Minutemen Quotes

We are living in a world where moral climates have no atmosphere.

In the underworld, reality itself has elastic properties and is capable of being stretched into different definitions of the truth.

But this is deception. It’s moving very fast, and just because you can’t see and feel it, doesn’t mean it’s not the truth.

Are you a man with a conscience, or just a shark who will die when you stop moving forward?

People have an amazing ability to cope with the madness of life. It's called denial. It'll take you a good mile, but only if life's horrors stay on the page of the newspaper where they belong.

There was something else amusing about the house: the irony that the most important battle of the American Revolution--the shoot-out at the Old North Bridge--had taken place just outside the residence of the pacifist Ralph Waldo Emerson. True, Emerson was born after the battle in 1803, but his grandfather had been living in the house at the time of the Revolution, and the juxtaposition of such pacifism against such violence struck Paul as a symbol of an eternal truth about American history: Nixon, that goofy Vietnam War mortician, was right: the silent majority ruled (not the rebellious, pacifist fringe); the majority killed for their property; and there was nothing really revolutionary about the minutemen , who won a war and took over the entire country to ultimately build fast-food restaurants and Disneyland while abolitionists, pacifists, hippies, and environmentalists were left to make well-intended flatulent noises--to write poems such as Ginsberg's "Howl"--in books for other defeated noisemakers.

Zbigniew Brzezinski, head of our National Security Council, writes that ‘with the use of computers, human behavior itself will become more determined and subject to deliberate programming,’ and that ‘it will soon be possible to assert almost continuous surveillance over every citizen.’ “I believe that the Nazis and the Minutemen and the Christian movement are going to get very strong, and at the same time there’s going to be a massive depression. I see large masses of people around the world being deliberately starved every day. I see terrible things happening to reduce the population of this earth, so that those who control the corporations don’t have to provide for the needs of the poor.

The best lie was always just short of the truth.

Go shout it on top of the mountain, but don't pretend the mountain is yours.

With the card, there’s a photo of us from the day Yael taught me to box. The selfie in the mirror. I gulp at the image of our bodies together. My heart feels like its pumping tar through my veins. I wish I had the power to free my hands and shape my own life. But I don’t.

In state after state, one portentous incident after another, breathlessly reported in newspapers throughout the country in the days following the election, alarmed even confident Republicans who had insisted that a Lincoln victory could never loosen the bonds that held the Union together. As early as November 9, pro-secession placards appeared on the streets of New Orleans, calling for the formation of a defense corps of Minutemen. Dissidents unfurled palmetto flags in Charleston, where artillery saluted their appearance by opening fire with a defiant fifteen-gun cannonade.

1960 Elections: Richard Nixon vs. John F. Kennedy Before the election, a group within the Christian Right plotted to kill John Kennedy in Van Nuys, California while he was still a candidate. This group was a meld of anti-Castro Cubans, Minutemen and homegrown Nazis. Some were sought by Jim Garrison following the arrest of Clay Shaw for testimony before the New Orleans grand jury. When Garrison forwarded extradition papers for Edgar Eugene Bradley, a member of the group, Governor Ronald Reagan refused to sign them.

We witness in two ways: by life and by word . . . God’s purpose . . , after we have been converted is that we be witnesses to His saving grace and power. We are to be commandoes for Christ. We are to be minute-men for Him.

We’re also the battle-hardened survivors of the Great War who reclaimed Palestine from the Turks,” Longie says. Our leaders are describing the boxers and their sons who are the Newark Minutemen. I swell with pride whenever Longie compares us to King David's mighty warriors. The timin’ is lucky that Longie’s got an army of boxers he can pivot into a band of soldiers for the FBI.

My knuckles look like the inside of a grapefruit, but I punch the bag more. With each hit, I repeat the Newark Minutemen creed: “We train to gain control over our bodies. But to triumph, we wrap our bodies around individual will. With each trial, pain becomes more bearable, motions more familiar, waitin’ more calm. Then it’s our way. Then we are Newark Minutemen.” My limbs begin to feel reconnected to my body. I start to feel whole again.

If we fail today, we might as well throw in the towel. My ears hammer against the roarin’ crowd. We must stop the rallying call for a Nazi Party in America. The last thing we need in the middle of the Depression is a fascist party here to support the one the Nazis are building in Germany. Everyone’s still nursin’ their wounds from the Great War.

The starburst from the rising' sun beams through the canvas hole. It blinds me. I lose control of my own free will. In that moment push the canvas aside, crawl between the man's legs, and search my father's steel eyes. Papa flicks his eyebrows, signaling me to calm.

YAEL; He slides the suitcase and pumps my cap over my eyes and back up again. The crow's feet that bloom into a dozen crinkles around his eyes when he smiles warm me. When my father smiles, nothing in the world can hurt us.

When slave owners claimed they could not join the minutemen because they had to stay home to prevent insurrections, small farmers objected that service in the military was “calculated to exempt the gentlemen and throw the whole burthern on the poor” and that “the Rich wanted the Poor to fight for them, to defend there property, whilst they refused to fight for themselves.”32

fighting right alongside the minute-men at the ready and Paul Revere, the fictional character who was never proven to have ever existed. Yet, one whom we are still expected to believe

They look stern at first, do a lot of scowling, but behind their eyes, once you get them talking, there's a hurt, docile quality, possibly related to past wrongs done them, a quality I associate with the thunked-as-kids: Long ago the world turned on them in some unexpected and unpleasant way, and they are, not unreasonably, expecting that it could happen again at any moment.

I find I've been made sad by Minuteman dread. They take a fact and make the worst of it. This beautiful world, all this magnificence, seems to inspire in them only a fear that the beautiful world will be taken away.

In their music the Minutemen told stories, postulated theories, held debates, aired grievances, and celebrated victories—and did it in a direct, intimate way that flattered the intelligence as well as the soul.

Music journalist Chris Nelson once wrote, “Their friendship formed the living core of the Minutemen, while their loyalty to each other and San Pedro informed the overarching theme of brotherhood that permeates the band’s catalog.

Sometimes the Minutemen got grief for being their own road crew. “But I never thought that you should play up to ‘the princeling,’ ” says Watt, referring to the prototypical pampered rock star. “So what if nobody sees you playing the fuckin’ hero or the star. I never fancied myself like that.

The minutemen soon had to put down their rakes and aprons and pick up their guns. The American Revolutionary War began on April 19, 1775, in Lexington, Massachusetts. The minutemen had clashed with British troops on a road just outside