Intrepid investigative journalist D. Beres, on a quest to find something to indict (preferably of the blistering kind) the Czech Republic with, travels to the wild Moravian hinterland and discovers...and discovers.... injustice! The injustice is so deep, so structurally rooted in the pysche of the oppressed, that it is met with shrugs of indifference!
This is exactly how Engels felt when he confronted the Irish working class for the first time in that fateful year of 1844.
You are right: we owe strings, silly strings of thought processes, to this country. Be the voice. Be the voice of the voiceless.
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Davis
Nov 21, 2009
12:34 p.m.
Intrepid investigative journalist D. Beres, on a quest to find something to indict (preferably of the blistering kind) the Czech Republic with, travels to the wild Moravian hinterland and discovers...and discovers.... injustice! The injustice is so deep, so structurally rooted in the pysche of the oppressed, that it is met with shrugs of indifference!
This is exactly how Engels felt when he confronted the Irish working class for the first time in that fateful year of 1844.
You are right: we owe strings, silly strings of thought processes, to this country. Be the voice. Be the voice of the voiceless.