Here is what will happen in regards to the France attacks.

People will shed their crocodile tears. They will chant and light candles. There will be photo ops, and news coverage. The Facebook pictures change, and sympathetic memes will flood the Internet. Everybody will go home feeling like they have stood in solidarity, done some great thing, expended moral courage and spoken truth to power.

They speak lies to the weak, and a week from now they will forget, until summoned for the candle light vigils of another tragedy. They will run for breast cancer, they will stand against terror, they will march against racism — all things that do nothing for the causes in question. Today saying “I supported X” is considered the moral equivalent of a getting your GED.

Feeling morally upright is preferred over *being* morally upright. They are no different than cowards who agitate for war, but refuse to fight, and lay down their arms (indeed, if they even had any in the first place) when the terrorist comes for them.

Neat little rows of skulls for murderous thugs. Good little submissive Dhimmis, bowing to their Jihadi superiors. Those who cannot summon the courage to fight, even when death is assured, are beyond the pale. They are the uber-cowards, the summation of decades of coddling and helicopter parenting.

Let me hold this candle and let the tears stream down my face, despite knowing nothing of the war, a conflict that has lasted well over one thousand years and has claimed more lives than any conflict in human history. Jihad, counter-Crusade, more Jihad and mountains of skulls strewn across the Middle East, stomped on in the name of God, but in the service of money and power, by a “civilization” barely removed from the Iron Age.

We reach for space. They cannot even produce their own bullets. No, they buy the weapons from us, and kill us with them.

But go on, Progressive fools, and hold your candles. Sing your songs. Shed meaningless tears and change your Facebook pictures. Stand in solidarity as the Islamic tide comes for you, seeking not just to kill you, but to erase you and yours from history entirely. Spin your sob stories about making less with your Gender Studies degree than a guy who spent his life learning how to design spaceships.

You, who propose to surrender to Iron Age primitives spinning a story about how God told them to destroy civilization. You, who sacrifice your countries, your people, your culture, in the name of feeling good, like a druggie addicted to roaring emotional highs, stealing from his own family to support his habit.

There was a time when I thought Progressives were merely delusional, and unworthy of my hatred. I have changed my mind. They make me sick. I cannot respect the intellectual coward. I loathe them. And their candelight vigils for solidarity make me wretch.

Sheep for the wolves, every one of them.

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