Here, in the grimy backstreets of the Bastille, we are at it’s beating heart. The taverns heaved with radicalized ants who spoke of failing harvests and starving families. The poor flooded in from the provinces and it got worse still. Discontent, seething, until here–in this very place–it blowed over. I was with them; uniting to rid France of the parasites that suck the life out of us.

Liberté!

Égalité!

Fraternité!