The Land Run of 1889 happened on April 22, at high noon. It is said that 50,000 people lined up to get a piece of the 2 million acre pie. Some wily codgers even hid out in the acreage beforehand to get an illegal head start. Had they not done so, they'd have merely been bitter codgers.
"Oh, why hello there? Would you like some land settler? Yes? Well, why didn't you say so earlier? You've just been standing there, looking confused and hungry. We just happen to have some of the finest land in this god-fearing country over there in that 2 million acre lot. Yes, just right over there, next to the bouncy house and used cars. Now, your options are as follows: on one hand you have free land for your family and a future of prosperity, while on the other you have starvation, death by scalping or smallpox. To each his own, I say!
Now that you're on board, what you want to do is run out there, waaaay out there, at high noon, and then once you get somewhere you might have to kill some fellow countrymen for a good position, but after that's taken care of - "voila" - it's your land son! It's simple and easy, aside from the risk and probable murdering you'll have to do, but hey, I won't tell (wink). Watch out for ninjas and sickos too. They seem to be everywhere these days. Yeah, I know this whole thing is a great idea - that's why I thought of it fuckface! That's right, where I am pointing: LAND! You eyeballing me boy? Hey, just playing, partner! Now go get 'em you sick bastard!"
Thus, manifest destiny was set in carbonite forever.