Part Two is 24 min. This is our lovely Brad. When the sadness consumes so utterly that there is no space for anything else, and you can barely breathe... remember what is was that infused us with so much joy, the love that radiated... Brad was dazzling in the way he lit this world with his brightness. I will never get used to the idea of not seeing him again. We used to live together, squat together, and I went where he went or he came where I was, when we needed a roof over our heads. We even squatted the NYC Indymedia before the authoritarians took it over, or as Brad called it, "the liberal sectarian coup," after which, we left because they were hostile to anarchists. This time, I cannot go where he has gone, and it feels really weird. I feel lost, as if I don't really belong here either. A Greek friend told me that when they lose someone they love, at the funeral, they will chant "Z! Z!" (or some word pronounced like that) which means, "Live! Live!" as in, "we must live!" We must live as Brad did, in defiance of fascism, grief and all that tears apart the fabric of human dignity. "Live as brave men; and if fortune is adverse, front its blows with brave hearts." - Cicero (106 BC - 43 BC) Brad's work is undone. Seems only the good die young, before their song is sung, before the day is done, before the war is won, before the bell is rung. Though sometimes grief consumes like a dark night with no stars, we must not give in to despair. We must carry on, for Brad, and for the revolution for which he gave his life. Brad, where ever you are, I hope you are warm, that your soul is free and surrounded by love. I hope the dumpsters are overflowing with unsullied organic produce in your heaven. At least you don't have to worry about Capitalism anymore. It is the living who suffer now. The people of Oaxaca are a great example of courage and strength, for they have not given into terror, intimidation, sorrow or the weight of poverty. They hold something more important than fear in their hearts, something more important than despair. They have not given and neither must we. Our hearts are broken, but our guns are smokin... We will unleash hell on those who took our sunshine away.- Priya Less