De Niro: I hate to say it, but loving our country is starting to sound like an abused spouse saying they love their abuser.
I can’t love a country that starts stupid and inhumane wars, killing thousands of innocents and indirectly causing the deaths and suffering of millions more.
I can’t love a country that takes healthcare away from millions of people and uses that money to enrich their pals in the Trump-Epstein class.
I can’t love a country that sends out masked militias to shoot citizens in the streets, torture our neighbors, and separate families.
I can’t love a country that’s led by a racist, misogynist, xenophobic tyrant.
And let me just say it: I can’t love a country that’s led by Donald Trump and his sycophant Congress.
A trillionair, yet his name does not appear on a single school, university, library, museum wing, hospital, stadium, arena, airport, or endowed chairs. What a colossal waste of a human lifetime.
USA. A breakfast counter. The waitress recommended the biscuits and gravy, and when the plate arrived, I thought something had gone wrong in the kitchen.
I say this with shame. The dish looked like a construction site after rain. Pale mounds. Gray ladle-fall. Speckles I could not identify.
In my land, the eye eats first. A meal is arranged like a garden. This meal was arranged like weather.
"Is it… finished?" I asked, carefully.
"Honey, that's what it looks like."
The man beside me was already eating his. He did not look up. "Just try it."
I am a man who has charged hillsides at dawn. I raised the fork. I tried it.
I must now formally apologize to the biscuits, the gravy, the waitress, the kitchen, and the entire breakfast tradition of the American South.
It was magnificent. Warm. Peppered. The biscuit drank the gravy the way a field drinks rain — THAT is why it is shaped like that, you fool — and every mound I had insulted was a soft fold of comfort that my homeland, in eight hundred years, never once thought to invent.
"Well?" the waitress asked.
"I judged it," I confessed. "By its appearance. I am ashamed."
"Everybody does, hon."
Everybody does. A national dish that forgives you for doubting it. It expects the doubt. It waits for you on the other side of it.
Do not judge the gravy by its face. Judge yourself, for hesitating.
I order it every Saturday now. I no longer see the construction site. I see only the garden.
It was a garden the whole time. The eye must be trained.
USA. A Mexican restaurant. We had not yet ordered anything, and the food was already arriving.
Chips. Salsa. Unrequested. Free.
I stopped the waiter. "We have not earned these."
"They just come with the table, man."
They come with the TABLE. In my land, hospitality is a debt. Every gift creates an obligation, weighed carefully, returned in the proper season with interest of feeling. Here, the gift arrives before you have even proven you can pay for dinner.
This is not an appetizer. This is a declaration: we trust you. Eat.
I ate with the gravity the moment deserved. And then — I must report this calmly — the basket emptied, and a new one appeared.
"Did we…?"
"Refill," the waiter said. "It's bottomless."
Bottomless. They have wells of salsa. The supply lines of this nation are beyond anything my ancestors imagined.
My friend warned me. "Don't fill up on chips, dude."
Too late. I had accepted three baskets. Honor demanded each one be finished — an unfinished gift is an insult. By the time my actual food arrived, I was a ruined man.
I was not hungry. I was not comfortable. I had been defeated by a courtesy.
Generosity that arrives before the request cannot be repaid. It can only be survived.
I know the rule now. I have made my peace with the basket. One basket. Two at the most.
Who am I deceiving. There is no number of baskets I would refuse. The trust of a nation is in that salsa, and I intend to honor all of it.
Elon Musk held up a chainsaw, fed USAID into the wood chipper, and at least 600,00 people have already died as a result - two-thirds of them children.
History's first trillionaire.
DO NOT STOP TALKING ABOUT EPSTEIN
DO NOT STOP TALKING ABOUT EPSTEIN
DO NOT STOP TALKING ABOUT EPSTEIN
DO NOT STOP TALKING ABOUT EPSTEIN
DO NOT STOP TALKING ABOUT EPSTEIN
DO NOT STOP TALKING ABOUT EPSTEIN
DO NOT BE DISTRACTED.
We took Erin Brockovich's map of every data center in America. Then we laid the nation's aquifers on top of it.
We noticed they're not building data centers where the land is cheap. They're building them where the water is.
Farmers near these facilities say their livestock have stopped falling pregnant. Residents say the humming never stops.
And the projects arrive under NDAs, so most towns don't know until the ground is already broken.
The question isn’t where they’re building anymore. It’s why they’re building where they’re building. Tonight, we think we can answer that question.
We’ve been covering the data center issue in great detail on this broadcast, and for good reason. It’s a serious problem in America and worldwide, and it’s one that is uniting people from all sides of the political aisle because, guess what, whether you are a conservative or a liberal, you have human rights that enable you to have access to basic survival needs like water, which was given to us by God, not by the state or Big Tech, by the way.
Erin Brockovich joined the data center fight recently. She launched a site including a map that shows data centers either completed, under construction, planned, or community reported, likely due to all those pesky NDAs in place stopping us from knowing they’re coming to our area. But the public isn’t stupid.
So Maria thought she’d do something a little bit different. She created a series of maps using Erin Brockovich’s data center data, then superimposed aquifer maps onto those maps, then superimposed smart city locations onto those maps. What Maria found was pretty mind-blowing and, she says, lends credence to her theory that those in charge are purposely making rural areas unlivable for the purpose of pushing people into smart cities, where they will be under constant surveillance and on a short leash.
After the last republic of Florence fell to the Medici in 1530, Michelangelo went into hiding for 3 months.
Nobody knew where he had dissapeared to until a 6.5 feet / 2 meter wide hiding hole was discovered unde the Medici mausoleum in 1975.
The walls were full of sketches drawn by Michelangelo.
$500 per vote.
That’s what the Israeli lobby spent to beat me,
and they still couldn’t do it with factual ads, or even fake ads based on policy.
They ran with personal lies and AI videos to convince elderly voters I was sleeping with Ilhan Omar and AOC at the same time.
As a reminder, almost 11 years ago, Jeffrey Epstein took this picture of the world’s first trillionaire.
We need a revolution against the treachery of elites.