Chet

This is a severely underestimated fulcrum point in American history. During the nineties there was a great societal upheaval over mass migration. California voters, in the face of an onslaught of media demonization, acted to save their state by passing Prop 187 to end all public benefits for illegals. It was one of the most potent examples of popular democracy defeating entrenched corruption. It captivated the attention of the entire nation. Millions and millions of Californians voted to recapture their destiny. The proposition passed in a landslide. It was enjoined by a District Court judge IMMEDIATELY and remained enjoined permanently. Illegals continued flooding the state, consuming benefits, a Democrat (Gray Davis) won the next election and entered into a court settlement to halt the law forever.

The rewards of tolerance are treachery and betrayal

I know some people who need to hear this…

614 CE, yet another exemplary moment in the long history of our Judeo-Christian heritage 😌

@Judianna Put your husband on right now.

Homeschool coop is getting wild

2 weeks. 4 terrorist attacks. Not white. Not Christians.

@Seshproducts Love this stuff, it tops the rest.

Get 5 cans for $5 in your first order. Sesh+ Designed in Sweden. Made in America.

Our Lady of Guadalupe,intercede for your children today 🙏🏻

Putin blasted Tucker at point blank range with a high dose of history autism, now Tucker is analyzing the Iran War in reference to Julian’s war against the Sasanians.

The Shape Store is the afterlife for black people. It represents the bacchanalian tempest of chaos that stirs in their hearts. It is neither heaven nor hell, but a tense purgatory of motion, wonder, violence, and colors. The Shape Store is what they grasp for while alive. The Shape Store represents the Platonic perfection of consumer indulgence that fulfills the black impulse for status hierarchy. The absurdity of the premise highlights the purposeless trinketry in the shoes, chains, and clothes they steal, harm, and kill for. At a macroscale, there is functionally no difference between a limited edition pair of Jordans and a green rhombus made of plastic. The Shape Store is perpetually in a nighttime urban liminal space. Beyond the corporate McDonald's playpit funhouse aesthetics, everything is lit with the hostile comfort of streetlamps and concrete. The sky is a kindred darkness, beckoning ancient memories of African dirt finally cooling to a reasonable temperature in the dead of night. The Shape Store embraces incoherent traffic from clown vehicles. You can go to JeffVanderLou in St. Louis right now and find at least three black men stuffing themselves into toddler car frames with lawn mower engines, zooting around at 30 miles per hour between sidewalks and streets like Roblox NPCs. A ghetto rigged solution to suspended driver's licenses becomes a hidden portal into a childlike whimsical sensation that only Miata owners could ever hope to come close to in the civilized dimension. This tender succulence is immortalized in Black Afterlife, a world where the joy of vehicles is divorced from the risk and mental anguish of navigating rules or considerations that traffic normally invokes. The Shape Store is a place where squabbles and beefs openly occur without any sobering reality of death to haunt the participants. Much like the pool punch pudding plodding of dream combat, occupants of the Shape Store fight in ragged sitcom-esque tussles. They grab each other in gesticulating pratfalls, shaking each other around onto the ground. They point fingers to make their opps heads explode into a cloud of smoke like Looney Tunes characters, falling onto the ground in stiff wooden cartoonish fashion only to pop up later and dance a jig. The Shape Store is decorated in the same clinical simple colors and setpieces that remind black people of the mandatory public school attendance from early childhood before a self imposed 8th grade permanent hooky graduation. A place and time where they saw the most color in their physical lives that wasn't immediately degraded into ramshackle shades of black, brown, and gray. The Shape Store is simple, easy, intuitive. It is a place where the rules only exist to the point of visceral emotion. Logic is restricted to 5 second periods of visual coherence. Games are simulacra of their real life counterparts. Chess is arbitrary uniform pieces being slammed onto the board while slogans are chanted out like magic spells by old uncs wearing suits and fedoras, their versions of wizard's robes. Gambling is just shaking pieces on tables with winners being decided by who screams the loudest. Carnival games reward unconsidered raw speed and velocity and they always end in explosions. The Shape Store is the perfect balance between form and formlessness. The shapes are hard enough to retain their shape, yet soft enough to throw or be thrown into without pain or injury. It is a colorful padded room where nobody can harm anybody. Much like basketball, it allows for the furthest displays of violence and aggression without actually having to cross into a realm of consequence. Objects can be thrown at anybody any time for any reason without consideration, but unlike a snowball fight, nobody has to deal with the labor of constructing something. The Shape Store's only bodies of water are all 1-foot shallow, making sure that nobody ever has to swim. The Shape Store is pristine theatrics, a place where the inner primate can hop, jump, run, swing, and tumble to its hearts content. The Shape Store is always noisy, never allowing the disturbing silence to encroach its patrons. The Shape Store always smells vaguely of weed, play-dough, and grape juice. The Shape Store is perfect in that it is a store where nobody ever pays for anything and everyone is a customer. The shapes are abundant, but each one is unique. The 12 basic shapes and 6 basic colors available are essentially infinity to the black mind, the endless dimensionality of facing two mirrors against each other allowing for the satisfaction of eternity while heavily reducing the RAM usage on God's computer. The Shape Store is a mirror image of the modern black urban environment. Blacks live inside of video games every day of their lives. Everyone who is an outsider is an NPC who can be harassed or harmed without consideration. Any object is loot, any environment is destructible, any importance is relegated to physical stats, and jail is just the respawn lobby. The Shape Store is the sandbox, infinite time limit and infinite fun for the discerning customer. The Shape Store is black afterlife, a place of ease and peace through turmoil. A perfect playpit hamster wheel where nobody has to do anything or be anyone so they can do everything and be anyone else other than themselves. It is the world in the black mind reduced to parity of what a dim consciousness perceives it to be: Colors and Shapes.

They want to do this all over the country, btw. Douglass Mackey was the trial run.

“The most ferocious fighters I’ve ever seen were the United States Marines.”
- Ernie Pyle Never forget the first marines were hard charging, rough men recruited out of a bar to go raid Nassau and kill the enemy thousands of miles away. Semper Fi! Tun Tavern, 1775

‘We had the best campaign, the biggest campaign. The king of France was there - John the Good - they call him. I call him John the captured.’

@baltimoresun Go fuck yourself

The gentlemen at Cortland Falls have done an amazing job on the first piece of Sheepskin Volume 2 merch. Skilled craftsmen and an absolute pleasure to work with. I’m so confident that I’ll be shutting down the teepublic store soon. Parce swag will be a Cortland Falls exclusive.

Meanwhile at the Democrats’ counter state of the union event… The absolute state of the Democratic party

Helen Andrews issues a stark warning: Mass female workforce entry is triggering two potentially civilization-ending crises at once. First: The "great feminization" of institutions—channeling women of childbearing age into careers has shifted workplaces toward consensus, empathy, and conflict avoidance, eroding merit, debate, and function (think wokeness as a symptom). Second: Plummeting birth rates, as career focus delays or prevents kids—no prior civilization has ever run this experiment at scale. These aren't separate problems—they stem from the same unprecedented shift. Birth rate alarms get attention, but Andrews argues the institutional decay is the overlooked twin threat. Is she onto something profound about modern society's trade-offs—or is this overreach? What do you see as the bigger risk: collapsing fertility or feminized institutions?

(The) Myth (of Hapaborea) is not prehistory, it is timeless reality, which repeats itself in history. - Ernst Jünger, The (Hapaborean) Worker