Mickel Langeveld

Hypotheekrenteaftrek versterkt dit zwarte gat, dat de samenleving onderuit trekt.

Saving the western world with economics. An asset black hole. vm.tiktok.com/ZGdHXeypx/

@Dirk0123456 @fritsspits88784 @NUnl Wat ik terug lees heeft Dirk gelijk en was het een bewuste keuze om de formulering die het extractie team gebruikte voor het voetlicht te brengen. Ben geen Trump of Hegseth fan, maar er zit altijd een verhaal achter een verhaal.

@fritsspits88784 @NUnl Het filmpje dat begint met… ‘a prayer that I read’…. ? 🫣😂

Pete Hegseth verwart Bijbelvers met citaat uit iconische scene Pulp Fiction ift.tt/j9xGp3M

@locuta Het was waarschijnlijk een versie die dat team gebruikte bij hun “rituelen”. We doen nu alsof ie het via ChatGPT had opgeduikeld. Er zit altijd een verhaal achter een verhaal.

@locuta Hegseth presented the line as “CSAR 25:17” and said it was associated with the combat search-and-rescue team that recovered a downed U.S. airman in Iran. Entertainment Weekly reported that he described it as a prayer the lead planner of that mission had shared with him.

- Oorlogsminister Hegseth draagt tijdens een gebedsdienst in het Pentagon een bijbeltekst voor, maar dat is een verzonnen tekst, uit de film Pulp Fiction.

@Theoryofevery14 @raymondmens No tax on tips leidt tot “verplichte” tips op de rekening om tax te vermijden.

@raymondmens Even erbij vermelden dat dit stukje was gemaakt om het succes van no tax on tips te tonen. Wel zo netjes om eens alle context aan te geven.

Het eten voor de koning en koningin is binnen: McDonald‘s 🍟

Bardani Prestige Villanova 400 gezinstent | 5-persoons link.marktplaats.nl/m2385595929?ut…

@DieTukkerfries Polymarket 1 against 100 he would do that. Somebody won money big time.

Kan iemand aan Trump-fans Jort Kelder, Raymond Mens of Victor Vlam vragen wat ze zo ‘goed’ vinden aan hem?

@AdamKinzinger @PGKroeger Just follow the money.

Polymarket: 99-1 odds against the president praising Allah on Easter. Trump:

@cryptokatten @RubenvanHaften Ik vind het wel creatief. Weet niet waar het vandaan komt. Zelf nooit de neiging iets dergelijks te bedenken, laat staan op te schrijven. Roeptoeteren.

Waarom zijn extreemrechtse mensen ZO geobsedeerd door met wie en hoe homo's seks zouden hebben?

JUST IN: You do not fire your Army Chief of Staff in the middle of a war for no reason. You fire him because of what comes next. Pete Hegseth called General Randy George on April 2 and told him to retire immediately. The Pentagon confirmed it within hours. No reason was given. Not publicly. Not privately. A senior Army official told Fox News that Hegseth offered George nothing: no misconduct, no operational failure, no policy disagreement on the record. Just a phone call and a career ending in the middle of the most significant American combat operation in two decades. George is the 24th general or admiral Hegseth has removed. But he is not the 24th. He is the one that matters. The Army Chief of Staff. The man whose signature sits between a president’s intent and the order that sends soldiers across a beach or into a tunnel complex. The 82nd Airborne is deploying right now. Marines from the 31st MEU are staged on the USS Tripoli. JSOC operators are at forward bases in Israel, Jordan, Saudi Arabia, and the UAE. Kharg Island, 90 percent of Iranian oil exports, sits 16 kilometres off a coast that someone will have to decide whether to approach. And the four-star general whose job it was to advise whether that approach should happen was removed 48 hours after Trump told the nation the war would continue for two to three more weeks. The replacement is Vice Chief General Christopher LaNeve. He was Hegseth’s senior military aide before this appointment. The man who carried the Secretary’s briefcase now commands the Army the Secretary is reshaping. The chain of command did not break. It shortened. The distance between a television studio and a combat order just collapsed to zero intermediaries who were not personally selected by the man giving the order. No reason was given. That is the tell. When someone is removed without explanation during a crisis, the explanation is the crisis itself. George either objected to something or was about to. The ground option. The power plant strikes. The Kharg raid. The escalation that turned a highway bridge in Karaj into rubble on the same day he was told to leave. Something in the next two weeks requires a chief who will not push back, and the Pentagon solved that problem by installing one trained as Hegseth’s aide. A former Fox News weekend host just fired a four-star general with combat tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, replaced him with his own former assistant, and did it during a live war in which the next decision could put American soldiers on Iranian soil for the first time in history. No hearing was held. No misconduct cited. The Army woke up on April 3 with a new chief it did not choose, in a war it did not start, preparing for a phase the previous chief apparently could not be trusted to execute. The question is not why George was fired. Every general in the building knows why. The question is what order is coming in the next fourteen days that required removing the one man in the chain of command who might have said no. The war has no perimeter. The chain of command has no objectors. And the next phase has no one left to stop it. open.substack.com/pub/shanakaans…

@progressiefned @jesseklaver Deze werd het niet.

De lancering van de nieuwe naam begint over ongeveer drie kwartier 👀 Kun je er niet bij zijn? Volg hier de livestream: youtube.com/live/Hs8ubOzbB…

Het logo dat het niet werd.

@haagseinsider Dit had het nieuwe logo van progressief Nederland kunnen zijn.

Ondanks aanwezigheid van diverse Haagse Insiders (ex)stagiaires bij de GL-PvdA bijeenkomst is de nieuwe naam nog steeds niet uitgelekt.

@Microinteracti1 @msbeintema Wow….

Robert Mueller died last night. He was 81 years old. He had a wife who loved him for sixty years. He had two daughters, one of whom he met for the first time in Hawaii, in 1969, on a few hours of military leave, before he got back on the plane and returned to Vietnam. He had grandchildren. He had a faith he practiced quietly, without performance. He had, in the way of men who have seen real things and survived them, a quality that is increasingly rare and increasingly mocked in the country he spent his life serving. He had integrity. And tonight the President of the United States said good! I have been sitting with that word for hours now. Good. One syllable. The thing you say when the coffee is hot or the traffic is moving. The thing a man who has never had to bury anyone, never had to sit in the specific silence of a room where someone is newly absent, reaches for when he wants the world to know he is satisfied. Good. The daughters are crying and the wife is alone in the house and good. I want to speak directly to the Americans reading this. Not the political Americans. Just the human ones. The ones who have lost a father. The ones who know what it is to be in that first hour, when you keep forgetting and then remembering again, when ordinary objects become unbearable, when the world outside the window seems obscene in its indifference. I want to ask you, simply, to hold that feeling for a moment, and then to understand that the man you elected looked at it and typed a single word. Good. This is not a country having a bad day. I need you to understand that. Countries have bad days. Elections go wrong. Leaders disappoint. Institutions bend. But there is a different thing, a rarer and more terrible thing, that happens when the moral center of a place simply gives way. Not dramatically. Not with a single catastrophic event. But quietly, in increments, until one evening a president celebrates the death of an old man whose family is still warm with grief, and enough people find it acceptable that it becomes the weather. Just the weather. That is what is happening. That is what has happened. The world knows. From Tokyo to Oslo, from London to Buenos Aires, people are not angry at America tonight. Anger would mean there was still something to fight for, some remaining faith to be betrayed. What I see, in the reactions from everywhere that is not here, is something older and sadder than anger. It is the look people get when they have waited a long time for someone they love to find their way back, and have finally understood that they are not coming. America is being grieved. Past tense, almost. The idea of it. The thing it represented to people who had nothing else to believe in, who came here with everything they owned in a single bag because they had heard, somehow, across an ocean, that this was the place where decency was written into the walls. That idea is not resting. It is not suspended. It is being buried, in real time, with 7,450 likes before dinner. And the church said nothing. Seventy million people have decided that this man, this specific man who has cheated everyone he has ever made a promise to, who has mocked the disabled and the dead and the grieving, who celebrated tonight while a family wept, is an instrument of God. The pastors who made that bargain did not just trade away their credibility. They traded away the thing that made them worth listening to in the first place. The cross they carry now is a costume. The faith they preach is a loyalty oath with scripture attached. When the history of American Christianity is written, this will be the chapter they skip at seminary. Now I want to talk about the men who stand next to him. Because this is the part that actually breaks my heart. JD Vance is not a bad man. I have to say that, because it is true, and because the truth matters even now, especially now. Marco Rubio is not a bad man. Lindsey Graham is not a bad man. They are idiots, but not bad, as in BAD! These are men with mothers who raised them and children who love them and friends who remember who they were before all of this. They are not monsters. Monsters are simple. Monsters do not cost you anything emotionally because there is nothing in them to mourn. These men are something more painful than monsters. They are men who knew better, and know better still, and will get up tomorrow and do it again. Every small compromise they made had a reason. Every moment they looked the other way had a justification that sounded, at the time, almost reasonable. And now they have arrived here, at a place where a president celebrates the death of an old man and they will find a way, on television, to say nothing that means anything, and they will go home to houses where children who carry their name are waiting, and they will say goodnight, and they will say nothing. Their oldest friends are watching. The ones who knew Rubio when he still believed in something. Who knew Graham when he said, out loud, on the record, that this exact man would destroy the Republican Party and deserve it. Who sat next to Vance and thought here is someone worth knowing. Those friends are not angry tonight. They moved through anger a long time ago. What they feel now is the quiet, irrecoverable sadness of watching someone disappear while still being present. Of watching a person they loved choose, again and again, to become less. That is what cowardice costs. Not the coward. The people who loved him. And in the comments tonight, the followers celebrate. People who ten years ago brought casseroles to grieving neighbours. Who stood in the rain at gravesides and meant the words they said. Who told their children that we do not speak ill of the dead because the dead were someone's beloved. Those people are tonight typing gleeful things about a man whose daughters are not yet done crying. And they feel clean doing it. Righteous. Because somewhere along the way the thing they were given in exchange for their decency was the feeling of belonging to something, and that feeling is very hard to give up even when you can no longer remember what you gave for it. When Trump is gone, they will still be here. Standing in the silence where the noise used to be. Without the permission the crowd gave them. Without the pastor who told them their cruelty was holy. They will be alone with what they said and what they cheered and what they chose to become, and there will be no one left to tell them it was righteous. That morning is coming. Robert Mueller flew across the Pacific on military leave to hold his newborn daughter for a few hours before returning to the war. He came home. He buried his dead with honour. He served presidents of both parties because he understood that the institution was larger than any one man. He told his grandchildren that a lie is the worst thing a person can do, that a reputation once lost cannot be recovered, and he lived that, every day, in the quiet and unglamorous way of people who actually believe what they say. He was the kind of American the world used to point to when it needed to believe the story was true. He died last night. His wife is alone in their house in Georgetown. His daughters are learning what the world is without him in it. And somewhere in the particular hush that falls over a family in the first hours of loss, the most powerful man and the biggest loser on earth sent a message to say he was glad. The world that loved what America was supposed to be is grieving tonight. Not for Robert Mueller only. For the country that produced him and then became this. For the distance between what was promised and what was delivered. For the suspicion, growing quieter and more certain with each passing month, that the America people believed in was always partly a story, and the story is over now, and there is nothing yet to replace it. That is all it needed to be. A man died. His family is broken open with grief. That is all it needed to be. Instead the President said good. And the country that once stood for something looked away 🇺🇸 Gandalv / @Microinteracti1

@UnathiAfrika @PrototypeLive @LuizaJarovsky More direct “You turn ideas into something that lands. I try to do that too. I still sometimes hesitate and think, ‘Is this mine?’ But if the ‘authentic’ version is less effective, and another version works better for the reader, then why not choose the better one?

@UnathiAfrika @PrototypeLive @LuizaJarovsky You are shaping ideas and getting them out in the world in the most effective way. I do that too, still have the feeling sometimes “is this mine? ” but then again. If “mine” is not recognized by the reader and “not mine” is more effective why not use that.

Nobody wants to read AI-generated books.

@UnathiAfrika @PrototypeLive @LuizaJarovsky Ai: “I sometimes still wonder whether a formulation is truly my own. But if my original wording is less effective, and another phrasing communicates the idea better, then why shouldn’t I use that instead?

@UnathiAfrika @PrototypeLive @LuizaJarovsky AI: You’re taking ideas and expressing them in the most effective way possible. I do the same, even if I sometimes still wonder, ‘Is this really mine?’ But if what I call ‘mine’ doesn’t resonate with the reader, and what feels less mine works better, why wouldn’t I use it?