JOHN CONSTANTINE.
𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝚈𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙾 𝙷𝚄𝙼 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙲 𝙲𝙸𝚃𝚈; ᵃ ˢˡᵒᵇᵇᵉʳᶠᵘˡ bellowing ᵒᶠ unbridled 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈, ᵗʰᵉ 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 ᵗʸᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ 𝙳𝙴𝙱𝙰𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙴𝙳 𝚂𝙾𝙱𝙵𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 ᵃ ᵈⁱʳᵗʸ , ˡᵘᵐᵖ ʷᵃᵈᵈᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᴿ ᴱ ᴰ 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐓 - 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐏 — ———— ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵃ 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚕 ᵉᵖⁱˢᵒᵈᵉ ᵒʳ ᵃ CRUEL CELEBRATION ᵒᶠ ˡᵒˢˢ 𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 & 𝖡𝖱𝖮𝖪𝖤𝖭 𝖡𝖮𝖣𝖨𝖤𝖣 𝖵𝖨𝖢𝖳𝖨𝖬𝖲 ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢˡᵉᵃᶻʸ ᵇᵃᵗʰʳᵒᵒᵐ ˢᵗᵃˡˡ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵖᵒʳⁿᵒᵍʳᵃᵖʰⁱᶜ ˢᵐᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ D͟O I͟T Y͟O͟U͟R͟S͟E͟L͟F ᵃᵇᵒʳᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʰᵒᵇᵇʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᵃ 𝙷𝙰𝚄𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶, 𝙻𝙾𝚆 - 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝚆 𝚂𝙾𝙲𝙸𝙴𝚃𝙴𝙻 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙴. ⁱ ᵈᵉᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗᵉ ᵐʸ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵈʳᵉᵈᵍᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃᵖᵃᵗʰʸ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵖᵘˢˢ - ᶠⁱˡˡᵉᵈ , 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐄 ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉʳ ᵒᶠ WHATEVER ᵃⁱʳᵇᵒʳⁿᵉ ᶠᵘᶜᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵈⁱˢᵉᵃˢᵉ ⁱˢ 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵒⁿ ᶜʳᵃᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ , ᶠ̲ⁱ̲ˡ̲ᵗ̲ʰ̲ʸ ᶠ̲ᵘ̲ᶜ̲ᵏ̲ⁱ̲ⁿ’ ˢᵏⁱⁿ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ RELENTLESS TAPEWORM ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵗᵉⁿⁿᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ˢⁿⁱᵛᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵍʳⁱⁿ, [ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ 𝐈 ᶜ̲ᵃ̲ⁿ DO: ⁱ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰⁱˢ 𝙹𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙸𝙴'𝚂 𝚂𝙷𝙸𝚃𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙴, after all. ] ʰᵉ ᶠˡⁱᵖˢ ᵃ ᶜʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᶠⁱⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵃˢ ⁱ ˢᵃᵈᵈˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ ᶻᵉⁱᵗᵍᵉⁱˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ˡⁱᵛᵉʳ ⁻ ˢᵖᵒᵗᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵃᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ ᵒᶠ ᵐ̲ᵃ̲ˢ̲ᵒ̲ⁿ̲ⁱ̲ᶜ ᵃⁿᵈ 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 ᶠᵘᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚑𝚎𝚖.
𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 & 𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐇𝐎𝐋 ᶜˡᵘⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉˡᵘˢⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ 𝙴𝚇 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙸𝚂𝙷 𝙰𝚁𝙼𝙴𝙳 𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙲𝙴'𝚂 ᵈⁱˢʰᵒⁿᵒʳᵃᵇˡᵉ ᶠᵘᶜᵏ ⁻ ᵘᵖ, ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵍ ᵗᵃᵍ ˢᶜᵃᵇᵇᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ TETANUS RUST AND OXIDE ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʳᵘᵉ, ⁱ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ˢᵗʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵛᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵇˡⁱˢᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ kidney infection ᵃⁿᵈ inevitable stroke. ( ᵍᵒ ᵛᵉᵗᵉʳᵃⁿˢ, ᵃᵐ ⁱ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ? ) ᵇᵉʸᵒⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉˡᶠ ⁻ ⁱⁿᵈᵘˡᵍᵉⁿᵗ ˡⁱᵐᵖ ᵈⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ˢᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ’ 𝘞𝘖𝘌 𝘐𝘚 𝘔𝘌 ‘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉˡⁱʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵖⁱʳᵃᶜʸ ᵗᵃⁿᵍᵉⁿᵗˢ, ʰᵉ ᵉᵃʳⁿˢ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵘʳᵇˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵖ̲ᵃ̲ʳ̲ᵗ̲ʸ ᵒ̲ⁿ̲ᵉ cider benders.
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VETERAN: 𝙼𝚢 '𝚎𝚊𝚍'𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙, 𝚜𝚘 𝚢𝚎’ 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚐𝚒'𝚟 𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎, 𝚢𝚎’?
CONSTANTINE: 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎, 𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚎. 𝙱𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗’ 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜.
VETERAN: 𝙰𝚢𝚎, '𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜…
CONSTANTINE: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚞𝚙.
VETERAN: 𝙰𝚑, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗’ 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎, 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗’ 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚗’… 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑’ 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜'𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑’ 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 '𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚘 – 𝚊𝚢𝚎, 𝚢𝚊'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠? 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 '𝚗 𝚝𝚑’ 𝚕𝚘𝚝. 𝙾𝚗𝚎'𝚞𝚟 𝚝𝚑’ 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 … 𝚊𝚑𝚑, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊’ 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎. 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 … 𝙱𝚒𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗’ 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 – 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑’ 𝚋𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗’ 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 … 𝚋𝚞𝚝 …
CONSTANTINE: 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚊'𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚕, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚋, 𝚊𝚢𝚎? 𝚂𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚊’.
𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐄𝐆𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇, ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 ᵃʳᵉ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗ, ᵇᵘᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵒˡᵈ ᶠˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁱ 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 ᵃˡˡ ʰᵉʳ INTIMATE ᶜᵘʳᵛᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗˢ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ˢʰᵉ ᵐⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵐᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢʰᵉᵉⁿ ᵒᶠ ᶠʳᵒˢᵗ ᵍʳᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵐʸ ᵇˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵘˡ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩. —— ˢᵗⁱˡˡ , ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗʳᵉⁿᶜʰᶜᵒᵃᵗ ʳᵒᵐᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜ ⁱˢ ᶜˡᵘᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵍʳᵘᵇᵇʸ ʰᵃⁿᵈ & 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜. ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᶜʰᵒ ᵒᶠ ᵐʸ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵖᵃᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ⁱˢ ᵈʳᵒʷⁿᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵒᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵉⁿˢⁱᵒⁿ ˢʷᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵇˡᵒʷᶠˡʸ ᵃᵗ ᵃ MORGUE ⁱᶠ ⁱ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵐᵃⁿ ᵃ ᵃˡˡᵉʸ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃ dead end : 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎.
❝ WHAT CAN I DO YOU FOR, SIRE ? … ❞
BUT I’M JOHN CONSTANTINE.
𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘺𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰 . . . ᵗʰⁱˢ ˢᵗᵃᵗⁱᶜ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ⁱˢ ˢᵘˢᵖᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ LATE - NIGHT GRAYSCALE ᵗᵘⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ᶠᵒʳᵉᵛᵉʳ immortalized ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉˢ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ᵗᵛ ˢᵗᵃᵗⁱᶜ WINDING ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎. ᵗʰᵉ 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 ⁱˢ 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘦𝘴 ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʷᵒˡˡᵉⁿ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ᵒᶠ FAT POLITICIANS ᵃ ᶠᵉʷ ⁱⁿᶜʰᵉˢ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʷᵒ ⁻ ᵇⁱᵗ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏʷʰᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵉᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶠⁱˣ. A CROOKED - BACKED BLACK BOY LIES DEAD ᵃᵗ ᵐʸ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ , ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ˢᵘᵇᵐᵉʳᵍᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵖᵘᵈᵈˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃᶜᶜᵘᵐᵘˡᵃᵗᵉᵈ open - sore ᶠⁱˡᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉʷᵃᵍᵉ puss , 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒉 ˢᵖʳᵃʷˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉˡᵉˢˢ ᶜᵒʳᵖˢᵉ 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕. ᵗʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᶜᵏ ᶜⁱᵗʸ ⁱˢ ᵃ child ᵈʳᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ⁱᵗˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ , 𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐃 - 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓 ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶜᵗ ʷᵒʳᵗʰʸ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ALL - AMERICAN EMBARASSMENT ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ nixon administration.
𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽: “𝟷𝟶-𝟺. 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚖 [𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙲] 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚃𝚂 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚃𝚂 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚃𝚂 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝙴 — [𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙲] 𝚆𝙴 𝙽𝙴𝙴𝙳 𝚄𝙽𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙼𝙴𝙳𝙸 [𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙲] 𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙰𝚃 — ———— ”
THESE PEOPLE ARE GROWING RESTLESS. ᵃ ᵖᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᶠ wild animals ᵗᵒᵒ ˢᵉˡᶠ ⁻ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ . ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵗᵃˡ ᵇᵃʳˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ barbed cage wires ᵃʳᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ, 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ʷᵉ ᵃˡˡ climax ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵇᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᶠⁱᵉʳʸ ᶜʰᵃᵒˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵛⁱᵒˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ.
TRANSCRIPT OF MAYOR WESLEY FERMIN’S SPEECH , (DECEMBER 6TH, 1988) . 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷 𝙾𝙵 𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙹𝙰𝙷 𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙳𝚆𝙴𝙻𝙻 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝙰𝙽 … 𝚄𝙽–𝚄𝙽𝙵𝙾𝚁𝚃𝚄𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙴 𝙲𝙸𝚁𝙲𝚄𝙼𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝚁𝙸𝚂𝙴 𝙸𝙽 𝙶𝙰𝙽𝙶 𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙸𝚃𝚈 𝙰𝙽𝙳 , 𝙰𝙽𝙳 , 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚁𝙴𝙲𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝚅𝙸𝙾𝙻𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙱𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺𝚂 𝙸𝙽 𝚂𝙾𝚄𝚃𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴 𝙷𝚄𝙱 𝙲𝙸𝚃𝚈 , 𝙱𝚄𝚃 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙸 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝚁𝙴𝙸𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚄𝚃𝙼𝙾𝚂𝚃 𝙸𝙼𝙿𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙸𝚂 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 : 𝙿𝙾𝙻𝙸𝙲𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙺𝚂. 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙼𝚄𝙽𝙸𝚃𝚈 𝚁𝙴𝙷𝙰𝙱𝙸𝙻𝙸𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙺𝚂. 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙰𝙳𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙸𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙺𝚂 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝚈𝙾𝚄'𝚁𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙾 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙺 𝙰𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙶𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴 𝚄𝚂 [𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙴𝚂] 𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙹𝙰𝙷 𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙳𝚆𝙴𝙻𝙻 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝙰 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙶 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚂𝙸𝙼𝙿𝙻𝚈 𝙻𝙾𝚂𝚃 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚆𝙰𝚈 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙵𝙴𝙻𝙻 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙻𝚄𝚃𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝚅𝙸𝙾𝙻𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 , 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚂𝙰𝙳𝙻𝚈 𝚆𝙴 𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝚂𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚂𝙴 𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚁𝙴𝙵𝚄 — ————
LIVERPOOL, NOW. ❝ what can you tell me about this … ❞
