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"An idea has just occurred to me," said Gay, "which Jack's narrative has suggested. " "Oh God!" exclaimed Jack, paralysed by her cries. The Widow and her Child II. The drunken beachcombers; the one-sided education; the utter loneliness of a white child without playfellows, human or animal, without fairy stories, who for days was left alone while the father visited neighbouring islands, these pictures sank far below their actual importance. The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber. Beauty doesn’t mean, never has meant, anything—anything at all but you.

Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ3Ljc3LjQgLSAyMS0wOS0yMDI0IDA4OjQ3OjI4IC0gODQwMjM2NTk4

This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 19-09-2024 13:30:20

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