...of all media (right, left and whatever is in-between) scanning the horizon for signs of storm, for wisps of clouds to be tinted with red, expectant of squalls swirling into typhoons. They're kids in the schoolyard gathered around a fight, egging on the bully, hoping for blood. Peace is boring; good weather doesn't bring ratings: if it bleeds, it leads, and in that, we creep towards societies fed on human sacrifice. How many of your friends are Aztecs?
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