The works of the roots of the vines, of the trees, must be destroyed to keep up the price, and this is the saddest, bitterest thing of all. Carloads of oranges dumped on the ground. The people came for miles to take the fruit, but this could not be. How would they buy oranges at twenty cents a dozen if they could drive out and pick them up? And men with hoses squirt kerosene on the oranges, and they are angry at the crime, angry at the people who have come to take the fruit. A million people hungry, needing the fruit- and kerosene sprayed over the golden mountains. And the smell of rot fills the country. Burn coffee for fuel in the ships. Burn corn to keep warm, it makes a hot fire. Dump potatoes in the rivers and place guards along the banks to keep the hungry people from fishing them out. Slaughter the pigs and bury them, and let the putrescence drip down into the earth.
There is a crime here that goes beyond denunciation. There is a sorrow here that weeping cannot symbolize. There is a failure here that topples all our success. The fertile earth, the straight tree rows, the sturdy trunks, and the ripe fruit. And children dying of pellagra must die because a profit cannot be taken from an orange. And coroners must fill in the certificate- died of malnutrition- because the food must rot, must be forced to rot. The people come with nets to fish for potatoes in the river, and the guards hold them back; they come in rattling cars to get the dumped oranges, but the kerosene is sprayed. And they stand still and watch the potatoes float by, listen to the screaming pigs being killed in a ditch and covered with quick-lime, watch the mountains of oranges slop down to a putrefying ooze; and in the eyes of the people there is the failure; and in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath. In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.
They're just new boat goofin'
M'lord, I inked a fable about the cyberwagon. Surely the commoners will come 'round once they realize the wagon isn't a disgusting heap of junk.
My first thought was Margaret Thatcher, she seemed humorless. The other three could be the streamer xQc so he could play the shock value cards, Don Jr. because he would laugh even when he doesn't get the joke, and Andrew Tate because he'd start asking about people's Bugattis when his card didn't win.
Old lady pin cusion, Mammillaria hahniana I think
Thanks for the explaination, I have a new found appreciation for that emoji lmao
I think its signifies a debate pervert, but i could be wrong. While we're asking questions about emojis, what's the source for the ? I want to subject myself to psychic damage.
What have I done!?
It would be rude to say no.
Reading that and hearing some other people talk anti-union sentiments, the "third-partys get in the way" line is one of the sneakiest ones. That line is designed to make you feel stripped of agency, as if you had more directly negotiating with your boss.
The workers are the union, so they are in the negotiation room, directly negotiating with the boss. You can't fit all the workers in the room, so the workers select a group from their ranks to send to the table.
It burns me up to hear that line because it's so indefensible, yet it's so common.
So nothing will have changed?