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Flinging
the
history
of
inflicted
pain
into
the
perfect
teeth
of
those
who
glibly
counsel
us
to
live
in
the
moment,
I
am
forced
to
remember
how
much
of
that
pain
was
caused
by
persons
who
did
no
such
thing;
that
is,
by
those
so
bloated
with
duty
and
futurity
that
they
puked
all
over
history.
I
must
rein
in
my
horses
at
the
point
of
collision
(and
intellectual
collusion)
with
the
sacred
obligations
of
victorious
warriors,
the
glorious
destinies
of
the
proletarian
state
and
the
master
race,
not
to
mention
the
prerogatives
of
the
one
true
faith.
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