I think the collective noun for that amount is “an unchristliness of gold”.

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I’ve always felt that India-Pakistan is the most likely scenario for a nuclear exchange. The prospect of a hot war between them should be terrifying to every one. Not only because of the unimaginable devastation that present day nuclear weapons could inflict on their vast population centers, but also because of how much sweatier the fingers on the red buttons all across the world would become as a result.

The fact that the west is playing both sides is especially horrifying.

I just had a vision of, like, the Trump crash finally bringing the fat chunk of rapist lard over the edge; his ticker giving out on the golf course, to the sight of him keeling over and slumping face first into the manicured grass with the rolls of fat rippling as secret service agents start piling on top of him. A hundred million MAGAs watching in hushed silence with their deep-fried whatever caught half way to their mouths, just waiting to see if maybe the great leader is playing out his master plan; maybe he’s just throwing off the Bidens and fixing the economy so good those commies will never be able to—… And then the late president starts evacuating his bowels into his suit pants and the bodyguards just scatter as 70 years of cheeseburgers and taco bowls come corpsing out of his dissolute sphincter.

Birds are transient, vapid creatures, soaring carelessly above the material reality of the proletariat. The bourgeoisie of the animal kingdom. Birdgeoisie. Except for penguins, who face the ravages of winter in huddled solidarity. And ostriches, who I suspect are Bakuninists.

I would actually love it if a hundred years after my death my enemies would still hate me so much that they’d stay up late to go fuck with my grave. Also I’d probably rig like a NLF spike pit.