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Ufficiale Il garage delle Mod
ufficiale
"Negata è la verità, languono i veri sentimenti, la speranza non anima più i passi di chi cammina, le risa degli idioti risuonano ovunque, su ogni fronte è scritta la morte dello spirito."
"On the coast of the Martinaise Inlet, in a small weather-beaten stave church built 380 years ago by settlers from the Occident, most likely to guard against an anomaly at its centre, an officer of the RCM is contorting his body into idiotically rigid shapes, as he invents the future of dance music... It's the hardest anyone has ever danced."
War…has changed. It's no longer about nations, ideologies, or ethnicity. It's an endless series of proxy battles, fought by mercenaries and machines. War - and its consumption of life - has become a well-oiled machine. The age of deterrence has become the age of control, all in the name of averting catastrophe from weapons of mass destruction, and he who controls the battlefield, controls history. When the battlefield is under total control, war becomes routine.
