The Full Throttle Saloon in Sturgis burns to the ground. And of course,
truly reflecting the intelligence and depth of U.S. culture, the
comments of grief rival those as if the Hermitage in St. Petersburg has
burned, Stonehenge was destroyed by a meteor and Monk's Mound at Cahokia
was swallowed by an earthquake. It was a tavern. In a small town. On
land from the Treaty of Fort Laramie long since stolen. Named after a
General whose central claim to fame was leading a modern, well
equipped military column on a half continent wide chase of Natives
defending the women and children they had with them. Popular because
culture-less descendants of colonist Americans who can be sold anything,
convinced to play dress up like extra's from the Al Pacino movie
Cruising,revving 1930's technology motorcycles like 15 year olds, go
there to drink crappy beer in overpriced costumes designed to extract as
much of their earnings as possible and give an identity to their empty,
meaningless lives by wearing a giant corporate advertisement and
yelling "freedom".
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