
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding-
Riding-riding-
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
Alfred Noyes 1906
Off Cross Point at sundown
Waymo Asks the DC Public to Pressure Their City Officials
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Stuck in regulatory limbo, the self-driving-vehicle developer is
encouraging residents of Washington, DC, to message public officials to
help get its robot...
2 hours ago
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