someday, in the swirl of life, you will love them all and you'll be a communist, and you will thank God communism, like jazz, can never be defeated. they live in our marrow and wait to explode into factories of freedom and joy. they are deep halls of heroes whom no storm could touch, with antennae like lightning rods receiving God's white-hot truth, transforming it into soft blue static, so we can shock each other awake.
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