Probably Good Morning Vietnam.

fundamental breakdown of civility is going to be the answer

I mean, have you driven recently? Seems like it’s already started.

Let he who doesn’t bathe with onions, carrots, celery, bay leaves, salt, and pepper cast the first stone.

I remember one critic called it “Dances with Smurfs”

Lutefisk.

I can’t wait for the first story about how someone’s email account got deleted because they said something less than complimentary about man child Musk on Twatter.

Online Manchester United fans. I’ve never seen such a set of ignorant, fickle, judgmental pricks anywhere else.

Is it animal magnetism?

there are no rich people in heaven

No poor people either. Same with Narnia and Middle Earth.

The US has never had a social contract outside of a few things like social security, medicare and medicaid. It’s 335 million people lumped together with a good many of them doing everything they can to fuck everyone else over so they get a slightly bigger slice of the pie, unaware of the fact that if everyone worked together and looked out for one another, things would be much better for everyone.

Needs some updog.

It was shot on 65mm film stock, that’s why it still looks amazing.

I’m not feeling any advantages like what ChatGPT or Copilot have.

Unless you explicitly tell it to use ChatGPT, everything is done on device. That’s an advantage for me.

Nothing happens in the US without someone getting paid. Maybe we need to start a PAC?

I guess I’m still not getting it. What’s the motivation here? What’s in it for clowns like Kennedy when they decide they know more about vaccines than the people who have worked in the field for their entire careers?

Just an idle rich kid looking for a cause to champion?

Joni Mitchell too.

On one hand, it’s really expensive. On the other hand, it’s also shit.

We’re foot—slog—slog—slog—sloggin’ over Africa—Foot—foot—foot—foot—sloggin’ over Africa –

(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up and down again!)

There’s no discharge in the war!

Seven—six—eleven—five—nine-an’-twenty mile to-day—Four—eleven—seventeen—thirty-two the day before –

(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up and down again!)

There’s no discharge in the war!

Don’t—don’t—don’t—don’t—look at what’s in front of you.

(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again);

Men—men—men—men—men go mad with watchin’ em,

An’ there’s no discharge in the war!

Count—count—count—count—the bullets in the bandoliers.

If—your—eyes—drop—they will get atop o’ you!

(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up and down again) –

There’s no discharge in the war!

We—can—stick—out—‘unger, thirst, an’ weariness,

But—not—not—not—not the chronic sight of ‘em—Boot—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again,

An’ there’s no discharge in the war!

‘Taint—so—bad—by—day because o’ company,

But night—brings—long—strings—o’ forty thousand million

Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again.

There’s no discharge in the war!

I—'ave—marched—six—weeks in ‘Ell an’ certify

It—is—not—fire—devils, dark, or anything,

But boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again,

An’ there’s no discharge in the war!

Try—try—try—try—to think o’ something different—Oh—my—God—keep—me from goin’ lunatic!

(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again!)

There’s no discharge in the war!

Jordan?

Calling them the press is giving credit where it isn’t due. They’re stenographers, at best.