Remember Minesweeper?
You step on one of those mines, you blow up. You blow up and your intended message gets lost, never reaching the other side of the divide, never closing the gap, even by a millimeter. It never had a chance.
You step on one of those mines, you blow up. You blow up and your intended message gets lost, never reaching the other side of the divide, never closing the gap, even by a millimeter. It never had a chance.
Empires collapse, fortunes evaporate, and stocks nosedive into hell—but a deep sleep, a clean shit, and a laugh that shakes your skeleton remain the closest thing humanity has to real wealth.