Happily Married. ❤️God ❤️Family. Three generations of U.S. Marines.
"Resentment is like drinking poison, and then hoping it will kill your enemies"
N. Mandela
@Proffessorq0n@theManOf_God Do you you understand the 'why'?
My sin (and yours) separates us from a holy God.
The penalty for our is death (it's serious business).
The point of Christ's sacrifice is that He paid the penalty - in our place - as a GIFT to us.
We simply need to accept his gift - by faith.
Question for WOMEN who voted for Trump in at least one election and/or think it's likely that you'll vote for the Republican candidate in 2028:
What are the most significant issues for you that made/make you prefer the right?
No vote shaming in replies, please consider RTing.
USA. A potluck. Everyone brings one dish. I have never been so out of my depth in my life.
I was invited to a gathering. "Just bring a dish to share," they said. Simple words. I did not sleep for three days.
Because I understood instantly what this was. A summit. Every guest, a lord of their own house, arriving bearing tribute. And tribute is judged. Tribute is ranked. To bring the wrong dish to the wrong table is to fall in standing before your peers, possibly forever.
So I prepared. I made my finest dish. I carried it to the door with two hands and a straight back, braced for the weighing of my worth.
The first lord arrived with a bowl of orange powder noodles. Macaroni and cheese. The crowd roared. He set it down at the center of the table. The CENTER. I noted this. The center is the seat of power.
The second lord brought a tower of small brown meat orbs in red sauce. "Meatballs," he announced, like a man laying down a sword. They were placed beside the macaroni. A strong showing. An alliance, perhaps.
I studied the table like a battlefield map. Potato salad: defensive, reliable, old money. A vegetable tray, untouched, clearly a hostage offering no one expected to win. And then a woman walked in, raised a flat box overhead, and the entire room turned and CHEERED.
Pizza. She had brought pizza. Store-bought. Still in the box.
I was stunned. She had not even cooked it. And yet the people rejoiced as if a king had entered. I revised my entire understanding of the hierarchy on the spot. Effort means nothing here. Only the roar of the crowd decides rank.
I placed my dish down, humbly, near the napkins. A peasant's position. I accepted it.
And then a man tapped my shoulder, pointed at my dish, and said the words that changed everything.
"Whoa, did you make this? This is amazing. Everybody, you GOTTA try this guy's thing."
The room turned. The room came. The room ATE. My dish vanished in ninety seconds. The pizza woman herself took a second helping and looked at me with respect.
I had won the summit. By accident. With a dish I placed by the napkins.
I understand nothing about this country. I have never been happier. I am hosting the next one.
So tell me, America.
Is there a system to the potluck? A secret rank? A hidden law?
I have decided there is not.
You just bring the thing you love, and everyone eats it, and somehow everybody wins.
It is the most insane way to hold a war.
I will fight in every single one.
@VinoDoctor@CthlcNtnlst@RadioFreeTom Even John Bolten - who was there at the time and has no reason to support Trump, says it didn't happen.
But sure, trust the disgruntled former employee (Kelley) - they're always reliable sources. 🙄
@PLA22976@athenaeumbc Another recommendation for your older teens; the series by L.A. Meyer: 'Bloody Jack'.
I describe the series as such: imagine Tom Sawyer, but as a young orphan girl living on the streets of London in the early 1800s. Drawn by the sea, she signs on as a 'ships boy', and it begins.
I am William Pulte, and as of this morning the President Trump appointed me acting Director of National Intelligence of the United States.
I am thirty-eight. I have never held a security clearance, never served in uniform, never sat through a briefing that wasn't about interest rates. The President says I have deep experience in the safety and soundness of ten trillion dollars. He is right. I have spent two years deciding which Americans are sound and which are not, and now I get to do it with satellites.
You know me from Twitter. I invented Twitter philanthropy. I picked strangers at random and sent them thirty thousand dollars over Cash App, winners announced in the thread, and three and a half million people followed me to watch it happen. Is that a fanbase? It is a voluntary intelligence database, self-enrolled, fully consented, sorted by who needed the cash most. The desperate identify themselves, like fish swimming up to the boat. I only read the replies.
Before this I ran housing finance. I want to be clear about my method, because people call it political and it is not. It is real estate.
I noticed Lisa Cook had listed two homes as primary residences. Mortgage fraud. I referred her. Then I turned to Letitia James. Adam Schiff. Eric Swalwell. Fani Willis. One after another, the way you'd pull comps on a block before you buy it. I am a homebuilder. My grandfather was also named William Pulte, and he laid the foundations, the literal ones, poured concrete, raised the largest homebuilder in America. I inherited the name and the trade. I know what a house is for, and it is not for shaving a point off your rate, and it is certainly not for sitting in judgment of the President after I have your closing documents open on my desk.
The President removed Cook in August. A judge blocked it in September. The Supreme Court let her keep the seat in October. One of my deputies went on television and promised she will be charged no matter how the Court rules. I did not correct him. I never interrupt a man who is describing the future.
They have a phrase for what I do. Safety and soundness. I applied it to Jerome Powell, who refuses to cut rates and refuses to quit, which renders him, by my own definition, unsound. So I post at him. From my personal account, the same handle where I gave away the thirty thousand dollars, which has lately become the handle where I issue agency directives, because nobody instructed me to stop and I have never once stopped of my own accord.
I still run the FHFA. I chair Fannie Mae. I chair Freddie Mac. Nobody asked me to surrender any of it, so I kept all three, the way a careful man keeps the gas masks. I am the only person in this city who can pull your mortgage, your followers, and the President's Daily Brief from a single chair, and wire you a Cash App payment before I stand up.
The transition team asked for my hundred-day plan. I sent them a screenshot of my following list.
Here is how it works now. The tip line is a giveaway. Report a neighbor, get entered to win, winners announced in the thread. Americans will watch each other for far less than thirty thousand dollars, I have run the numbers, and the ones who do it for nothing are the ones I keep.
Everyone begins sound. Soundness can be lost. This is no longer a watchlist, you understand, because a watchlist names suspects and mine names all of you, which is broader, which is more fair.
I do not declassify documents. I retweet them. The President's Daily Brief drops at nine eastern, peak engagement, and the version with the names goes only to close friends.
Foreign intelligence is the identical trade on a wider street. Ask me which countries claimed two capitals as a primary residence. I have already referred three.
The GAO opened an inquiry into me. Into whether I abused my authority, as though authority came with some gentler setting. I welcomed it warmly. A federal probe is just the government admitting you matter, and I read their letter the way I read all correspondence now, as a roster of names bolted to addresses. They are still awaiting my response. It will come. The GAO leases its office, and I have studied the lease.
Tulsi stepped aside at the end of May. They wanted somebody quickly, somebody confirmed for something, anything at all, and I had been confirmed for housing back when the Senate still confirmed people. So I serve in an acting capacity. It happens to be my specialty. I have spent my whole life qualifying for posts the morning after I already occupied them, and the paperwork has always wandered around to my side eventually, the way a jury softens once it remembers where it parks.
My confirmation hearing arrives in the fall. Am I nervous? I have already read the file of every senator who will sit in that room. I have read the file of every reporter who will describe it. Two of them took my money in 2021, and neither gave it back.
The eighteen agencies no longer need to speak to one another. They need to speak to me. You can reach the entire intelligence community by tagging me, and most of you already have.
Like and retweet for national security. Winners announced in the thread.
This is called “entering the illusion” and amplifying it into absurdity.
It’s not counter attacking Bass and the ideology which she represents. It’s accepting the ideology and amplifying it.
Total killshot.
@ceanndach@IamthatIam321@Mazelit_ No fragility here. God's promise to Abraham stands - regardless of what the ADL may or may not do.
Is your faith so fragile that you are swayed by the words and actions of MEN over the words and actions of God?
@ceanndach@IamthatIam321@Mazelit_ No. The Scofield Bible was based on the King James translation. If this were the only available version you might have a point - but almost no one uses Scofield today.
And Scofield notwithstanding, it only takes a causal reading of Gen. 17 to understand God's promise to Abraham.