John Daley 📎

Dad 4 boy. Husband 4 wife. ❤️s family. Red-coated 'Sheepdog.' Go Bruins. Friend of Laphroig, Letterkenny, 🏳️‍🌈, X’ed tuning forks, SMLE's, K-Frames & G34MOS.

[John Daley 📎 @J_D_C_Daley]

@TWilsonOttawa ‘Fiat of Kings’… To bloody hell w/ Royal Privilege! Oh but when she has it, it’s positive. Use a damned OIC on something that she values & watch the hypocrisy go bloody stratospheric…!

Hypocritical fools.

Gloves
Are
Off

[John Daley 📎 @J_D_C_Daley]

@CanuckStrength @Feral999 ‘Austrocised’…? WTF? Better to have been thought the village idiot than to have opened yer gob & removed all doubt. But do prattle on - it’s entertaining. Meanwhile, back at the adult table, the adults wonder, “Does he mean ‘circumcised’?” Seizing guns is one thing but… dude…

[John Daley 📎 @J_D_C_Daley]

@Shawn_P250 @Feral999 ‘Unarmed’? Might wanna be careful w/ the assumptions…

[John Daley 📎 @J_D_C_Daley]

@TWilsonOttawa @nanrob3942 Yeah. Supposedly knows better than the rest of the unwashed as regards restoring our economy to pre-Justin levels…

Riiiiiiiiiiiigghhhhhhhhhht…..

Elbows where?

[John Daley 📎 @J_D_C_Daley]

@TWilsonOttawa Barking seals gotta bark…

[John Daley 📎 @J_D_C_Daley]

@briant_bear @Smith_WessonInc I’d put the M19 ahead of nearly anything else, but that’s me. Prefer a HP over a 1911 for a SA sidearm, but that’s also me. Never really yearned for a 1911 of my own. Have an old 645 2nd Gen as my 1st .45 ACP & followed that up w/ a willed-to-me, bone stock M457, uses same mags!

[John Daley 📎 @J_D_C_Daley]

@gazpromqueen @echipiuk Saw that in real time. Drew me in. Been a supporter of hers ever since. But wouldn’t it have been wild to see their heads implode or eyeballs spin upon hearing of her demographics getting her seat? And then running for Leadership…🗯️

[John Daley 📎 @J_D_C_Daley]

@sauve_brian When will there be an election again, Brian?

[Tracey Wilson @TWilsonOttawa]

The wildest part of yesterday’s unhinged press conference, was Provost yelling at the media, demanding they stop platforming the “gun lobby”.

She wants you to stop hearing from stakeholders, the ONLY people impacted by this gun grab.

Good, honest people who’ve done nothing to deserve this.

This grab doesn’t affect criminals, or repeat violent offenders - they get a free pass. 🇨🇦🆘

[@freedomtoffend.com @likeDavyWatts]

I was a professor for 15 years at the University of Guelph-Humber.
I said Hamas were Nazis — in a comment to a stranger in Pakistan, unrelated to my job.

A faculty member with thousands of posts calling Jews “filth” and “subhuman” helped lead the campaign against me.

I was suspended without charges.
Within hours, a completely false story about me was circulating across campus.

The university refused to correct it — and let it spread for two years.
Their “human rights” department didn’t investigate him. They cleared him.

Jewish students had already told me they felt they had to hide their Stars of David.

I told them they could come to my office if they ever felt unsafe.
I was fired.

They were left without that protection.

If you think this matters, restack this.

#CampusClimate #AcademicIntegrity #DueProcessMatters #InstitutionalAccountability #FreeInquiry #ProtectStudents #EqualStandards #CivilLiberties
@HeterodoxAcademy @TheFIREorg @speechunion @ARPAcanada @CIJAinfo @bnaibrithcanada @nationalpost @JohnIvison

https://t.co/pn9FVIQfpv

[John Daley 📎 @J_D_C_Daley]

@GailSmithlegal @TWilsonOttawa Consider the %’s here for a minute… How many prosecutors in the nation again? Google it. And how many lawful firearms owners are there? Lots & lots & lots…

Carry on being ignorant, willfully blind or not adequately caffeinated. But math is important folks!

[John Daley 📎 @J_D_C_Daley]

@Muatra @UCCavalier @FortySacks Correct. Politics is the art of the POSSIBLE. If you are told, ‘Your plan is undoable,’ then you do not do it. That defined the previous Liberal ‘govt’ to a ‘T’. This mess cannot be completed as designed, they well-know it & feel that they are not (yet?) in position to stop it.

[John Daley 📎 @J_D_C_Daley]

@zach_therock44 @GunOwnersofCana I wouldn’t have said “willingly have their names run daily.” Rather, I would have said ‘suffer having their names run…’ instead. But I understand & agree w/ you completely. I am trustworthy & have a proven track record of it. Leave me the heLL alone until I become problematic.

[John Daley 📎 @J_D_C_Daley]

@dramaticfred @Michaelkinger73 @realjaysneezy @ryangerritsen @grok Now that’s funny right there…

[Mike Parsons @mikep_lbi]

The world at Little Bay Islands is still dressed in shades of night, a deep indigo brushed with the faintest charcoal grey, when the journey begins. Before the sun has made its decision to rise, the path around the harbour calls. It is a quiet pilgrimage, a daily conversation with the world in its most honest state. In the photograph, the wild grasses stand as dark sentinels against the dawn’s first blush, their feathery tops a delicate script written on the horizon. They are the first witnesses to the day, and to walk among them is to become a witness, too. This is not a task or a routine, but a practice. It is the practice of paying attention.

Many would wonder at the devotion to a single, repeated stretch of road. They might see the same water, the same rocks, the same houses huddled against the shore and ask if the landscape ever grows tired. The truth is, the landscape is never the same. To believe it is unchanging is to look without truly seeing. The secret is that this walk is not a circle, but a spiral, returning to the same coordinates but from a different place in time, in season, in spirit. Each day offers a new lesson in the language of subtlety. The light alone is an endless study. In the sharp air of September, it arrives as a sliver of molten gold, casting long, dramatic shadows that make the familiar world seem theatrical and new. In the thick blanket of a July fog, the light is a diffuse, pearlescent glow, softening every edge and muffling all sound, transforming the harbour into a dreamscape where land and water dissolve into one another. A winter morning offers a light that is thin and crystalline, so pure it seems to hum, reflecting off the snow with a brilliance that is both stark and beautiful. To see this is to understand that light is not merely a thing that allows for sight; it is an active participant, a painter that changes the canvas every single day.

The sounds of the harbour tell their own story, a daily orchestration that shifts with the mood of the ocean. On the calmest of mornings, there is a profound silence. It is not an absence of sound, but a presence. It is a quiet so deep you can hear the whisper of your own breath, the steady, reliable beat of your own heart. In this stillness, the distant cry of a gull is not a noise but an event, a sharp, lonely note that hangs in the air before dissolving. Then there are the other days, the days of conversation, when a gentle breeze rustles the dry leaves of late autumn, a sound like soft applause for the turning of the season. And then there are the days of fury, when a northeasterly wind drives the North Atlantic into the harbour. On these mornings, there is no silence. There is only the roar, a percussive and ancient rhythm of water crashing against rock. It is a sound that does not ask for your attention but commands it, a reminder of the immense, untamable power that cradles this small island. The sound of the ocean is the earth’s own heartbeat, sometimes a gentle murmur, other times a thunderous pulse.

This feast for the senses extends beyond sight and sound. The very air has a texture and a scent that changes with the calendar. There is the ever present smell of the sea, a clean, briny perfume that speaks of distance and depth. After a low tide, it mingles with the damp, organic scent of seaweed drying on the beaches. Following a summer rain, the air is thick with the smell of wet earth and grateful grass, a fragrance of pure renewal. In winter, the air is different again; it is so cold and clean that it feels sharp in the lungs, carrying no scent at all, as if the world has been washed clean. To walk this path is to feel the cool, damp kiss of the fog on your skin, to feel the bite of the wind and the gentle warmth of the first sunbeam as it finally crests the hill. It is an immersion, a full body experience of place.

To pause, as I did for this photograph, is to move from simple observation to a deeper state of communion. It is one thing to see the grass silhouetted against the sky. It is another thing entirely to feel it, to recognize in its fragile, resilient form a reflection of your own existence. This is where the walk becomes philosophical. In these quiet moments of deep looking, the boundary between the self and the world begins to blur. The steadfastness of the ancient rock formations instills a sense of patience. The relentless cycle of the tides teaches a lesson in acceptance, in letting go and trusting what returns. The seasonal journey of the trees, from bare winter branches to the full green of summer, becomes a mirror for one’s own seasons of loss and growth.

This small harbour, this single stretch of road on a resettled island, becomes a microcosm of the entire, vast universe. One does not need to climb great mountains or traverse great deserts to feel a connection to the cosmos. The infinite is present in the particular, in the way a droplet of dew clings to a spider’s web, in the complex patterns of lichen on a stone, in the slow, majestic drift of the clouds. By grounding yourself in this one specific place, by learning its moods and its secrets, you find your own anchor in the immensity of it all. The solitude of the morning walk is not loneliness; it is a profound and comforting companionship with the world itself. It is here, in the quiet dialogue between your inner world and the outer landscape, that a true sense of belonging is forged. You are not just in this place, you are of this place.

The journey each morning is therefore twofold. It is an outward exploration of the physical world, a charting of the subtle shifts in the land and sea. But it is also an inward pilgrimage, a journey into the quiet landscape of the soul. The peace you find in the harbour is the peace you carry within you. The wonder you see in the rising sun is the wonder that resides in your own heart. The world outside is a reflection of the world inside. So do not only step outside to see where you live but also step inside yourself to experience the world inside you.

[John Daley 📎 @J_D_C_Daley]

@spittinchiclets Wonderful to see. Well-earned that was. Conn ‘Smythe runner-up’…

[Spittin' Chiclets @spittinchiclets]

Marchand reunites with his family on the ice after winning his second Stanley Cup

Truly what it’s all about 👏 🥹

[John Daley 📎 @J_D_C_Daley]

@pedroshalott @RCKmak @puckempire #63…

[TSN @TSN_Sports]

"When you see the pressure Toronto faces... they just beat the pressure into this team."

Brad Marchand says the Toronto fans and media put extra pressure on the team.

[Mike Harrington @ByMHarrington]

Brad Marchand prepping for his *13th* Game 7. Mind blowing. Can be first player in NHL history to go 5-0 against one team in them if #FlaPanthers beat #Leafs.