About twenty months ago I visited DC. When I visit again this week, I might go to the Supreme Court again, and I hope to catch the kite festival for the first time. But I don't know if I can bear to go to Arlington this time round. Last time, in June 2001, I wrote:

So in the morning I saw Arlington National Cemetery. And I was overwhelmed. In the movie Fail-Safe, the President says, "What do we say to the dead?" And the Russian premier says that we must tell them that it will never happen again.

There are more than 260,000 people buried at Arlington (they say). There are so many graves. Everywhere. A mute tribute. And they are in all directions. I could not but turn my back on someone.

We cannot consecrate every piece of ground where someone has fallen, but what is the proper way to pay respect to the dead?

There are signs that explain that this is hallowed ground, that people should conduct themselves with dignity and solemnity. Joel says that such signs tell us what has happened in the past. And he's right. Maybe American tourists are worse than others. But I felt as though people should be more solemn than they were. I felt uncomfortable, even disapproving, when people laughed or gossiped or fussed over camera angles. But who am I to judge? The only people who have a right to mind, maybe, can't say anything, can't tell us how to respect them.

Does this cemetery glorify war? Could a patriot and a pacifist, to borrow Moxy Früvous's terms, equally use Arlington to say, "we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain" and "never again"?

These graves were all Americans. What about the other sides? France and Iraq, Spain and Nicaragua, England and Vietnam?

Man:(explains that the Guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is "very focused," "ceremonial," and that he can't stray for a moment from his task and his precision.)
Boy:"So, what is it, exactly, for?"