Il va falloir arrêter d'être faibles.
Bukele a fait du pays le plus meurtrier du monde l'un des plus sûrs du continent. Milei a sorti l'Argentine de l'hyperinflation en moins de trois ans. Ce soir, pendant ce temps, la mairie de Limoges brûle. Et la France regarde.
Ce samedi 17 octobre, des centaines de jeunes ont pris d'assaut l'Hôtel de Ville de Limoges, un monument historique bâti il y a près de 150 ans. Ils ont renversé et incendié des voitures de police sur le parvis, mis le feu au rez-de-chaussée, puis regardé les flammes dévorer le toit, la salle des mariages et l'état civil. Le campanile, emblème de la ville, s'est effondré.
L'état civil. Le lieu où l'on inscrit les naissances, les mariages, les morts. Ce n'est pas un bâtiment qui a brûlé ce soir. C'est la mémoire d'une ville entière.
Alors je m'adresse à tous les Français.
À toi, boomer gauchiste qui crois encore qu'on peut « vivre ensemble » en fermant les yeux : ce soir, c'est ta mairie qui brûle. Tes bons sentiments ne protègent personne.
À toi, jeune qu'on matrixe au marxisme entre deux vidéos TikTok : réveille-toi. Ceux qui te vendent la révolution n'habiteront jamais les villes qu'ils te demandent de brûler.
À toi, cadre moyen qui penses t'en sortir parce que tu vis dans un beau quartier : le feu ne regarde pas le code postal. Limoges, ce n'est pas la banlieue. C'est le cœur de la France.
À toi, entrepreneur qui te tais pour ne froisser personne : ton silence est un luxe que ce pays n'a plus les moyens de s'offrir.
À toi, fonctionnaire qui fais tourner la machine : c'est ton service public qui part en fumée.
À toi, retraité de province qui as construit ce pays : ils brûlent ce que tu as payé toute ta vie.
À toi, élu local qui négocies avec ceux qui cassent : tu es le prochain sur la liste.
À toi, policier qu'on envoie au front sans soutien : la France qui travaille est derrière toi.
À toi, parent qui regardes ces images ce soir avec tes enfants : demande-toi dans quel pays ils vont grandir.
Vous allez tous devoir exiger la même chose. La fermeté. Le retour de l'ordre. La fin de la culture de l'excuse. Sinon, ce qui s'est passé ce soir à Limoges deviendra votre quotidien.
Et les solutions, on les connaît. Personne ne peut plus prétendre le contraire.
Au Salvador, en 2015, on comptait 106 homicides pour 100 000 habitants. Le pays le plus meurtrier de la planète. En 2025 : 1,3. Quatre-vingt-deux homicides sur une année entière, pour plus de six millions d'habitants. Bukele n'a pas organisé de colloque sur les causes profondes. Il a rétabli l'autorité de l'État.
En Argentine, Milei a hérité de 25 % d'inflation par mois, d'un déficit de plus de 5 % du PIB et d'un pays au bord de sa énième faillite. Il a supprimé la moitié des ministères, coupé environ 15 % des emplois publics nationaux, et dégagé un excédent budgétaire deux années de suite, du jamais vu depuis 2008. L'inflation mensuelle est tombée sous les 2 %.
L'ordre d'abord. Un État maigre ensuite. La prospérité suivra.
La France n'est pas condamnée. C'est le plus beau pays du monde, et il a survécu à bien pire. Nous pouvons le reprendre. Mais il faudra un électrochoc, et il ne sera pas tendre.
La question n'est plus de savoir si ça va arriver. C'est de savoir si on agit avant que la prochaine mairie brûle.
Irony alert: Cheryl Reeve, the WNBA coach who wore a "Trans Kids Belong" shirt to troll Sophie Cunningham, gets upset whenever men take coaching jobs from women.
Remember last week when we discovered Spain had a colony in Africa? Yeah me too, that was fun. Turns out they have 7. The UK has 14, France has 13, the Netherlands has 6, and Denmark has two including Greenland. Yet a tiny nation of Jews living in their ancestral homeland with absolutely zero overseas holdings, let alone in Africa, are the colonizers? Mom was right, the biggest hypocrites really do scream the loudest.
Mamdani has always had a seething hatred for Italians. Here's a post from the George Floyd era calling to take down a statue of Columbus. The hatred of Italians is the hatred of beauty, culture, exploration, and genius—which is unbearable for many DSA dirtbags.
The Islamic regime in Iran sentenced singer Parastu Ahmadi to 74 lashes for performing without a hijab
She was also banned from leaving the country and engaging in creative activities for two years. The reason for the verdict was a performance without a hijab during an online concert.
Ahmadi gained fame in December 2024, during the height of the Iranian protests, after performing the famous patriotic song in front of an empty hall.
She performed without a hijab, which is mandatory according to Islamic norms.
Soon after, Ahmadi and eight other participants of the performance were detained.
What’s better than a rare Super Delta formation featuring the Thunderbirds and the @USNavy Blue Angels over Washington, D.C.?
Watching it from four different views for #UFCWhiteHouse as part of #Freedom250. 🇺🇸
This was not our plan.
The kids are all graduating within the next four years. We were going to get an RV. I wanted an Airstream, but I wasn’t sure if the interior would be tall enough for him. I love home improvement projects, so I was going to buy an old one and remodel it. I was going to make a podcast studio in it for him.
We were going to travel. I-5 along the West Coast was first on the list. We both loved the ocean so much. We decided we’d go to every state we hadn’t been to yet...but we’d also go out of our way to drive around Nebraska. We’d go to tailgates at CU. I would install a griddle and make muenster grilled cheese sandwiches for everyone, on sourdough, his favorite, while he covered the game.
He said that even after he retired, he still wanted to interview recruits. He looked forward to not having the daily hustle of getting content up, but he knew in his heart that he would never be able to leave sports. We were going to travel to high schools and go to games. He loved talking to high school coaches, parents, and especially young athletes. I was going to take pictures and videos. We were going to find the athletes who were off the radar, the ones in smaller markets, and give them the spotlight they deserved.
The future now looks so different. It is devastatingly sad, but it is not bleak. Somehow, it never has been. The stories, the pictures, the memories, and the outpouring of love have brought us hope in moments when it feels like my chest is collapsing.
I am glad we didn’t wait until “tomorrow” to fully live life together. I had 3,216 days with him, and we lived life in those days.
We traveled. Even though he deeply loved the Celtics his whole life, he had never been to the Garden. For his 40th birthday, I surprised him with a trip to Boston. A few years later, he surprised me with a trip to my number one bucket list destination, Lisbon.
Starting in 2018, I tried to go to one away game with him every year. I got to accompany him to Washington, Minnesota, Utah, TCU, San Antonio, Nebraska, and West Virginia, and twice to Las Vegas for Media Days. All but one of those games, we lost. I was bummed that my pictures kind of fell to the wayside because most people wouldn’t want to remember those games. But we always said the trips were amazing, aside from the football.
Going to New York to cover the Heisman ceremony was one of his favorite experiences. He was awestruck that he had the opportunity to do that, and I was able to go with him.
He’d go on Yelp and find the best places to eat. Nothing under 4.3 stars, unless there was no other option. We’d finish every single trip with a food ranking. He loved a list and a ranking. He’d find out if there was an art museum for us to go to. That was never something he would have done on his own, but he knew I wanted to. He never rushed me. We’d both go at our own pace, and I was always slower. He would be waiting for me at the end of the floor, on his phone. Texting recruits. Sending a newsletter. Calling a coach. I’d walk over, he’d look up and smile, turn his phone off immediately, and we’d go to the next floor.
Sometimes life would allow us to go on a spontaneous trip, and we did. When they announced that Kansas was playing in the first round of the tournament in Salt Lake City, he said, “You know, I don’t have anything big coming up and the kids aren’t here that weekend… we could actually drive there.”
And we did.
He went with me on a work trip to South Dakota because he hadn’t been there before. I ended up having to drive because that was the week Mel Tucker left. He was on his phone and computer most of the trip, but he put it away so we could go to Mount Rushmore and see all the places from North by Northwest. He loved Hitchcock and old movies.
We drove out to Lawrence, Kansas, to watch a KU basketball game almost every year. I am the Jayhawk, but he appreciated the history and the legacy, and he became a fan too. He loved that I loved sports. In October last year, he spontaneously said maybe we should go to Late Night in the Phog. So we did.
Sometimes we’d just go to an Airbnb in Boulder after a game instead of going home, just so we could experience something new. Or we’d take a weekend to stay in Golden with the kids.
I wanted more days. I wanted more years. But I am so thankful we didn’t wait for the “right” time to enjoy life together. We experienced life together to the fullest, every single one of those days we had.
Please take the trip. Treat yourself to really, really great food. Go to a hotel in your own city. Find somewhere that shows old movies. Go to a museum that maybe isn’t something you would normally seek out. Make time with your friends and family. Tell people you love them often, to the point of too much. Hug them.
We are not promised tomorrow, but we do have today.
I’m noticing a lot of foreigners who seem to not understand why we’d risk hundreds of lives, spend millions of dollars, and sacrifice several aircraft to rescue one guy. And the reason they don’t understand is also the reason people can’t be made American by a piece of paper.
I am 28 years old, and I have lived my entire life suffocating under the Islamic Republic. I am writing this from the streets of Tehran, nearly a month into a war, and let me tell you a truth that the outside world cannot seem to comprehend:
My biggest fear right now is not the missiles.
My paralyzing, everyday terror is walking out my front door and hitting an IRGC checkpoint. It is the sickening knot in my stomach when the people I love step outside, knowing they might get dragged away by these monsters. Nothing is, was, or ever will be worse than this regime. You cannot convince me otherwise.
I am bleeding myself dry. I spend every ounce of my energy and money fighting this digital blackout, buying VPN after VPN just to force a connection through so I can be the voice of my people. And what do I see when I finally get online? Analysts sitting safely abroad telling us, *"You haven't tried all the paths yet!"*
Are you out of your minds?
The last "path" we took, over 40,000 of us didn't come home. On that path, a live bullet flew centimeters past my ear and right past the head of the most precious person in my life. I almost lost my best friend forever on that asphalt. What goddamn path is left to take?
Why do you trample on the spilled blood of my compatriots? Why do you spend your time fighting Crown Prince @PahlaviReza instead of listening to a crushed, bleeding nation?
Last night, I watched his speech. Do you know what I felt?
Relief.
The profound relief of hearing an honorable man echo the exact pain and demands of his people, with more precision than anyone else. And I felt pride. I felt absolute pride in the truth, structure, and beauty of his words.
Do you know how heartbreaking it is that pride is a foreign, alien emotion for an Iranian today? He gave that back to us.
We screamed his name with all our might. 40,000 of our fallen heroes signed his leadership with their own blood.
Stop fighting our choice.
Listen to us.
Iran has reportedly kidnapped the families of the Iranian women’s soccer team members who requested asylum & the women are now abandoning those claims and returning to the country to face torture or death. No prominent left wing American women’s soccer players have said a word.
The Iranian women’s national football team refused to sing the anthem of the Islamic Regime. Tonight. At the opening match of the Asian Cup. In front of the entire world.
So, to all liberal Western women:
Watch and learn.
THIS is what real feminism looks like.
"78% of students told us they self-censor on their beliefs surrounding gender identity; 72% on politics; 68% on family values. More than 80% said they had submitted classwork that misrepresented their views in order to align with professors."
https://t.co/zDKx818TqG
🚨#BREAKING: The man stabbed in the chest by an illegal alien on the train in Charlotte NC, Kenyon Dobie, is in critical condition with a tube in his chest, pumping blood out of his lungs.
According to authorities, Dobie was the only person who stood up and told the drunk illegal to stop screaming at riders, including an elderly woman on the train.
For his efforts, he was knifed in the chest.
"I guess it’s better off that it happened to me and not an older person. I wasn’t trying to be a macho man, but what I won’t allow is you to attack random people for no reason, especially the elderly..."
Old Annie is gone. @obxdogwalker and I had her for the last year and a half of her life, but the cancer finally won.
My veterinarian and good friend Logan came to the house and we sent her home while we were lying on the deck, the sun shining and the ocean breeze flowing over us. I took her last breath with her and told her I'll see her soon enough. Yes, I cried like a baby (I always do), but I'm telling you the pain is worth it.
Before he left, Logan told me that we give these dogs a victory lap they never expected to have. I'll remember that.
We'll find another old dog that nobody wants and they'll join our pack. They'll eat well, walk on the beach like Annie did, and be loved until the very end.
God is good.
I coached a lot of town and club soccer in Maine from 2003 to 2017. At the time, I was practically the only experienced Female coach in the state. I always had Male assistants and every single game-day, like clock work, the opposing coach (always male) would walk straight up to my assistant coach to introduce themselves. My assistant would always point at me with a smirk and say “She’s the Head Coach.” The other coach would always then awkwardly fumble through an apology. I was never too offended by it, inwardly laughing by how embarrassed the other coaches were, although I guess on some level it did remind me how male dominated the sports world was with little respect for females. After a few years of this, I showed up to a game where I saw a male coach warming up his team with a young female at his side. I walked right up to the Male to introduce myself and he pointed at her and said “She’s the head coach.” I was absolutely horrified that I had made the same mistake with the same level of disrespect to the female head coach. My point is we can’t solely blame males for stereotyping as we are all wired with certain biases and even though we’ve come a long way, we still have a long way to go. #WomenInSports #PlayLikeAGirl #CoachLikeAGirl