zifnab25
Please provide the link to this article. I'd like to read the whole thing.
I mean, its a memorial. But its also... there's nobody there. It isn't like the families of the deceased are holding a vigil. It isn't as though they are doing a mass burial or making this a permanent graveyard. This is such a chinsey, vainglorious display of the dead. Its really creepy. Like nobody actually wanted to spend money on this stunt, so they outsourced the job to Kinkos.
Airships, as a principle, tend to be much slower than jet aircraft. And that slowness creates a bunch of negative knock-ons - crosswinds more heavily impact navigation, you can't fly at the same altitude because of passenger air needs, storms carry a higher risk to the vehicle.
At the end of the day, jet aircraft is still the future. The big question is whether companies like Boeing will be able to keep pace with their Chinese peers in pivoting to all-electric engines as the escalating price of jet fuel renders the 20th century aviation industry non-viable.
No, no, no. You see, they were a nation of Chads. They were all six feet tall and had perfect hair and razor wits. Their smiles sparkled like the sun, and they could single-handedly plow a 10 acre field in under an hour. They were as stalwart as they were wise. They could all speak sixteen languages. They were God's Chosen People.
So, anyway, a force of locals overran their government within a matter of months. No one can explain exactly how it happened (:-| 
), but their entire empire vanished from the earth seemingly overnight. Some say they angered the gods with their hubris. Others think it was a (((fifth column))). It is even rumored that Rhodesia was laid low by an early incarnation of TikToks and the first generation of rap music.
All we know for certain is that their immaculate, almost magical people served as the high water market of white western civilization. And if we strive to be everything that they were, perhaps we can recapture that moment in the sun once again.
But don't everyone do it at once, or we'll have inflation again and I'll have to raise your rent.
Jake's pick-up truck was low on gas, as he made his daily pilgrimage down the Tennessee Highway from his small ranch home into the outskirts of Nashville. Since President Brandon took office, he'd struggled to keep his tank full, his lights on, and his mother's cholesterol medication paid for. But he was lucky to live in a state with good coal jobs, and he'd managed to save up enough during the fat years to coast for a bit.
As he approached the city, traffic grew worse. The urban decay of the once-beautiful city grew more apparent every year. Crime in Nashville had been on the rise, after the city's police chief was ousted by a radical new city council. Trash littered the side of the road and panhandlers clogged every crosswalk. The sounds of chanting drifted through Jake's window. Most likely, another BLM protest march. He sighed, patting the Colt .45 in the holster beside his cup holder, and turned down the radio so he could be more tactically aware of his surroundings. Hopefully, his foreman would understand why he was going to be late again.
A sudden motion at the corner of his eye broke his reverie. At first, he wasn't sure what he was looking at. A tiny compact car, one of those cheap foreign imports, had started honking frantically. From this distance, he could see a hand slapping at the windshield. Confusion gave way to horror, as Jake saw the cause of the commotion. Trapped in the dense traffic, the driver was being surrounded by a swarm of creatures pouring out of the woodlands abutting the edge of the highway. He could see them, honking and squealing, tearing into tire rubber and chrome and glass. Thirty to fifty wild hogs had invaded the freeway, and if he didn't act fast the streets of Nashville would be wet with the hot, red American blood.
The latest Hell of Presidents honestly did a great job of describing this same phenomenon, going from Lincoln to Arthur.
You had a guy who was constrained by the demands of the political moment (Free Real Estate) who managed to leverage that demand into genuine revolutionary change. And he was empowered by a groundswell of ideological supporters, zealous converts, and economic interests who simply clocked where the wind was blowing. But then the machinery of politics took over the show, the ideologues were jettisoned in favor of compromises, and the only thing political leadership cared about was the consolidation of additional powers.
Takei is a Native American living under the Garfield administration and staunchly asserting the need for strong abolitionist Republicans, when the party has long since abandoned abolition in favor of professionalizing the administrative state. He's been subjected to a litany of abuses under his own guys, but all he can see is the Bloody Shirt of prior opposition groups. And he's fucking old. All he can care about is the next administration, because at 86 years old he simply isn't going to be around to see what 2028 or 2032 or 2040 has in store.
Evil companies will always exploit the people who blindly buy their products.
Sure. But that doesn't establish the relative price/income ratio of retail.
It's just engagement for them
The horse-race politics angle is pure political engagement. However, the cost of basic necessities relative to the prevailing availability of incomes is a lot more than just engagement. They're describing real material conditions.
McDs only has a $16 meal because of The Other Party. If you vote for The Other Party, you are voting for people to starve to death because they cannot afford McDs. If we only had singular, ideologically uniform, all-powerful One Party Government, none of these problems would be happening.
a coyote literally runs off a cliff and floats in the air for a minute until he realizes that there's no ground under him?
Further evidence that gravity isn't real. You're only proving his point.