What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,

And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water.

You’re coming back…

Wells Fargo CEO Says The Quiet Part Out Loud

This is a test of what kind of nation America is going to be

Are we going to allow our government to assault and arrest our representatives?

Are we going to allow the state executive to crush anything in its path?

Are we going to let online drama, merch, & stan culture become our politics?