In Texas I was taken to a grocery store called H-E-B.
I asked what the letters stand for. My friend said, "Howard Edward Butt."
I waited for the rest of the name. There was no rest. The man built an empire on his actual name, and the empire did not flinch.
Inside, a woman in a red apron said, "Welcome! Finding everything okay?"
I had been inside for eleven seconds. I had found nothing. I had not begun to look.
"...I have only just arrived."
"Well, let me know if you need anything, sweetheart."
Sweetheart. From a stranger with a price gun. I held the cart handle with both hands and tried to proceed as a man who had not just been loved at the produce section.
The store was clean in a way that suggested someone cared about it the way my grandmother cared about her kitchen floor. Not for the guests. For the floor.
A man named Dale in the meat department was cutting brisket behind glass. I watched him work. He held the knife the way a calligrapher holds a brush. Each cut landed in the same place twice.
I bowed slightly. I could not help it.
Dale looked up. "You want a sample, boss?"
"...I was paying respects to your blade work."
He paused. Then he cut a piece, put it on a toothpick, and handed it over the counter.
"Well, that's a first. Most folks just ask if I got any ribs left."
I ate it. It was perfect. I told him it was perfect.
"Appreciate that. Twenty-six years behind this counter."
Twenty-six years. The same counter. The same knife. In my country we would call this man a living national treasure and put him on television. Here he wore a red apron and asked if I wanted it wrapped.
Then the storm came.
I do not mean this as a metaphor. A hurricane was approaching the coast, and I learned something about this grocery store that I did not believe until I saw it with my own eyes.
H-E-B has mobile kitchens. Disaster relief trucks. A full-time Director of Emergency Preparedness. Over a hundred and fifty thousand employees they call Partners, and when the wind starts to build, the Partners do not go home.
They drive toward it.
During Hurricane Harvey, this grocery store fed thousands. They sent trucks into flooded towns before the government arrived. Before the Red Cross set up. Before anyone asked.
A grocery store. With a meat counter and a bakery and a sign that says HERE EVERYTHING'S BETTER.
Texans have a name for H-E-B during hurricanes. They call it the FEMA of Texas. I have confirmed this. Multiple Texans said it to me without smiling, the way you state the name of a general who does not lose.
I asked Dale if he had worked during Harvey.
He stopped cutting. He set the knife down, which I had not seen him do.
"Drove in at four in the morning. Water was up to my truck doors. Store was the only thing open for nine miles. We made sandwiches till we ran out of bread. Then corporate sent more bread. Then we ran out again."
"...How long?"
"Sixteen days."
I stood there holding a package of brisket in both hands and tried to find the word.
"...You are not a butcher, Dale."
He picked up his knife. "Sure I am."
In my country, a man who feeds his village through a disaster is honored for the rest of his life. In Texas, he is called a butcher, and he goes back to the counter on Monday, and he does not mention it unless you ask, and even then he picks up his knife before he finishes the story, because the brisket is not going to cut itself.
The store was founded in 1905 by a woman named Florence Butt, who put sixty dollars' worth of groceries on a shelf on the ground floor of her family's home in a town called Kerrville. That was the whole store. One shelf. One room. Sixty dollars.
A hundred and twenty years later, the family still owns it.
I walked out with four bags. A boy in a red apron carried two of them to my car. I told him I could carry my own bags. He said, "I know you can. But I'm already here, so."
I did not tip him. He would not let me.
I drove home past the highway where the flood line was still visible on the guardrail, three feet up, and I thought about Dale, and the bread, and the knife, and the name Howard Edward Butt, who was not embarrassed by it, because the name is not the point.
The shelf is the point.
Florence Butt put sixty dollars on a shelf in 1905. A hundred and twenty years later, when the water rose and the power died, the shelf was still standing, and there was bread on it.
A store is not its name. A store is whether the bread is there when you need it.
The bread was there.
1. I’m not a Christian. I’m an atheist who’s ethnically Jewish.
2. Molesting children is illegal in every Christian country, and every mainstream Christian sect condemns it outright. If you had video of a Christian molesting a child, you could turn it over to law enforcement and that Christian would go to prison. He would also be condemned by his pastor and his church community.
3. The abuse you are witnessing above is perfectly legal. It is expressly permitted in the Quran, and is carried out in Muslim societies on a regular basis. The man in that video will not go to jail, or even be visited by the police. His neighbors will not tell him to stop, or offer her any support.
I lived in a Muslim country for two years, Keke, and I touristed in others. I saw the women with their black eyes, their split lips, walking behind the men with their heads down. There were a lot of women with missing teeth in the Muslim countries I’ve been in — when they were allowed to show their faces, that is. I saw men abuse their wives in the public street — just turn around and start beating the crap out of them, while everyone else pretended nothing was wrong. To them, nothing was.
The abusers were always so indignant when we intervened, too. They’d tell us that we had no right to interfere between a man and his wife. And the more devout the country got, the worse the abusers got. They even started letting grown men marry little girls. Nine year olds. That’s what happens when Islam takes over. Look at Afghanistan, ffs.
4. It is past time for you to wake up and understand that Islam is a religion built on the abuse and domination of women. Islam’s main tenet is submission: man submits to God, woman submits to man, and he gets to take out all his frustrations on her.
Women are the Muslim man’s prize for good behavior: he has wives to rape and beat, and daughters to beat and sell. There’s precious little that’s more dehumanizing. Women are so worthless in Islamic culture that their presence in Paradise is an afterthought: their husbands will all have endless virgins with no bodily fluids to fvck; women get to sit in a garden and drink cool water.
5. The Quran - ever read it? I have - clearly states that women are worth less than men, and before you even start, the difference between that and the Bible is that Christians and Jews don’t actually live by strict Biblical law any more.
Muslims, on the other hand, still follow every word of the Quran. Men abuse and oppress women in the name of Islam in every single Muslim country and culture. It is simply a matter of degree.
6. 600 million of the women and girls alive today were sold into marriage as children to adult men, most of them to Muslim men. That’s 8% of the human race raped on their wedding night. It’s one female human in 6. Gonna tell me that’s rare? There are only a billion Muslims, Keke.
The fact is that you are playing apologist for the religion that is responsible for the worst human rights abuses on the planet. This is rare? It’s entire _countries_, Keke, multiple countries — and then they move to the West and they do that sh!t here! I’ve worked cases where Muslim parents had their daughters’ genitals mutilated in the US. There have been honor killings and acid attacks on Muslim girls by their own families because they were “too Westernized.”
Islam HATES women. It sees us as property: as animals with a human shape. They say so. They think we have one purpose: to serve men as men serve God — and their laws and their treatment of women reflect that.
You are an apologist for gynocide.
The same people who are ok with Flock Cameras signed up for TSA & Global Precheck at the airport.
😳
Oooops.
Most people have NO IDEA what they sold off for convenience with TSA Precheck, Global Precheck and every other program of convenience like it
I have studied the contracts. I have studied the handbooks.
Anyone who signed up for those programs already gave Flock permission to the Feds to collect and use all that data - they don’t need any other consent.
Learn more about YOUR RIGHTS at https://t.co/LMNVsIsNGK
These four charts are from CDC Wonder. Retrieved by John Beaudoin Sr. They are not speculation. They are the official death record of the United States.
Look at what they show.
Kidney failure in Americans aged 15 to 54, a population that does not die of kidney failure at scale, spiked in the winter of 2021 to 2022 to levels never recorded in the prior decade of data.
Not in 2020. Not during the first wave.
Not during the second. The third wave. After the rollout.
Pneumonia deaths in the same healthy age group followed the same pattern. Flat across ten years of baseline. Then 2020. Then higher in 2021. Then the winter of 2021 to 2022 produced a peak that dwarfs everything before it.
The COVID-coded deaths tell the same story from a different angle. The third wave was the deadliest. This is not how respiratory viruses behave in populations that have acquired immunity through prior infection and vaccination. Immunity, natural or induced, reduces severity over successive waves. It does not produce a third wave larger than the first two combined in a young, previously healthy population.
And the all-cause mortality chart says what all the others are pointing toward. Something was killing Americans aged 15 to 54 in the winter of 2021 to 2022 at a rate the previous ten years of data cannot explain and the official narrative has never honestly addressed.
There are two candidates. The hospital protocols that determined how sick people were managed once they entered the system. And the product that had been administered to the majority of the adult population by the time that winter arrived, whose mechanism of action on the immune system, on clotting function, on cardiovascular and renal physiology, was still being characterised in the same post-market environment that was producing the deaths now visible in these charts.
Kidney failure does not appear in a healthy population without a cause.
The cause is in the record.
John Beaudoin went and found it with a FOIA request and a spreadsheet while every institution with a budget, a mandate, and a legal obligation to ask the question did not ask it.
The charts are the question.
The silence is still the answer.
Credit to @JohnBeaudoinSr@SenRonJohnson@AaronSiriSG@P_McCulloughMD@stkirsch
Declaration of Digital Independence
We hold these truths to be self-evident in the digital age:
That every person has the right to speak without surveillance.
That every person has the right to think without manipulation.
That every person has the right to move through the world without being tracked.
That every person has the right to communicate privately.
That no corporation and no government holds any legitimate authority to override these rights, and that when any system of power becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to build something different.
Full video here:
https://t.co/TpSb0Kzgv4
https://t.co/w0zlXj2VmL
I was “black” when I read The Odyssey in high school...
...but somehow I never imagined the characters as looking like me.
Why?
Because they were GREEK characters.
I didn’t need Odysseus to look like me to appreciate his story.
I didn’t need Helen of Troy to look like me to understand her importance.
They were Greek characters from a specific culture, with a specific history.
And this is what Hollywood keeps getting wrong.
We don’t identify with characters because they look like us.
We connect with them because we recognize something human in them - their struggles, their courage, their flaws, their values.
Odysseus is a GREEK hero.
Helen of Troy is a GREEK woman.
Their identities are part of what makes their stories meaningful.
Casting Colombians and Africans and Indians as Greek ISN'T "representation."
It’s just insulting.
Stop it.
Almost all the reinforced concrete foundations of wind turbines ever built — weighing up to a thousand tonnes each — could be left to rot in the ground.
The number of turbines reaching the end of their working lives will soon surpass tens of thousands. As they degrade, they risk shedding their oily gearbox fluids, hydraulic liquids, and synthetic lubricants into the soil.
No one wants to deal with these massive concrete and steel monoliths later. Concrete may be mostly inert, but over the decades, these blocks can disrupt deep-soil hydrology and remain as permanent industrial junk below the surface of rural landscapes.
The concrete base of a typical early 2-3 MW wind turbine weighs 400 to 800 tonnes. But the foundations of later, even bigger turbines (5 MW+) can exceed 1,000 tonnes.
In many jurisdictions, decommissioning regulations only require the operator to clear the foundation to a depth of 1 meter below the surface. While contracts state operators are responsible, the financial reality is complex.
Bank guarantees or bonds set aside for removal (around $100,000 per turbine) are woefully inadequate. Real-world estimates for total removal and site restoration can exceed $200,000 to $400,000 per unit.
If the cost of total removal vastly exceeds the bond, there is a strong incentive for shell companies to declare bankruptcy — leaving landowners to foot the bill.
We are already seeing this play out at Victoria's Codrington wind farm. Operators announced plans to remove only the top 1.5-meter pedestal, leaving the bulk of the project's 20,000 tonnes of subterranean foundations permanently buried.
This triggered an intense backlash from local communities and MPs who argue it violates the original promise to restore the land.
It leaves a disturbing legacy.
An Open Letter to Dr. Erica Schwartz, CDC director nominee:
Ma’am, I watched your testimony the other day. I watched you laugh when the “safe and effective” line came up.
As a paramedic with decades on the job, I don’t deal in BS theater. I deal with reality on the ambulance cot every shift.
These last few years have been a straight up nightmare. I’m seeing sudden cardiac events, strokes, aggressive cancers in younger patients, record numbers of sepsis, unusual seizures and more aortic dissections than ever before… these aggressive patterns I didn’t see prior to the COVID shots, at this scale. Just before writing this I ran another stroke call. I see the common threads across hundreds of calls since the mandates rolled out.
When you laughed, it wasn’t abstract. It wasn’t funny haha… It was a slap that landed on the face of every patient we’ve coded, every grandparent we’ve transported, every young person now facing life and death health struggles they shouldn’t.
Frontline medics like me are connecting the obvious dots while too many in charge seem bound and determined not to. We’ve become a nation hesitant to ask the hard questions if it threatens the pharmaceutical narrative.
You may think the script holds. But the evidence is walking into every ER in America. It’s being cared for in the back of each ambulance. The “emergency” isn’t funny, and it’s not going away.
A tsunami is coming. Laughter won’t stop it.
Sincerely disgusted,
Harry Fisher
Paramedic
God bless
The last film where a boy learned something from a man.
Where good must KILL evil. Not dialogue with it. Not understand its trauma. Kill it.
Where a woman had to earn her strength — through loss, fear, and necessity — not receive it as a declaration of what she was owed for being a woman.
Where the hero never wavered. The goal was clear. The cost didn’t matter.
Where violence is inseparable from the survival instinct – the raw, non-negotiable price of continued existence.
There is no more cinema like this. Only blandness, ideological mush, and pretentious emptiness.
1. John Connor learned from a machine because the culture had already destroyed the men who should have taught him. T2 is the most honest film about fatherlessness ever made – wrapped in special effects so nobody noticed. A boy programs a Terminator to be his father. He learns what it means to send someone you love to their death for the right reason. Current cinema shows boys processing their feelings about becoming men. It is not the same thing.
2. Sarah Connor started as a waitress. She became a warrior through loss, fear, and the purest possible survival instinct. No empowerment speech. No one telling her she was strong. The world tried to kill her and she refused. Strength that is declared is unconvincing. Strength that is earned is unmistakable. The current version gives women the strength first and the story afterward – and wonders why nobody believes it.
3. Skynet does not hate humans. It simply optimizes – and humans are in the way. This is the most precise metaphor for institutional power without moral constraint: not even necessarily malevolent, just indifferent. The gulags were Skynet. The Cultural Revolution was Skynet. The content moderation algorithm is Skynet. Not evil. Just calculating. Same result.
4. Kyle Reese came back through time, alone, with nothing, to die for a woman he had never met and a future he would never see. Duty without contingency. He doesn’t process his feelings about sacrifice. He makes it, completely. Every civilization was built by people who did what Reese did. Every civilization that forgot this is currently confused about why it feels empty.
5. Good must kill evil. Not understand it, not rehabilitate it, not find the root causes. Stop it. Permanently. The current culture finds this intolerable – and has spent forty years replacing it with the therapeutic model, in which every villain has a backstory and the hero’s primary obligation is to feel appropriate ambivalence about using force. The Terminator felt no ambivalence. Neither did Sarah Connor. Some things cannot be reasoned with. You can only survive them.
6. Violence in the Terminator is not glorified or aestheticized. It is the raw cost of survival – ugly, exhausting, and completely unavoidable given what is coming for you. The culture that cannot accept this will eventually meet something that has no such compunction. Sometimes the enemy is not inside us. Sometimes it is a machine in a leather jacket that will not stop until you are dead.
7. There is no more cinema like this because the system that produces it cannot say good must kill evil. Colonel Ciepliński was carried to his interrogations on a stretcher with broken hands and legs, and still refused (see post below). That is what good looks like when it understands what it is up against. The Terminator understood it. We are unlearning it – one bland, ideologically correct, self-important film at a time.
A Muslim asks a Christian about the Crusades in the Middle Ages.
“Before the Crusades, Islam had already invaded the Christian lands of Syria, Jordan, Egypt, Algeria, Libya, Morocco, Spain, Portugal, Turkey. And was trying to conquer Europe.”
Another Muslim asks about the European slave trade.
“The Islamic slave trade had existed for centuries before the European slave trade, from both Africa and Europe. And it never really ended.
Your own prophet Muhammad was a slave trader.”
In America a man pointed at the horizon and said, "That's my neighbor's place."
I looked. I saw a field. Then more field. Then, very far away, where the earth curves, a house the size of a grain of rice.
"How far is that," I asked.
"Oh, close. Fifteen, twenty minutes."
Twenty minutes. To the neighbor.
In my country the neighbor is the wall. You hear the neighbor cough. You know when the neighbor's rice is done. You apologize to the neighbor for existing loudly, and the neighbor apologizes back, and this exchange of apology is the entire foundation of our civilization.
Here the neighbor is a rumor on the horizon.
And yet he called him neighbor with warmth. With loyalty. As if the man of rice-grain size were his brother.
"You close with him?" I asked.
"Bill? Oh yeah. He'd give you the shirt off his back."
He had not seen Bill in three weeks. Bill was, geographically, an expedition. And yet if this man's truck broke down at 3 a.m. in a blizzard, Bill would come. Both men knew this without a treaty. Both men had never once discussed it.
In my country, closeness is measured in the thinness of the wall between you.
Here it is measured in whether the man would cross the dark for you.
By that measure the wall means nothing. Bill, at rice-grain distance, is closer to this man than the man I shared a wall with for nine years, whose name I never learned, whose cough I knew intimately, whose face I could not describe to a court.
The man saw me thinking.
"You want to meet him?"
We drove twenty minutes. Toward the grain of rice. It grew into a house.
Bill came out before we stopped. He did not know we were coming. He had seen the dust of the truck from a long way off, the way men here read the land, and he had put coffee on.
He had put coffee on for dust.
"Neighbor," Bill said, and shook my hand.
I had known him four seconds.
He meant it more than men who had known me forty years.
I understand now. Here, a neighbor is not the person near you.
A neighbor is the person who would come.
Distance was never the measurement.
I had the wrong ruler my whole life.
Eat a mouthful of grass and you get nothing. It goes in green and comes out green.
Eat straw and you get nothing. Your gut cannot touch cellulose.
Eat acorns and you get tannins, and a very bad afternoon.
Eat bracken and you get a carcinogen.
Eat nettles, thistles, brambles, rushes and moorland heather and you get a mouth full of blood and no calories.
Eat the beet pulp, the oat husks and the spent brewer's grain and you get the waste the factory couldn't sell.
Now feed the lot of it to a cow.
She turns every one of them into steak, butter, cream, milk and a hide, on land that will never grow a vegetable, using four stomachs and a fermentation vat you do not have.
The grass she eats grew on rain and sunlight, for free, on a hillside nobody can plough.
She is the only creature on earth that can take a field of inedible fibre and hand you back the most nutrient-dense food there is.
The cow is not competing with you for food. She eats the ninety percent you cannot.
Best plant-based diet ever invented. It just has a cow in the middle doing the hard part.
Yes, the software is called LG OnScreen Control Plus. it runs silently in the background. it tracks which applications you use, when you use them, and how long. it phones home to LG servers. it cannot be uninstalled through normal means without leaving registry traces.
gamers noticed because some anti-cheat systems flagged it as suspicious software. the monitor was getting people banned from games.
now the TV side:
LG also updated its webOS terms of service. if you use the AI voice features on your LG TV, the company says you may need to inform guests in your home that conversations could be recorded.
not LG informing your guests.
you. the homeowner. legally responsible for notifying anyone who walks into your living room that the television is listening.
LG built a surveillance device. sold it to you. and made the disclosure your legal problem.
so to recap what LG shipped this year:
a monitor that installs tracking software on your PC without asking.
a TV that records conversations in your home and requires you to warn your guests.
both devices look exactly like a monitor and a TV.
neither one tells you what it actually is at the point of sale.
you found out when your game banned you.
or when you read the terms.
Credit: @GamersNexus for the discovery.
The explosive diarrhea outbreak is exposing the system:
Whole Foods has the same lettuce supplier as Walmart and Taco Bell but charges ~60% more.
The supply chains behind national “health” stores and your cheapest big box retailer are often the exact same.
Taylor Farms supplies lettuce to places like Taco Bell, Walmart, and Whole Foods simultaneously.
And they control over 57% of the entire chopped salad kit market in America, producing roughly 1 in 3 salads consumed across the US and Canada.
The story goes further than lettuce.
Sprouts Farmers Market, a chain built entirely on the image of small farm sourcing and natural food integrity, confirmed to a customer that Tyson and Perdue supply its private label chicken.
The same Tyson that processes roughly one in every five pounds of all meat sold in the United States.
The same Perdue whose supplier was documented with birds too sick to walk.
Industrial suppliers are often hiding behind the “Farmers Market” label.
The premium you pay at grocers like Whole Foods or Sprouts is not always buying you a different supply chain which is why I’ve permanently switched to buying from local independent farmers in my area on Localize.
The food system revolution is just beginning.
Let me get this straight.
For **SEVEN YEARS** Trudeau ignored every expert, every report, and every warning about clearing dead wood and properly managing our forests.
Jasper burned. Devastating loss. Homes gone. Lives upended.
And what did the Liberals do after that disaster?
They gave **BILLIONS** to Ukraine.
They gave **BILLIONS** more to foreign climate funds and global pet projects.
They did almost nothing meaningful here at home to prevent the next one.
Now Carney gets asked a simple question about wildfires and the smoke hitting the US… and what does he do?
He immediately pivots to blaming climate change and telling the Americans they need to do more.
Classic deflection.
He won’t admit the Liberals’ own failures on forest management. He won’t talk about the dead wood they left to burn. Instead he points the finger at Trump and the USA.
Same tired game they’ve played for over a decade.
Blame everyone else. Never take responsibility. Keep sending Canadian money out the door while our own country burns.
This isn’t leadership.
This is cowardice dressed up as global statesmanship.
#cdnpoli #JasperFire #Wildfires #CarneyFail #LiberalFail #CanadaFirst