I’m currently listening to Erik Larson’s In the Garden of Beasts in which the tale of the American diplomat to Berlin in 1933 is witnessing atrocities and excusing them as singular moments of violence by lone actors, not the ramping up of unfettered power by fascists.
Don’t look away, don’t ignore these moments where the mask slips.
I’m currently listening to Erik Larson’s In the Garden of Beasts in which the tale of the American diplomat to Berlin in 1933 is witnessing atrocities and excusing them as singular moments of violence by lone actors, not the ramping up of unfettered power by fascists.
Don’t look away, don’t ignore these moments where the mask slips.
I’m currently listening to Erik Larson’s In the Garden of Beasts in which the tale of the American diplomat to Berlin in 1933 is witnessing atrocities and excusing them as singular moments of violence by lone actors, not the ramping up of unfettered power by fascists.
Don’t look away, don’t ignore these moments where the mask slips.
The mask is fully off and has been for a very long time. We have seen the face of bloodthirsty fascism. Nobody cares.