*lends Ubbie the rope*
We are a country being held captive to the whims of those who are drunk on never-before-held power... subject to the determined wishes and personal agendas of a minority.
I feel betrayed.
What price human life, when it comes to the dry crackling beauties of fuel for fire? No, no, don't touch the grass. No, rather we all perish in a mighty inferno than that we cause harm to one little blade of grass by nasty, malicious, cruel, torturous selfish back-burning...