Thirty years from now, when the dementia sets in, I'm going to be mumbling phrases like "nevertheless she persisted," "all lives matter," "nasty woman," and "covfefe" and neither I nor the listeners (who I will keep referring to as "units") will have any idea what I mean
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Hopefully we can get together at a general council and hammer out a kind of Extremely Online Creed that consists of hashtags I can repeat on my death-bed
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