. And I hope that by "our traditions" you meant the school's, since you were obviously not wearing camouflage that day.

Ahh, sweet validation. Now, just below her reply, there was another remark about the incident:

--To the one who doesn't understand the meaning of a memorial--how much intelligence does it take to figure out the respect of such a monument? Do you walk on graves too?

Well, I just have to take a swing at this person, so here is my intended rebuttal:

To the other memorial respondent: No, I don't walk on graves too! Sure, these things deserve a certain amount of dignity and respect, but the only way it could benefit those people is if they got respect while they were alive. You want to honor their memories? Start a scholarship in one of their names. Give money to their families. Do something to help end war. And in the meantime, mind your own business.

And that is that. I'm tru wit dis guy, your Honor. I brush off my hands and wait for the dust to fly or settle, as it will. Isn't this Sound Off! column wonderful? Just a short line or two. You have to put your name on it, but they won't print it.

Now it's lesson time, kids. I shouldn't have walked through the memorial. But on the other hand, that girl had no right to just yell at me from twenty feet away. I wasn't entirely right, but I knew for damn sure that she wasn't, either. So what have I learned from the front line of my private little war? That words are wonderful things. They can caress like a warm spring breeze or cut like the sharpest sword. They light up the darkness like a million kleig lights. Words have power, people. And as writers we should use that power. If someone makes you angry; if something ticks you off, write about it! We shouldn't always be passive observers. Sure, I want to entertain people, but sometimes they should learn something as well.

Words are weapons, the vocabulary-bullets; the dictionary-an ammo clip with which to gun down the legions of illiteracy and ignorance. Don't just take it lying down. Fight back. Sound off!