Mob rule is clearly established in the United States.
Perhaps a more accurate term is "Whore rule." The Al-Qaida Microsoft whores rule.
Whore-ocracy.
Rule by Whores in the United States is clearly in effect.
http://www.orbital.com/SpaceLaunch/Pegasus/pegasus_history.shtml
Orbital
Pegasus
Pegasus Mission History
Flight # Launch Date Vehicle Payload Result
6 June 27, 1994 Pegasus XL STEP-1 Failure
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0070284/releaseinfo
IMDb
The Internet Movie Database
Release dates for
Lady Ice (1973)
Country Date
USA 13 July 1973 (Miami, Florida) (premiere)
http://community.seattletimes.nwsource.com/archive/?date=20020917&slug=dige17m
Tuesday, September 17, 2002
Local Digest
Gates family adds baby girl
SEATTLE — Microsoft Chairman Bill Gates and his wife, Melinda, are parents for the third time.
Phoebe Adelle Gates was born Saturday at Overlake Hospital Medical Center in Bellevue. The birth was announced yesterday.
http://www.e-reading.org.ua/bookreader.php/80261/King_-_The_Stand.html
Stephen King
The Stand - The Complete & Uncut Edition [ RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 ]
Suddenly she knew he was there.
Even before he spoke, she knew.
“Nadine.” His soft voice, coming out of the growing darkness. Infinitely soft, the final enveloping terror that was like coming home.
“Nadine, Nadine… how I love to love Nadine.”
She turned around and there he was, as she had always known he would be someday, a thing as simple as this. He was sitting on the hood of an old Chevrolet sedan (had it been there a moment ago? she didn’t know for sure, but she didn’t think it had been), his legs crossed, his hands laid lightly on the knees of his faded jeans. Looking at her and smiling gently. But his eyes were not gentle at all. They gave lie to the idea that this man felt anything gentle. In them she saw a black glee that danced endlessly like the legs of a man fresh through the trapdoor in a gibbet platform.
“Hello,” she said. “I’m here.”
“Yes. At last you’re here. As promised.” His smile broadened and he held his hands out to her. She took them, and as she reached him she felt his baking heat. He radiated it, like a well-stoked brick oven. His smooth, lineless hands slipped around hers… and then closed over them tight, like handcuffs.
“Oh, Nadine,” he whispered, and bent to kiss her. She turned her head just a little, looking up at the cold fire of the stars, and his kiss was on the hollow below her jaw rather than on her lips. He wasn’t fooled. She felt the mocking curve of his grin against her flesh.
He revolts me, she thought.
But revulsion was only a scaly crust over something worse—a caked and long-hidden lust, an ageless pimple finally brought to a head and about to spew forth some noisome fluid, some sweetness long since curdled. His hands, slipping over her back, were much hotter than her sunburn. She moved against him, and suddenly the slim saddle between her legs seemed plumper, fuller, more tender, more aware. The seam of her slacks was chafing her in a delicately obscene way that made her want to rub herself, get rid of the itch, cure it once and for all.
“Tell me one thing,” she said.
“Anything.”
“You said, ‘As promised.’ Who promised me to you? Why me? And what do I call you? I don’t even know that. I’ve known about you for most of my life, and I don’t know what to call you.”
“Call me Richard. That’s my real name. Call me that.”
“That’s your real name? Richard?” she asked doubtfully, and he giggled against her neck, making her skin crawl with loathing and desire. “And who promised me?”
“Nadine,” he said, “I have forgotten. Come on.”
He slipped off the hood of the car, still holding her hands, and she almost jerked them away and ran… but what good would that have done? He would only chase after her, catch her, rape her.
“The moon,” he said. “It’s full. And so am I.” He brought her hand down to the smooth and faded crotch of his jeans and there was something terrible there, beating with a life of its own beneath the notched coldness of his zipper.
“No,” she muttered, and tried to pull her hand away, thinking how far this was from that other moonstruck night, how impossibly far. This was at the other end of time’s rainbow.
He held her hand against him. “Come out in the desert and be my wife,” he said.
“No!”
“It’s much too late to say no, dear.”
She went with him. There was a bedroll, and the blackened bones of a campfire under the silver bones of the moon.
He laid her down.
“All right,” he breathed. “All right, then.” His fingers worked his belt buckle, then the button, then the zipper.
She saw what he had for her and began to scream.
The dark man’s grin sprang forth at the sound, huge and glittering and obscene in the night, and the moon stared down blankly at them both, bloated and cheesy.
Nadine pealed forth scream after scream and tried to crawl away and he grabbed her and then she was holding her legs shut with all her strength, and when one of those blank hands inserted itself between them they parted like water and she thought: I will look up… I will look up at the moon… I will feel nothing and it will be over… it will be over… I will feel nothing…
And when the dead coldness of him slipped into her the shriek ripped up and out of her, bolted free, and she struggled, and the struggle was useless.
