Real Revolutionists are always jumping onto trains after they’ve already started, and leaping off well before they’ve stopped.
A Revolutionist’s quadroscopic sight is the TRUE universal solvent.
In this journey, some have attempted to call “life,” we seem to have both water and wine, and the Revolutionist knows he must continually add wine TO his wine until there is no more; until he has reached the point of vino correcto, vino perfecto; the stronger fortified to the point of
“So, okay,” sez this one guy who apparently had once read some revolutionary material, apparently, “So, okay,” sez he, “Let’s say that all Men’s consciousness is NOT equal, but then, okay, what if those with the least, or even NONE, are the only ones who ever discuss the subject of consciousness?”
What do you figure is the half-life of stupidity?