Soil is a bank account, and modern farming has quietly run it into overdraft.
Plough a field and take a crop, and you make a withdrawal. The structure breaks down, the carbon escapes, and a little more topsoil washes or blows away. Do it year after year with nothing going back, and the account empties.
The UN's Food and Agriculture Organisation reckons a football pitch of soil erodes somewhere on earth every five seconds, and that ninety percent of the planet's topsoil could be at risk by 2050. It takes a thousand years to build a few centimetres. We are spending it in decades.
Grazing animals run the account the other way. They make deposits:
- They crop the grass so the roots dig deeper and pull carbon down.
- Their hooves work seed into the ground and break the crust so rain soaks in.
- Their dung and urine feed the worms and the microbes.
- Managed well, they build measurable topsoil, year on year.
The Dust Bowl fits in one sentence. America took the bison off the plains, ploughed the grassland the herds had built over millennia, and within fifty years the soil got up and blew away.
The repair walks on four legs and runs on grass. We keep choosing the overdraft, then act surprised when the balance falls.
SCAM
India born Sriram Krishnan, Senior Policy Advisor on Artificial Intelligence, is "voluntarily leaving the position. Reportedly, he purchased his degree in India and entered the US on a VISA to work with Microsoft.
Krishnan was a huge advocate for the India tech pipeline and removing per-country caps for green-card employment based permanent residency, to clear the massive backlog of Indian applications to enter the US. Allegedly, there were tensions about the H1B reform and 60 day waiting period.
How much more will it take to convince you that the India-US corridor and those involved, doesn't benefit the US AT ALL?
Ohio this is to you. Either you want your jobs, or you want to elect this. Vivek is selling data centers and automation. Tech jobs. Do you think you will get them? Vivek is selling ending Ohio engineering programs, to remove any competition from Ohio American graduates. Vivek is selling vocational training, so you can work for them.
This appears to be pushed by InfoSys, TekSoft, Tata Consultancy, Cognizant & a few small desi “body shops” to support work for Tractor Supply.
Once again, these types of businesses should NOT be allowed to operate as Human Labor Trafficking rings for American businesses!
Cc: @AAGDhillon@andrealucasEEOC@Sonderling47@StephenM@SecRubio
Well Good evening @TractorSupply@hallawton
We are disappointed and actually darned mad.
There is zero reason any of these positions cannot be filled with American workers.
NONE.
Why is @CBPCommissioner doing nothing about the 250,000 illegal aliens driving 80,000-pound trucks on our highways?
Most Americans don’t know this, but Border Patrol agents are perfectly equipped and trained for highway enforcement.
They have the authority, the vehicles, the systems, and the mission to identify fake documents, pull over unqualified drivers, and remove people who shouldn’t be here.
Yet they’re being kept out of the interior.
So either the Commissioner doesn’t know about this massive safety risk… or he doesn’t care.
Both answers are unacceptable.
This is willful neglect by design.
What’s the excuse?
In 1919 a New York physician got so fed up with watching his patients get worse that he went to a museum to ask the dead for advice.
His name was Blake Donaldson. He had a practice full of people who were overweight, ill, and getting steadily worse no matter what the medicine of the day threw at them, and he had run clean out of ideas. So he walked into the American Museum of Natural History, found the anthropologists, and asked them the question no respectable doctor was supposed to ask. What did healthy humans actually eat before all of this?
They showed him the skulls. Ancient ones. Pre-agricultural ones. And the teeth stopped him in his tracks. No decay. No crowding. No abscesses. Rows of clean, strong, untroubled teeth belonging to people who had never met a dentist, a toothbrush, or a sack of flour. The anthropologists told him about the Plains hunters who lived on buffalo, and about pemmican, the dense brick of dried meat and rendered fat that carried men through a North American winter on next to nothing else.
Donaldson went back to his surgery and did something that would get a modern doctor hauled in front of a committee. He put his patients on meat.
Fat meat, specifically. Roughly six ounces of lean with two ounces of visible fat, three times a day, from beef or lamb. Coffee. Water. That was the prescription. He stripped out what he called the worst offenders, the flour and the sugar and the sweet milk, and he watched what happened.
What happened was they got better. The weight came off without hunger, because he insisted they eat enough and eat often. The blood pressure settled. The gallstones, the migraines, the aching joints, the sour stomachs, the whole catalogue of modern complaints he had been failing to shift for years began, quietly, to resolve. He kept going. By the end he had run something like seventeen thousand patients through this regime over roughly forty years, which is a working lifetime of evidence rather than a passing fad.
He wrote it down in a book called Strong Medicine in 1961.
The establishment's response was swift and familiar. One prominent figure pronounced the book hardly scientific. Another filed Donaldson under food faddism and implied he had simply forgotten whatever he once knew about nutrition. A man with forty years of patient outcomes was waved off by people armed with a theory and a grievance, and the profession moved smoothly on to the low-fat advice that has served us so brilliantly ever since.
He was not a guru and never pretended to be one. He thought he was just copying what those museum skulls had been quietly demonstrating for ten thousand years, which is about the most honest thing a doctor has ever said about diet.
The book is still in print. The skulls are still in the case. And the advice that buried him is still printed on the side of the cereal box.
Britain has cleared its uplands twice before. We are most of the way through the third, and almost nobody has said the word out loud.
The first was enclosure. Across the 1700s and 1800s, act by act, the common land that ordinary families had grazed for generations was fenced off and signed over to private owners. Millions of acres. A cottager with a pig and a cow on the common went to bed a commoner and woke up a trespasser, his animals grazing land that now belonged to the big house.
The second was the Highland Clearances. Families were burned out of their glens and put on ships, because a hillside of sheep paid the landlord better than a hillside of people. Whole valleys went silent. Walk far enough today and you can still find the rooftrees lying in the heather.
The third is happening now, and it arrives in a green coat. The hill farmer is squeezed out by carbon money, by tree-planting targets, by schemes that pay him to keep fewer animals, by land-use plans that quietly file his fields under surplus. A drinks company buys the glen to cancel out its emissions. The valley empties on schedule. Only the cover story is new.
Enclosure was sold as improvement. The Clearances were sold as progress. This one is sold as saving the planet.
Notice what does not change. The same families lose the land. The same hills fall quiet. The same large interests end up owning the ground, and the same comfortable people, a safe distance away, explain why it was all regrettably necessary.
History rarely repeats itself exactly. It just keeps clearing the uplands, and reaching for the kindest available word to do it.
🇺🇸 LinkedIn CEO Dan Shapero plans to fire 540 Americans on July 13, 2026. He filed for 615 H-1B visa hires in Q2 2026.
Dan was appointed CEO in April. He is already executing a clear strategy to replace American workers.
$CUTOFFS
Statins. A lifetime of daily pills, for a benefit so staggering they had to measure it in days.
In the actual trials, taking one every morning for years postponed death by a median of three to four days. Days, not years. Try not to spend it all at once.
Three or four days, collected right at the very end, probably in a bed. Worth it, surely. Now the small print.
Muscle pain and weakness, the most common complaint, waved away for years as simply getting old.
In the worst cases, muscle that breaks down and floods the kidneys, which can finish you off entirely.
A raised risk of type 2 diabetes, real enough that regulators marched a warning onto the box.
Memory loss and confusion, with a warning of its own. They are draining cholesterol out of a brain that is a quarter cholesterol. Bold.
A flat, grinding fatigue, as the very same drug throttles the fuel your cells run on.
Strained liver enzymes, watched for years precisely because the drug leans so hard on the organ.
Sunken hormones, since you have cut off the raw material your body builds testosterone and oestrogen from.
And for the well person swallowing it just in case, a benefit so tiny it politely rounds down to nothing.
So there is the bargain of the century. A lifetime of pain, fog, fatigue, and fresh risk, for three or four extra days you will spend swallowing the pill that caused them.
This year the Home Office moved to stop expert sheep shearers from Australia and New Zealand coming to shear British sheep.
The people who keep the animals comfortable were declared surplus to requirements.
For over a decade, around 75 of the best shearers on earth have flown in each spring on a simple visa concession. In a few brutal weeks they take the wool off up to two million sheep.
A top shearer clears a ewe in two or three minutes. Hundreds a day. Calm hands, no panic in the animal. It is a global trade and a young body's game, and Britain has never grown enough of its own.
The official line? Fourteen years to train Britons, so the door is closing.
Here is what that tidy sentence ignores. A sheep must be shorn every year or she overheats, cannot move properly, and gets eaten alive by flies and maggots. Shearing on time is welfare, plain and simple, written into law and into the animal's own skin.
So a government that lectures farmers without pause about welfare has quietly made the most basic welfare task harder to carry out. After the outcry they allowed one "final" year. Then the experts are gone for good.
A sector already losing money on every fleece, already burning wool it cannot sell, now told it cannot even get the people in to take the wool off.
You could be forgiven for thinking somebody wants the British sheep gone.
Ireland is being made to shrink its dairy herd, with healthy in-calf cows going to slaughter early, to satisfy a nitrogen figure set in Brussels.
Start with how cruel the timing is. Barely a decade ago, when the EU scrapped its milk quotas in 2015, Ireland told its farmers to do the opposite. Expand. Grow the herd. Build the new parlour. The government's own strategy pushed dairy hard for export growth, and thousands of families borrowed heavily and did exactly as they were asked. Now the same establishment that cheered them bigger is ordering them smaller.
The instrument is a rule that sounds technical and harmless. The EU caps the nitrogen that livestock manure may spread on the land. Ireland's grass-fed dairy farms, among the most efficient and lowest-carbon on earth, held a hard-won allowance to graze a little heavier. After a water-quality review, that allowance was cut, from 250 kilos of nitrogen a hectare down to 220, across great swathes of the country from 2024, and it has stayed under threat ever since, its conditions tightening at every review.
To drop under the new line, a farmer has three doors. Find more land, ship his slurry away, or get rid of cows. Land is scarce and the squeeze itself sent rents soaring, so for many the only door left is the herd.
The Irish Farmers Association reckoned an extra sixty nine thousand acres would be needed nationally just to stand still. One senator, a farmer himself, warned that up to forty one thousand cows, a great many of them pregnant, could be sent to slaughter to comply, and called it an animal welfare catastrophe in the making.
Sit with that. Healthy, productive, in-calf cows, on some of the greenest grass in Europe, culled early because a stocking number on a form moved by thirty kilos. The very cows the nation was begging the farmer to buy ten years ago.
This is what modern environmental policy looks like at the sharp end. A good cow loaded onto a lorry she never needed to be on, on a wet Tuesday in County Cork, to shift a figure in a spreadsheet.
🚨 AWESOME! Black father MIC DROPS Karmelo Anthony supporter who said "what do I tell my 5 boys?!" after Anthony was convicted for murdering Austin Metcalf
"I also have 5 boys...I'm gonna try something: when you go to school, DON'T STAB ANY OTHER KIDS. You think you guys can do that?" 🔥🔥
Exactly.
📽️ ant2ndchance
Better question: when do we draw a line and stop making excuses for bad black behavior.
It’s a shame you’re not using your platform to speak against these teen takeovers, encourage black folks to abandon ghetto and victim mentality, and stop blaming racism and slavery for all their problems.
Karmelo Anthony is in jail for a crime he committed; not because of his skin color.
Enough is enough.
The year is 1949.
The Nobel Prize in Medicine has just gone to the man who invented the lobotomy. Your doctor suggests one for your sister, who has not been herself since the baby came. It is the most celebrated advance in psychiatry of the age, and he is simply current. By the time the prize curdles into an embarrassment, close to twenty thousand Americans have had the operation, and proportionally more here in Britain.
The year is 1956.
Lay the baby down on his front, the doctor says. So does the most trusted childcare book ever written, the one on every new mother's shelf. On his back he might choke, the reasoning goes. Millions obey. The advice holds for nearly thirty years, long after the evidence has quietly turned, and a generation of cot deaths is counted before anyone thinks to roll the babies over.
The year is 1966.
A bestselling book informs your wife that menopause is a disease, that she is, in the author's word, a castrate, and that a small daily pill will keep her youthful and tolerable to live with. Her doctor agrees. The drug becomes one of the most prescribed in the country. Nobody mentions that the author sat on the payroll of the company that made it. That detail surfaces decades later, in the same year the landmark trial is halted early for raising rates of breast cancer, stroke and clots.
The year is 1979.
Your ulcer is caused by stress and sharp food, the doctor explains. Calm down, drink milk, take the antacid that happens to be the best-selling medicine on earth. Two Australians are about to prove that most ulcers are caused by a bacterium and cured by a fortnight of antibiotics. The profession laughs. One of them eventually drinks a beaker of the stuff to settle the matter. The establishment takes the better part of twenty years to stop laughing. The Nobel lands in 2005.
The year is 1985.
Butter is dangerous, the doctor says. Switch to margarine, it is modern, it is heart-healthy, the experts are united. The spread he nudges you toward is loaded with trans fats, which the next decade will identify as the genuinely dangerous one, and which will eventually be banned outright. The butter goes quietly back in the fridge. No correction is ever printed at the volume of the original warning.
The year is 1992.
There is a pyramid on the surgery wall, and the very same one in your grandchild's classroom. Bread, cereal, rice and pasta form the broad virtuous base, up to eleven servings a day. Fat is exiled to the tiny tip. The chart was reportedly held back a year while the relevant industries had their say. It is wrong at the bottom and wrong at the top.
Now it is today.
Your doctor has new guidelines, new studies, a fresh consensus, delivered with precisely the steady confidence of every guideline above. He believes it, and he has good reason to. So did every doctor in this thread. None of them were villains. Each was sincere, most were kind, and all were certain, reading from a map that somebody else had drawn and handed them. That is the part worth sitting with.
So when the man in the white coat tells you what to eat, what to fear, and what to swallow every morning for the rest of your life, you are allowed to ask. Who paid for the study. What the evidence says beneath the headline. What he was just as certain about thirty years ago, and where that advice sits now.
Then make up your own mind. Call it scepticism, or call it whatever your grandmother called it when she ignored the advert, kept the butter where it was, and lived to ninety-one.
It has outlasted every consensus on this list. It will outlast this one too.
Hang on a minute…What?? Why is @ASU threatening to use eminent domain on this 89 year old man’s house that has been there longer than AZ has been a state? I feel a fist fight comin’ on👇