recursion / nostalgia
It’s an inside joke, but long-time readers deserve it. So here’t goes: one mile high dirt berm, with an (unmentioned, but still plausible) outside chance of balloon fencing!
You know, sometimes I think God is just bored, and he thinks an enjoyable way to pass the time is to reach down and give a few random titty twisters.
Which explanation sure beats the hell out of any light Darwin might shed on history.