I own a Gladius for home defense since that’s what Jupiter intended.
Four barbarians break in to my house.
“Quid Diabolus?!”
I grab my gladius and pilum.
With a mighty throw, I skewer the first man, he’s dead on the spot.
Chuck my pugio at the second and miss because it’s not built to be thrown and nails neighbor Gaius’ goat.
I have to resort to the onager mounted on top of the stairs. ”Roma in aeternum!”
The loud smack of the throwing arm disturbs the slumber of Gaius’ mother, who’s incessant nagging reverts the third barbarian to a child-like state.
Draw my gladius and charge the last terrified savage.
He bleeds out waiting for his crucifixion because the broad blade leaves terrible lacerations to his internal organs.
Just as Jupiter intended.
4th of fuckin July must be the day everyone decides to try out driving for the first time ever HOLY FUCK
If you drive under the speed limit I believe so strongly that you should be shot that I’m willing to do it myself. It’s that serious.
I bring home a trapped coyote and let it loose in the kitchen.
Hackles up. Teeth bared. Pissing on the floor.
My wife says, "Get it out."
I tell her that is a very unwelcoming and unchristian way to speak about a future house pet.
The children back into the hallway.
I tell them it's a rescue.
I tell them fences are fear.
I tell them cages are barbaric.
I tell them the old rules were cruel.
I tell them it will domesticate in time.
Then I grab my lunchbox and leave them to live with my principles.
When I get home, there is blood on the floor, and the experts who sold me on compassion are already explaining why nobody could have seen this coming.
Anyway, that's Western migration policy.
Just in case this isn’t sickening enough for any of you, those dogs were likely shot in their kennels and left to rot, if they hadn’t already starved or died of dehydration. Absolutely fucking disgusting and disgraceful.
Thank you for mentioning the 'Working Dogs' (K9's left behind from the Afghanistan withdrawal).
Not many ppl mention this, but in the small world of handlers who work and train them, it was sickening to even think about, especially when you know the mentality towards dogs in general in Afghanistan-
"Many Afghans consider dogs to be religiously unclean (haraam) and avoid physical contact with them."
Thank you for remembering them.
Amazing how fast the Pentagon’s self-anointed Hall of Sacred Stars turns into a bunch of hysterical old bitches the second Pete Hegseth starts touching their furniture.
For years these pricks ran the place like their own private country club with security clearances and taxpayer-funded bar tabs.
Lose wars? Get promoted.
Botch the Kabul disaster so badly that Americans got left behind and working dogs got abandoned? Circle the wagons and protect your own.
Turn the force into a DEI clown show that prioritized race, gender, and feelings over combat power? Call it “progress” and hand each other medals.
Let retired generals and admirals linger over the active ranks like vultures waiting for their next board seat or cable news hit? That was just “mentorship.”
They built a perfect machine: command a division, lose some wars, retire, then cash in on defense contractor boards, think tank sinecures, and “distinguished” speaking fees while still whispering in the ears of the officers they left behind. And if anyone asked too many questions, the whole rotten club would close ranks and call it an attack on “the institution.”
Now Hegseth walks in and starts yanking out the people who helped turn the United States military into a taxpayer-funded sociology experiment with guns, and suddenly these same arrogant bastards rediscover “norms,” “process,” and “institutional integrity.” Spare me the theater.
This was never about keeping politics out of the military. It was always about protecting the people who already politicized it, institutionalized it, and then decorated themselves for doing it. Hegseth didn’t bring politics into the Pentagon. He found their political machine already installed, running at full power, and guarded by men with stars on their chests and future paychecks in their eyes.
And now that machine is getting smashed.
The howling you’re hearing isn’t concern for the troops. It’s the sound of a corrupt old boys club watching their racket get dismantled in real time.
(article below)