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Beware! Freedom is on the march! It marches by land, it marches by air, it marches by sea. You will hear no drumbeat. Except the puny voice of a puny man, safely tucked in a distant land. The tiny voice will make clear its wishes, in the name of democracy, amid the din of silence. You shall succomb to those wishes, or the voice will give Freedom the order to march. And when Freedom arrives, there will be blossoms from heaven, a throng with open arms, jubilant dancing in the streets. You'll see. The voice betrays no doubt.
The hour passes, and the tiny voice is true to its word. Freedom, forward! You will not hear heavy boots on ancient sand. It will come suddenly and unexpectedly. Launched from great ships drifting not far from your shores, single-minded cruise missiles know what they want and know where to go. When they finally arrive, you will be shocked and you will be awed. Sleek bombers will fly so high you will not see them, and their bombs will come as lightning from heaven, striking targets at will. Freedom is on the march!
Freedom is on the march, and it marches with the brave sons and daughters of a proud people in whose name the tiny, tiny voice speaks. Freedom is on the march, and it marches with tanks, it marches with efficient guns, it marches with embedded reporters. Freedom is on the march, and it marches on primetime TV, with retired generals giving tactical commentary in modern, if not gaudy, war rooms. Freedom is on the march, and it marches amidst a disemboweled media. They do not care to be traitors, so they do not care to question, or be critical, or to think. Freedom is on the march, and it marches amidst profound silence. Freedom is on the march, therefore no bodies will be shown! Showing them will just ruin dinner, anyway, in that far and distant land.
The march didn't take long, not long at all. And at last Freedom arrives! Evil has been defeated! The tiny voice speaks to you: "Freedom is my god's gift to mankind, and I am my god's prophet!" And it speaks to its people: "The march of Freedom will keep your children safe!" So bring out the flowers, commence your shouts of joy, celebrate with dancing in the streets! Freedom has arrived!
But wait, what's this? Freedom has not stopped the killing. Your children still suffer. And their angel was just mudered. The voice spoke too soon, the infallible prophet. The cowardly bastard. Freedom's job is not done. Freedom is still on the march! It marches by land, it marches by air, it marches by sea.
Freedom is on the march! Get the hell out of it's way! Who knew Freedom could be so terrifying?
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