Breitbart reports that FakeNews CNN’s “Move to Hudson Yards Proves CNN Knows Global Warming’s a Hoax.”
Outside of the basement-rated outlet axing more than a hundred jobs on Monday, the big media news this week is CNN’s move to Hudson Yards, which sits right on the coast, right on the Hudson River.
Oops, sorry, that was an old scientific prediction. Obviously, 2015 has passed without Manhattan flooding.
But Manhattan will be underwater as soon as 2018, which can only mean that–
Oh. Sorry again, that was another prediction our global warming scientific experts got wrong. But soon, very soon Manhattan will be underwater because the scientists CNN takes very, very seriously say so.
Speech: “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more”
BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
(from Henry V, spoken by King Henry)
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour’d rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o’erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O’erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill’d with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call’d fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game’s afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry ‘God for Harry, England, and Saint George!’