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42 Playing Our Part Under peaceful conditions a warlike man sets upon himself. —Friedrich Nietzsche He hasn’t left his hut on the hill in so long no one remembers his face. Some say at night he unfurls his beard like a tattered scroll and reads himself to sleep. Others claim age has outlasted gender, that nothing human stirs between his legs—male and female, alpha and omega, he is everything at once. What is certain is that there is no certainty beyond his gaze; he spends his days sharpening the bayonet, measuring the time it takes to disassemble then reassemble his assault rifle. The hands move slow on his gold watch. Thin crosshairs mark his chest. And so our factories whir incessantly, mixing the sulfur, the saltpeter. And so we bury our dead with pride. We fight like this to keep the dream alive. ...

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