Tommy sits out back, the very back of the yard with his head tilted slightly and says, "blue ball, blue ball," while shoving fistfulls of mud through. The blue ball is crushed, however, and the little jingle bell from the inside is lost. I will buy him more cat toy balls next time I go to Target, just like I do every time. It's as regular as dish soap. He loves them.
A careful analyst of the textured nature of historical repetition
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*Thucydides intimates that the careful art of drawing fitting analogies,
honed as it may be through the diligent study of political history, will
assist so...
1 hour ago
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