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Sondergeist
@Sondergeist1
Be meek as doves and cunning as serpents
Joined February 2021
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184 Followers
2.7K Posts
@SamaHoole I am trying this next week! Need to get the cream. Sounds delicious.
And yet there hasn’t been any accountability for the failures of Fauci and his ilk.
REVEALED: Here Are the Mainstream Journalists on China’s Payroll 🚨
I exclusively uncovered the identities of prominent U.S. journalists flown to China by a CCP-linked influence operation seeking “favorable coverage” and “positive messages” about Beijing. 🧵
Elon Musk was asked by a close friend why he bought Twitter. Not the public answer about free speech. The real answer. The friend expected strategy. What Elon said was simpler and stranger than anyone anticipated.
He said he bought it because it was broken and he couldn't stop thinking about how to fix it. Not as a business opportunity. As a compulsion. He said the platform was so obviously dysfunctional that his brain treated it the same way it treats a rocket that's not flying right. A problem that demanded intervention.
He said he knew the acquisition would lose money. He said he knew the media would attack him. He said he knew his reputation would suffer. He ran the numbers and every rational model said don't buy it. He bought it anyway.
The friend asked if that was irrational. Elon said yes. Then he said something the friend has repeated to multiple people since. He said "every important thing I've done has been irrational. SpaceX was irrational. Tesla was irrational. Neuralink is irrational. If I only did rational things I'd still be a programmer in Silicon Valley with a nice house and no impact."
He said the rational move is always to optimize for personal comfort. The irrational move is to sacrifice comfort for impact. And impact is the only thing he values.
$44 billion for a broken social media platform looks insane from the outside. From inside the mind of a man who physically cannot ignore a broken system, it looks inevitable.
The gap between rational and visionary is always the same. Rational calculates the cost. Visionary calculates the cost of not doing it. The answer is different depending on which calculator you use.
Who to follow
🔥 They Edited His Confession, Hid the Full Tape, Convicted Him Anyway. Then the “Bribers” Walked Free. Now a Four-Star Admiral Rots in Prison While the Corrupt DOJ Unit That Did It Got Shut Down.
America just locked up the former Vice Chief of Naval Operations — the second-highest uniformed officer in the Navy, commander of all forces across Europe, Africa, and Russia — for six years on bribery charges.
The people who supposedly paid the bribe? A federal jury acquitted them. Not a hung jury. Full acquittal. On all counts.
Let that marinate.
Admiral Robert P. Burke, four stars. 40+ years of service. Decorated beyond what most Americans can comprehend. Convicted May 2025. Sentenced to 72 months in federal prison.
The evidence the government used to convict him? Three cherry-picked snippets. Out of a TWO-HOUR interview Burke voluntarily gave investigators. His attorney fought to play the full tape. The judge said no. The jury heard only what prosecutors wanted them to hear.
His own lawyer described the trial as “the exact opposite” of normal: the prosecution was the one objecting to keep evidence out. They didn’t want the jury to see the full context. Because the full context, according to Parlatore, shows there was no bribe.
Meanwhile, the two Next Jump CEOs — Kim and Messenger — got their full defense. First trial: hung jury. Second trial: not guilty on everything. The edited confession that convicted Burke? Wasn’t even played at their trial. And they still walked.
You cannot logically “accept” a bribe that nobody “paid.” The law allows inconsistent verdicts. Reality doesn’t.
Here’s the part that should make every American’s blood boil:
The DOJ’s Public Integrity Section brought the case. The Trump administration has since dismantled that unit. Why? Because it was corrupt. Parlatore’s words, not mine: “a corrupt unit within DOJ that the president got rid of because of the abuses.”
This is the same unit that destroyed Ted Stevens. Same playbook. Hide exculpatory evidence. Edit statements. Convict first, let appeals sort out the wreckage later.
Then, weeks before the co-defendants’ second trial, discovery material finally surfaced — staff interviews that, per Parlatore, “completely contradicted what the government’s theory was at trial.” Evidence that should have been turned over before Burke’s trial. Wasn’t.
Burke’s appeal is pending in the D.C. Circuit. The judges grilled prosecutors hard in April. One judge couldn’t understand why 45 minutes were cut from Burke’s interview. Parlatore walked out thinking a reversal is coming.
But here’s the real question:
Why does a man sit in prison for “accepting a bribe” when a jury has acquitted the supposed bribe-payers of their peers?
Why did the government get to curate what evidence the jury heard?
And what does it say about our justice system that the unit responsible for this conviction no longer exists because it was too corrupt to keep?
President Trump has the power to end this with a stroke of a pen. A pardon isn’t just mercy here — it’s correction of an institutional failure.
Admiral Burke gave his life to this country. The country owes him better than a conviction built on edited tape and a prosecution unit that’s since been put in the trash where it belongs.
Share this. These stories disappear when nobody talks about them. 🇺🇸
@MrKO999999 @ScottPresler Oh & you forgot to mention: when are we prosecuting those who enabled & actively participated in fraudulent elections? They already, at the time, broke existing election laws. Why are we still using machines to count votes?
I'm old enough to remember when everybody was MAGA.
Bill Clinton 1993: "We have to end welfare as a way of life and make it a path to independence and dignity."
Barack Obama 2005: "We simply cannot allow people to pour into the United States undetected undocumented unchecked and go around our communities without our knowledge of them."
Hillary Clinton 2008: "If they've committed a crime deport them. No questions asked. They're gone."
Chuck Schumer 2009: "Illegal immigration is wrong plain and simple."
Joe Biden 2006: "I voted for a fence. I voted for 700 miles of fence."
Harry Reid 1993: "No sane country would grant citizenship to children of illegal immigrants."
Bernie Sanders 2015: "Open borders is a Koch brothers proposal that would make everybody in America poorer."
The Secure Fence Act of 2006 had yes votes from Obama, Hillary, Schumer and Biden.
Don't you dare allow them to gaslight you into thinking your values are racist and radical. These used to be mainstream Democrat positions.
They only changed their minds once their party decided to use illegals to steal power from the American people.
Elon Musk was called a racist on camera by the editor-in-chief of The Economist.
An accusation that serious should have come with proof. Hers came from no one.
Zanny Minton Beddoes: “People say that you’re a racist.”
People say.
No evidence. No incident. No source. No name.
“People say” removes the journalist’s fingerprints from the accusation. Nothing to verify. No one to hold accountable.
A label laundered through a question so it can never be traced back to a fact.
Musk: “My partner is half Indian. I have four children with her. One of them was named after a famous Indian physicist. If you look at the people employed at my companies, we have senior executives of all races.”
The accusation cost nothing to make. The defense required a man to put his own family on the table.
Then she moved on. No pause. Not one word of his answer made it into the next question.
Beddoes: “Are you anti-Muslim?”
The first accusation was still on the ground. The next was already in the air.
Musk: “I’m against people coming to a country with antithetical views. I’m against rape and murder. I’m against the imposition of rules and laws that are contrary to what we’ve come to accept in the West.”
He answered with positions no functioning society disputes. The only way to make them sound like bigotry was to attach a religion to the people he was describing.
That isn’t journalism. It’s a trap where the question does the accusing and the answer does the rest.
Musk: “I think it’s a crying shame that the traditional media, like you, don’t recognize this.”
To her face. To the editor-in-chief of one of the most powerful publications on Earth.
When a man has to prove he isn’t a racist by naming his own children, then defend himself for opposing rape and murder, the labels have stopped describing the world. They’ve started building one.
The accusation was never meant to be true. It was meant to be answered.
Because the moment you’re defending yourself against a label, the label has already done its work. And when no answer can acquit you, you were never being accused. You were being sentenced.
The presumption of innocence was never a description of how people think. It was a wall built against it. Four centuries putting it up. A decade taking it down.
Musk didn’t accept the frame. He answered with facts and let the accusations collapse on contact, then told the person holding the microphone that she was the problem.
The weapon only works on people who flinch. He didn’t.
And the accusation that came from no one finally had a name on it. Hers.
It takes a thousand years to build three centimetres of topsoil. We lose a football pitch of it every five seconds.
A third of the world's farmable soil is already dead. The UN warned that if the stripping goes on, we have sixty harvests left.
Iowa, the richest ground in America, has lost close to half its topsoil since 1850. Ploughed loose and sent down the Mississippi.
Warming gets the summits and the placards. The soil that grows ninety-five percent of your food is washing away right now, and that is the one that starves you.
Here is the part that stays off the stage.
The deepest, blackest, most fertile ground on earth, the American prairie, the Russian steppe, the Ukrainian black earth that feeds the world, was built by one thing.
Vast herds of grazing ruminants. Trampling, dunging, moving on. Tens of millions of bison, roots fifteen feet deep, packing carbon into the ground for ten thousand years.
The plough switched that off. The cow, moved like the wild herd, switches it back on. Graze it right and the carbon sinks, the soil thickens, the rain soaks in instead of tearing the field away.
The best machine ever built for saving the soil is the animal they want off your plate.
A tractor cannot build soil. Fertiliser cannot build soil. Only the herd ever has.
But healing the world's dirt means more cattle on grass, not fewer.
So you will hear about the cow's burp right up until the last of the topsoil reaches the sea.
Nelson brayed on Wednesday, which he has done twice in his life, and both previous times it was about hay.
This was not about hay.
You have to understand Nelson to understand the size of it. He is a small grey donkey who came free with a horse and has spent every day since assessing the world and finding almost none of it worth a reaction. A pheasant out of the hedge: beneath comment. A carrier bag on the wind: management's problem. The farrier, the vet, Martin the postman at the gate every single morning: all filed, long ago, under fine. Nelson does not spend adrenaline. He has a lifetime's supply precisely because he has never once dipped into it for anything that did not concern the hay.
Hector is the one who comes apart. Seventeen years a Cavalry Black, seventeen hands of trained composure, and still, in a quiet field, undone by small things with no rules to them. And undone completely, every time, by the one thing that has never had a rule: Nelson leaving the field.
On Wednesday it was the other way round.
Hector went down in the morning and did not get up cleanly. Nothing dramatic to look at, a big old horse struggling on wet ground to fold his legs back under him, the way big old horses sometimes do, more indignity than danger. But he was down, and he was working at it, and he was not managing it, and the field was suddenly a place where the large warm reliable thing was not upright.
Nelson stood over him.
Then Nelson, who assesses everything and hurries for nothing and does not raise the alarm because in his considered view nothing is ever worth waking a tired horse for, raised the alarm. The full cracked bugle of it, flung down the lane, on and on, a donkey who does not do this doing this, until the farmer came out of the house at a run, because a silent donkey suddenly loud means something is wrong in a way a noisy one never could.
The farmer got Hector up. It was fine. It was, in the end, a big horse and a bad patch of ground and a bruised dignity, nothing more.
Nelson stopped the moment Hector was on his feet.
He has not mentioned it since. He went back to the hay. He has assessed the incident and, by every sign available, filed it under dealt with.
But he broke his own rule for it. In a whole life of spending no adrenaline on anything, he spent all of it at once, on the one thing he has never admitted to caring about.
Hector is grazing this morning, upright, enormous, fine.
Nelson is beside him, in the dry corner, first at the hay, saying nothing.
He would tell you it was about the hay.
Someone explain this to me slowly, because I'm clearly the idiot here.
We plant a Mediterranean nut in a Californian desert. It doesn't rain there, so we drain a ten-thousand-year-old aquifer until the ground itself sinks a foot a year and whole towns get shorter. The trees can't fight off fungus, so we spray the lot. They can't pollinate themselves, so every February we truck thirty billion bees across a continent and let a fair share of them die in the crush. Then we chill the harvest and sail it six thousand miles to Britain, where it rains constantly and always has, to be blitzed with water and gums and sold to you at £2.40 a carton with a green leaf on the side.
That is the environmentally friendly option.
Twelve miles down the road there's a bloke with cattle in a field. Rain falls on the hill. Grass drinks it. Cow eats grass. Nothing pumped, sprayed, chilled or shipped. No bees died. Her entire supply chain is weather.
That is the planetary emergency.
And it'll be explained to you by someone holding a carton of desert water, wearing a fleece made of crude oil.
Asking for the cow. She's been very patient about it.
Wool is one of the most extraordinary materials on earth and we swapped it for melted bottles.
Consider what it actually is. It grows. On an animal. By itself. The sheep stands on a hill eating grass nobody else can use, and out of the grass and the rain it manufactures, continuously, for free, a fibre so good that we spent most of human history unable to improve on it. You shear it off. It doesn't hurt her. She grows more. You could not design a more generous arrangement if you sat in a room for a year: a self-replenishing, self-powered coat that renews every summer and asks for nothing but a haircut.
And look at what it does. It's warm when it's wet, which almost nothing else on earth manages. It breathes. It wicks the damp off you and holds heat anyway. It's naturally flame-retardant, so it smoulders and stops rather than melting onto your skin. It fights off smell for days. It lasts decades, gets handed down, and when it finally dies you can put it in the ground and it feeds the soil, because it came out of a field and it's content to go back to one.
That's the thing we decided wasn't good enough.
So here's the replacement. We take crude oil, out of the ground, and we crack it in a chemical plant, and we spin it into plastic thread, and we call it fleece, which is a theft of the word, because there's no fleece in it and never was a sheep near it. Polyester. Acrylic. A jumper made of petrol.
And it does the opposite of everything wool does. It's cold and clammy the second you sweat. It stinks after one wear, because the bacteria love it. If it gets near a flame it melts, onto you, which is its own special horror. And every single time you wash it, it sheds thousands of shreds of plastic too small to see, which go down the drain, into the river, into the fish, into the water, into you, forever, because unlike the sheep's coat this one does not go back into the ground. Nothing eats it. Nothing breaks it down. It just becomes the world's problem for the next four hundred years.
We took a material an animal grows out of grass, that keeps you warm wet, saves your skin from fire, and returns to the earth when it's done, and we replaced it with a garment made of oil that freezes you, poisons the water, and outlives your grandchildren.
And they'll tell you the wool's the ethical concern. The wool. Because the sheep had a haircut.
Wear the wool. Let her keep growing it.
RFK Jr. says HHS loses $100,000,000,000 a year to theft.
He found some thieves would bribe poor people with flat screen TVs to get their patient numbers and enroll them in hospice.
Then they would proceed to bill Medicaid "$6,000 a month FOREVER."
RFK JR: "We shut down 800 hospices. You know what a hospice is? Where you're going to die. Typically, if you go to a hospice, you leave within 18 days because your dying is terminal."
"We started looking at these hospices in Los Angeles, and the people never died. Two or three years later they were there, and we're paying $6,000 a month."
"We found a hotel room with 29 hospices in it. I mean a hotel, every room was a hospice, and none of them had any patients. They were just addresses."
"The guys who own them, they were Estonians and Armenians and people from Eastern Europe who were getting the patient numbers. They were stealing them from doctors' offices."
"They were also going into poor neighborhoods in Los Angeles and they'd say to the people, 'We'll give you this $375 flat-screen TV. You give us your patient number and we're going to enroll you in this hospice. You don't ever have to go. We're just going to enroll you,' and then we'll charge Medicaid $6,000 a month forever. And the guy never dies, of course, because he was never sick."
"We didn't get a single call from a congressman or from a business owner saying, 'Oh, you shut down my hospice and all these patients are on the street.' None of them, because they were all crooked and they knew they were crooked."
Jo Nagai was raising swallowtail butterflies at his home in Kobe, Japan, when he noticed something odd. The ones he had looked after as caterpillars seemed to recognize him. Wild butterflies fled. His didn't.
He was in second grade. He wrote a four-page letter to Dr. Martha Weiss, an entomologist at Georgetown University who had studied whether moths could retain memories through metamorphosis. He asked if she could help him design a version of her experiment for butterflies.
She said yes.
Using a muscle therapy device, Jo trained caterpillars to associate the scent of lavender with a mild vibration. When the caterpillars became butterflies, 70 per cent of them still avoided the lavender. Their brains had been completely rebuilt during metamorphosis. The memory survived anyway.
Then he bred them.
The offspring, which had never been trained, also avoided lavender. So did their grandchildren. Without ever experiencing the vibration, two generations of butterflies inherited an aversion to a scent their grandmother had been taught to fear.
Jo documented it all in a 33-page research paper and presented his findings at the International Congress of Entomology in Kobe in 2024. He was 10.
A second grader wrote a letter to a Georgetown professor, and together they found evidence that butterflies can pass memories down through generations.
-Wilderness Whisper
Your grandparents spent all day outside.
Farmers. Builders. Beach holidays. Kids disappearing after breakfast and coming home at sunset.
Now people burn in 30 minutes.
The sun didn't change.
You did.
Your skin is built from the fats you eat.
Modern diets flooded it with unstable polyunsaturated fats from industrial seed oils.
UV light oxidises those fats, producing inflammatory by-products and oxidative damage.
Melanoma rates in America:
1950: around 1 in 500
2020: around 1 in 50
During that same period, seed oil consumption exploded.
The sun hasn't become more dangerous.
Maybe we've become less resilient to it.
After 6 to 12 months without seed oils, most of your skin cells have been replaced.
Those new cells contain far less stored linoleic acid.
Thousands of people report tanning more easily, burning less, and spending far longer in the sun than they could before.
Maybe the answer isn't just what you put on your skin.
Maybe it's what you built your skin from.
There is a ceiling on how much protein a human can eat, and past it the food starts to kill you.
It sits around 35 percent of your calories. Not a preference. A hard limit, set by the liver.
Protein is nitrogen-rich, and burning it for fuel leaves you with ammonia, which is poisonous. The liver converts that ammonia to urea and ships it out through the kidneys. That machinery has a maximum throughput. Flood it and the ammonia backs up faster than you can clear it.
So a man can sit down to unlimited lean meat, eat until his belly is tight, and starve anyway. He weakens, gets a splitting head and the runs, and inside a couple of weeks in the cold he is dead, with meat still sitting in the pot.
The fix is never more protein. It is fat. Fat burns clean: no nitrogen, no urea, no ceiling. Add enough of it and the same lean meat that was poisoning the man keeps him alive indefinitely.
This is why every serious meat-eating people on Earth prized the fat over the muscle. Marrow, back fat, the fatty organs, tallow rendered and stored for winter. The lean was the part you could afford to hand to the dogs.
Lean protein is a modern health slogan. To the people who actually lived on animals, it described a slow way to die.
I want to elect Republicans.
I want to defeat democrats.
However, I will tell you this: If our Republican Senate majority does NOT pass the SAVE America Act,
I’m going scorched earth on incumbent Senators up for re-election in 2028 — peacefully.
You will see me come to Alaska, Arkansas, Idaho, Indiana, North Dakota, Oklahoma, & Louisiana.
Give us election integrity or you’ll see repeats of what we did this year in Louisiana & Texas.
@SamaHoole This brought tears to my eyes. There is nothing on the planet better than true love.
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