Red Phone

[Brett Pike @ClassicLearner]

The footage of Karmelo Anthony stabbing Austin Metcalf was just released.

Zoom in toward the right side of the tent and watch it a few times.

Push
Stab
Run

That’s what you call murder.

[Red Phone @CoOhMeX]

@RT_com Govt is the enemy of the people. Nothing but thieves.

[Red Phone @CoOhMeX]

@realMaalouf Get the whips out

[Red Phone @CoOhMeX]

@THEMarkEdwards1 @anniedufour99 @_jameshatfield_ She is a retarded commie.

[Red Phone @CoOhMeX]

@anniedufour99 @_jameshatfield_ Communists like you need to get over to North Korea and Cuba and see what you preach. Fucking retard.

[Mario Zelaya @mario4thenorth]

@anniedufour99 My turn:

I worked more than your father.

I earn more than your father.

I have every right to complain about taxes when we send tens of billions overseas while Canadians die waiting for healthcare.

Stop using your father & his tax bracket as a political tool.

No one cares

[Red Phone @CoOhMeX]

@anniedufour99 Women need to lose the vote. Too stupid. Too emotional. Plain old suckers.

[Red Phone @CoOhMeX]

@EndWokeness Cause invaders from Africa brought to you by Satan Obama

[Red Phone @CoOhMeX]

@SenWarren Commie thieve

[Brett Pike @ClassicLearner]

People talk about homeschool socialization when the truth is Public school socialization is a disaster. They lock your kid in a room with ppl who are into violence, drugs, alcohol, promiscuity, & give them no way of escaping it. Just look at the rates of anxiety and depression.

[Red Phone @CoOhMeX]

@Heminator Govt is the enemy of the people. Wake up. They are murdering pedos. Police the their gang.

[Red Phone @CoOhMeX]

@PositivFuturist UK is done. Fuck those faggots. USA invasion is imminent

[Red Phone @CoOhMeX]

@DonaldBestCA @OttawaPolice Gang of the govt is the enemy of the people.

[Red Phone @CoOhMeX]

@BasilTheGreat Starmer needs to see the inside of a noose

[Red Phone @CoOhMeX]

@jakecobb @EndWokeness Faggot alert

[Red Phone @CoOhMeX]

@EndWokeness NBC is globalist evil organization they need to be shutdown for the Covid 19 murder they are complicit

[Matt Agorist @MattAgorist]

Not all heroes wear capes….

[Farai Mazhindu @FaraiMazhindu]

When 46 individuals capture over half of all BEE mining deals, the grand illusion of economic transformation is completely shattered.

This is not empowerment. It is institutionalised kleptocracy disguised as social justice.

The BEE has functioned as a closed loop syndicate for a tiny, politically connected elite.

In South Africa, you do not achieve success through operational excellence, mineral innovation, or capital efficiency. You achieve it through proximity to the ruling party's deployment committee.

Forty-six ANC cadres get unimaginably wealthy by simply signing their names on ownership certificates, while the actual miners and surrounding communities continue to live in absolute squalor.

Global capital and serious mining houses look at South Africa and see an uninvestable landscape. They are forced to hand over massive equity chunks to non-productive political cronies just for the permission to build.

Instead of investing profits back into advanced machinery, geological exploration, and stable logistics, billions are siphoned off into luxury estates and foreign bank accounts.

When a regime treats its national resources as a private treasury for a selected few, it has surrendered all moral legitimacy to govern.

[EM Burlingame - 蒲 奕 言 @EMBurlingame]

Now to the Fight of Our Restoration
by: E.M. Burlingame

You have heard me before. You will hear nothing new now, at this. What I have to say on the edge of this field of battle, I would say to you in the street on any ordinary morning. It is the only thing I have ever had to say.

For decades we have talked. God, how we have talked. We named the danger. We wrote it down. We raised our glasses to what our fathers built and swore, with heat in our mouths, that we would never let it go — and then we went to home, went to sleep, woke and went to work. And we lost it anyway. A little each year, while our hands stayed in our pockets and our fine words changed nothing.

Greater peoples than us have died exactly that way. Not in silence — in speeches. They saw it coming. They described it well. They mourned it before it was gone, and never once rose in time. Their words are still there in the ruins, for anyone who cares to read them. No one does. It is shameful to have acted such. To let your people die in just such way.

There is a thing that wakes a true man in the black before dawn and will not let him lie still. Not fear. Older than fear. It is the whole of what we are, embedded deep in the bone — the toast we all know, the song every man here could finish if I stopped singing it, the brawl many of us were in not so long ago. You do not think it. You feel it, the way you feel the wound of your more formidable years. And in the small hours it aches, because the honest part of you already knows what is being asked of you to prevent the final loss.

And there is a moment — most of you have had it, alone, where no one could see — when the thought of losing this great thing our ancestors died in the making or defending to bring ensure became, it takes you by the throat and your eyes sting and you are glad of the dark. A man would sooner die than be seen so. I know. I have had it too. Great tears near fallen from my eyes. Far more than I'll admit.

That is not weakness. Those tears are the hottest forge there is. They do not break the heart; they harden it. Grief goes in soft and comes out iron. And out of the iron comes a cold thing, a quiet thing, far worse for our enemies than any speech — the settled promise to see this through, or see the end of ourselves in the trying and the doing. That takes more than anger. It takes the balls of men who stand the line, and the battle scarred hands to hold it when the standing turns real.

Only then do we stop talking. Only then do we move. Once we've felt, not thought, what is being lost, taken.
Now hear what we are, because the enemy has told you a lie about it, and some of you have half believed it. Far too many of you tell it to yourselves so you need not feel more than hollow righteous senses.

We were nothing once. Tribes in the mud, cutting each other's throats over a field — Saxon, Dane, Briton, Scot, the lot of us. And then, across near a thousand hard years, Alfred and the sons of Alfred, the kings and the great lords who came after them, built a thing that had never been built by any people in the history of the world. Hear me plainly: it was kings who built this. Great men. There is no Commons without them, and any man who tells you otherwise has spat on the graves of better men that bought him his freedom. And here is the wonder no other lords on earth have ever matched — they bound themselves to it. They set the crown under the same law as the cowherd, not because they were forced to it, but because they knew what they were: not masters of the thing, but keepers of it. Part of it. Common men themselves, the highest of them, in a Commons that ran from the throne to the mud. They pushed it all the way down, until the lowest man alive held a sovereignty no crown could touch — and held the crown to that same law just the same. Not a culture. Not a society. A civilization — the first ever built out of principles and an idea instead of a religion or a government or a collection of bloodlines. We built it first. We carried it furthest. We pushed it deepest. And we did not hoard it.

We held the door open. Never wide. But open — to any man with the common sense and the rock-hard spine to earn his way through, and the willingness to bleed to ruin for it once he had. Look down your own line. Men whose grandfathers would have killed each other on sight now stand shoulder to shoulder. Men whose people came from no shore of ours stand here as full peers, blood of our blood, because they earned it the only way it can be earned — in sacrifice, beside us, on this same line. Killing and dying. They are not less than us. Different, yes. But they joined us. They proved it the hard way. In sweat and blood and lives freely but dearly given. My fathers proved it long before theirs. Centuries before. Theirs proved it after. Across a century and more. You must prove it now, in this.

That is the Common Man. Not the poor man alone, not the middling man — not the average fellow from anywhere. Every man within the Commons who takes up the weight of his own sovereignty and never sets it down: the king on his horse no less than the cowherd in the ditch, the man born to it no less than the man who earned his way in. There have never been many of him. There are not many now. Most of the world never reached for the thing at all, and plenty born inside it have gone soft, spiteful and malevolent having let it slip, and in this forfeiting their place, whoever their fathers were — king's son and beggar's son alike. The line does not run between peoples, nor between high and low. It runs between those who will carry the weight of responsible sovereignty and those who won't — and now it runs straight through this battlefield before us, and every man here is about to demonstrate which side of it he stands on.

This thing our ancestors fought each other and others for. This Commons of sovereign men. Centuries and entire civilizational challenges and wars later. Its greatest flower grew across the sea, in America — the boldest thing we ever dared, the Common Man, great and small, made the whole foundation of a nation. That is what we are. That is what we let go nearly to utter ruin. That is what waits on the far side of this battlefield to be taken back.

Hear the cost once, plainly, and then I am done with words. If we lose here, it is not only we who fall. The line of men willing to restore this thing falls with us, and the door closes, and there is no one behind us in all the world who will open it again. Win, and we buy another hundred years for it to live. As our direct ancient ancestors once earned. Lose, and the sovereign Common Man goes out of the world like a candle, and does not come back.

Now let me speak to you not as a prince, but as one more man in this mud — for that is all the law ever made me, and all this day will remember me as. I'll not lie to you: many of us will not see the future. Perhaps I am among them. If I fall here, I fall as you fall — a Common Man, no more, no less, my blood the same red in the same cold ground. I have never asked a man to go where I would not go at his shoulder, and I do not begin tonight. When the line goes forward, look for me in it. I will be there, in the worst of it, a Common Man beside Common Men. Not a one of us COMMON.

So feel it. In the marrow. In the toast and the song and the old scars. Feel it in the soft places you have padded against the cold — and feel how thin that comfort is against what stands to be lost.

And then stand.

You are not here to fight for the Common Man. You are not here to die for him — some idealized, unreal thing. Look down. He is wearing your boots. He is breathing in your chest. The whole of it — Alfred's law, the open door, the thing no other people ever built — it is standing on this battlefield right now, AND IT IS YOU.

So stand this line. Do not let it waver — no matter the host set against us. Hold it as the men before you held it, and one more century is ours. Maybe a thousand more. Let it go, and it is gone for good.

No more words. Only the ache in your chest, and the wrath of man that follows.

MAKE IT OURS!

MAKE IT OURS, AGAIN!

STAND!!!

[Red Phone @CoOhMeX]

@Nostre_damus @KingKong9888 What was the lowest spread?