1楼送给度娘~
新春快乐~
这算第一重送礼吧
各位可以期待，大年初一，我和猫咪童鞋有个大礼要送给大家^^
绝对不会让大家失望的
AR的大段独白啊~
声音萌到翻了~

由拉拉亲提供，在QQ中转站里
要下的亲快
同时我也传到了tudou里，亲们也可以去那里听
下载地址
http://mail.qq.com/cgi-bin/ftnExs_download?k=62633833cdabc6991e096e3415390b495f020c0456090a511450080452140d520c541551510a084b58010f05010d015758560c06331e39345c15575f464d500957024a4a136e501257064b4090836d0e5c43684156585a0e5c1116474b4d39&t=exs_ftn_download&code=9c83399f

土豆的音频
http://www.tudou.com/programs/view/Kk6eCb_GZy8/



送礼完毕~
新年快乐~虎年吉祥

2楼的下载地址是原文
本楼是mp3下载地址
http://mail.qq.com/cgi-bin/ftnExs_download?k=203962617e2bdbc84453346642310719010c04030108040f4e0c5000001c0105070b4f035000571b005b040251500004575a5107643e35620b5c32130150565e064b4c0c140235&t=exs_ftn_download&code=c9bad156


我发了原文，度娘说我灌水，要审我的贴
等原文发了之后，这个帖子才是真正的圆满了

为毛现在QQ说下载的人过多，囧囧囧，亲们手好快！
板凳伺候着，等！

发原文
希望别审
Revolutionary Witness: The Preacher
Transcription from the 1986 television airing
God created rich people first and then showed then the world they would own and when they came to a field with thousands of headless bodies with torsos and hands like iron, God told them the headless bodies were destined to be poor workers.   The rich cried out, "But these heroes with their iron muscles will crush us."   "Don't be frightened," answered God. "I shall place very small heads and brains on their bodies so until they develop them you've nothing to fear."   Who are still the oppressors?   The rich.   Who are still the oppressed? The poor.   Your slavery is their liberty.   Your poverty is their prosperity. Priests say the poor must be content with their poverty and they'll find heaven hereafter. Idiots, cretinous rag-pickers!   My dog Georges has more sense.   Don't you know that whilst you're gazing up at heaven your pockets are being picked clean, your eyes are plucked out and you're robbed of your birthrights, blind to what is done to you?   Christ's priests seized mankind in its cradle and broke the bad news saying, "You shapeless stench. You can never be anything but filth.   Your only chance of winning a pardon for being so filthy is if you bow low in perfect humility in the face of all the afflictions, sorrows and injustices heaped upon you.   You're poor and you stay poor.   That is how it is meant to be.   Life is a bitter ordeal.   Don't speak out.   Just try and save your worthless soul.   You won't be able to but you'll give us less trouble by trying.   And when the time comes for you to die croaking, the darkness will be as hard to bear as the daylight ever was."   The Church knows its business.   It offers fear and punishment, not happiness, certainly not liberty, only servitude forever and forever.   Religion is a liar and a cheat, yet still you hunger for it.   That's why you've sent for me, Jacques Roux, Mad Jacques, Red Roux, preacher of the poor, sower of sedition, subverter of all laws, a priest who saw the light of reason and now proclaims fellowship with all who live in dark dens and desolate places.   Its fitting that I should preach perhaps my last sermon in a ruined church in the parish of St. Nicholas, summer's end.   I go before the tribunal tomorrow, charged with revolutionary excess.   Now I am, it seems, to revolutionary for the revolution.   And so it begins.   When power rested in one man, King Louis, all sorts complained of oppression, and the nobility, middle, and monied men called on the poor to help.   Together we lopped off that top branch of tyranny but the tree still stands and spreads.   New branches hide the sun of freedom from the poor, the revolutionary tribunal is one such.   I don't recognize its authority to judge me.   Only the poor of St. Nicholas can do that.   I come here, to lay the rags and tatters of my life before my peers.   Habits are hard to break citizens.   I come to confess me. Hear my confession.   Do not forgive me Father, for I have not sinned.


It always costs to much!
Late last night, I went walking through the streets of Paris with Georges.   Just the two of us, Georges padding beside me sniffing every post and doorway, and me smoking my pipe. There's nothing better. Making love, perhaps, or making a revolution, but with a revolution, you have to be right.   It was a clear night, and empty streets, and as we passed St. Nicholas' Church, something strange happened.   I was walking, but suddenly I couldn't hear my own footsteps, not one, silence.   I was a dead man walking.   No more of that.
Tomorrow before the tribunal of mumblers I shall make no attempt to defend myself.   That doesn't mean to say I'll stay silent--never that.   I'll do what I was born to do, attack.   If the verdict of that bunch of rotting fish-heads goes against me, I die like friend Marat, through struck down by a better hand, my own!
It's been a rich confession after all friends, deserving of some penance--at least five Hail Mary's and twenty-six Amens.   After all, I've preached revolution and sedition, slaughtered a King and others, lived in sin, and will probably end even deeper in it by killing myself.   In the eyes of the Church it is a hundred percent record of failure.   But on Judgment Day, I expect to stand before my God justified.   I do not condemn myself and shall not be condemned.   And so Amen.   If it's to be the last Amen, I go gladly.   My wife and son will weep, I know.   Georges here will howl a little, won't you boy?   My friends will pause, shake their heads, and move on.   For they have the difficult part.   Living well is so much harder than dying well.   I have tried, to help create a people who are skeptical, rational, critical, not easily fooled or impressed, in a word, a free people, ungovernable.   It's a dream, of course, but I've been lucky to have lived through times that made the dream seem possible, and just for a moment, we stopped being me and mine, you and yours, us and them, and saw ourselves instead as equals in our common humanity.   We are of that generation that so transformed the world that future days and nights can never be the same.   We poor clumsy men and women turned the world upside down, inside out, round and about.  
One last word from my last sermon. The Revolution isn't complete, hardly begun.   Defend it. Don't sit back, act!   Without action, no life.   Without live, no perfection.   Without perfection, no eternal peace and freedom.   For God is an active power and we do His work in fighting the great battles: light against darkness, love against selfishness, revolution against reaction, life against death. C'mon Georges, it's time for our walk.  

MUA~~~
等着年初一的大礼~~
过年就是好~~

手机党～飘飘～

咱下不了………………
RP了我……

从土豆上下的音频在转成MP3格式不会影响音质吧~~~？？
QQ是不能下了~~

该文件下载人数过多，您暂不能下载该文件。请稍候再试。
........哭
帆布鞋的夏天
八过
我觉得稍年轻时候的声音和现在还是 有点不一样

——【听不懂。。。掩面，对不起对不起对不起... ...
——【求翻译

偶也没下到……
急盼啊~~~LT年轻的声音

LZ换个地方传吧
QQ还真是不给面子~