The policies that Gavin Newsom has pushed have been a DISASTER for California!
We have the highest cost of living, the highest poverty rate, the highest unemployment, the worst business climate, and businesses and people fleeing the state….
We cannot go on like this—we need change! ☀️👊
J.D. Vance said it: the same deep state forces that took down Nixon tried to take down Trump. I know. I was there and tried to stop them the first time. This time we're going to finish them off for good. https://t.co/mzgrIFtviq
I can't believe we all read Orwell. We all know the lessons.
Then the government and education systems decided to erase or re-write history.
And everyone just went along with it.
Humans. Why. WTF.
Press Sec. Leavitt says Americans are worried about how far left the Democrat party is moving and issues a warning:
"This is not your granddaddy's Democrat Party. These are communists."
A majority of Californians believe we need change.
Enough with the highest costs and highest taxes for the worst results! We’re building a coalition of people from all walks of life to turn our state around. ☀️👊
🚨BREAKING SPECIAL REPORT: THE GLOBALIST DEEP STATE PLOT TO DESTROY TRUMP HAS JUST BEEN TOTALLY EXPOSED! 🚨
🔥 The ultimate treasonous conspiracy has been ripped wide open! We are exposing the hidden globalist network pulling the strings from the shadows to destroy the American Republic and sabotage Donald Trump!
🔥 Discover the shocking connection between the DSA, the CFR, and the DEAD COMMUNIST whose radical ideology is driving Mamdani and the Deep State elites in their desperate POST-TRUMP PLOT! This is the raw, uncensored truth they tried so hard to bury!
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https://t.co/qb6OZdDhLL
🔥 VIDEO SOURCE: @PrometheanActn
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Sport of Kings - Lesson #27
Sit, vecchio amico. Try the olives, newly arrived.
Tonight we speak only of the dead — a great house in the old country. Let the young ones stand close. Two old men saying a true thing plain carries farther than a lesson aimed at a young head, though it may fall, and that heavily, upon them.
Power is never given. It’s taken. No man sets it down willingly — he holds till it’s torn from his hands, and he’s right to do so. The thing handed down soft, never seized, rots, quick. Two generations, maybe less, and it’s gone. The grip that holds power is grown only in the taking. Give a son the chair he never fought for, you hand him a sword with no arm to swing it.
That house — we don’t say the name — four generations the envy of all. Not by blood, by eyes. They saw a man’s measure and gave the chair to the able one. Four times. Then a great man lived, maybe, too long. Who am I to say. At the end, his heart outshone his eyes; he gave the chair to his son for love, not strength. In that boy’s own life, the house was ash. The old man’s love was the knife.
Hear the hard thing. Some sons have iron but no fire yet; a cruel winter or two makes them steel. Others have no iron, only softer metals — these no flame will harden. The cruelest thing is a father who won’t see the difference, telling himself one more year, while his eyes already know the core is wrong, clean through.
This arithmetic spares no tears. The builder bleeds. The wrong son remembers the bleeding, coasts on the memory. The grandson then knows only the warm house, the full table — and one idle afternoon sells it all for a whisper that the old ways were fools’ ways.
Three chairs: builder, rememberer, empty.
That house could’ve been saved. Blood was never the only vessel. There’s always a cousin, a nephew, a chosen one with the grip the blood son lacks. They had only to do what they’d done four times — take the able over the born. No betrayal. That’s the blood’s true loyalty: the house is bigger than any boy. The family is larger than the family. Forget that, you’ve lost everything.
Now, the heir. Three roads, all his to walk. Rise — take the hard winter become winters, forge himself, seize the house with his own hands. Step aside with honor, serve the family his way. No shame in that. It is an honorable path. Or the third — when a man will neither rise nor yield but stands in the doorway of ruin and hauls it down on every head. I’ll not say it plain.
You know what a house does to keep an unworthy hand off its throat. A terrible thing, answerable before God. But a house that won’t do it has already chosen ash. The boy chooses which road. Always the boy. And he chooses early. Though he may not know it. The father must. The only mercy in this — he, the boy, writes the end himself.
And hear this last — the lesson that old man never learned. When the chair is contested, born son against the chosen, that fight is not yours. I know it burns to reach in, name your man. Don’t. Reach in, you ruin both. The one you lift is handed it soft, doomed. The one you crush might’ve been the steel the house needed. No. Build the ring. Make it strong so the fight within can’t spill out. Put them in. Let the fight forge the grip, show who can take and hold. The one who walks out seized it. A thing seized, a man can keep. Carry that weight always — more so if your own blood never comes out. Make the peace after, if peace can be had. And if no peace, what must, is what must.
That’s the house that fell, amico. No one calls on it now — no one’s left. A great man who couldn’t weigh his son. A boy who walked none of his roads. Who chose not to walk any of the required roads. Who though himself a man, though he never truly earned his place as one. And the old men, consiglieri, who kept a polished silence where one hard word should’ve stood, until the hard word came too late, in a dark suit, with a spade. These were not wise men of counsel, they were assassins of another breed, also men lived perhaps too long.
Now you know the mind of my house. I aim it true at no man here now — only the dead and the distant. Unless it falls upon you, of your own accord. I said this thing in the open, before the young ones, and those of our houses, every man a witness. Let it stand: we love the house more than the boy. Even our own. Even the one I’d give my heart to spare. The one my heart will end if he chooses against his house. No matter. The day comes I must weigh my own blood and find it wanting, every man here knows what I’ll do, and what I won’t flinch from. Hold my house to it. I’ve spent my family’s word to mourn a great house that spent nothing and lost everything — I pay that gladly. This not sharing the word. It cost them a hundred years. I’ll not see it cost us even one full afternoon.
One small caution, more, before we pour the wine: while they must take power from us, as we work to prevent them, neither they nor we can burn the House down in the struggle. This is the real power of our way, the secret of the Sport. Whatever the younger generation does to take power from us, must make the house stronger than we in our time, or our fathers in their time before us, ever made it.
Remember this, vecchio amico. We old men, we remember the losses, of others, of ourselves, and we would spare the young this. But we cannot. Not if our houses are to stand. You, young ones, you think on these things harder still. For the time of your final choosing, is soon upon us all.
For those with a grudge against their own country, it’s sustained mass migration, especially from countries with quite different cultures, that’s the surest and swiftest way to change and punish a place that’s irredeemably tainted by unforgivable sin. This is done in order to dilute and eventually to extinguish the Anglo-Celtic core culture and the Judaeo-Christian foundational ethos (which is actually what attracts migrants to the Anglosphere) that today’s left-establishment finds so suffocating and judgmental. And it’s to encourage migrants to “other” themselves by funding ethnic activism under Orwellian slogans like “our diversity is our unity” or “our diversity is our strength”.
In this regard, migrants from Islamic countries are especially useful, because belief in a global caliphate, and the conviction that it’s the Koran rather than the legislature that validates law, starts to make pluralist democracy unworkable. To green-left, cultural-Marxist governments, mass migration from the “global south” is not a problem; it’s the plan. It’s the way for supposedly unjustly rich countries to atone for their white privilege and to apologise to poorer ones by becoming more like them.
Read my full speech to the @ARC_Conference at The Tony Abbott Newsletter: https://t.co/C6xWBMS8HB.
@QBCCIntegrity@AusPoll6 https://t.co/rrLVfxhjfU
Watch this and understand how Australia should embrace Hamilton’s American system of economics. Each time you hear United States change it for Australia and this should be our economic policy 🇦🇺 🇺🇸
🚨 JUST IN: President Trump is going on a full CRUSADE against Communism
He’s prepared all his life for this!
“Communism is the Greatest Threat to our Country since World War I, World War II, Pearl Harbor, or 9/11! President DONALD J. TRUMP” 🇺🇸