The mainstream media tried to spin a narrative that the masked thugs who set the Berkeley campus on fire were just "protesters" and even "anti-fascists." But the real fascists were the rioters who assaulted those who'd come to hear Milo Yiannopolous speak.
By the end of WW2 there were no innocent civilians in Dresden, Hiroshima, or Nagasaki…..or in Auschwitz. And that is why identitarian politics suck. These “snowflkes” who celebrate their uniqueness are unwilling to see that in others who disagree with them, or who they disagree with.
One of my oldest friends is a classic stereotype angry Jewish Marxist intellectual with round Leon Trotsky glasses who spends half the year in Cuba, thinks America is the worst terrorist on the planet, and thinks George Soros is the biggest philantropist on the planet. He is a doppleganger for Brother Nathaniel (a former Jew who is now the worlds most rabid anti-Semite), the voice inflection is identical and they were born within days of each other. If you saw them together you would swear they were twins. He knows what I am about politically. We have long harangues over coffee and the finest Cuban liquor, like study partners at a yeshiva. He is a closer friend to me than all but one of my syblings and relatives.We have known each other for fifty years and trust each other with house keys.
In this conflict each side is blaming the other saying that it is inflamatory rhetoric and that speech must be suppressed. Unfortunately the only thing there is after free speech is force. My friend and I are living proof that force is not necessary ….not even after the inflamatory rhetoric fueled by two cups of weapon grade Arabica coffee and two shots of Cuban Legindario rum elixer….oy veh.
“And I’d discuss the holy books with the learned men …several hours everyday…and THAT…would be the sweetest thing of all… (sigh)…. sie ist bin ein Rothschilde dabydoobydooby dum” …fiddler on the roof.
Great song, Fraser. Too bad the French don’t live up to it. What a pathetic bunch. I don’t know why the Swedes and French and most of Europe don’t just hold hands and walk in to the sea and get it over with. Hang a sign: “Under New Management. Kaffirs need not apply.”
They should start worrying about the well-armed “Just Regular Guy” Alpha males who won’t take beatings from parent’s-basement-dwelling SJW betas.
here is a translation
Song All Songs
•It is typical that the refrain is repeated after each stanza.
•At public French performances today, including sporting events, you will often find that only the first verse and the refrain are sung.
•On occasion, the first, sixth, and seventh verses are sung. Again, the refrain is repeated between each.
French / English Translation by Laura K. Lawless
Verse 1:
Allons enfants de la patrie,
Le jour de gloire est arrivé !
Contre nous de la tyrannie
L’étendard sanglant est levé ! (bis)
Entendez-vous dans les campagnes,
Mugir ces féroces soldats ?
Ils viennent jusque dans nos bras
Égorger nos fils, nos compagnes !
Verse 1: English
Let’s go children of the fatherland,
The day of glory has arrived!
Against us tyranny’s
Bloody flag is raised! (repeat)
In the countryside, do you hear
The roaring of these fierce soldiers?
They come right to our arms
To slit the throats of our sons, our friends!
Refrain:
Aux armes, citoyens !
Formez vos bataillons !
Marchons ! Marchons !
Qu’un sang impur
Abreuve nos sillons !
Refrain:
Grab your weapons, citizens!
Form your battalions!
Let us march! Let us march!
May impure blood
Water our fields!
Verse 2:
Que veut cette horde d’esclaves,
De traîtres, de rois conjurés ?
Pour qui ces ignobles entraves,
Ces fers dès longtemps préparés ? (bis)
Français ! pour nous, ah ! quel outrage !
Quels transports il doit exciter !
C’est nous qu’on ose méditer
De rendre à l’antique esclavage !
Verse 2:
This horde of slaves, traitors, plotting kings,
What do they want?
For whom these vile shackles,
These long-prepared irons? (repeat)
Frenchmen, for us, oh! what an insult!
What emotions that must excite!
It is us that they dare to consider
Returning to ancient slavery!
Verse 3:
Quoi ! ces cohortes étrangères
Feraient la loi dans nos foyers !
Quoi ! ces phalanges mercenaires
Terrasseraient nos fiers guerriers ! (bis)
Grand Dieu ! par des mains enchaînées
Nos fronts sous le joug se ploiraient !
De vils despotes deviendraient
Les maîtres de nos destinées !
Verse 3:
What! These foreign troops
Would make laws in our home!
What! These mercenary phalanxes
Would bring down our proud warriors! (repeat)
Good Lord! By chained hands
Our brows would bend beneath the yoke!
Vile despots would become
The masters of our fate!
Verse 4:
Tremblez, tyrans ! et vous, perfides,
L’opprobre de tous les partis,
Tremblez ! vos projets parricides
Vont enfin recevoir leur prix ! (bis)
Tout est soldat pour vous combattre,
S’ils tombent, nos jeunes héros,
La France en produit de nouveaux,
Contre vous tout prêts à se battre !
Verse 4:
Tremble, tyrants! and you, traitors,
The disgrace of all groups,
Tremble! Your parricidal plans
Will finally pay the price! (repeat)
Everyone is a soldier to fight you,
If they fall, our young heros,
France will make more,
Ready to battle you!
Verse 5:
Français, en guerriers magnanimes,
Portez ou retenez vos coups !
Épargnez ces tristes victimes,
A regret s’armant contre nous. (bis)
Mais ces despotes sanguinaires,
Mais ces complices de Bouillé,
Tous ces tigres qui, sans pitié,
Déchirent le sein de leur mère !
Verse 5:
Frenchmen, as magnanimous warriors,
Bear or hold back your blows!
Spare these sad victims,
Regretfully arming against us. (repeat)
But not these bloodthirsty despots,
But not these accomplices of Bouillé,
All of these animals who, without pity,
Tear their mother’s breast to pieces!
Verse 6:
Amour sacré de la patrie,
Conduis, soutiens nos bras vengeurs !
Liberté, Liberté chérie,
Combats avec tes défenseurs ! (bis)
Sous nos drapeaux, que la victoire
Accoure à tes mâles accents !
Que tes ennemis expirants
Voient ton triomphe et notre gloire !
Verse 6:
Sacred love of France,
Lead, support our avenging arms!
Liberty, beloved Liberty,
Fight with your defenders! (repeat)
Under our flags, let victory
Hasten to your manly tones!
May your dying enemies
See your triumph and our glory!
Verse 7:
Nous entrerons dans la carrière
Quand nos aînés n’y seront plus ;
Nous y trouverons leur poussière
Et la trace de leurs vertus. (bis)
Bien moins jaloux de leur survivre
Que de partager leur cercueil,
Nous aurons le sublime orgueil
De les venger ou de les suivre !
Verse 7:
We will enter the pit
When our elders are no longer there;
There, we will find their dust
And the traces of their virtues. (repeat)
Much less eager to outlive them
Than to share their casket,
We will have the sublime pride
Of avenging them or following them!