Next day? Kill 100, their casualty- ONE. It's fair to them! They are "RIGHT" that's right, far to the right of the Reich!
Charles Manson was abused by his mother, unfairly used, imprisoned most of his life, came out a monster-killed on sight. Too bad for all when folks get screwed; they're twisted with a short, hot fuse. often it is their children too Israelists , they've got a clue they're monsters, but they've paid their dues, if you piss 'em off, that's death to you.
Think a sec, this guy's top dog on international tv; all world leaders, their people too are watching to see what he'll do.
And, straight-faced, no hesitation, he's playing teacher and this is his "lesson."
if the parallels were less obvious, or were eerie when recalled; if our appetites for the barbarous did not spring, full-formed, from a lust to fight and fall; if, when hope was bounteous, unheard were Furies' calls; if from the rubble piteous "enemy" cries did not enthrall
if enemies were friends and we lived long enough to hear a glacier's second song, would we then needs pursue the peace to ensure long life is sweet?
if endlessly creating our own feasts and famines were not our history,our chosen fate, we would have stopped conspiring to make our own expiring but an unseemly sacrifice to hate
dead children laid beside their mothers, cries and screams from mourners; living only loss, our own or others, refusing or unable to rise out of our fable: "The powerful can triumph, possess everything, turn the bloody tables and suck good life from evil"
no volunteers for enduring a life long enough for learning from the hanging and the burning? that life in peace and contemplation obviates the lying desperation for expiation?
those who love the war and gore and name their weapons "Predator" display the human evolution: our guises, self-deception achieve high sophistication, yet, we are the same as we ever were and it's our weapons rise to heaven.
not a vision into forward time emerging from a dream: not killers' drones nor minds so fine will ever start the meme of our flying, high and free, of our own deathly vices.