This 3-minute @smerconish about America might be the best “feel good” clip you’ll watch this 4th of July.
Over a million foreign World Cup fans arrived expecting the tense, angry, divided America their screens had shown them.
Then they met us and found the friendly, generous, welcoming country we were promised growing up.
The polls measure Washington. The visitors measured us. The gap between the two might be the most American story of all. Happy 250th, America. 🇺🇸
There have been 4 major revolutions in the past 250 years: American, French, Russian, and Chinese. Only one led to individual rights and prosperity. The others led to mass death and tyranny. The US revolution was unique because it said two things: 1. Our rights come from God not from the govt. 2. Humans are power -hungry so we need to limit govt power. So the next time someone attacks the nation of one revolution that succeeded and recycles the the idea of those that miserably failed, you can ask them: are you ignorant, or malicious?
Black kids born outside of wedlock prior to 1960 was 21 percent.
Today it's over 73 percent.
The biggest reason for this is the Government giving financial incentive to get rid of the fathers.
This has nothing to do with slavery or Jim Crow. It's LBJ and Democrat policies.
The media language game is always the tell.
SCOTUS didn’t “ban” a single goddamn person from sports. Nobody got dragged off a track. Nobody had their running shoes ripped off their feet. Nobody was forbidden from training, sweating, competing, winning, losing, or chasing a personal best.
A biological male was simply told the girls’ division still has rules. That’s it. That’s the entire fucking story.
But “ineligible for the protected female category” doesn’t create enough outrage, so the media whores rewrite it into emotional terrorism. Suddenly it’s “dreams crushed,” “child banned from sports,” “civil rights violated,” “just wants to play.” Cue the fake tears, the soft piano music, and the total erasure of every actual girl whose opportunities just got stolen in real time.
Fuck that noise.
Every other category in sports is treated like normal, obvious, non-negotiable reality.
Age groups? Fine.
Weight classes? Fine.
Paralympic divisions? Fine.
Varsity cutoffs? Fine.
Little League limits? Fine.
But the second a category exists to protect girls from male physical dominance, these same sanctimonious fucks start screaming that rules are hate and fairness is bigotry.
Girls’ sports weren’t built as some feelings-based participation circus. They were created because males and females are not the same after puberty, and everyone with half a brain used to understand that.
Now activists have turned civil rights language into a weapon to launder male access into female spaces, and they lose their shit the moment anyone says no.
This ruling didn’t end sports for anyone. It just refused to let one lane get completely erased so males could feel validated. And that’s exactly why the media can’t tell the truth about it. Honest language would expose the entire fucking scam.
(article below)
"There is a phrase in the Catholic Church for a certain kind of believer: the cradle Catholic. It means the one who was born into the faith, baptized before he could speak, raised inside the rituals so completely that he never had to choose them. He did not convert. He did not study his way in or have a come-to-Jesus moment that brought him to the church door as a grown man. The cradle Catholic was simply always there. And the church has a quiet worry about him, an insecurity, because the thing you are handed in the cradle is the thing you are most likely to take for granted. The convert had to earn the faith and so he knows exactly what it is. The cradle Catholic risks practicing out of habit a thing he has never once had to defend.
"I have come to think there is such a thing as a cradle American, and that many of us now are one. We were born into freedom the way the cradle Catholic was born into the faith. We did not convert to freedom. Most of us under seventy did not serve in the armed forces or march for it or risk our families. We were born into this land where the rights were already written down and the laws made. And like the cradle Catholic, we are in danger of losing the greatest thing we have ever been given, because a freedom you have never had to defend is a freedom you do not know how to defend."
Link below.
Tulsi Gabbard just described the actual operating system of Washington and it’s somehow even dumber and more insulting than the conspiracy versions.
She needed one printed document for a 10 a.m. Oval Office meeting with the President. A mid-level staffer ... detailed from another agency ... decided he didn’t like what was on it, printed it anyway, then locked it in his desk and refused to hand it over. Her chief of staff went down. Her general counsel went down. Both got told to pound sand until the guy’s real boss at his home agency finally gave permission.
That’s the “deep state.” Not some secret society in a basement. Just some nobody with a desk drawer and a God complex who genuinely believed his personal veto outranked the Director of National Intelligence and the elected President of the United States.
This is what Gabbard means when she says they “thrive in the gaps between elections.” The voters pick a direction every four years. The permanent class decides which parts of that direction are even allowed to reach the Resolute Desk. They control the files. They control the information flow. And they’ve been doing it across administrations for decades because the only thing they actually answer to is each other.
The rest of us are just supposed to pretend the elections are real while these people quietly decide what the winner is permitted to know and act on.
Watch her whole speech if you want the full savage version. But the core truth is brutally simple: America votes. Then the people nobody voted for decide what happens next.
(article below)
“I work the front desk at a small doctor’s office, and I wish people could see what happens on the other side of the phone.
Every day, older patients call us confused.
They are told to use the patient portal, upload documents, check lab results online, fill out forms before the visit, and confirm everything through a link.
Some of them do not know what a portal is.
Some do not have a smartphone.
Some have one, but they are afraid to click the wrong thing.
Last week, a man in his late 80s called about his test results.
He said, “Ma’am, I don’t mean to bother you, but the computer says I have a message and I don’t know how to open it.”
He sounded ashamed.
That broke my heart.
He should not have to feel ashamed for needing a human being.
Technology can be helpful. I understand that.
But when people who built this country are made to feel helpless because everything became a login and a password, we have gone too far.
Not everything needs to be an app.
Not every answer should be hidden behind a screen.
Sometimes people need a voice.
A patient person.
A real human who says, “Don’t worry, I can help you.”
Progress should not leave seniors behind.
Because one day, the world will move faster than us too.
And I hope someone is kind enough to slow down.
~Unknown
Somewhere a marketing department convinced half the internet that a ninety-pound tub of dried pond scum is the missing key to human health. AG1 might be the slickest con in the entire wellness racket.
Meet the visionary behind it. Before Chris Ashenden built AG1 into a billion-dollar empire, a New Zealand court convicted him of more than forty breaches of the Fair Trading Act over a rent-to-buy property scheme the judge branded the calculated exploitation of people struggling financially.
He took working families' money for homes, skipped the small matter of handing over the title, wound up his companies, stiffed the victims on much of what he owed, and sailed off to America to sell everyone smoothies.
He quietly resigned as chief executive in 2024, the very moment a podcast began shining a torch on all this. Nothing says trust me with your health like a man convicted of fleecing the desperate.
The powder itself is a masterpiece of doing almost nothing. Seventy-odd ingredients in a proprietary blend, the trade's favourite magic trick, which lets you parade a glorious label while hiding how microscopically little of each is in the scoop.
Reviewers who look closely describe a base of cheap spirulina with everything else sprinkled on like fairy dust, at doses too small to trouble your biology. The company has dodged publishing full lab reports, and once settled a lead scare by slapping a warning on the tub in California and pretending the rest of the planet did not exist.
Now the punchline, which is the money. A month runs around ninety pounds, sold direct and never in a shop, which conveniently frees up nearly the whole price to bribe whoever reads the advert.
Affiliates reportedly pocket twenty to fifty per cent of every sale, forever. AG1 hoses north of two million dollars a month at podcasts, which is exactly why Rogan, Ferriss, Bartlett, Williamson and Saint Andrew Huberman keep gargling its praises.
Huberman is reported to own a stake in the thing, and reads at his level fetch up to two hundred thousand dollars a pop. The nice neuroscientist selling you your greens owns a slice of the greens. Funny, that.
Here is the swindle beneath the swindle, so hold your nerve. AG1 sells you the terror that your dinner is failing you, that you are one scoop from collapse. Utter nonsense.
A single egg yolk, a nub of liver or a tin of sardines carries more usable nutrition than a lifetime of spray-dried lawn clippings, in a form your body can actually use. Vegetables were oversold before anyone freeze-dried them, and grinding them to powder to flog them back at ninety quid a month is that same old lie in its Sunday best.
You were never deficient. A convicted conman and the millionaires he pays to nod along simply talked you into believing it.
Eat the egg. Bin the powder.
You know what shook me when I was Muslim?
The story of Hosea. God tells a prophet to marry a woman He knows will betray him.
She does. She runs to other men. She ends up enslaved, sold, used up, worthless to the world.
And God tells Hosea to go BUY HER BACK.
To pay money for his own wife who cheated on him, and love her again. Hosea 3.
I thought it was the most humiliating command in the Bible. Why would any man do that?
Then I realized I was the wife.
I gave my heart to everything but God. I chased other masters. I sold myself cheap. I made myself worthless.
And God looked at me, the betrayer, and didn’t say “you’re not worth it.”
He said, “Name the price. I’m buying her back.”
That’s the Gospel. God doesn’t wait for the unfaithful to come crawling back clean.
He pays to redeem them while they’re still dirty.
Islam told me to make myself worthy of God.
Hosea showed me a God who pays to redeem the unworthy.
The cross was Him naming the price.
Praise the Lord.