@ProjectLincoln Help Protect Our Democracy
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* Prevent disinformation from affecting fact-based debate
* Shape the democracy of tomorrow
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Yes, as I’ve said from the very beginning, Platner is a scumbag, and the Nazi tattoo should’ve been the end of him politically.
But this is also true: If Platner were a Republican, and week after week women came forward with evidence of rape or sexual abuse, he’d lie about each woman, he’d attack the media & scream “fake news,” his fellow Republican colleagues would stand by him, and Republican voters would still enthusiastically vote for him.
🔴 MAJOR BREAKING: Active-duty Air Force major Jason Watson, who was detained on the Capitol steps Wednesday after calling for Trump’s impeachment, will be released, and no case will be filed.
https://t.co/9OfN3FC9OS
I hope everyone had a great 4th of July. I know @realDonaldTrump and family did.
250 years ago we declared independence from a king who ran the colonies as a family business. In just 18 months the Trumps have made King George look like an amateur.
A $620 million Pentagon loan, the largest in the program’s history, to a company Don Jr.’s firm bought into three months before.
An Air Force drone contract to a startup the princelings took public through a golf course company they own a piece of.
The Army’s largest drone motor order ever, to a company where Don Jr. sits on the board and holds millions in stock.
A $24 million Pentagon robotics contract to the company that employs Eric as Chief Strategy Advisor.
A stake in the largest undeveloped tungsten deposit on earth, in Kazakhstan, backed by $1.6 billion in US government support.
Jared’s fund seeded with $2 billion from the Saudi crown prince, now $6.2 billion, 99% of it foreign money from Gulf governments. Over $110 million in fees collected from the Saudis alone. He negotiates American foreign policy with the governments that pay him.
$2.3 billion from crypto ventures their father regulates. More than a million people bought in and lost $2.3 billion. The money didn’t grow. It simply moved from the subjects pockets to the crown’s coffers.
And the next one is already drafted. A proposed ATF rule that will allow guns to be shipped straight to your front door. The government’s own estimate is 3.3 million home gun deliveries a year. Don Jr. sits on the board of the online gun megastore built to cash in. He holds 300,000 shares.
And that’s only the fraction they’ve allowed us to see. Not one subpoena served. Not one search executed. Why hide anything when you own the investigators?
Me? They searched a laptop for six years. Federal prosecutors. Grand juries. Subpoena power. Congressional hearings. They found nothing. I made about $200k a year selling paintings when my Dad was President, and they made my paintings part of an impeachment inquiry.
For six years they’ve asked Where’s Hunter? What about the laptop?
Wrong questions. The right one is 250 years old. Does America belong to a family?
They’ve given their answer. Long live the King.
🚨BREAKING: Federal court REJECTS Department of Justice lawsuit to gain access to Pennsylvania voter records. Another victory for Elias Law Group and its clients. Another defeat for DOJ.
DOJ is now 0-10. 👀
ELG remains undefeated! 🗳️⚖️💪
https://t.co/XFNCRLOfQ3
This week someone targeted my family for harm with a false report. We’re physically OK, but that doesn’t mean we weren’t harmed. I am beyond furious.
Whatever your politics, this is awful, wrong, and can never become normal. https://t.co/72wxaVLzVT
"Pulte has begun to follow in the footsteps of Hegseth at the Pentagon, Blanche at Justice, and Patel at the FBI. Looking at their purges along with the mass hirings at ICE, one sees that we’re entering a period of maximum authoritarian threat."
https://t.co/p4dd3TkuEG
He is lying about vandalism in the reflecting pool
He is lying about the Italian PM wanting a selfie
He is the President of the United States and he lies about the dumbest possible things.
How are you Trump supporters not exhausted by this all the time?
The Lessons I Learned from My Dad
I am not the man my father is.
I am trying. Some days closer. Some days farther.
He never sat me down and explained these lessons. He lived them. I’m still learning them.
Show up.
The kitchen table. The hospital room. The funeral. The picket line. The call from the son who won’t answer.
Show up.
Most days that’s the whole job.
My whole life I watched him do it. Not for cameras. Not for headlines. Not because there was something in it for him. He showed up because someone needed him.
I learned that grief doesn’t make you special.
My father buried a wife and daughter. He buried a son. Yet he never treated grief as a claim on other people’s sympathy. Instead, it made him notice theirs.
A mother who lost a child. A father sitting beside a hospital bed. A kid scared about what comes next. A son who lost his mother, his sister, his brother.
He always noticed.
I learned that power is not the point.
The people who chase power eventually confuse the office with themselves.
My father never did.
Whether he was a county councilman, a senator, vice president, or president, he was the same man.
The title changed.
He didn’t.
I learned that family comes first.
The train from Wilmington wasn’t symbolism.
It was every night.
He read to us. Showed up to games. Sat through hospital rooms. Waited up for children who were lost.
And when the day came that the country and the family could not both have him at full strength, he chose family. He relinquished the last chapter of how he wanted to be remembered. And he never complained about it.
Most of all, I learned that love is not soft.
Love is discipline.
Love is showing up at one in the morning when nobody is watching.
Love is answering the phone.
Love is staying.
Love is getting back up after life knocks you down and doing it all again tomorrow.
That love saved my life.
I’ve failed at many of these lessons, sometimes in very public ways.
He loved me anyway.
That’s the last lesson.
I am not trying to become my father.
I am trying to carry what he gave me.
And if I can do that, even imperfectly, that will be enough.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I love you.
They shot a one-year-old over diapers.
Let that sit for a second. Let it curdle in your gut. Kohen Kartier Wiley, one year old, dead because police opened fire on a car over a so called shoplifting incident. The mother, they said, might have taken diapers. Then Fox 13 Memphis showed the video. She wasn't driving toward the officers. She was trying to signal there was a baby in the car. Some of the officers later admitted they saw the child.
But they fired anyway.
After they killed him, after they tore that family apart, they claimed she was driving at them. Standard procedure now, right? We set the precedent with Renee Good. Lie, then hide behind the lie. The shooter... the murderer... is on paid administrative leave. A vacation funded by the blood of an infant. And the mother? No charges. Not a one. She didn't steal a damn thing.
First, even if she had. Even if she was desperate, holding her baby, taking diapers to keep him clean. You see that, you see a mother and child, and your first thought is to unload your weapon? If I see someone stealing diapers, no, I didn't. Not a thing. But that's not the world we built. We built a world where the violence is always justified, always excused, by the police and their apologists. The same overuse of force, the same tear gas they used on protesters who dared to mourn a one-year-old.
It's Mississippi. Color me surprised.
The racism, the hatred, it ferments from the top. It's in the water supply of our leadership, and it trickles down into the barrels of police guns. A black mother, a black child, a receipt, none of it matters when the script calls for a threat.
And here's where the acid really burns. You'll see the posts. The sanctity of life proclamations. The Facebook groups and Instagram slides quoting Matthew 18:6 with solemn piety. "But whoever causes the downfall of one of these little ones..." They'll post it about the unborn, about the hypothetical. They'll wrap themselves in the verse like a shield. But when a real, breathing, one-year-old boy is killed by the state, when his name is Kohen and his skin is brown, the silence is deafening. Or worse, like in this case... the justification begins.
They were never pro-life. They were pro-birth and pro-control. Pro-control of women, pro-control of bodies, pro-control of who gets to be seen as human. Watch them now. Watch the so-called Christians, the fake faithful, twist themselves into knots to explain why this murder is acceptable. Because the mother was black. Because the baby was black. Because the system they uphold needs black blood to water its roots.
"But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea."
They love that verse when it's about a clinic. They love it when it's abstract, when it's a political slogan. But when the millstone is a badge, when the sea is a Mississippi street soaked in tear gas and a mother's screams, they look away. They always look away.
The same posts that preach sanctity for the unborn will scroll right past Kohen's story. They'll share another graphic about abortion, another call to prayer, while a real child lies dead and the men who killed him are on paid leave. The hypocrisy isn't just ugly. It's lethal. It's the oxygen that lets this keep happening.
We're not surprised. We can't afford to be surprised anymore. We have to be angry. We have to be the ones who won't look away, who won't let the verse be weaponized only when it's convenient. The little ones are right here. They're in the cars, in the arms of their mothers, and we're drowning them in the depth of our indifference.
Kohen Kartier Wiley should be alive. He should be learning to walk, to say words, to smear food on his face. Instead, we have a receipt, a video, and a hole in the world where a baby used to be.
And a millstone, waiting for every one of us who lets this stand.