One song a month that moves me in a deep way and what goes on in my head when I hear it.
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“Sleep Now in the Fire” – Rage Against the Machine, The Battle of Los Angeles
Listen to the song.
(To see lyrics while listening, click the "CC" button at bottom of video)
Verse 1
The world is my expense
The cost of my desire
Jesus blessed me with its future
And I protect it with fire
So raise your fists
And march around
Don’t dare take what you need
I’ll jail and bury those committed
And smother the rest in greed
Crawl with me into tomorrow
Or I’ll drag you to your grave
I’m deep inside your children
They’ll betray you in my name
Sleep now in the fire
Verse 2
The lie is my expense
The scope of my desire
The Party blessed me with its future
And I protect it with fire
I am the Nina the Pinta the Santa Maria
The noose and the rapist
And the fields overseer
The agents of orange
The priests of Hiroshima
The cost of my desire
Sleep now in the fire
Verse 3
For it’s the end of history
It’s caged and frozen still
There is no other pill to take
So swallow the one
That made you ill
The Nina the Pinta the Santa Maria
The noose and the rapist
The fields overseer
The agents of orange
The priests of Hiroshima
The cost of my desire
Sleep now in the fire
-Lyrics by Zack de la Rocha
War was in the Middle East. Moscow was trying to hold onto lands that were slipping away. Home video was released of police officers beating a black man; riots and protests ensued. Fires burned in the hills of California. The economy was in recession. Audio recordings of a former presidential coverup were released. It may sound like 2022 but in reality, the year was 1991.[1]
Beyond, and perhaps more importantly than the events happening on the world stage, this was the year I finally earned my driver’s license. It also happened to be the year that the metal-punk band Rage Against the Machine was formed. 1991 was a big deal.
Rage Against the Machine was a product of Generation X, the “we don’t trust anybody”, “we can do it ourselves” generation. By the mid-nineties their popularity had grown but I never really listened to them much. Most likely because I wasn’t allowed to buy music with swear words in it. If you don’t already know, many of Rage's songs don’t hold back in the naughty words department. Regardless of that fact, I would catch a few of their radio safe/edited tunes on the local FM station or see glimpses of them when I snuck some MTV when my parents weren’t home.
Rage Against the Machine’s mission from the beginning was to shine a light on political issues and to promote activism. Their songs range from the rights of migrant workers to the oppression of minorities - from the evils of imperialism to the sins of governmental oppression. It’s been amazing to see in recent years that some people who liked Rage in the 90’s and early 2000s didn’t know they were a political band[2] Every one of their songs has a message about something broken in our world.
It wasn’t until the fall of 2020, and all that transpired with the Biden/Trump election, that I re-discovered Rage. In fact, they came to me via a news article about Trump supporters dancing to the Rage song, “Killing in the Name Of”.[3] These credulous “stop the steal” protesters were either completely tapped out of their mind, or had found a way to double back the meaning of this song to support their own cause. (“Killing in the Name Of” is a song about police brutality and racism and these protesters were trying to use it as an anthem for fraudulent election stealing claims). Regardless, this news clip invited me to go to the old Spotify jukebox and pull up the Rage Against the Machine discography.
Strangely, as I age, I haven’t lost my love for hard rock. In fact, in some cases, I’m enjoying some bands that are harder than I’ve ever listened to before. This seems to be the right time in my life for a Rage renaissance.
Going through their collection, my ears and heart drifted to their album The Battle for Los Angeles. There were a few reasons for this. First, I really like the album cover and remember it vividly from my youth. Second, the album is stacked with songs that drive home their point with deadly accuracy. Finally, it’s the album with the least amount of profanity, so I could crank it in the house around the kids (yeah I guess my parents were partially right about not having music around with profanity in it).
Working my way through this album I had a long pause at track number five, “Sleep Now in the Fire”. This song starts with a blistering guitar riff by Tom Morello (who graduated with honors from Harvard with a social studies degree). Follow that up with drums (Brad Wilk) and bass (Tim Commerford), then let Zac de la Rocha’s scream lead you into the church of truth. His scream is reminiscent of Roger Daltrey’s heart wrenching wail in The Who’s classic anthem, “Won’t Get Fooled Again” (another great political song that I hope to include in a future SFAS).
“Sleep Now in the Fire” is a song that gets straight to the point. Structurally it’s fairly standard. You have three verses with the chorus line in-between each one. In verse one we get the personification of the white Christian church. Verse two gives us a look into the dirty world of politics, and by the time we get to verse three, a dystopian view of history and its fallout are all around us.
Verse I – The White Christian Church
The world is my expense
The cost of my desire
Jesus blessed me with its future
And I protect it with fire
So raise your fists
And march around
Don’t dare take what you need
I’ll jail and bury those committed
And smother the rest in greed
Crawl with me into tomorrow
Or I’ll drag you to your grave
I’m deep inside your children
They’ll betray you in my name
Everybody Wants to Rule the World
It’s obvious through other songs in the Rage catalog that they have very little positive to say about the white Christian church (other songs on this album refer to sexual abuse by clergy and other atrocities). The thing that gets me about these opening lines is how they cut right to the heart of a deep Christian understanding. That of dominion theology.
In my Protestant upbringing, this word dominion was a popular one. We were taught that God had created humans to have dominion over the whole earth; animals, lands, seas, skies…everything. We were the superior beings and everything here was for our exclusive use. Sure, we weren’t supposed to abuse the earth, but you definitely could use it all you wanted to. Remember, Jesus would return someday to restore the whole thing. “This world ain’t my home, I’m just a passin’ through.”
The problem with this “passing through” theology is that the Christian church has lost its understanding of what it means to protect and cherish the beautiful garden it was first blessed with. It’s like we got kicked out of the garden and never stopped running. Rape the land; no problem, Jesus will restore it. Kill off all the bison; God gave them to us for food. Enslave people and take their land; well maybe some people are closer to animals than others and need to be dominated over. And, by the way, we have this little thing called hell that is waiting for those who don’t agree.
After all, “The world is my expense. The cost of my desire. Jesus blessed me with its future. And I protect it with fire.”
From the 16th century Age of Discovery to the Manifest Destiny of the 1800s – from the Christian crusades against the Islamic barbarians to the European and American slave trade – from the hunting of whales to the clear cutting of forests – from the “re-education” of Native Americans to the oppression of women – from Jim Crow to gay hate – from slave labor goods made in Bangladesh to tax loopholes, the church has found all sorts of ways to justify its dominion over everything around it.
With God on your side, you can “raise your fists and march around, don’t dare take what you need…jail and bury those committed and smother the rest in greed.”
Dominion-centric theology has brought us to the pivotal point in history. Select people continue to grow more powerful, benefiting from bad theology and the practices that came from it, while those on the margins suffer. Many times, the white Christian church has pimped its way through history leaving orphaned and troubled children in its wake.
Even today, branches of that church’s “evangelicals” (a term that the media does not understand and uses incorrectly) do not understand their own history and story of dominion. Instead, they have morphed it into a type of nationalistic identity which marches forward with a self-centric morbidity. Instead of the Christ who mourns with those who mourn we now see Jesus the gun slinging Bible thumper.
Are we investing in a future of hope, community and justice or are we listening to those who call out zombie-like, “crawl with me into tomorrow, or I’ll drag you to your grave!”
Stop Frontin’, You’re Just a Puppet
There’s one final twist in the first verse of this song. De la Rocha takes it home, literally. The challenge goes out to the Christian parents, who may or may not be listening. To my ears, it sounds like he is saying there is someone (or something) shady running the church. In fact, it’s “deep inside your children. They’ll betray you in my name.” Seemingly pulled from Matthew 10:21[4] this line feels like a backhand to the pious.
Could it be that the “Christian” culture is not an image of redemption but one of extortion? Has some evil been whispering over the centuries corrupting from within? Could it be that those that think they’re so righteous have been fooling themselves the entire time? When push comes to shove will their children rather betray their parents’ faith than walk forward into it? Will the youth rise up when they realize the duplicity of some of their parents theology?
Verse 2 – Government
The lie is my expense
The scope of my desire
The Party blessed me with its future
And I protect it with fire
I am the Nina, the Pinta, the Santa Maria
The noose and the rapist
And the fields overseer
The agents of orange
The priests of Hiroshima
The cost of my desire
Tell Me Lies, Tell Me Sweet Little Lies
Rage isn’t mucking about here.
Let’s start with politics. The rules of the political game are simple because most of the time, as a politician, you’re making the rules (or the hidden rules behind the rules).
For some in politics the power that comes with the position can begin to corrupt (that’s why I believe in term limits for anyone in any public office). It’s sad to see good women and men turn a corner into deception, even in small matters. I can’t imagine what it is like to be in the jaws of political life. To be chewed on constantly by the machinery of government and come out the other end clean.
It reminds me of a line in the movie Hunt for the Red October. A senator turns to the hero and says, “Listen, I'm a politician, which means I'm a cheat and a liar, and when I'm not kissing babies, I'm stealing their lollipops.” This caricature of a politician is one that has seeped into our public consciousness, not because we made it up out of whole cloth, but because there is some truth in there somewhere.
What does it cost to be one of these broken politicians? Rage answers, “The lie is my expense.” And what do these lies encompass? It seems that many times those in political power lie in order expand their power, privilege, or position. “The scope of my desire” is to come out on top, no matter what needs to be done to get there. Those with money and influence are the ones that win in this sphere, which means those who are poor and weak loose. The cycle continues year after year with the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer. Power begets power while poverty begets pain.
Political parties have become blood-sport fight clubs whose futures must be protected at all costs. Us verse them. Good verses bad. Right verses evil. Tainted eyes begin to see their side as the savior (“the Party blessed me with its future”) and those on the other side as willingly destroying all that is right…and panic ensues.
One thing we’ve learned from modern psychology is that when you are in panic you will do everything you can, even ignoring the pain you are inflicting on yourself, to escape.[5] As Abe Lincoln said, “A house divide against itself cannot stand.” What happens when those in the divided house not only loath the other side but want to burn them right out of existence (“and I protect it with fire”)?
Turning to the second part of verse two; if these words don’t haunt your soul and make you squirm in your seat then please, check your pulse. Herein lies just a partial list of atrocities committed by Christian nations. Sins are laid bare and we are reminded both of what we have done, and how those horrific things have deposited us on the shores of prosperity that some of us enjoy today.
From the very beginning of European Christian exploration to this hemisphere, we have conquered and displaced in the name of Jesus. We must remember that for much of the church’s history its influence and power has been intertwined with state powers. For centuries there was no separation between church and state – they were the same thing. God ordained the state to do what it did and the kings and queens were his divine appointees.
For example, take this little excerpt from the writings of Christopher Columbus.
“May it please the Lord to forgive those who have calumniated and still calumniate this excellent enterprise, and oppose, and have opposed its advancement, without considering how much glory and greatness will accrue from it to your Highnesses throughout all the world. They cannot state anything in disparagement of it, except its expense, and that I have not immediately sent back the ships loaded with gold. They speak this without considering the shortness of the time, and how many difficulties there are to contend with; and that every year there are individuals who singly earn by their deserts out of your Majesties' own household more revenue than could cover the whole of this expense. Nor do they remember that the princes of Spain have never gained possession of any land out of their own country, until now that your Highnesses have become the masters of another world, where our holy faith may become so much increased…”
– Christopher Columbus “Letter to Ferdinand and Isabella 1498[6]
Chris was on a mission with a divine mandate to take new lands for Ferddie and Issie. Those lands were to be obtained for God and country. If you read the “Articles of Agreement” between Chris and the Spanish government you’d see that “the lands which our Lord shall permit him [Columbus] to discover and acquire for the service of Your Highnesses”[7] were claimed as Spanish property.
Also, “any merchandise, whether pearls, precious stones, gold, silver, spices, and other objects and merchandise whatsoever, of whatever kind, name and sort, which may be bought, bartered, discovered, acquired and obtained…Your Highnesses grant from now henceforth to the said Don Cristobal [Columbus], and will that he may have and take for himself, the tenth part of the whole.”[8]
So, if you found land and gold along the way and, heck…why not…maybe even a savage or two, well, that’s what God ordained you to have.
“They should be good servants and intelligent, for I observed that they quickly took in what was said to them, and I believe that they would easily be made Christians, as it appeared to me that they had no religion.”
-The Journal of Christopher Columbus, Thursday, 11 October 1492[9]
Chris and his crew were products of their time. We have to acknowledge that fact. Yet we also have to acknowledge that we can look back at their actions and realize that what they did pretty much sucked. White Christians of their time (and still some in ours) have the misguided understanding that God has ordained them to take what they want.
This birthright of dominance, a forged document, must be seen as the predecessor to all that whites enjoy today in the realms of power and privilege. Doubt it? The federal government’s own findings show that whites dominate the financial landscape. Here is the Federal Reserve's Survey of Consumer Finances for 2019.[10]
When you see statistics like this it becomes pretty obvious who has power and who is holding on to it. Are we still “the Nina, the Pinta, the Santa Maria”?
Returning to the lyrics in Rage’s second verse we are brought to one of the greatest atrocity this country ever perpetuated; the selling, buying and physical ownership of human beings.
Slavery is an ancient practice that has helped to build empires, including our own, but that doesn’t justify it. Systemic racism has tentacles that reach from its deep past to our present unrests.
Remember learning about the slave trade in school as a child? Of course, we all thought it was wrong and immoral, but how often did we stop to think about our continued part in it. When we go on to learn about lynchings in the south after the Civil War, do we see our part? During the Great Migration of blacks to northern cities to escape brutality and find work, are we involved? Jim Crow laws, the civil rights movement, job discrimination, mass incarceration, drug laws, red lining of neighborhoods …are none of these connected to whites at all? It seems as though the road to equality is a long and winding one. The Emancipation Proclamation was signed 160 years ago – maybe something keeps getting in the way of making it a reality.
We all remember the Black Lives Matter protests during the summer of 2020. Everyone has an opinion about these protests, but if we can take anything away from them it is this; we still have racial tension between whites and blacks over a hundred and fifty years after the end of the civil war.
Reading the book White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo really opened my eyes to how we as whites see the racial tension around us, how brittle our egos are and how much we truly live in fear. Systemic racism has enabled whites to hold onto a power born in hate. It pains me to say it but, are we still “the noose and the rapist and the fields overseer”?
It Takes a Second to Say Goodbye
It wasn’t until my wife and I sat down in late 2022 and watched a documentary about Generation X did I realize how much the Vietnam War shaped my upbringing.
It was the stories I watched on TV and the plot lines in movies. Shows like “The A-Team” (all Vietnam vets), “Tour of Duty” and “China Beach” were on nightly. One of my favorite movies from the time period was “Good Morning Vietnam” with Robin Williams. The screenplays about Vietnam or people affected by serving there are endless in the 80’s and 90’s.
It wasn’t just on the TV, it was in our homes and families too. My dad didn’t serve in the war, he got out right before it began, but I had friends whose dads had served. I remember one in particular. When you were at his house you stayed away from his dad. He wasn’t nasty or violent, in fact I remember him as kind of a quiet and sad figure. Later in life I learned about his PTSD from serving in the Marines in Vietnam.
Like slavery, war seems to be something we can’t shake, and Vietnam was especially brutal. I still can’t believe that in a modern world the United States would spray a chemical herbicide (“the agents of orange”) on a country, knowing that it would not just kill foliage (to remove the cover the Viet Cong were using to hide under), but that it was also known to cause cancer, birth defects, and the death of persons and animals.
The way Rage uses the term “agents of orange” is powerful. They aren’t just reminding us that we used this dangerous chemical in war but that we continue to use deadly things to get the results we want. “Agents of orange” can be our racism, our use of chemicals to grow our food, the displacement of peoples from their homelands, the polluting of the environment, the use of sweat shop labor. We spray our desire over the surface of the world. Killing what we want so that we may live a comfortable and safe life.
Afterall, we’re still the only country to have dropped not one, but two nuclear weapons on another people’s land. Up to 226,000 people were killed as two bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan. That’s the population of Fort Wayne, Indiana gone – in a flash. This continues to amaze and disgust me.
With the dropping of those bombs the church doors to the Atomic Age were opened. Worshipers in this church believe in the justification of the bomb. The bomb is awe-inspiring and deadly but will save them from the evil and punish their enemies in the end. The truth is, it’s a death cult, but no one will admit it. Those in power convince the faithful that it is the only way. Not just violence, but total inhalation, wins the day. Come worship the bomb call out “the priests of Hiroshima”
Is “the cost of my desire” the death of everything that opposes our way of life, our happiness, our safety, our control of the outcome. The golden rule is a nice thought, but in a practical world we need practical solutions to problems. Who cares who gets hurt in the process, as long as it isn’t us.
Verse 3 - Dystopia
For it’s the end of history
It’s caged and frozen still
There is no other pill to take
So swallow the one
That made you ill
You'll get up and do it again, Amen
There is a verse in the book of Proverbs that reads, “As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool repeats their folly.” I have a dog. I’ve seen it eat its own vomit (and worse). Gross might not be a strong enough word to describe it. How can you re-eat the thing that made you sick? The thing your own body rejected?
I’m reminded of the famous saying of the Spanish philosopher George Santayana, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” Rage Against the Machine echoes this sentiment in their final verse. If we keep doing the same stupid things over and over again, we are no longer creating anything new. “For it’s the end of history, it’s caged and frozen still.”
It’s sad that many people don’t like to learn history. Maybe if it was taught more in the style of Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure and less in the manner of Ben Stein (Bueller?….Bueller?) people would learn more. Is it really about memorizing dates, names and places? Shouldn’t it be more of a study of the effects of thoughts and actions and how those thoughts and actions led to other thoughts and actions. It’s more akin to anthropology. What makes us human? What makes us do and think and act the way we do?
This reflective study of history can break cycles that have been going on for ages. When we take time to think about what we have done rather than simply just “doing” all the time, we begin to see patterns of behavior that can be adjusted. Richard Rohr, a thought-provoking Franciscan priest and founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation, was once asked about the name of this institution he founded. He was asked, “Which is the most important word in the title of the center?” His thoughtful reply was, “and”.
Every Junkie’s Like a Settin’ Sun
We’re closing in on the end of the song and there is still a bit of medicine to take.
Anyone addicted to something will tell you that there is a difference between wanting to continue to take a substance and liking to take it.[11] It is as if they have no choice but to continue to bow to the will of the substance, even if they consciously don’t want to. The dopamine rush, the safety in the bubble that the substance temporarily creates, the social and ethical morays, – all of this and so many other nuances make up the complex world of addiction. We seem, at some level, to almost be wired for cravings and dependency.
Addiction doesn’t just come in the form of things we ingest into our bodies. It can also come in the form of social constructs. We form clubs and groups with people of similar interests. We join a political party because of the solidarity we find in certain issues. We exclude certain groups from our communities to keep them “safe” and “family friendly”.
Our brains tell us that these actions and choices make us safe. We like feeling safe, even if somewhere in the depths of our consciousness we know the safety might come at a price. The price might be the demonization of other groups or the generalization of ethnicities. Fear mongering and nationalism can quickly be morphed into language of communal protection and solidarity. There is a high that you get from believing that your group is the one fighting for truth, and what that group has done in the past was always right. These convictions lead to a vicious and addictive feedback loop. Soon history repeats itself and myopically we think that “there is no other pill to take”. We can’t see that we have “swallow[ed] the one that made you ill.”
The “you” made ill is not just your group but society as a whole. When someone is addicted to a lie, everyone suffers. The dystopian future comes to fruition. No big brother is needed to create it. We do it to ourselves each time we turn up the volume of our particular groups feedback loop. Louder and louder the voices raise until the sound is deafening and we forget there is anyone else in the room.
Refrain – Immolation
Sleep now in the Fire
Don’t Go Mistaking Your House Burning Down For the Dawn
The cover of Rage Against the Machine’s first album is a disturbing one. It features part of a picture taken by Malcolm Brown (who was a photographer for the AP in Vietnam) of Buddhist monk Thích Quảng Đức self-immolation (setting oneself on fire).[12] This monk was protesting the president of Vietnam’s oppression of the Buddhist religion. This horrific image has sparked debate time and time again but the one thing that can not be debated is that Thích Quảng Đức had strong convictions. Strong enough to dump gas on himself and light a match.
The first recorded self-immolation was an act of political protest around 396 CE in China. This horrific practice has continued right up to the recent self-immolation of Wynn Bruce in 2022. Wynn set himself on fire in the plaza of the Supreme Court Building in Washington DC to protest against government inaction to the climate crisis.[13]
When Rage used the photo of Thích Quảng Đức on their first album they were making a very different point about fire than what they sing about in “Sleep Now in the Fire.” This fire is not one of protest to spark change. This fire, although self-lit, is one that kills others while protecting the arsonist.
Those in historical seats of power and privilege ask the world to turn a blind eye to pain and suffering, (the burning of the world around them) and to simply embrace the fiction that the fire is not there. They sing a lullaby of commerce, self-satisfaction and innocence.
We, the sleepers, not only listen to the song, but learn it ourselves and teach it to our children.
The flames of hate, greed, racism, consumerism and lust lick at the floors and walls of our home, slowly climbing the curtains, while we say our prayers and turn off the lights. We try to drift off but begin to dream. We see people we’ve never met and places we’ve only heard about in stories. Slowly, questions with anemic answers echo in our mind.
Why should I care if people in Nigeria are taken advantage of and their land destroyed for the oil in it? I need gas for my car so I can provide for my own family.[14]
Why should I care that a child in the Democratic Republic of Congo won’t ever go to school, but instead works in a cobalt mine so I can have a cell phone? After all, I’ve got to make sure my kids can call me when soccer practice is over.[15]
Why should I care if young women are sold into slavery and forced to perform sex acts on camera for porn sites? I’m a man and I have needs.[16]
We lie there, squeezing our eyes shut tight, ignoring the burning smell in the air. We let these questions drift away, pushing them out of our minds and replace them thoughts of pleasures yet to come. Some, who can’t seem to dodge these nagging thoughts, reach for the bottle or sleeping aid of choice. Once again “swallowing the pill that makes us ill.”
Others of us toss and turn. Our legs become tangled in the sheets and the questions will not dissipate into the dark. In fact, we think we smell something burning. Opening our eyes we see a soft red-orange flickering in the room. We reach for the remote, maybe the TV and its endless parade of advertisements will help us fall back to sleep. No, the smell of burning material can’t be ignored.
We reach for the light and turn it on. Shadows run from the room and into the corners. We glance down, and there at the foot of the bed, lays a young woman from Bangladesh feverishly trying to mend the bedspread. We turn suddenly to the door and see a young Pakistani boy hanging our clothes on the hook there. The small table in the corner is gone and instead a man from China supports the TV on his back like a tumor.
Out of desperation and fear we reach for the Book of Comfort on the bedside stand but pull our hand back. Its edges begin to brown and cringle with the heat that is building in the room. On the open page one sentence catches our eye. We’re just barely able to read it before the flame gobbles it up. Something about the least of these, how they were treated and who they represent.[17]
Jumping from the bed we realize that the fire has been set intentionally and the arsonists are nearby. As we sprint from the house, we see dark shadows moving in and out of the flickering flames. We stop, awestruck at our own naiveté and foolishness. Why did we ignore the signs for so long. The house is almost consumed. Our legs tremble - our hands sweat. Through the crackle of the consummation we hear the shadows chanting soft and low, “Sleep. Sleep. Sleep now in the fire.”
Something cold touches our arm and we jump to the side. Turning, we realize that there are other sleepers who have awoken and are standing there with us. Their faces are streaked with soot and grime. It’s obvious that they’ve been fighting this fire for a long time. Burnt fingers, singed hair and stained bedclothes are badges of truth and their reward is reflected in the determination in their eyes.
The coldness that touched our arm is the handle of a water bucket. It is being offered to us. With trepidation, but growing understanding, we take the bucket, feeling the weight pull at our shoulders.
“But the work is so hard,” we tiredly tell ourselves.
Quietly, from the crowd of burnt heroes, a soft voice whispers beside us, “That is the cost of my desire.”
~ ~ ~
“We prefer a meaningless collective guilt to a meaningful individual responsibility.”
- Thomas Szasz, The Second Sin, 1973
I would love to hear your thoughts.
Endnotes:
[1] The US was at war with Iraq after it invaded Kuwait. The USSR broke up this year. The beating of Rodney King was captured on video. California is always burning. There was an 8-month long recession that ended in March of 1991. The final Nixon tapes were released in June.
[4] https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew%2010%3A21&version=NIV
[5] Deliberate self-harm in a nonclinical population: prevalence and psychological correlates – American Journal of Psychiatry, 2003 Aug. pg. 160
^back^
[6] The Writings of Christopher Columbus - Charles L. Webster & Co., 1892, pg. 147-148.
[7] The Voyages of Columbus and of John Cabot, edited by Edward Gaylord Bourne - Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York, 1906, pg. 78.
[8] Ibid pg. 79.
[9] The Voyages of Columbus and of John Cabot, edited by Edward Gaylord Bourne - Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York, 1906, pg. 111.
[11] "Liking, Wanting and the Incentive-Sensitization Theory of Addiction”, Kent C. Berridge and Terry E. Robinson, Am Psychol. 2016 Nov; 71(8): 670–679.
[12] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Th%C3%ADch_Qu%E1%BA%A3ng_%C4%90%E1%BB%A9c
[16] https://www.endslaverynow.org/blog/articles/the-relationship-between-porn-and-human-trafficking
[17] Matthew 25:40