Because their enemy is our enemy. They will kill our enemy if we pay them. No American lives are lost. Pretty easy math.
Biden fucked everyone by not going all in on day 1. Trump has been tepid at best. Imagine how much better Iran goes for us had we been hand-in-hand with Ukraine from the beginning.
USA. A diner. I ordered a cola, and they handed me a cup that was ninety percent ice.
I have learned how to measure an American's honor.
The drink came in a cup the size of my helmet. Inside: a mountain of ice, and somewhere beneath it, a rumor of cola. I tilted it. The ice did not move. It was load-bearing.
In Japan, a few cubes, politely. Here, an avalanche. And once I stopped being confused, I was moved.
Ice is not free. Someone must make it, store it, guard it through the heat. To bury a man's drink in it is not stinginess disguised. It is the opposite. It is a lord opening his treasury and saying: take all of it, take more than you need, I have so much that I do not even count.
The ice is the boast. The drink is just the excuse to deliver it.
So now I judge every establishment by the ice. A weak handful, and I know the house is humble, careful, perhaps struggling. A roaring glacier, and I know I am in the presence of abundance, and I bow before I drink.
The waiter came to refill me. He lifted the scoop, and he gave me more.
More. I had not finished. He gave me more anyway. I nearly stood and saluted.
"Most generous," I told him. "Your house is rich beyond measure."
He said, "...you want less ice next time, buddy?"
Less ice. As if I would insult him by refusing his treasure. I told him no. I told him to bury me.
I drank for forty minutes. The cola lasted four. The remaining thirty-six were spent honoring the ice directly, one melting cube at a time, until the cup held only cold water and my own deep respect.
I left the fullest I have ever been, having ordered almost nothing.
A man does not come to America for the drink.
He comes for the mountain it is hidden under.
Look, they keep saying there’s no way to reopen the Strait by force. And I’m thinking… well, unless you’re gonna send 500,000 Americans over there.
You know, like a whole ‘Hey everybody, pack your bags, we’re going on a field trip’ situation.
That’s not happening. We’re not doing that.
That’s Iran’s hole card. That’s the one thing where we just look at it and go, ‘…yep. They got us.’
We got the best military in the world and somehow their move is ‘What if we just sit here and make it really inconvenient?’
And we’re like… ‘Dang. That’s a good one.’”
Tesla allows you to play video from the car to your phone. What this driver has done is screenshot that video so that you can see the self driving icons below the video. Looking closely, you can see that FSD is breaking and turning the car to the right slowly. Too little, too late. But that's what's going on. The breaking icon on the left shows you how the car is breaking.
@MikeEmbrich You guys can have my Tesla when you pry my cold, dead hands from their arms folded position because the fucking car is driving itself. i've never loved an inanimate object more than I love this car.
Why am I just seeing this now? This might be the greatest MLB X account interaction. A lot of screenshots but definitely worth your time. Follow along in the thread below because this might be the best thing you’ll see on here all week.
I wonder if these two are married or still together.
I’m going to say this as calmly as possible:
Watching Caitlin Clark in the WNBA has become genuinely hard to stomach.
Not because she struggles sometimes. Not because she makes mistakes. Not because she gets criticized. That comes with being great.
It’s hard to stomach because it has become obvious that the league, the officials, the media, the players, and even her own organization have all decided that the most important thing is not letting Caitlin Clark become too big.
And that is insane.
This league was handed the most marketable, electric, revenue-generating player women’s basketball has ever seen, and instead of building around the moment, too many people seem obsessed with humbling her.
She gets fouled. Held. Hit. Cheap-shotted. Mocked. Targeted. Then when she reacts like a normal competitor, suddenly everyone wants to analyze her attitude.
No.
Her attitude is not the story.
The story is that a generational player is being treated like a problem by the very league she helped drag into mainstream relevance.
This reminds me of the worst kind of youth coach... the one who sees a special player, feels threatened by her talent, and slowly drains the joy out of her in the name of “teaching humility.”
That is what this looks like.
The freedom she played with at Iowa is disappearing. The fire is still there, but the joy looks damaged. The confidence looks weighed down. She looks like someone constantly fighting the refs, opponents, narratives, coaching decisions, jealousy, and a league culture that should be protecting its golden opportunity instead of resenting it.
And let’s be honest: Stephanie White has not helped.
Benching Caitlin Clark randomly when she is controlling the game tempo, or having your best shooter off the floor in critical game ending minutes when a victory is within reach is basketball malpractice. Limiting her rhythm, downplaying her greatness, benching momentum, and treating her like just another piece instead of the engine is absurd.
You do not take a player who changed the economics of your sport and manage her like you’re afraid her greatness might offend the room.
Nike deserves criticism too. Other players get signature shoes rolled out with urgency, while the biggest draw in women’s basketball is somehow still waiting on that signature shoe. That is not confusing. That is revealing.
Fans are not stupid.
They see the fouls.
They see the double standards.
They see the jealousy.
They see the media resentment.
They see the league benefiting from her popularity while refusing to fully embrace her.
And here is the part the WNBA better understand quickly:
People are not tuning in to watch Caitlin Clark be humbled.
They are tuning in to watch Caitlin Clark be great.
If she walked away tomorrow, the fans would follow her. The sponsors would follow her. The energy would follow her. The high salaries and the charter jets would follow her. And the league would be forced to confront the uncomfortable truth it keeps trying to avoid:
Caitlin Clark did not need the WNBA nearly as much as the WNBA needed Caitlin Clark.
At some point, her family, her agent, and her team need to ask a hard question:
How much longer do you let a league profit from her while allowing the culture around her to beat the spirit out of her?
Because from the outside looking in, this does not look like normal adversity anymore. It looks like abuse.
It looks like a league trying to break the very player who made millions of people care.
https://t.co/AAxFrO46Z4