How do I dare? Where to begin in these two minutes I’m borrowing of your precious time – perhaps the one time in life you’ll ever hear me, read me, or see me – to do what little I can
to dismantle as many of their epic lies as I can with what’s left of my strength, of my voice, of my time, my meager words, and what precious life is left? Never enough to fight against the decades and the damage of their violent oppression. And yet perhaps what we do have in common, beyond this moment, beyond your passing glance, is we choose the fighting path. We will not bow our heads at the altar of false wars, won’t drink of their cup… the blood of humankind. They say starve or beg for their poisoned bread. We will not lick the boots of the one percent. We choose the fighting path.