“At the risk of seeming ridiculous, let me say that the true revolutionary is guided by a great feeling of love. It is impossible to think of a genuine revolutionary lacking this quality.”
“Hatred is an element of struggle; relentless hatred of the enemy that impels us over and beyond the natural limitations of man and transform us into effective, violent, selective, and cold killing machines. Our soldiers must be thus; a people without hatred cannot vanquish a brutal enemy.”

“One must endure – become hard, toughen oneself – without losing tenderness.”
“Hay que endurecerse sin perder jamas la ternura”

“The Expedition you are appointed to command is to be directed against the hostile tribes of the Six Nations of Indians, with their associates and adherents. The immediate objects are the total destruction and devastation of their settlements, and the capture of as many prisoners of every age and sex as possible. I will be essential to ruin their crops now in the ground and prevent their planting more.
I would recommend, that some post in the center of the Indian Country, should be occupied with all expedition, with sufficient quantity of provisions whence parties should be detached to lay waste all the settlements around, with instructions to do it in the most effectual manner, that the country may not be merely overrun, but destroyed.
But you will not by any means listen to any overture of peace before the total ruinment of their settlement is effected. Our future security will be in their inability to injure us and in the terror with which the severity of the chastisement they receive will inspire them.”

From In defense of Lost Causes – Slavoj Zizek – page 466

Delicious, tender, pink,
fresh piece of garbage.

Born of lymph nodes,
fats, ovaries, testicles
and other mammals’ inner.

You go around and around,
waiting for ketchup and mustard.
Food of democracies,
unemployed, doctors
and 7 Elevens.

Your oily flesh,
melted in flour, water and saliva,
activates the sybaritic spirits
of all generations.

“Completo,” “Pancho,” “Salchicha,”
they call you in the Spanish language,
while they feast on you with cabbage,
onion and avocado.

You are the symbol of fast food,
practicality and convenience.
Feeding the dreams of an industrialized
High Tech. Mythology.

Perhaps the Sufis envisioned you and wrote.
“The garbage of one is the treasure of another.”

And after all these years,
with pleasure I eat you,
with nothing else
than mayonnaise and Coca-Cola.

From Bluff Fandango 1999 – Gathering of Poets and Writers.