She cooked the steak sous-vide.

I consider myself to be a “Fannibal.”

I wonna say whassup to all my Niggers, you know, peace and one love.

The Common People became therefore a mystical sympathetic being, essentially a God, whose altar was the hustings and whose oracle the ballot box. A little slow and lumpish was this God of the Age of European Predominance, but, though his mills ground slowly, men were assured that they ground with ultimate exactitude.