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Massacre Quotes

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Massacre Quotes

“Alien Native (The Sonnet) When natives are treated alien, and aliens take over as master, cultures uprooted by legal decree, honor is stolen as spoils of war, empires erected on blood and bones, when prosperity is rooted in plunder, homes are stripped of hopes and dreams, violations feed the palace of blunder, when baboons are adorned with bootleg, each rock is drenched in bloodshed, when festivities thrive on thievery, correction is cursed as blasphemous, defying the delirium of king and country, rise and stand human against imperial larceny.”

“Baa Baa White Sheep (The Sonnet) Baa baa white sheep, have you any wool! Yes sir, yes sir, London tower full. Pull it over your eyes, or weave it into blanket. All stink of blood and blunder, a scent second not even to crumpet. Imperials rise upon indigenous fall, declaring themselves as light-bringer. Native tears form kohinoor on the crown, Blood is but cologne to the colonizer. Not all of colonial descent are colonizer, but those who take pride in the past are. To these animal ghosts of the human world, no matter your ethnicity send a get well card.”

“Deutschland über alles (The Sonnet) If the germans have no right to take pride in their past, neither do the british or the americans. In fact, the scale of british and american atrocities, surpasses the SS many folds. 'Deutschland über alles' is 'jingle bells', compared to british and american holocaust. Yet germany had the human decency to dump its horrific national anthem, while colonial pride is still dominant, across much of america and england. Radical inhumanity warrants radical reparations, a concept yet foreign to Buck House and Uncle Sam. When you are the largest manufacturer of massacre, making amends should be your existential anthem.”

“Refugees & Colonizers (The Sonnet) Refugees carry culture, Colonizers carry infection. Colonizers are the virus, Refugees are civilization. Refugees live on hope, Colonizers thrive on greed. Refugees dream of acceptance, Colonizers dream supremacy. Refugees are the true free and brave, they carry within the silver lining. There's nothing brave about genocide, no matter the whitewashed thanksgiving. Refugees are practicing healers, living testament of wounds to ointment. Colonizers are proof of darwinism, that from monkeys comes the human race.”

“If we had learned anything over the last decade, it was that there was no other way to defeat slavery, except with a willingness to die for it. We had learned what the Negroes long knew. And thus we merely did what the Negroes themselves had done over and over in the past—in Haiti, in the mountains of Jamaica, and in the swamps of Virginia—but could not do out there on the plains of Kansas. We did what we wanted the Negroes to do in Kansas. By slaying those five pro-slavers on the Pottawatomie that night, we placed hundreds, thousands, of other white men in the same position that we along amongst the whites had held for years: for now every white man in Kansas, anti-slaver and pro-slaver alike, had to be ready to die for his cause.”

“It’s so easy to believe that others deserve their fate, and the fact was that if nobody bothered to help other people then the worst would always happen… She stares out of her window at the busy street, where the British go about their daily business, taking it for granted that they will never be arrested for not voting the right way, praying the right way, dressing the right way or for belonging to a different tribe.”

“If you set five men pulling on a rope, you multiply the strength of each in dividual by five. With death, it's the other way round. If you kill a thousand men, the death of each is a thousand times less important than if he had died alone (Gombrowicz). A specious logic, since it is a matter of quantity in the one case and of quality in the other (the one is multiplied, the other divided, so deep down there is no paradox). But it is a superb proposition all the same! Certain regimes reserve for themselves a monopoly on physical violence. As for the socialists, they reserve a monopoly on moral comedy. That is why it is quite difficult to make fun of them. But this is not something they should be proud of, because when something no longer makes you laugh, it probably means what is ridiculous about it is already deeply buried away, immune from further harm, irreparable. It is against all the rules for power to appropriate a function - ridicule - which commonly belongs to the sphere of manners and which is normally the province of the public mind”

“If A Tree Falls (Sonnet) If a tree falls in the forest, but nobody hears it, did it really fall! If children are bombed to death, but it's omitted from the news, did the children really die! If people are massacred by law, but it's not on Netflix, is it really a genocide! If democracy is dismantled piece by piece, but by government decree, is it really illegal! If the world is burnt to cinders, but the privileged castles stay intact, is the world really burning!”

“But GOD was above them, who laughed his Enemies and the Enemies of his People to Scorn, making them as a fiery Oven: Thus were the Stout Hearted spoiled, having slept their last Sleep, and none of their Men could find their Hands: Thus did the LORD judge among the Heathen, filling the Place with dead Bodies!”

“Let my silence grow with noise as pregnant mothers grow with life. Let my silence permeate these walls as sunlight permeates a home. Let the silence rise from unwatered graves and craters left by bombs. Let the silence rise from empty bellies and surge from broken hearts. The silence of the hidden and forgotten. The silence of the abused and tortured. The silence of the persecuted and imprisoned. The silence of the hanged and massacred. Loud as all the sounds can be, let my silence be loud so the hungry may eat my words and the poor may wear my words. Loud as all the sounds can be, let my silence be loud so I may resurrect the dead and give voice to the oppressed. My silence speaks.”

“A place for the newly weds and nearly deads I'm counting the stones I hope you know I love you. Got a lot of friends 6 feet under us. Counting down the days till we join the party. Thoughts of your nightmare projected through mine... Breathing in these lies is no surprise These evil things are all we know Lets take these lives where we want to go. The future is our prize, when the stars align. Ghouls and ghosts will haunt my soul but they will never take me. Before I go, I want to show that we can make a difference. We've got some dumb perceptions. But I've got the death connection... All the hate that you have... Just throw it away Life is meant for more, But we're too distracted.. Too caught up in the anger and judgment.. Caught up in the web of lies I've heard these things keep our blood boiling, Keeps us alive, and moving forward... If that's the case I was born a dead man. And I'm forever a ghost. Hatred is something that we're brought up to see. Now everybody's looking at me I hope they know... They won't get their satisfaction.”

“{From Lindsey's address at the funeral of renowned scientist Luther Burbank. Burbank was one of the most beloved people in the early 20th century due to his countless contributions to humanity, but when, in an interview, he revealed that he was an atheist, the public quickly turned on him, sending him hundreds of death threats. Upset and grief stricken, the kind-hearted Burbank tried to respond to every letter amiably, a task that ultimately led to his death} . . . Luther Burbank had a philosophy that actually works for human betterment, that dares to challenge the superstition, hypocrisy, and sham, which so often have worked for cruelties, inquisitions, wars and massacres. Superstition that stood across the road of Progress, commanded, not by a god or gods, but the meanest devils that we know--Ignorance, Intolerance, Bigotry, Fanaticism, and Hate. The prejudiced beneficiaries of organized theology refused to see what Burbank, the gifted child of Nature, saw with a vision as crystal as theirs is dense and dark. And so they assailed him. One of the saddest spectacles of our times is the effort of hidebound theologians, still desperately trying to chain us to the past--in other forms that would still invoke the inquisitions, the fears, and the bigotries of the dark ages, and keep the world in chains. The chains of lies, hypocrisies, taboos, and the superstitions, fostered by the dying, but still the organized, relentless outworn theology of another age. They refuse to see that in their stupid lust for power they are endangering all that is good.”

“I think that certain emotions can compromise you when you’re at war. If you stop to mourn the dead, or even to breathe in what you’ve done, you’ll be dead as well. Your brain goes to a primitive region, one inaccessible to feelings beyond pure anger and pure fear. Your brain is reduced to two impulses: fight or flight. Kill or be killed. No room for more delicate feelings. No room for a soul. All you’re thinking about is how to maneuver your body in space so it will survive.”