Brockton is not known for its motoring history, but it is the city of champions. The city is as about as unromantic as Flint or its neighbor Taunton, another island of industry in a sea of cranberry bogs and pilgrim towns. Mini-ghettos that could stand in for Baltimore or Flint as mirrors or representations of certain aspects of modern urban barrios in post-industrial American cities.
I admit that this argument is flimsy at best and that the conclusion is unmet. This is a blog and these rules of a persuasive essay, grammar, and punctuation need not apply. I could write almost anything without consequences or ridicule, so I will. This has become as meta as Ricky Gervais exploring the nature of humor, why are jokes funny. He is single-handedly destroying comedy faster than Dane Cook could ever dream.
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