What a shame that crass libertarians have thoroughly soiled Sade’s language at the tail (2:58) of this brilliant, brilliant monologue in this constantly brilliant work. It’s all I can do to avoid projecting Ron Paul’s little hobgoblin skull over Patrick Magee’s chiseled resolve. Still, more enlightened here than he ever was in print, Sade dances between unmatchable zeal and paralyzing skepticism for Revolution. This is a dance that I myself know very well. I’m sure that most of my friends (and probably philosophers in general) do as well. Dig in, fellow weekday Marxists. Dig in.

Marat/Sade, whipping scene - Peter Brook and the Royal Shakespeare Company, 1967 (play: Peter Weiss) (by betapicts)