@RepThomasMassie@SecWar Lol. What is this? 2000? NSA has been collecting everything at fiber backbones and with hardware bridges in Cisco routers for decades. Feel free to close the barn door, but those horses ran long ago.
Some things are. TECS trades 24h, and futures are trading. The movement in Korean markets appear to be a late pricing from after market close last week, which American markets seem to have priced in already. I mention TECS, because it is sitting at a -2% correction after finishing up 20% Friday.
SOO proud of the brave men and women of this FBI along with all of our partners.
In less than 24 hours, our Hostage Rescue Team – the FBI’s elite tier 1 tactical unit – mobilized not once but twice, even flying across the country to California in the middle of the night, saving dozens of lives in the process from two individuals with live explosives.
In both Bakersfield, California, and Germantown, Ohio, they executed with precision, professionalism, and total commitment to the no fail mission that makes this FBI one of one. https://t.co/s53FXVWnxi
Behind The Barracks conflict resolution should be more common than it is. It would weed out much of the "Fail-Up" contingent. As we scale up globally, it could act as a safety valve against less palatable practices of the Vietnam era against bad leaders.
I like the quote from the Sharpe series:
"We've killed officers in blue coats, red coats, even officers in white coats!... A bad officer is better off dead, and a good soldier had better learn how to kill him."
It comes across in times of peace as hyperbolic, but it frames well the powder keg that hierarchy denying meritocracy creates within the ranks. Rank is important in times of crisis, but more important is that trust in leadership exists before the chaos ensues.
@ScottPelley is a man who, like a woman in time of war, endangers the men, by demanding to be placed in danger, while men risk everything to protect them. That's a sissy bitch that should have gotten hit in the mouth a few times growing up to make a man of him.
That's the problem. Men who lack the protection drive and most women cannot even conceptualize what a real man does when someone smaller than him is threatened. It exceeds logical thought, and it is the reason that the purse carrying public need to make their exit to calmer places, where their shrieking won't emperil everyone around them.
We are all propaganda. Enculturation is a two-way feedback loop. We form those around us as we, ourselves are formed.
Interconnectedness of the digital era means that tactical and strategic meme(Dawkins) delivery can become possible at scale, unrelenting, and coordinated into a progression sustainable over decades.
All I know is our President wants to win, and his personality and age make him unlikely to waste time in doing so. Our Secretary of War is accomplishing it, day to day. Everything else is noise, and I am 100% accepting that, before we win, every voice could turn to opposition against those two men.
Trump's team is using generational cycles as well as economic cycles to combat multi-generational strategy. This means many of the things he has done will be demonstrably counter to his stated aims.
I don't give a fuck. Unwavering conviction and our military is all that will see us to a positive end of this chapter. The gains of 2026 say the storm approaches, and loyalty is the compass to guide us through it.
As a veteran of the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq I find this self-aggrandizing “journalist” to be highly objectionable.
He is narcissistic filth with a grotesquely ridiculous sense of unwarranted self importance.
People talk about “stolen valor.”
THIS is stolen valor.
Balls lead, Bubba. Hierarchy is established to limit individual agency. Those who transform anything are rarely reverent of established hierarchy.
Your lot is to serve as Sant Sipahi, but that doesn't mean you must always seek other men to follow. Are there not men in your Gurdwara, which would help you patrol the streets protecting native Brits?
After 9/11 things got ugly for Sikhs. If you do not differentiate yourselves as guardians of the cultures who host you, we all know it is likely to happen again.
If you don't get a handle on your young men and teach them to follow your faith, nothing you do will matter, and they'll be right in saying that Sikhs are no different than other men.
His name was Roddie Edmonds.
Most people had never heard of him.
A quiet Methodist from Knoxville, Tennessee. A husband. A father. A churchgoing man who came home from World War II, raised his family, and never once bragged about what he had done.
The world almost lost his story completely.
December 1944.
The Battle of the Bulge.
Roddie Edmonds had been on the Western Front less than a week when his unit was surrounded by German forces. Thousands of American soldiers were captured during Hitler’s final major offensive.
Edmonds became one of them.
What followed was brutal.
A forced march through freezing snow.
Men collapsing from exhaustion.
Packed into rail cars with almost no food or water.
Days of starvation and cold before arriving at Stalag IX-A, a German prison camp.
As the highest-ranking American noncommissioned officer there, Edmonds was responsible for 1,292 prisoners.
Then came the order.
All Jewish soldiers were to report separately the next morning.
Everyone understood what that meant.
Separation was not administration.
It was a death sentence.
That night, Edmonds gathered his men and gave a simple instruction:
“All of you. Every American. Outside in formation tomorrow morning.”
The next day, the German commandant arrived expecting a small group.
Instead, he found 1,292 American prisoners standing shoulder to shoulder.
Furious, he shouted:
“They cannot all be Jews!”
Roddie Edmonds answered with four words that would echo across history:
“We are all Jews here.”
The commandant pulled out a pistol and pressed it against Edmonds’s forehead.
He threatened to shoot him if he did not identify the Jewish soldiers immediately.
Edmonds never moved.
Instead, he calmly reminded the officer that under the Geneva Convention, prisoners only had to give their name, rank, and serial number.
Then he said this:
“If you shoot, you’ll have to shoot all of us. And when this war is over — which it nearly is — you’ll be tried as a war criminal.”
The commandant lowered the gun.
Turned around.
And walked away.
About 200 Jewish-American soldiers were saved that morning because one man refused to divide his men into categories worth protecting and categories worth surrendering.
But Edmonds wasn’t finished.
Weeks later, the Germans ordered the prisoners onto another forced march through the snow.
Edmonds knew many would die.
So he secretly told his men to make themselves appear too sick to travel — eat dirt, grass, whatever it took.
When the Germans came, the Americans stayed behind.
Nearly all the prisoners forced onto the march died.
Edmonds’s men survived to be liberated by General Patton’s forces in March 1945.
And then?
Roddie Edmonds came home and said almost nothing about it.
No speeches.
No interviews.
No book deals.
He worked. Went to church. Raised his children.
He died in 1985.
His family knew he had been a POW.
They had no idea he had saved hundreds of lives.
The truth only resurfaced decades later after his son discovered his wartime diary and began contacting survivors whose names were written inside.
Again and again, they told the same story.
The same frozen morning.
The same pistol.
The same four words.
“We are all Jews here.”
In 2015, Yad Vashem recognized Roddie Edmonds as “Righteous Among the Nations” — the first American soldier ever to receive the honor.
And in 2026, more than 80 years after that moment in the prison yard, his son accepted the Medal of Honor on his behalf.
No battlefield charge.
No dramatic explosion.
Just moral courage.
A man staring down a loaded gun and refusing to hand over his soldiers.
One survivor later said:
“That such people can exist gives you hope for humanity.”
They do exist.
Roddie Edmonds was one of them.
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.
Truth. I think of this often to remind myself that I don't have single thing worth complaining about in life.
The men on those landing boats at Normandy would all gladly trade for my worst day.
I can't even imagine being as scared as those kids were.
@petrogustavo@POTUS, correct me if I'm wrong, but, Petro is nowhere near as valuable to the US as Maduro was. I'd hate for him to think he was going to get the Venezuela treatment when Iran is likely a better predictive model.
I always think of Eisenhower on June 6th. I think of the men in the breach too. But inevitably my thoughts always trace back to him and the fact that he was really just a spectator on that day in 1944.
Meticulous planning and preparation. He pored over every detail with painstaking precision. His nicotine and caffeine consumption off the charts.
His staff, rowing like heroes to be sure. But on D-Day, all Ike could do is watch the pucksters move icons on a map amidst the feverish clicking sound of reports coming in.
But his ability to manage the fight in that moment? Negligible.
I think that’s the difference between his generation of general versus GWOT. We plan in the modern age, sure. But not always well.
Modern leaders in the back of their mind always know they can use instant communication to make adjustments at the highest levels on the fly. A general can become a squad leader in seconds. Micromanagement is often ubiquitous.
It is so difficult to take an appetite suppressant to just let the force fight.
Ike had little choice once the wheels were in motion though. And maybe that’s the lesson. Plan, prepare, let it consume your very soul up to the moment of execution.
But when you cry havoc and slip your dogs of war, let them hunt.
Because if you as a leader, have done your job, they will never disappoint you.
🇺🇸 Most Badass Americans You Don’t Know D-Day Edition: John J. Pinder Jr.
Technician Fifth Grade John J. Pinder Jr. landed on Omaha beach on his birthday. He didn’t make it off.
Born June 6, 1912, in McKees Rocks, Pennsylvania, Joe Pinder was the oldest of three children. His father worked in the steel industry.
He graduated as valedictorian of Butler High School in 1931.
Pinder spent the next several years as a right-handed pitcher in the minor leagues.
He played six seasons in the farm systems of the Cleveland Indians, New York Yankees, Washington Senators, and Brooklyn Dodgers.
In 1941 he won 17 games and was still chasing a shot at the major leagues when the war came.
He entered the Army in January 1942 after Pearl Harbor.
Assigned as a radio operator with the 16th Infantry Regiment, 1st Infantry Division, he fought in North Africa and Sicily.
In Sicily he earned a Bronze Star for staying at an observation post under fire.
On June 6, 1944, Pinder landed with the first waves on Omaha Beach on his birthday.
Communications were shattered. His job was to get a working radio ashore.
He made it off the landing craft. They were 100 yards off the beach.
Then he was hit. A round tore into his face after only a few steps off the boat.
Pinder held the torn flesh of his face together with one hand, carried the radio with the other, and delivered the radio to his unit, while wading thru waste deep water.
That should have been enough. It wasn’t.
Weakened and bleeding, he turned around and went back into the surf and fire three more times to salvage communication equipment.
He even recovered another workable radio.
On the third trip machine gun fire hit him again, this time in the legs.
Still he kept going.
Weakening but exposed on the beach, he helped get the radios working so the men around him could call for support.
While doing so, he was hit for the third time and killed.
Medal of Honor. Posthumous.
It was presented to his father on January 26, 1945.
Pinder was initially buried in Normandy.
In 1947 his family brought him home to Grandview Cemetery in Burgettstown, Pennsylvania.
He was the only professional baseball player awarded the Medal of Honor in World War II.
John Pinder is an American Badass
Thank you, John! 🫡🇺🇸
All humans have value. Our nation has grown soft, and violent men lacking discipline will always victimize their neighbors, lacking any other outlet.
Young men of all races who show signs of heightened aggression are easily identifiable from a young age. They need to be sequestered for special education and discipline, and they need to be prepared for a life of military service.
What we have now is a tragedy, first to the common man, but also to the aggressive man, who history gave a place, but the modern era does not.
We do not want to kill this spirit or genetic predisposition fully. It is useful for war, and it is critical for the space exploration we are on the verge of. We just need to recognize, like our ancestors did, that violent men are a valuable resource, which must be managed.
We need to conscript tens of millions, which lines up to immigrants and felons very well. You don't want this kid in your neighborhood, but defending a border or invading an enemy nation?