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Oil didn't ooze into history-it bubbled from Mesopotamian seeps where Sumerians smeared it on wheels and wounds, a sticky sacrament for waterproofing ziggurats and smearing enemies' eyes. Fast to Pennsylvania's 1859 Drake well, a rickety rig that spat the first commercial gusher, flooding lamps and fortunes while Standard Oil's tentacles squeezed independents dry, Rockefeller's ledgers ledger-ing a monopoly that busted trusts and built titans. It was the dawn of black gold, where derricks dotted prairies like iron weeds, fueling Edison's bulbs and Ford's flivvers till the world ran on the stuff, from Baku's Bolshevik bonfires to Saudi sands hiding the sheiks' swing.Twentieth-century tempests turned crude to conflict: Tehran's '52 coup for BP's pipes, OPEC's '73 embargo stranding Detroit iron at pumps while Nixon rationed speed limits. Gulf squalls swallowed ships and soldiers-'91's sandstorms cloaking tank treads, '03's Baghdad bazaars bombed for barrels that barely budged prices. Spills scarred the script: Valdez's '89 slick slathering Alaska's shores in chocolate mousse, Deepwater's geyser gushing 4 million barrels till the Gulf choked on its own vomit. These weren't footnotes-they were the fuel that fired engines and feuds, a liquid legacy where every mile marker hid a massacre.Now the pump sputters: frackers fracturing Appalachia for shale sweets that flood markets and fracture aquifers, while Paris accords prod the pivot from petroleum to panels. Peak oil's phantom looms, tar sands tarrying in Alberta's mire as EVs hum past the pumps. Oil's no spent wick-it's a wick that scorched the globe, a reminder that the thirst that built us might just be the blaze that breaks us.