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hawwwk-ptui
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Colonel Sanders and Alice Cooper.

View attachment 27667

"Together, they fight crime!"
Colonel Sanders actually did fight crime. Specifically, a crime directed at his restaurant. One of his rivals in the early days liked to get up early and paint over Sanders' signs, to direct business his own way. Sanders threatened to shoot him if it happened once more. Well, it did happen once more and Sanders, a business partner and the restaurant manager saw it. The three of them started running towards the rival, shouting. He must have taken Sanders at his word about shooting him, because he drew a gun and got his defense in first. He started shooting at the three men. He killed the manager, but the other two returned fire and injured him. He surrendered with the words "No more, Harlan. You've killed me." He survived the shooting, but was executed by the state for the manager's death.
 

TristramEvans

The Right Hand of Doom
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Who taught you how to dance?!?!

Bowie.

It'd be hard to beat that flex


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Tulpa Girl

"Hello, motherf*ckers!"
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134705459_452862526109503_423389259572844490_n.jpg

On an August day in 1982, as the Boston Red Sox were playing the Chicago White Sox, a foul line drive struck four year old Jonathan Keane in the head. Realizing that the time needed for EMTs to make their way through the crowd might not be quick enough, Jim Rice, a left fielder for the Red Sox, quickly made his way from the dugout and into the stands, retrieving the boy and taking him back to the dugout, where the Red Sox medical team began treating him immediately. The quick thinking and actions of Rice are credited with saving the boy's life, who would go on to make a full recovery.

Rice would finish out playing the game, the boy's blood on his uniform. Later, when visiting the boy in the hospital, and finding out that the medical bills would be a burden to the boy's family, Rice instructed the hospital to send the bill to him.
 

Tom B

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I don't remember if this one's been posted:

Pale Blue Dot
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Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it, everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there--on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.

— Carl Sagan[
 
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