No.249977
a bunch of words
No.249982
>“Shut up before you make me puke! Maybe you’ve got a pretty house. So
what? And maybe you’re not a bad old guy. Smart, and refined, and
everything just right. But smug, man, so sure of your place. So sure that you
fit right in. With everything around you. Like this village of yours, with its
twenty generations of ancestors just like you. Twenty generations without a
conscience, without a heart. What a family tree! And now here you are, the
last, perfect branch. Because you are, you’re perfect. And that’s why I hate
you. That’s why I’m going to bring them here, tomorrow. The grubbiest
ones in the bunch. Here, to your house. You’re nothing to them, you and all
you stand for. Your world doesn’t mean a thing. They won’t even try to
understand it. They’ll be tired, man. Tired and cold. And they’ll build a fire
with your big wooden door. And they’ll crap all over your terrace, and wipe
their hands on your shelves full of books. And they’ll spit out your wine,
and eat with their fingers from all that nice pewter hanging inside on your
wall. Then they’ll squat on their heels and watch your easy chairs go up in
smoke. And they’ll use your fancy bedsheets to pretty themselves up in. All
your things will lose their meaning. Your meaning, man. What’s beautiful
won’t be, what’s useful they’ll laugh at, what’s useless they won’t even
bother with. Nothing’s going to be worth a thing. Except maybe a piece of
string on the floor. And they’ll fight over it, and tear the whole damn place
apart. … Yes, it’s going to be tremendous! So go on, beat it. Fuck off!”
Kek, its kraykray how he predicted pajeets taking over 50 years ago
No.249984
>>249982this triggers the german
No.249989
>>249984its okay, the libtard was dealt with in the very next paragraph
>I’ve always led a rather quiet life. A professor of literature who loved his work, that’s all. No war ever called me to serve, and, frankly, the spectacle of pointless butchery makes me ill. I wouldn’t have made a very good soldier, I’m afraid. Still, had I been with Actius, once upon a time, I think I would have reveled in killing my share of Hun. And with the likes of Charles Martel, and Godfrey of Bouillon, and Baldwin the Leper, I’m sure I would have shown a certain zeal in poking my blade through Arab flesh. I might have fallen before Byzantium, fighting by Constantine Dragasès’s side. But God, what a horde of Turks I would have cut down before I gasped my last! Besides, when a man is convinced of his cause, he doesn’t die quite so easily! See, there I am, springing back to life in the ranks of the Teutons, hacking the Slav to shreds. And there, leaving Rhodes with Villiers de l’Isle-Adam and his peerless little band, my white cloak blazoned with the cross, my sword dripping blood. Then sailing with Don Juan of Austria, off to even the score at Lepanto. Ah, what a splendid slaughter! … But soon there’s nothing left for me to do. A few trifling skirmishes now and again, none of them too well thought of these days. Like the War Between the States, when my side is defeated and I join the Ku Klux Klan to murder myself some blacks. A nasty business, I admit. Not quite so bad with Kitchener, though, skewering the Mahdi’s Moslem fanatics, spilling their guts. … But the rest is all current events, a sad little joke. Most of it has already slipped my mind. Perhaps I’ve done my bit, killing a pinch of Oriental at the Berlin gates. A dash of Vietcong here, of Mau Mau there. A touch of Algerian rebel to boot. At worst, some leftist or other, finished off in a police van, or some vicious Black Panther. Yes, it’s all become so terribly ugly. No fanfares anymore, no flags, no hosannas … Oh well, you’ll have to excuse an old professor’s pedantic prattle. But you see, I too have stopped thinking and just want to tell you where I stand. You’re right, I’ve never killed a soul. Much less any of the types I’ve just conjured up, all of them standing here before me, at last, in your flesh, all rolled into one. But now I’m going to live those battles over, all at once, those battles that I feel so much a part of, deep in my soul, and I’m going to act them out, right here, all by myself, with one single shot. Like this!Wow, hes literally me!