Carpocoris purpureipennis is a species in the shield bug family, Pentatomidae. With a length of 11–13 millimetres (0.43–0.51 in), its body color varies from purple or reddish-brown to yellowish. The pronotum angles are black and the pronotum usually shows short longitudinal black stripes, while the scutellum may have some contrasting black spots. The insect's antennae are black and its legs are orange. Both the adult bugs and their nymphs are polyphagous. Adults mainly feed on juices of Cirsium arvense and nectar of Leucanthemum vulgare. These images show top and bottom views of a C. purpureipennis nymph.Photograph credit: Ivar Leidus
... that Harrogate War Memorial, by Ernest Prestwich, names 1163 casualties of the First and Second World Wars, of whom more than 300 have unknown graves, and the youngest was 15 years old?
... that no voting was held in four out of six curiae in the 1916 Warsaw City Council election, as the Polish and Jewish parties had agreed on a single joint candidate slate?
... that when the Bukharian-Jewish Soviet newspaper Bajroqi Miⱨnat switched to the Latin script, it initially did not use capital letters, following Jewish writing rules?
... that actress Edna May Sperl's fiancé was arrested on the day of her wedding by a federal marshal because her fiancé's father opposed the marriage?
This Wikipedia page is considered semi-tractor-trailer-policy. Semi-tractor-trailer-policy pages are an attempt to jack-knife any real policies and present herculean efforts in codification to questionable purpose. These long-standing unwritten unapproved unthought unrules have widespread support since no actual vote ever becomes real. They should be treated as law, unless they do not support your flame war.
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!