Donavon Noggle

Why does my Ring camera have IMAX footage of a raccoon demolishing last night’s pizza out of my trash… but a White House event looks like it was filmed on a cracked flip phone from 2007? We pay taxes for this?

Reminder: Rebecca Cooke scrubbed her website, which mentioned that she helped run Kirk Bangstad’s campaign, but we recovered the deleted website via the Wayback Machine. She’s tried to reposition herself as a waitress with a broken down car, not a left-wing political operative.

The thief on the cross was saved by the prayers of Mary. Everyone knows this.

In 1969, William Shatner’s career ended on national television. Not metaphorically. Not slowly. It stopped abruptly, with a network decision and a canceled time slot. NBC canceled Star Trek after three seasons of modest ratings. Executives who had never fully understood the show—and who had nearly ended it earlier before a fan campaign saved it, finally pulled the plug. The Enterprise’s mission ended early. And William Shatner, who had played Captain James T. Kirk with intensity and unforgettable pauses, suddenly had no role left. He was thirty-eight. Divorced. Financially struggling. And facing an industry that had little interest in an actor tied to a canceled sci-fi show many dismissed as a fad. Shatner found himself living out of a camper, traveling between small theater jobs that paid minimal wages. The man who once commanded a starship was now performing in regional productions, hoping audiences would show up. This was not the plan. Most actors would have left the industry and found stability elsewhere. Shatner didn’t. He doubled down. In the early 1970s, something unusual began. Fans of Star Trek started gathering - small conventions in hotel ballrooms, dismissed by mainstream culture as niche and strange. The industry mocked them. “Trekkies,” they were called. Most actors avoided these events. Shatner didn’t. He met fans. Signed autographs. Answered questions. Showed up when others wouldn’t. Because while others saw failure, he saw something different. Star Trek wasn’t gone. It was evolving. The show thrived in syndication. Viewers rewatched episodes, shared recordings, built communities, and kept the story alive. The audience was growing. By the mid-1970s, Star Trek had become something larger than television - a cultural force driven by its fans. And Shatner, who stayed connected, became its living symbol. Hollywood had overlooked it. The audience had not. In 1979, Paramount Pictures revived Star Trek as a feature film. Shatner returned and not as a fading actor, but as someone the audience had kept alive. The film succeeded because the fans showed up. They had waited. They had believed. And so did he. Years later, Shatner admitted something revealing: At first, he didn’t understand the fans. “I thought they were obsessed,” he said. Then he realized that they were sustaining him. They kept the character alive. The story alive. His career alive. They weren’t obsessed. They were committed. Shatner learned from them. He learned respect for audience passion. He learned reinvention. He adapted. He starred in T.J. Hooker. He took on new roles. He embraced self-awareness. He appeared in commercials that leaned into his persona, recorded music, and kept working. Then came Boston Legal. At seventy-three, he played Denny Crane, a role that blended humor and vulnerability, and won two Primetime Emmy Awards. The same style once mocked was now celebrated. He had never stopped evolving. And then - something unexpected. At ninety, Shatner went to space. On October 13, 2021, he flew aboard Blue Origin’s New Shepard rocket. The actor who once imagined space travel finally experienced it. He returned visibly moved, reflecting on Earth’s fragility, beauty, and significance. It completed a journey few could imagine. From struggling actor to cultural icon. From canceled show to lasting legacy. From fiction to reality. William Shatner didn’t just play Captain Kirk. He embodied the idea: exploration, persistence, and reinvention. He entered spaces others avoided - fan conventions, unconventional roles, unfamiliar paths, and turned them into opportunities. He proved that failure isn’t permanent, that audiences matter, and that reinvention is always possible. The fans once dismissed as outsiders were right. The story mattered. The vision mattered. And William Shatner learned to see it.They didn’t just preserve nostalgia. They preserved possibility. They kept something alive... and in doing so, they kept him alive too. That’s the story. Not just success - but understanding. Not just survival - but transformation. William Shatner played Captain Kirk for only three seasons. But he spent decades living the message: Keep moving forward. Keep adapting. Keep exploring. The mission continues.

First Lady Melania Trump has issued a statement demanding that ABC fire Jimmy Kimmel.

Lindsey Graham says they are going introduce legislation that’s going to authorize 400 million dollars to be spent on building the ballroom: We pay for it by offsetting it with customs fees. The sooner we get the ballroom built, the better it is for the country.