A friend of mine, that I had known for some time, came up one day with an old guitar. I don't know where he got it, I don't know how long he'd had it, but he knew about two chords on it. He proceeded to teach them to me, and then we proceeded to go crazy over music.
I am continually fascinated at the difficulty intelligent people have in distinguishing what is controversial from what is merely offensive.
Despair and frustration will not shake our belief that the resistance is the only way of liberation.

