Imagine this American contrast: you are driving along a commercial boulevard. A stop light turns red. You stop. You look right and observe an encampment: tents, cars, trucks, RVs and hovels made of plywood and pallets. Every domicile is duct taped or tarped in some manner. The duct tape and tarps resemble all the colors of the rainbow. You observe trash strewn everywhere in and around the encampment. You see trash piled badly here and there and wonder if trash were piled neatly it would make a difference. You decide, yes, it would.
American Contrast
American Contrast
American Contrast
Imagine this American contrast: you are driving along a commercial boulevard. A stop light turns red. You stop. You look right and observe an encampment: tents, cars, trucks, RVs and hovels made of plywood and pallets. Every domicile is duct taped or tarped in some manner. The duct tape and tarps resemble all the colors of the rainbow. You observe trash strewn everywhere in and around the encampment. You see trash piled badly here and there and wonder if trash were piled neatly it would make a difference. You decide, yes, it would.