Two words for you.

HAIL SATAN.

Oh good fuck, have their brains just completely rotted out of their ears?

And they would have gotten away with it too! If it weren’t for those meddling kids and their mangy dog!

What part of “They’ll die without it” did you miss?

Revolution fails if all the revolutionaries are dead, jackass.

General strike? We’re working on it. Unfortunately, a hundred years of anti-union propaganda is difficult to crack.

I don’t know if you live here or not. I’m trying to stay hopeful that this regime will fall apart sooner rather than later.

Don’t call me a prisoner of my own mind. Don’t insult my intelligence. It isn’t naive or dumb to hope that things can be better, or to go looking for them.

What OP is looking for is assurance that America isn’t an unredeemable bad guy. You know what I see? Someone rapidly realizing that their reality is propagandized nationalistic pride, and trying to claw it back, exactly the way I was ten years ago.

Of course there are good things about a place. But the good things that OP listed were features that have persisted in spite of my country’s dogma, imperialism, and conservatism. Don’t get it twisted.

The only good I’ve seen have been the sporadic and broken bits of a resistance that have managed to not get arrested yet. And I’m not talking about the democrats that are larping as real people for the votes.

Asking as a non-Southerner, what the hell is up with people from the South? I keep hearing all about how great their hospitality is, but they’ve been (nearly without exception) just culturally the most conniving and backstabbing petty Mean Girls. They’ll act sweet to your face, but you don’t even have to leave earshot before they start talking shit and starting small-town rumors. What, is it some kinda local pastime to start shit without saying it to somebody’s face?

Imho, you can’t go wrong with good ol’ Lawnchair.

See, when I was a teenager, my friends and I passed around a journal that we would each write in for about a week. We’d scribble little comments in the margins and write down jokes and comics and riddles that we’d take turns trying to solve in later entries.

And then Facebook happened.