The B-2 Spirit, better known as the “Stealth Bomber,” is perhaps the single most advanced aircraft in the world. Now the U.S. Air Force is looking towards the future of this amazing plane. According to Popular Mechanics, the Air Force is planning a new Stealth Bomber, one that will have even more astounding capabilities. Several improvements to the B-2’s capabilities have been proposed. One idea is to reduce the number
Recycling needs to be a reflexive habit throughout America. In most of the world, including North America, we do one of two things with garbage: burn it or bury it. Neither one is good for us or for the environment. Across the nation, landfills grow, cities choke on pollution, and water contamination damages the quality of life for people who didn’t formerly suffer this health problem. Just a few years ago in my community
There was a time when human civilization spanned the solar system, and our technological prowess was unmatched. That is all history now. We are a shadow of our former selves. If not for the Traveler, an immense sphere of unknown origin, we would have been destroyed. Its sacrifice saved our race. Now we have made our home in the shadow of this mysterious orb. This, our last city, is all
Political parties exist to secure responsible government and to execute the will of the people. From these great tasks both of the old parties have turned aside. Instead of instruments to promote the general welfare they have become the tools of corrupt interests, which use them impartially to serve their selfish purposes. Behind the ostensible government sits enthroned an invisible government owing no allegiance and acknowledging no responsibility to the
Zoon, zoon, cuddle and croon– Over the crinkling sea, The moon man flings him a silvered net Fashioned of moonbeams three. And some folk say when the net lies long And the midnight hour is ripe; The moon man fishes for some old song That fell from a sailor’s pipe. And some folk say that he fishes the bars Down where the dead ships lie, Looking for lost little baby
My mom, Cornelia Maria Arnold, or Connie Arnold, was a robust woman with salt and pepper hair and sage green eyes. She had tough freckled skin from spending most of her days working in the garden. When you walked toward her, she always had a sparkling smile on her face and would wave at you as if you were long lost friends. She spent most of her evenings relaxing with pets
