“I am a warrior, so that my son may be a merchant, so that his son may be a poet.” -- John Quincy Adams
"Tough times make strong men, strong men make easy times, easy times make weak men." -- From “Those Who Remain” by the author G. Michael Hopf.
LINK TO COMMENT THREAD: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QhHBjGkTfvs&lc=UgwHxZg7LO05wpRkz6h4AaABAg
Reply makes a point, notwithstanding the W40K theme phrasing.
The exact definition of "Tough times make strong men, strong men make easy times, easy times make weak men", our world would be a disgrace to the Imperium of Men, precisely because of the excess of "poets" and "philosophers" belching virtue and trying discredit and erase the achievements of strong men of the past with hypocritical social justice, deconstruction of the traditions of manhood, courage and honesty.
I say fuck drug addicted poets, we need more guards in this world, engineers, artisans and merchants, people who create and defend rather than those who complain and criticize contributing nothing while feeding off the work of others.
Long live the Imperium of Men and glory to the Astra Militarum!!!!
"The Price Of A Mile"
Hear the sound of a machine-gun
Hear it echo in the night
Mortals firing rains the scene
Scars the fields
That once were green
It's a stalemate at the frontline
Where the soldiers rest in mud
Roads and houses
All is gone
There is no glory to be won
Know that many men will suffer
Know that many men will die
Half a million lives at stake
Ask the fields of Passchendaele
And as the night falls the general calls
And the battle carries on and on
How long?
What is the purpose of it all
What's the price of a mile?
Thousands of feet march to the beat
It's an army on the march
Long way from home
Paying the price in young men's lives
Thousands of feet march to the beat
It's an army in despair
Knee-deep in mud
Stuck in the trench with no way out
Thousands of machine-guns
Kept on firing through the night
Mortars blazed and wrecked the scene
Guns in the fields that once were green
Still a deadlock at the frontline
Where the soldiers die in mud
Roads and houses since long gone
Still no glory has been won
Know that many men has suffered
Know that many men has died
Six miles of ground has been won
Half a million men are gone
And as the men crawled the general called
And the killing carried on and on
How long?
What's the purpose of it all?
What's the price of a mile?
Thousands of feet march to the beat
It's an army on the march
Long way from home
Paying the price in young men's lives
Thousands of feet march to the beat
It's an army in despair
Knee-deep in mud
Stuck in the trench with no way out
Young men are dying
They pay the price
Oh how they suffer
So tell me what's the price of a mile
That's the price of a mile
Thousands of feet march to the beat
It's an army on the march
Long way from home
Paying the price in young men's lives
Thousands of feet march to the beat
It's an army in despair
Knee-deep in mud
Stuck in the trench with no way out