This.
This is what our oldest daughter (currently 20) has to look forward to.
She, of course, doesn’t believe it. Neither does her roommate who is in the same boat.
Doesn’t keep me from loving her dearly. It does piss me off at the ideology that has likely wrecked her life.
I know 4 adult women who transitioned at the height of trans frenzy. 3 had mastectomies, all 4 had hormones. 3 are now detrans, 2 sans breasts and one is bald. The remaining one looks gravely ill, black rings under the eyes and self medicates with alcohol and weed from morning to night. Struggles with chronic gut and bladder issues.
We should be teaching people, women especially, to love the healthy bodies they were born in. No disassembly required.
Can anyone point me to a time where a third place candidate (3 days AFTER an election) suddenly has a surge where they start winning 1st place in every new drop by winning 40% of the votes in the batch? Try not to name a third world country. This is getting absolutely absurd.
In America, a friend once asked me,
“In-N-Out or Five Guys?”
At first, I thought this was a lunch question.
Burgers.
Bread. Meat. Cheese. Fries.
Peaceful food.
Food created so humans could stop fighting for twelve minutes.
So I answered with the innocence of a man who did not yet understand the country.
“Both are good, right?”
The air changed.
My friend was smiling.
But his eyes were not.
That was when I understood.
This was not about taste.
This was a loyalty check.
As a Japanese person, I try to avoid conflict.
I like ramen. I like udon. I like soba. I like curry. I like yakisoba.
In Japan, loving more than one food is usually allowed.
But American burgers are different.
In-N-Out has California sunshine and the confidence of a place that has never seen winter.
Five Guys has a paper bag full of fries and the energy of a man who came here to end hunger permanently.
Both are burgers.
But they are not the same burger.
This was no longer lunch.
This was a two-party system made of beef.
My friend asked again.
“So… which one?”
I looked at the fries.
The fries said nothing.
But they had the face of food that had seen many men choose poorly.
I wanted to say both.
But in America, “both” is not always peace.
Sometimes it is just fear wearing polite shoes.
I hesitated.
If I chose In-N-Out, I would betray the mountain of Five Guys fries.
If I chose Five Guys, I would abandon the California sun.
I had only wanted lunch.
Somehow, I was standing in the Battle of Burger Sekigahara.
My friend waited.
The cashier waited.
Even the man behind us seemed emotionally invested.
So I took a breath and gave the most Japanese answer possible.
“I respect both.”
My friend laughed.
That laugh told me everything.
I had escaped.
Politely.
In the end, we went to the closer one.
Not because of ideology.
Because of distance.
And that day, I learned something important.
In America, a burger is not just food.
It is regional identity.
A man does not choose the burger.
The burger reveals the man.
I did not come to eat a hamburger.
I was standing at a border made of beef,
being asked for my passport.
Private Carlton Barrett was possibly the smallest man in his regiment.
5 feet 4 inches tall. 125 pounds.
On the morning of June 6, 1944, he landed at Omaha Beach in neck-deep water, machine gun fire cutting the surface all around him. He made it to shore.
Then he turned around and went back in.
A soldier was drowning. Barrett pulled him out. Then another. Then another. For hours, under constant fire, this 125-pound man waded back into the surf again and again, pulling drowning men to safety and physically carrying the wounded to evacuation boats offshore.
But he didn't stop there.
He ran dispatches the full length of the fire-swept beach. He found soldiers paralyzed by shock and calmed them back into action. He appeared wherever the crisis was worst, doing whatever needed doing, treating rank and personal safety as irrelevant details.
He did this for hours without stopping.
His Medal of Honor citation says his courage had "an inestimable effect on his comrades." That is military understatement for: this small, anonymous man held that section of beach together through sheer force of will.
He survived the war.
His comrades later said his life darkened after he came home. He lived quietly and died in 1986 in California, largely unknown outside of military history circles.
5 feet 4 inches. 125 pounds. He went back in.
Remember him.
🇬🇧 I live in a country where depraved sickos caught with 1000s of the most horrific images and videos of babies and toddlers being r-ped walk free -
And a young man who threw a traffic cone that hit no one, is jailed for 3-5 years.
This generated a thought.
How do atheists want God to stop evil?
By changing how people believe so they don’t act evil?
By intervening to stop people when they’re about to be morons?
By throwing people into solitary when they act against His plan?
Genuinely curious.
Even Bill Maher admits California is completely FKED UP:
"In 39 days we will know the winner. Oh no, that's the mayor of LA.... What a fu*ked-up state this is... Eric Swalwell got 19,000 votes. Who are these people?"
California is a national joke.
“Conservatives oppose abortion but they agree with the death penalty.”
This is called the false equivalence fallacy.
The difference is that criminals consented to their actions and are guilty of them, whereas unborn babies are not.
Over the last 20 years…
Elections decided on Election Night:
Republicans: 52%
Democrats: 48%
Elections decided AFTER Election Night:
Republicans: 20%
Democrats: 80%
This is totally insane.
Nothing to see here…