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lizzie magie filed her patent in 1904. she called it the landlord’s game . it wasn’t meant to be fun, exactly. it was meant to show something. land ownership concentrates wealth. rent rewards people who produce nothing. once monopolies form, outcomes stop being accidental. the instructions said all of this plainly. people ignored the lesson and kept the game. over the next few decades, the board drifted hand to hand. homemade versions. penciled-in street names. no official ma

atlantic city has never been a city that exists quietly. it has always been a place people pass through, linger in, leave, return to, and talk about later. a city built for visitors, but kept alive by the people who stay. a place where attention concentrates instead of disperses. that matters.... most advertising today disappears the moment it appears. it scrolls by. it refreshes. it competes with a thousand other things asking for the same second of attention. atlantic city

i SO was disappointed to read the philadelphia inquirer piece on atlantic city. not because the reporting was factually wrong, but because it leaned so heavily into a familiar crisis framing that this city has worn for decades. the headline tells you what to think before you’re allowed to look around. trial. fire. fear. repeat. the article stacks the mayor’s trial, new york casinos, and the peanut world fire into a single narrative and calls it a diagnosis. uncertainty is tre

the escape plans art kids love tees that look like they were handed to them behind a venue. this is that vibe. screen-printed by two people who truly, teuly love atlantic city, your drip can't get any cooler than this. https://www.theescapeplans.com/category/all-products bonus points if a CUSTOM itinerary is part of the gift, for your friend who needs a reason to go out. alibi gin bring this to a holiday party and suddenly u r the fun cousin. https://alibigin.com/ perfect do

nov 27 – dec 1 your guide to a guaranteed good time this holiday weekend. if u roll into thanksgiving hungover, that’s on you, not me. thanksgiving week in atlantic city hits different. the air gets sharp. the lights hit the boardwalk at a strange angle. the locals creep out of hiding and start doing their annual “i love my family but i’m going out anyway” routine. if youre in town, here’s where you should be before the turkey coma hits. wednesday: thanksgiving eve - november

atlantic city has spent a century being misunderstood. the postcards and punchlines tell one story, but the streets tell another. walk the 48 blocks slowly and you start to see the real version. not the myth. not the warning. the living thing beneath it all. long before hotels or the rolling chairs, long before the first boardwalk plank, the Lenape came to this barrier island for the summer season. they followed the tides, the fishing grounds, and the natural clock of the lan

yes, it was real. it wasn’t a metaphor or a marketing gimmick. from the 1920s through the 1970s, atlantic city had a horse that climbed a platform and jumped fifty feet into a tank of water while tourists cheered from the steel pier. sometimes a woman rode it. sometimes she didn’t. people called it entertainment. people also called it insane. like most things in this town, truth depends on who you ask. some say the horses loved it. some say it was cruel .some say it was a job