The III Percent Mission Statement: Rightful liberty is unobstructed action according to our will
within limits drawn around us by the equal rights of others. ~ Thomas Jefferson
In the absence of orders, go find something Evil and kill it!
Enemies of Liberty are ruthless. To own your Liberty, you'd better come harder than your enemies..
Nope...Anything left at the worksite could possibly be tracked back to origin.
Besides it's better to leave em guess'n...Kinda like the scary movies. You know some shit is gonna happen, you just don't know when and the anticipation eats at you.
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rage at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Nope...Anything left at the worksite could possibly be tracked back to origin.
ReplyDeleteBesides it's better to leave em guess'n...Kinda like the scary movies. You know some shit is gonna happen, you just don't know when and the anticipation eats at you.
A BoR card would be just right...
ReplyDeleteCIII
Do not go gentle into that good night,
ReplyDeleteOld age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.