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“This is my letter to the world….”
Real World Address
Only by Fire is Fascism Finished
Year upon year in Earth’s darker forests,
Heaped at the foot of the trees,
Dry drifts of wood rot and leaf fall increase
Which sunlight shall never seize.
The vampire by sunlight or stake.
The wolfman by silver in bone.
The demon by bell, book, and pentagram.
The fascist by fire alone.
The ash that descends in the September skies
Where the leapers swam down the stones?
Best answered by bombs from mid-heaven at prayer
With that fire which hollows the bones.
The vampire by sunlight or stake.
The wolfman by silver in bone.
The demon by bell, book, and pentagram.
The fascist by fire alone.
If their god decrees war, God’s war shall prevail.
His lessons are seared in His stone.
No dreams shall defer, nor wishes erase,
The answers that burn in the bone.
The vampire by sunlight or stake.
The wolfman by silver in bone.
The demon by bell, book, and pentagram.
The fascist by fire alone.
Only by Fire is Fascism Finished.
This Sin is demanded that Your Line may Live.
Only through Fire is Freedom Reborn.
Each generation pulls the Sword from the Stone.
— Van der Leun
A pick to dig out and a lantern to find honest men
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ARTIST: CASEY KLAHN
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Too bad. Another example of how the Left destroys everything it touches. Obviously never intended to be a career type job, but rather the first rung of the ladder acquainting individuals with the work-a-day world. Given how tenuous the grasp of acceptable, normative behavior is with so many of today’s yutes, I much prefer them not having any contact with my food.
Flippy will never work out. For one thing, he can’t spit on your burger.
My first “real job” was in 1970 at the age of 15 at the only McDonalds in town and the hourly wage was a dollar something and I was glad as hell to have it. 15 years and 32 jobs later I was running my own business and never worked for “wages” again. As Richard above said, it was a rung.
And I agree, I wouldn’t let most of them mow my yard. If they want to touch my food they’ll have to come into my kitchen and to get into the kitchen they’ll have to dodge a continuous hail of shrapnel.
Let em fuk theirselves.