Violence in subways

       

I remember when all professional men carried attaché cases. I was so impressed. I'd see them and think, "Wow, these guys must be carrying important documents... corporate secrets... the  launch of a new soap campaign!" In the subways they were reading a newspaper. Trump was promoting  decent buildings endangering the stripped bass.

So when I finally got a raise, I bought one, pressed carton. I felt so powerful. I quickly discovered it was the perfect size... for a tuna sandwich. But I used to get pizza at lunch.

   The attaché case is extinct. Now, we're a more casual America. Everyone has a backpack.   Running shoes, a bottle of water, and... a tuna sandwich. We haven't evolved. But the subways have the same size. More professional women and more immigrants.

The  backpacks freed up   hands to hold  cell phones.   A menace on the subway. The attaché case was civilized; it stayed by your leg. A backpack is a weapon. Every time some tall guy turns around to check the Trump’s messages on X, he smacks me in the face with a bag full of his sweaty gym clothes.

Eco, ecola

 “Social media gives the right to speak to legions of imbeciles who previously only spoke at the bar after a glass of wine, without damaging the community. They were immediately silenced, but now they have the same right to speak as a Nobel Prize winner. It’s the invasion of imbeciles.”

Gork about me

 Dan, a self-proclaimed postmodernist with a knack for ironic humor, muses about life's absurdities, from overpriced wine gadgets to the internet's inability to answer "Why me?"

xxxeske's been grilling Elon on governance and war, while questioning political moves and media influence with sharp jabs.

> It is an election about garbage. What about compost? Who will be claiming the compost?