MartinSJStyles 🇬🇧🇪🇺🇲🇫🇨🇮

Supporter of truth and justice. Ex-corporate *rse-kicker now doing what I can for economic development, peace and harmony.

[Sama Hoole @SamaHoole]

Five ingredients, one dish, 145g of protein and not a single carb.

The carnivore cheeseburger casserole takes five minutes of prep and thirty one in the oven. Americans call it hamburger casserole. Same tray, same cheese, different passport.

Everything that goes in:

- 1kg beef mince, 20% fat.
- 300g bacon.
- 200g mozzarella.
- 2 eggs.
- 50ml double cream.

That is the list. No tinned soup, no pasta, no breadcrumbs smuggled in to make the beef go further. Nobody has to chop an onion and pretend it was for the flavour.

Brown the bacon, take it out, chop it. Brown the mince in the same pan with most of the cheese going in as it cooks. Whisk the eggs and cream, fold it through the beef with most of the bacon, press it into a dish and lay the rest of the cheese and bacon on top. Foil on, 200C, fifteen minutes. Foil off, five more. Rest it five before you go near it.

What comes out is a tray of beef and bacon set under a cheese lid that has gone brown and slightly crisp at the corners, sitting in its own rendered fat, and it slices like a proper bake.

Then look at what you have actually eaten. 145 grams of protein. 170 grams of fat. Zero carbs. Every fat soluble vitamin, all the B12 you need for a week, heme iron your body absorbs on the first attempt, and creatine and taurine you will not get from a plant at any dose.

Complicated cooking exists because somebody needs to justify a shopping list.

Five things in a dish. Feeds you twice. What exactly is anyone else doing.

[Sama Hoole @SamaHoole]

The year is 1925. Your doctor says you look run down and writes down the name of a tonic, and you drink it the way you drink anything a doctor names, a bottle a day, feeling marvellous. It is radium in distilled water. Four hundred thousand bottles are sold on medical endorsement, and the steel magnate who got through fifteen hundred of them is buried in 1932 in a lead-lined coffin.

The year is 1948. Your baby is screaming with teething, so you do what the health visitor says and work a fingertip of powder into his gums, morning and night, for months. Then his hands and feet go raw and pink, daylight becomes unbearable, and the child who was babbling in the spring stops speaking. The powder is mercury, a fifth of the babies it does this to die, and it stays on the shelf until 1954.

The year is 1958. Your wife is seven months gone and they send her down the corridor for the routine X-ray, and she lies on the cold plate with her coat over the chair and thinks nothing of it. An Oxford epidemiologist has just shown that one abdominal X-ray in pregnancy roughly doubles the child's chance of dying of cancer before adolescence. The profession declines to believe her, her funding dries up, and the radiographers carry on for twenty years.

The year is 1983. Your son has haemophilia, and the new treatment means no more nights in hospital, just a vial from the fridge and a needle at the kitchen table before school. The vial is pooled from thousands of paid American donors, some of them prisoners. Around twelve hundred and fifty British haemophiliacs are given HIV this way, and the inquiry that finally says so out loud reports in 2024.

The year is 1989. You are on a ward after your heart attack watching the monitor throw an extra beat, and they start you on a tablet to stop it doing that, because obviously a heart that skips is a heart about to stop. Somebody finally tests the tablet against a placebo. Seven point seven per cent dead within ten months on the drug, three per cent on the dummy, and the trial is halted early.

The year is 1995. Your sister takes the high-dose chemotherapy with the bone marrow transplant because her oncologist calls it her best chance, and you sit in that corridor for four weeks while it takes her hair, her gut lining and two stone. Forty thousand American women go through it. In 1999 the trials find no survival advantage over ordinary treatment, and in 2000 the data that convinced everybody turns out to have been invented.

The year is 2016. Your daughter is epileptic and pregnant and stays on the medicine that has kept her seizure-free since she was nineteen, because nobody at any appointment has ever told her otherwise. That is the year the warning finally reaches the box. The risk had been in the literature since the seventies, and roughly twenty thousand British children were born into it while the paperwork caught up.

Now it is today.

Your doctor has new drugs, new numbers and a fresh consensus, and he can tell you exactly what the evidence shows.

So could every doctor on this list.

None of it was quackery. All of it was the standard of care, taught in the schools, printed in the guidelines, paid for by the state.

That is what a wrong answer looks like from the inside, and you are standing in one now.

[Sama Hoole @SamaHoole]

The word sugar is not on most labels. These are.

Sucrose is sugar.
Dextrose is sugar.
Maltose is sugar.
Fructose is sugar.
Glucose syrup is sugar.
Invert sugar syrup is sugar.
Fruit juice concentrate is sugar.
Barley malt extract is sugar.
Rice syrup is sugar.
Agave nectar is sugar.
Date syrup is sugar.
Honey is sugar.

And then the ones that do not even have to hide, because nobody thinks to look:

Starch is sugar.
Bread is starch.
Oats are starch.
Rice is starch.
Potato is starch.
Pasta is starch.

Starch is glucose molecules in a chain. Your saliva starts cutting that chain in your mouth, before you have swallowed. By the time it clears your small intestine it is glucose, which is the identical molecule that arrives from a spoonful of table sugar.

Wholemeal bread has a glycaemic index around 74. Table sugar sits nearer 65.

The bread hits your blood faster than the sugar does, and the bread is the one on the government plate.

Ingredients are listed by weight, heaviest first, so splitting one substance across four names keeps any of them off the top of the list. That is the trick on the back of the packet.

The trick on the front is calling half of it wholesome.

[Leslie John Perry @LeslieJohnPerr1]

@nickreeves9876

[Nick Reeves #RejoinEU #NAFO #FBPE @nickreeves9876]

In one of these photos of Farage, Nathan Gill and Cottrell, Gill has got a friendly hand on Cottrell's shoulder.

Cottrell is a convicted fraudster who is an expert in criminal money-laundering. Why was the Russian asset so friendly with the fraudster, and why did Farage keep an expert in criminal money-laundering as a close associate for the best part of a decade, and why was Cottrell with Farage and Harborne in 2020? Surely it wasn't just to savour the fine wine?

And here's an interesting snippet "On 8 July, The Times reported that Cottrell had been seen with the far-right activist Tommy Robinson at a political rally."
https://t.co/WXwoujlQ1b

[Senior Lieutenant Zandi Sussex @ZandiSussex]

Saw this brilliant post on LinkedIn and thought it was worth sharing here. 🤔

[Anonymous @YourAnonCentral]

Spain’s players refused to celebrate with Trump after the U.S. president attempted to insert himself into the middle of their victory photo. He was politely pushed aside.

[Sama Hoole @SamaHoole]

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.

[MartinSJStyles 🇬🇧🇪🇺🇲🇫🇨🇮 @MartinSJStyles]

Be careful what you wish for...

[David Davis MP @DavidDavisMP]

There is growing speculation about the enforcement of Labour's social media ban for Under-16s involving restrictions or bans on VPNs.

Make no mistake, if this is introduced, it will mean an end to online privacy, and the state will know exactly who is looking at what at all times if they so choose.

The only other states with restrictions on VPNs are China, Russia, Iran, Oman, the UAE, Turkey and India.

This is a dark direction of policy even for the Labour Party.

https://t.co/hQ9cMrPwB8

[Gina Miller @thatginamiller]

All the debacleabout Farage's earning - No MP should have a 2nd job, not on media, not promoting a product, no consulting - NOTHING - bar a very defined few such as hours to kept up qualifications, NHS etc.

All their time should be spent on their constituents' issues/problems.

[Sama Hoole @SamaHoole]

Watch the pattern. It only ever runs one way.

When butter was demonised, Unilever was ready with margarine.

When lard and tallow were demonised, Procter and Gamble was ready with Crisco.

When eggs were demonised, Kellogg's was ready with a bowl of cereal.

When red meat was demonised, Cargill was ready with soy.

When breastfeeding was demonised as backward, Nestlé was ready with formula.

When leather was demonised, BASF was ready with plastic cut to look like hide.

When wool was demonised, ExxonMobil was ready with the feedstock for polyester.

When animal fat itself was demonised, seed oil climbed from industrial waste to the most used cooking fat on earth.

Every one of them was a food or a fibre humans had thrived on for thousands of years, condemned at the exact moment a cheaper factory copy was sitting ready on the shelf.

The product came first. The science came trotting along behind it, right on cue, the instant there was a substitute to sell.

Follow the money. The advice starts to make a great deal more sense.

[RS Archer @archer_rs]

Every British person I know wants the end of Brexit and the UK to rejoin the European Union. Nothing wrong in correcting a mistake.

Fix it, the sooner, the better and put Brexit behind Britain.

[Sama Hoole @SamaHoole]

"Just grow crops on that land instead of raising cattle."

Lovely idea. Have you ever actually stood on it?

I mean the hard country, the two-thirds of British farmland that can grow nothing else. The land the postcards leave out. Go and look at what it actually is.

It is a Cumbrian fell at four hundred metres, where the soil is shallower than your hand is long and the rain comes in sideways for most of the year.

It is a Welsh hillside so steep that a tractor on it becomes a cautionary tale, retold in the pub for a generation.

It is the high Pennines, where the frost hangs on into June and the wind has strong opinions about anything that dares to grow upright.

It is Dartmoor, the Highlands, and the moor above your nearest market town: peat, bracken and acid grass, where the closest thing to an arable field is wishful thinking.

Nobody is hoarding these places. No farmer is sitting on prime wheat country out of spite, running cattle on it for a laugh. On this ground, the grazing animal is the entire harvest. There is no better crop for it to be blocking.

Sow wheat on a fell and it will sprout, shiver, take one look at the weather, and give up. Scatter quinoa across mid-Wales and the sheep will watch it fail with the calm of creatures who have seen this film before.

The people demanding crops have mistaken a relief map for a menu. They are ordering dishes the land was never able to serve. Strip the animals off these hills and you free up nothing for vegetables. You simply switch the food production off and hand the rain back to the bracken.

Grass grows there because nothing else will. The cow eats it because nothing else can. That is the entire arrangement, and it is the only one on the table.

So before you redraw British farming from a laptop, go and stand on the land you mean to convert. Wear good boots. It will not have changed its mind by the time you arrive.

[Sama Hoole @SamaHoole]

Soil is a bank account, and modern farming has quietly run it into overdraft.

Plough a field and take a crop, and you make a withdrawal. The structure breaks down, the carbon escapes, and a little more topsoil washes or blows away. Do it year after year with nothing going back, and the account empties.

The UN's Food and Agriculture Organisation reckons a football pitch of soil erodes somewhere on earth every five seconds, and that ninety percent of the planet's topsoil could be at risk by 2050. It takes a thousand years to build a few centimetres. We are spending it in decades.

Grazing animals run the account the other way. They make deposits:

- They crop the grass so the roots dig deeper and pull carbon down.
- Their hooves work seed into the ground and break the crust so rain soaks in.
- Their dung and urine feed the worms and the microbes.
- Managed well, they build measurable topsoil, year on year.

The Dust Bowl fits in one sentence. America took the bison off the plains, ploughed the grassland the herds had built over millennia, and within fifty years the soil got up and blew away.

The repair walks on four legs and runs on grass. We keep choosing the overdraft, then act surprised when the balance falls.

[Olena Rohoza @OlenaRohoza]

🧐🤔YOU WANTED A WALL, TRUMP? YOU’LL HAVE ONE.
Mexico’s president, Claudia Sheinbaum, responded to Trump’s threats:
“So you voted to build a wall.
Well then, dear Americans — even if geography isn’t your strong suit, and you see America as a country rather than a continent — you should know that on the other side of that wall stand 7 billion people.
And if the word ‘people’ doesn’t resonate with you, let’s call them ‘consumers.’
Those 7 billion consumers can switch from iPhone to Samsung or Huawei in less than two days.
They can trade Levi’s for Zara or Massimo Dutti, and within six months replace Ford and Chevrolet with Toyota, KIA, Mazda, Honda, Hyundai, Volvo, Subaru, Renault, or BMW — brands that are already more popular in many places.
They can cancel DirecTV.
And even if they choose not to, they can stop watching Hollywood films and turn instead to higher-quality productions from Latin America or Europe — with richer storytelling and better filmmaking.
Believe it or not, people can skip Disney and visit the Xcaret resort in Cancún instead — or explore destinations across Mexico, Canada, or South America.
Even in Mexico, you can find better burgers than McDonald’s — with higher nutritional value.
Have you ever seen pyramids in the United States?
Egypt, Mexico, Peru, Guatemala, and Sudan have ancient wonders — none of them in the U.S.
If they were, Trump would probably have bought and resold them by now.
We know Nike isn’t the only sneaker brand. There’s Adidas — and even Mexican brands like Panama.
We understand economics better than you think.
And we also know that when those 7 billion consumers stop buying American products, unemployment will rise, and your economy — trapped behind its own self-imposed wall — will begin to collapse to the point where you’ll be begging for help.
We didn’t want to do this.
But you wanted a wall?
Well.
You’ve got one.”
Her approval rating has reached a historic level — according to a recent poll, it stands at 85%.

[InfantryDort @infantrydort]

On Su*cide and the Beauty They Never Told You About

I’m not here to give you the usual talk about suicide. Not the guilt trip, not the shame, not the hollow slogans. I’m here to tell you the truth.

Su*cide robs you of the most powerful part of being human: the comeback.

The taste of victory after years of defeat. The light that only makes sense once you've known darkness. The version of yourself forged in hell and risen from the ash. Not in spite of your suffering, but because of it.

That’s the quiet dichotomy of existence: the great only comes through the terrible. Contrast is the cost of beauty. And it is so beautiful on the other side.

When you’re in the pit, you think you’re alone. You’re not. Some of us have been there. Curled up in shame, drowning in regret, believing it’s over.

It wasn’t.

We didn’t die. And now we carry something the world desperately needs: PROOF. Proof that you can lose everything. Your career, your honor, your brothers, even your will to live, and still return. Changed. Sharper. Wiser. With a voice that can reach into the abyss and pull someone else out.

You don’t see it now, but one day your scars will speak louder than someone else's shame. One day, your story will be the thing that convinces someone else not to pull the trigger.

Especially if you've made mistakes. Especially if it was your fault. It is still possible to come back.

And when you do? You'll realize the ones who seemed to live pampered, struggle free lives weren’t lucky. YOU WERE.

Because you trained in the abyss. And you came back with fire in your soul that nobody can easily ignore.

[Anon Opin. @anon_opin]

The fatal flaw with democracy is that the skills required to convince people to vote for you are completely unrelated to the skills required to successfully run a country.

[Anthony Scaramucci @Scaramucci]

Britain has gotten poorer over the last decade. Brexit didn't work.

Disposable income has fallen more than in other European countries and certainly more than in the US.

They cut their nose off despite their economic face, a populist, nationalist, emotional decision, and now they're stuck because you can't get the same deal with the EU you once had.

People are done with both parties and they want to throw the bums out.

Now Farage is rising. I've met him and think he’s a con.

Go read his economic proposals — some of them are hate-based, some are tribally based.

Farage's broader economic proposals are populist noise that will make the country weaker and hurt the very people supporting him.

[UAVoyager🇺🇦 @CrimeanVoyager]

“Liberated,” they said.

Imagine an entire European town wiped off the map.

This is Bakhmut.

Once home to 70,000. More than two years under the “russkiy mir.”

Today — nothing but ruins.

russia doesn’t liberate cities. It erases them. Don’t pretend you don’t understand this.

[MartinSJStyles 🇬🇧🇪🇺🇲🇫🇨🇮 @MartinSJStyles]

This is so so sad.

[Sama Hoole @SamaHoole]

A pasture in the Lincolnshire Wolds has carried cattle for a thousand years.

It's worked by the Crawford family. Has been since the reign of George IV. Two hundred years of calving in the small hours, of bringing the herd in before storms, of two hundred years of knowing that the Lincoln Reds prefer the south-facing slopes in spring and the sheltered hollow when the wind comes off the North Sea in October.

In 2025, a solar developer offered them £1,250 an acre per year, index-linked, on a forty-year lease. The suckler herd was running at a loss before subsidy. With subsidy, the margin was thin enough that one bad winter or one TB reactor wiped it out.

The family is thinking about it.

You can't blame them. The maths is not subtle. The maths is a father and a son walking the herd at first light, neither of them speaking, both of them knowing that the figure on the developer's letter is more than the farm has cleared in a decade.

If they sign, the panels go up in 2027.

The herd will be dispersed at Louth, which is now the last remaining livestock market in Lincolnshire. Two hundred head of one of the oldest beef breeds in Britain, descended from cattle the Norse settlers brought across the North Sea, finished on grass without a grain of cereal, broken up and sold to whoever turns up with a trailer. Fewer than five hundred original-population Lincoln Reds remain in the world. The Crawford herd was one of the larger ones.

The barn becomes a substation. The cattle grid gets lifted. The hedge the great-grandfather planted in 1958 gets pulled out to widen the access track for the construction lorries.

The Crawfords did not choose this. The economics were engineered, in Westminster, over fifteen years, to make this the only sensible option.

The panels are not the villain. The panels are the symptom.

The villain is a country that decided British beef mattered less than electricity it could have generated from the roof of the Amazon warehouse outside Grantham. The shelf in the supermarket where the Lincoln Red used to sit will be filled, quietly, by Irish beef, then Australian, then Brazilian, and nobody will tell the shopper why the country stopped feeding itself.

The roof of the warehouse is still empty.

The herd is gone.