Uniform Injustice
The place where I come from is a bit unusual. It’s a place in the Pacific Northwest where you can still go out and stake your claim. Literally, thanks to the General Mining Act of 1872. Yes, 1872. As in 141 years ago. Yes, just seven years after the Civil War. Outdated much?
Some miners will stay up in the hills year-round, utterly alone, and living in shacks with no electricity. Every few months they drive their pickup trucks into town and load up on supplies. Then it’s right back into them thar hills.
As you might imagine, that kind of lifestyle combined the total lack of human socialization can make them a bit eccentric. I hope to experience something similar on my one-way mission to Mars. (I’ll use the 1872 law to stake a claim in the cargo bay and shoot anyone who trespasses under interstellar law.)
Meanwhile, I have a person in my life who acts a lot like this. Allow me to introduce Emily, our former landlady. She’s elderly and lives alone in the hills outside of town with her cats. And, like her distant miner counterparts, she’s a bit eccentric.
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Where Farce Won?
Am I the only person in America who noticed something odd about the first presidential debate?
Fasten your seat-belts, ensure your trays and seats are fully upright, and, of course, assume the position. Please turn off all electronic devices including the one you are using to read these very words. This post is about to take-off.
JET!
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Bonus Round: Launch the Mutant Now!!
Main screen turn on: Bonus round is now. All your votes belong to us. Make your time. Somebody set up us the bomb.
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