A one-time, would-be Revolutionist, whilst having a few, no make that many, confided to a City General the way to keep any Real Rebels from hanging around the edges of town: “Just go out,” he said, “and paint the Bushes beige.”
One aspect of the Real Revolution is right there between the partners.
A Real Revolutionist never actually hates the foe. (How could he dislike mere resistance when that is how HE himself began?)
Out in the glorious Bushes, much talk signals little sense of duty.
This may sound obvious at first, but I’ll note it just the same: If you don’t know what you’re talking about – don’t.
Only the Revolutionist can continually live with the fear of the known.