Here comes the California Wokerati —headquartered in Berkeley, Santa Cruz, Westwood, and the Castro, backed by Malibu and Menlo-Atherton money—to cancel you for being Literally Hitler.
“Jesus H. Christ on the cross,” he said. He caught my reflected gaze and held it. “How long have you known about this?”
In addition to the charming incongruity of lush grass and lounge chairs amid the trafficky chaos of New York’s streetscape, the event, which is sponsored by the Trust for Public Land, provoked animated discussions about land use.
There was nothing so special about the gang, punks are punks.
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