John

Cynicism is telling the truth about how ugly the world is, but lying about how beautiful it is. Practice gratitude and the details will sort themselves out

[John @stbbornoptimist]

@luinalaska That's a beauty. I love seeing beautiful, quality made furniture that will get passed down generation to generation

[Gretchen Ronnevik @garonnevik]

I’m probably opening up a can of worms here, but to those saying I need to spay my cats, consider a few things. We are a grain farm. Grain farms attract rodents. Hundreds of them. Big ones. We can use cats, or we can use more chemicals to handle them. Your choice.

Humane societies refuse to give cats to farms. They claim cats are not for work, they are for domestic use only. I have tried. So we have to breed our own, and farmers have a whole network to manage this. We take excellent care of our cats. They are handled and loved. But we are not the city. We are not a neighborhood. We are a rural farm trying to keep our chemical and disease levels low.

[John @stbbornoptimist]

@bgetsbetter Will ain't learning no lessons. I'm never quite sure what percentage retarded he is vs. what percentage shameless propagandist

[John @stbbornoptimist]

@mattvanswol I have good news that should slow that heart rate a bit - it isn't every person, quite a few people care about both! We can all team up and tackle both issues, fellow genuinely well meaning man! Unless you're talking about election cycle @dbongino, he no longer seems interested

[Morbid Knowledge @MorbidKnowledge]

Aaron Tucker had been out of prison for seven days. He had less than $2 in his pocket and one shot at turning his life around, a job interview that morning. Then he saw a car flip over and catch fire from his bus window.

He asked the bus driver if he was going to help. "No, but if you get out I'm going to leave," the driver replied. Tucker got out anyway.

He sprinted toward the upside-down, smoke-filled car and found the 61-year-old driver covered in blood.

He unbuckled the man's seatbelt and dragged him clear as the car started to catch fire.

He pulled off his own dress shirt and used it to stop the man's head wound from bleeding, telling him: "You're going to be all right. Your family wants to see you. Keep your eyes open."

The bus left. Tucker missed his interview.

When the story got out, strangers set up a GoFundMe that raised over $50,000 in three days. He also received multiple job offers in construction.

"I feel like a job can come and go, but a life is a one-time thing," Tucker said. "The job just wasn't in my mind at that time."

[John @stbbornoptimist]

@bgetsbetter 51!

[John @stbbornoptimist]

@sofyamitchell She had another post about (paraphrasing) how it creates resentment if the only time a man touches his wife/gf is to initiate sex - that is true. However, the post getting the attention is, at best, obtuse. The post, and her reaction to all the pushback, reads as narcissism.

[NyanChuu🔮🇯🇵🍭 @tanpukunokami]

USA. My friend’s house. The door had not fully opened, and love was already charging at me.

A dog.

Running. Jumping. Tail moving at dangerous speed.

I stopped my friend. “Is this an attack?”

He laughed. “He likes you, man.”

LIKES ME. In my land, affection often arrives carefully. A nod. A small smile. Maybe tea. Feelings remove their shoes before entering the room.

Here, affection had paws, speed, and no braking system.

This is not a greeting. This is friendship with impact damage.

The dog reached me with the gravity the moment deserved. And then — I must report this calmly — I was hit by joy.

Paws on my chest. Tongue near my face. Tail destroying the air around us.

My friend warned me. “Don’t worry, he’s friendly.”

Too late. Friendly had already made physical contact. Honor demanded I receive it. A man cannot refuse sincere diplomacy just because it arrives at forty miles per hour.

By the time I sat on the couch, I was a ruined man.

I was not clean. I was not balanced. I had been defeated by welcome.

A love that arrives before permission cannot be understood. It can only be survived.

I know the rule now. I have made my peace with American dogs. When the door opens, brace the soul.

Who am I deceiving. I want him to do it again. I was knocked backward by friendship, and I accept the treaty.

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

Stateside, a gas station. I drank a frozen blue beverage too quickly, and was struck down by a punishment this entire nation knows, and accepts, and has named.

The drink is called a slush. Ice, sweetness, and a blue that does not occur in nature. The day was hot. I was thirsty. I drank like a soldier at a river.

The pain arrived in my skull like a war horn.

Behind the eyes. Above everything. Total. I gripped the roof of my car. I may have made a sound.

"Brain freeze," said the cashier through the door, with no urgency whatsoever.

It has a NAME. The affliction is so common it has a household name, like a cousin.

"Tongue on the roof of your mouth," called a man at the pumps. He did not look over. He prescribed the remedy mid-pump, casually, the way one mentions weather.

I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. The war horn faded. The healer nodded at his pump, finished, and was gone in a Chevrolet.

In my land, punishment follows crime by way of courts and seasons. Here, the sentence is instant. Drink with greed, and the ice strikes the mind directly. No trial. No appeal. Perfectly fair.

And here is what moves me. EVERYONE has felt it. The cashier. The healer. Children. Elders. An entire nation united by the same small lightning, all taught the same cure, all passing it on to strangers at gas stations, free of charge.

You cannot fully distrust a country once you know it shares one pain.

The freeze does not punish thirst. It punishes haste.

I finished the slush slowly, like a scholar. Blue tongue. Clear mind.

Then at the door I forgot everything, drank deeply, and was struck down again.

"Tongue, hon," said the cashier, without looking up.

Discipline is a journey.

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

USA. A Mexican restaurant. We had not yet ordered anything, and the food was already arriving.

Chips. Salsa. Unrequested. Free.

I stopped the waiter. "We have not earned these."

"They just come with the table, man."

They come with the TABLE. In my land, hospitality is a debt. Every gift creates an obligation, weighed carefully, returned in the proper season with interest of feeling. Here, the gift arrives before you have even proven you can pay for dinner.

This is not an appetizer. This is a declaration: we trust you. Eat.

I ate with the gravity the moment deserved. And then — I must report this calmly — the basket emptied, and a new one appeared.

"Did we…?"

"Refill," the waiter said. "It's bottomless."

Bottomless. They have wells of salsa. The supply lines of this nation are beyond anything my ancestors imagined.

My friend warned me. "Don't fill up on chips, dude."

Too late. I had accepted three baskets. Honor demanded each one be finished — an unfinished gift is an insult. By the time my actual food arrived, I was a ruined man.

I was not hungry. I was not comfortable. I had been defeated by a courtesy.

Generosity that arrives before the request cannot be repaid. It can only be survived.

I know the rule now. I have made my peace with the basket. One basket. Two at the most.

Who am I deceiving. There is no number of baskets I would refuse. The trust of a nation is in that salsa, and I intend to honor all of it.

[🔥⚜️ 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐌𝐚𝐣𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 ⚜️🔥 @Andrew_Maj42]

🎣🐟 FIRST CATCH MAGIC ✨
With his dad by his side, he caught his very first fish and in that moment, time stood still.
Pure excitement, pure pride, pure childhood joy 🥰💙

A memory made forever… and a smile that says it all 🌊✨

[John @stbbornoptimist]

@KyleMatovcik Appreciate it sir. I live in NH so it's tough to find used vehicles that aren't destroyed by salt, fortunately I don't need to find something asap, I'm just keeping my eyes open

[Vince Langman @LangmanVince]

How great is this, Hundreds of neighbors showed up to support the two local kids who's lemonade stand was robbed!

More of this please!

[BostonWriter @bostonwriter]

I love this stuff. All of it. I don’t care if my algo is being manipulated. I don’t care of it’s a psyop. Having my timeline filled with joy is a very, very welcome change. More please.

[David Scott Harris @HVNYrefugee]

I spent 10 years in progressive higher education. The faculty (and most of the students) LOVED to drone on about how uncouth and vulgar Americans were, specifically heartland conservatives. They did it constantly.

Most of them had been to Europe at least once, students for study abroad, faculty for research trips. One professor told me that Ireland was “my favorite country in the whole world.”

They loved to talk about how cultured Europeans were, how stupid and out-of-touch flyover Americans were, and made every endeavor to set themselves apart.

Well, now the Europeans are here. In the heartland. With the closed-minded-bigoted-Baptists. And they love it.

It’s real, it’s beautiful, it’s America. 🇺🇸

[orthodoxmason @orthodoxmason]

Rule of Thumb: If it looks good midway through process, odds are it will look good at the end.

[Restoring Your Faith in Humanity @HumanityChad]

He is collecting them like infinity stones

[John @stbbornoptimist]

@WmAG_V If you think teachers are stewards of intellectual development it speaks to your own stupidity

[John @stbbornoptimist]

@libertydadpod It was/is strange to watch him and his champions use that excuse. He was right to avoid the podcasts because they would have been mean to him, but he's strong enough and qualified enough to take on the US federal government?