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~Hoozyrdady
When the terrorist, naked from the waist up—what’s up with that? Did he see too many Tarzan movies as a little Jihadist child?—emerged from the bathroom with a rifle, decades of solemn advice from “the authorities” flaked away like dust under a power washer. The authorities on that French train did a Monty Pythonesque King Arthur: “run away! Run away!” Run they did, locking doors behind them, apparently imagining they were safe, or at least that the Islamist alligator would eat them last.
Go read.
Think about it.