Speaking of Doom and Despair. That's our actual paper. It was sold by the family that founded it to some corporation. It now sucks. The only local news is high school sports and obituaries. Assholes. The owners of the paper, that is, not the high school jocks and jockettes, or the people who died.
Our local rag back in small town WA state was like that. I was in their office placing a real estate ad when I noticed their headline story. A firefighter rescue one. Fire Fighters Repell to Rescue Family. I asked what was so repelling about them that helped … but Whoosh and blank stares.
Dems do need someone who'd be on a twitch gaming stream right now claiming the credit for Syria as a result of sanctions and military aid for the struggle against Russia. Instead Biden will be AWOL as usual and trump will put himself in the middle of the story.
I didn’t know where to put this, so this thread seemed convenient. I thought it was interesting seeing I was alive at the time. Berlin 1939 https://www.facebook.com/share/v/18TBTmFxaR/? Berlin 1945
It's a gasometer, used to store town gas (gas from coal as opposed to natural gas) which was pumped around for things like street lights and into homes for lighting and ovens. The big clock-thing tells how much gas is in there.
Then I better not tell you where I found the answer to the question. I've read about gasometers, but I've never seen a picture of one until usscouse posted that. I really had no hope of identifying it by myself. Much more impressive in real life than what I imagined.
These two photos are of the Garson Gasometer Liverpool. Everything ran on the Coal Gas from these monsters. From our house lighting, street lamps, kitchen stoves etc. before electricity and natural gas. They telescoped up or down depending on the fill. This one was hit and punctured by a German bomb in WWII. It deflated but the bomb didn’t explode.
Coke, “no not that kind” was the biproduct of coal used in industrial heating. Still have enough heat and energy after the gas was extracted.
Original title of the Tintin slave trade story that is known as The Red Sea Sharks in its English version is 'Coke En Stock'. Which refers to the code word the slavers use for the sub-Saharan Muslims they kidnap and subsequently sell into slavery. The regular meaning being what you referred to in your post. Anyway, the point of my digression is that your post just reminded me of the fact that I originally learned what that meaning of 'coke' was through reading the Tintin comic as a kid.
Back in the day, on our household open fire we used both coal and coke, along with wood. A coal man used to deliver it in sacks and pour it into concrete bins we had at the front door. Then you scooped it out with a shovel into a coal bucket which stood next to the fire
Even I remember having a tin trash can for coal. We used it when I was really young to help heat the home. But I think that was all over by the time I was 5. I only remember 2 fires being lit in our fireplaces.
When I was a kid we had..... Yeah, we had , shh, steam heat We had, shh, steam heat We had, shh, steam heat I had to shovel more coal in the boiler!
Yes - we had a special oven in the kitchen where you burned coal or trash (not joking) It had a "wet back" where you heated water My dad would burn the garbage in it. This was still an era where the neighbours had a 50 gallon drum in the backyard where they had outdoor rubbish fires - the stink and soot was horrendous
Over the last page or so, I feel we've drifted away from the feelings of despair, depression, and existential dread that are at the core of this thread. I humbly ask that we get back on track, lest I assign you all to watch Aniara to remind you of what doom is all about.