Great post!
Despotism carries a distinct aroma. For me it is the aroma of pooled blood on dusty concrete. Much pooled blood. The memory of it will never leave me. I was there. “Shook hands with the Devil,” and did my time in those places. The Congo, Liberia, Zaire...Nobody will ever convince me free men would be better off defenseless, and dependent upon the “kindness of strangers.”