“You [Robespierre] will follow us soon. Your house will be beaten down and salt sown in the place where it stood.”
Georges Danton, on his way to the guillotine in April 1794
News that I missed, courtesy of The Babylon Bee:
SAN FRANCISCO, CA—In a solemn ceremony outside the LGBTQ+ Center For Love and Tolerance in San Francisco, the letters L, G, T, Q, and the symbol + gathered to execute their former friend and ally “B” for its implication that there are only two genders.
“You have been condemned to death for violating Section 1A of the Political Correctness code,” said L, reading out the sentence, as the B stood bravely in front of the guillotine. “Do you have any last words?”
B then attempted to say its last words but was silenced. “No, you don’t get to say anything,” said T. “You’re CANCELED.” Q then snapped its fingers in a Z formation.
G donned its executioner’s hood and gathered its axe. G didn’t need the axe because they were killing B with a guillotine, but G said it completes the outfit and makes it look “fabulous.” G forced B down on the ground, bent its upper stroke underneath the sharpened blade, and activated the guillotine, instantly slicing B in two.
Go here to read the rest. Like clockwork Leftist revolutions always end in infighting and death. They begin by killing those opposed to them, and end by killing those who agree with them in the ceaseless struggle for power that is a feature of Leftism. For hard core Leftists there is no fixed standard in their world, other than using the power of the State to subdue their enemies.
Edmund Burke, who saw this mad comedy in its first incarnation, described Leftism perfectly:
On this scheme of things, a king is but a man, a queen is but a woman; a woman is but an animal, and an animal not of the highest order. All homage paid to the sex in general as such, and without distinct views, is to be regarded as romance and folly. Regicide, and parricide, and sacrilege, are but fictions of superstition, corrupting jurisprudence by destroying its simplicity. The murder of a king, or a queen, or a bishop, or a father, are only common homicide; and if the people are by any chance, or in any way, gainers by it, a sort of homicide much the most pardonable, and into which we ought not to make too severe a scrutiny.
On the scheme of this barbarous philosophy, which is the offspring of cold hearts and muddy understandings, and which is as void of solid wisdom as it is destitute of all taste and elegance, laws are to be supported only by their own terrors, and by the concern which each individual may find in them from his own private speculations, or can spare to them from his own private interests. In the groves of their academy, at the end of every vista, you see nothing but the gallows.
Burke published his Reflections on the Revolution in France in 1790 when the French Revolution was in its infancy, but he saw unerringly where it was going. Nothing in the following 229 years of Leftist folly would have surprised him in the slightest.