(khronic)

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.