Iron Age
Previous versions of tilobite meritocracy has been put forth and fifth by the Republicans and their elk for long enough. So, they all went down to Fountain of Life Apostolic Church for a nice Dunkin' decaf[1] I think it's Tropical Storm Irene that's making us all so miserable. Sleeping is good, during the pain swells. Seeing the devastation and the seven odd billion dollar bar bill for this little bit of blustery float past as I write, I recall my recent work, a tribute to nihilists and their elk as well. I must remember to upload that...
So, this article fills the technical specification of having a listed title, and will eat away at the wall between myself and another hash mark of existence, like coins in a video game, and so, I am pleased. There is a difference between not knowing and not having faith. Like the braggadocio of braggarts, the redundancy of redundancy, the added sum of the multiplicand, the well of sorrow and cheese, Reginald Mordling's left elbow, a snack cracker (possibly with a bit of cheese and bacon on it), the clacks of the klaxon, the paranoid of the knowledge about the faith of the cheese and bacon.
Oh, it was the Iron Age, alright, but no one was prepared for this. Cacaphonic waving mooses descending from the hills at breakneck speed, shoving one another aside to get a better shot at initiating the Iron Age. Ironically, this same moose would bring a close to the Bronze Age. Bronze is prettier than iron, but that's another story altogether.
The resulting mess was called "slag" by the ancients, and "crapola" by the cool kids.