"I went forward in time, to view alternate futures.
To see all the possible outcomes of the coming American conflict."
"How many did you see?"
"How many without blood?"
The tinder of our mutual hatred is bone dry.
Our leadership class is incapable of doing anything except stoking the hatred.
Cassandra has decided she's just going to go to the park, watch the birds, smoke some menthols while she can, order carryout from Troy's Panda Kitchen and catch the next Pitch Meeting.