A lot of this statement reminds me of Malcom X’s words:
You don’t stick a knife in a man’s back 9 inches then pull it out 6 inches there’s no progress. If you pull it out all the way that’s not progress. The progress is healing the wound that’s below, that the blow made. And they haven’t even begun to pull the knife out, much less pull, heal the wound. They won’t even admit the knife is there.
It’s kind of solemn in a way honestly. It’s perfectly logical but I can’t help feel at least a little melancholic after that last sentence.
The US has stabbed a knife so far into Korea that it can only really be amputated now. A needless separation that’s morphed into an unrecognizable state of affairs.
It’s these more benign evils that result from capitalist imperialism that I think churn my stomach the most. They just stick with me for some reason and instill a greater sense of hopelessness than any of the brutality. At least the viciousness can fuel spite, whereas sad slow crumbling offers a numbness to the senses.
I get a similar feeling in between my rage whenever I think of Syria, and how I will likely never have the opportunity to visit again on my lifetime. Just faded memories a decade and a half past is all I have for experiencing my father’s homeland.
A lot of this statement reminds me of Malcom X’s words:
It’s kind of solemn in a way honestly. It’s perfectly logical but I can’t help feel at least a little melancholic after that last sentence.
The US has stabbed a knife so far into Korea that it can only really be amputated now. A needless separation that’s morphed into an unrecognizable state of affairs.
It’s these more benign evils that result from capitalist imperialism that I think churn my stomach the most. They just stick with me for some reason and instill a greater sense of hopelessness than any of the brutality. At least the viciousness can fuel spite, whereas sad slow crumbling offers a numbness to the senses.
I get a similar feeling in between my rage whenever I think of Syria, and how I will likely never have the opportunity to visit again on my lifetime. Just faded memories a decade and a half past is all I have for experiencing my father’s homeland.