The Dewey Arch was a triumphal arch in Madison Square, New York City. It was erected for a parade on September 30, 1899, in honor of Admiral George Dewey, to celebrate his victory at the Battle of Manila Bay in the Philippines the previous year. Constructed around two months before the parade, the arch was made of the plaster-based material staff, typically used in temporary buildings. After the parade, the arch began to deteriorate and it was demolished in 1900 after an attempt to raise money to rebuild it in stone was unsuccessful. The arch's larger sculptures were sent to Charleston, South Carolina, for an exhibit, after which they were either destroyed or lost.Photograph credit: Detroit Publishing Company
... that a statue of the Medicine Buddha(pictured), dating from the late 8th century to the early 9th century, never left its temple grounds until 2024?
... that Russian pianist Pavel Kushnir died on a hunger strike after his arrest for anti-war videos posted on a YouTube channel with five subscribers?
... that public health measures and advances in medical science in modern human history helped raise global life expectancy from about 31 years in 1900 to over 66 years in 2000?
... that English amateur geologist Charlotte Eyton wrote a number of papers and pamphlets on the geology of the Wrekin, a part of Shropshire, between 1862 and 1870?
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It is so terribly sad that I have to explain that the above is a JOKE
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!