Jayshree Pillaye

Thank you. You gave an excellent transcript

@deepakdeepak thank you for sharing this important information. I wonder if we can get a transcript of his important testimony. Help please @HeldinEU

Source: France 24 share.google/8PjL3MZp5tk2r3…

🇮🇷 A supermarket in Iran has posted a handwritten sign on its door: "No worries, if you need something, take it. After the war, bring the money." The people of Iran are under bombardment, under sanctions, under economic collapse, and they are feeding each other.

🚨 BREAKING: 🇶🇦 Qatari Minister Lolwah Al-Khater to Trump and Netanyahu: “Stop speaking on our behalf. Stop using us as an excuse for your agendas. We don’t want you to ‘liberate’ us—we just want to be left alone. Stop fueling wars. It’s not our fault you failed in school and were educated by Hollywood—the world is not a movie.”

They said a house full of girls is empty… Today, mine is full of queens. 👑🤍 My husband looked at our four daughters and saw “liabilities.” One day he left, took our savings and disappeared, chasing a life where he believed a son would complete him. I was left with four little girls, including a 6-month-old. No support. No explanation. I cried… but when my child asked, “Mummy, will we eat today?” something in me changed. I did everything honest I could to survive, selling, carrying, washing—just to keep them fed and in school. People talked. I stayed focused. Years passed… Today I stood at the airport watching my daughters chase their dreams abroad on scholarships. And that baby he left behind? She’s becoming a lawyer. As for him… life moved on. But me? I raised four strong, brilliant women—and that’s my pride. To every mother raising daughters: You’re not lacking anything. You’re raising greatness. 🤍

Omg I'm dying. 🤣 Be honest… who’s really the best-looking parent: Mom or Dad?  This baby had ZERO chill answering that… and everything after is even wilder 😭  Watch till the end—you won’t believe what he said about cleaning day!" This is just too cute and funny not to share 🤣 H/T 🌟Nancy Hamm

Of everyone in the UK that Peter Thiel could choose to run Palantir UK, he chose Louis Mosley, grandson of violent British fascist Oswald Mosley—who had his wedding at Goebbels house so Hitler could attend. Louis is rarely seen without a black shirt. Palantir is Nazi cancer.

👋🙏 And the rest of the world abandons the people of Cuba because they fear a #Bully Shame on Europe

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

This young lady was called Phillis because that was the name of the ship that brought her, and Wheatley, the name of the merchant who bought her. She was born in Senegal 🇸🇳. In Boston, the slave traders put her up for sale: “She's 7 years old! She will be a good mare!” She was felt naked by many hands. At thirteen, she was already writing poems in a language that was not her own. No one believed that she was the author. At twenty, Phillis was questioned by a court of eighteen so-called enlightened White men in robes and wigs. She had to recite passages from Virgil and Milton and verses from the Bible, and vow that the poems she composed were not copied. From a chair, she underwent her lengthy examination until the court approved her: she was a woman, she was Black, she was enslaved, but she was a poet. Phillis Wheatley was the first African-American writer to publish a book in the United States 🇺🇸

The war in the Strait of Hormuz will reach your local pharmacy within six weeks. Not because your pharmacist follows geopolitics. Because the active pharmaceutical ingredients in roughly half of America’s generic prescriptions begin as petrochemical derivatives manufactured in India, and India’s petrochemical industry begins as crude oil that transited 21 miles of water that closed on March 4. Nearly 70 percent of the active ingredients in US generic drugs are produced in India. India imports approximately 40 percent of its crude oil through the Strait of Hormuz. The crude feeds refineries that produce naphtha. The naphtha feeds petrochemical crackers that produce intermediates. The intermediates feed pharmaceutical plants in Gujarat, Maharashtra, and Hyderabad that produce the API, the active pharmaceutical ingredient, that is shipped to contract manufacturers in the United States, Europe, and across Asia. The chain from the strait to the tablet is six steps long. Every step requires the one before it. CNBC reported that the Hormuz closure puts America’s generic drug supply at risk. Fierce Pharma warned of longer-term effects on US manufacturing and generics. Think Global Health mapped the pharmaceutical supply chains most vulnerable to disruption. The consensus across trade publications, health policy analysts, and industry executives is identical: four to six weeks of current inventory exists in the pipeline. After that, shortages begin with the most complex formulations first. Cancer drugs are the highest risk. Biologics requiring cold-chain storage have the shortest shelf life and the longest replenishment cycle. Clinical trial medications depend on uninterrupted supply chains that are now interrupted. Insulin analogues, antivirals, and cardiac medications all contain intermediates sourced from Indian manufacturers whose input costs are rising with every day the strait remains closed. Air cargo is the emergency bypass. But air freight rates from India have climbed 200 to 350 percent on some routes since the war began, according to logistics tracking firms. Gulf air capacity is down 79 percent because airports in the UAE, Kuwait, and Qatar have been damaged or operate under restricted conditions. The Suez Canal route adds 10 to 14 days to maritime shipping times. The Cape of Good Hope route adds 21 to 28 days. Both alternatives assume the Red Sea remains navigable, which the Houthi threat has complicated since 2024. The World Health Organisation reported a 70 percent funding gap for its operational response in the region. Medical supply chains to Iran itself have been devastated, with hospitals reporting shortages of surgical supplies, blood products, and anaesthetics. But the downstream pharmaceutical effect extends far beyond the war zone. Every Indian manufacturer that pays more for crude pays more for naphtha, pays more for intermediates, and passes the cost forward into API prices that American generic drug companies absorb until they cannot absorb any further. The molecule does not know it is a medicine. The strait does not know it is a pharmacy. The petrochemical derivative that becomes a blood pressure tablet transits the same water as the petrochemical derivative that becomes a fertiliser pellet. Both are trapped. Both have shelf lives. Both have planting windows or prescription refill cycles that do not negotiate with blockades. Six weeks. Then the pharmacy starts calling patients about substitutions. open.substack.com/pub/shanakaans…

Grace and peace to you on this International Day on The Elimination of Racial Discrimination. Let’s join hands to call out and #endracism, particularly its structural roots that permeate all aspects of life. UN declared it in1960 to to condemn the #Sharpeville massacre #RacismDay

Trump and Israel killed Parastesh in Iran. She wasn’t a fighter. She was a pharmacist, a University of Tehran graduate — a healer, not a combatant. Trump and Israel dropped bombs on her pharmacy, murdering her. This isn’t “liberation.” It’s terrorism.

This is Wouter Basson. Head of Apartheid South Africa’s chemical and biological weapons programme, named "Project Coast." He murdered black people. Because they were black. He poisoned anti-Apartheid activists. Because they wanted democracy. He developed chemical & biological weapons, toxins, poisons & nerve gases - all in contravention of international law - that were used by Apartheid forces in crowds of black people. He drugged & incapacitated freedom fighter detainees, and in Apartheid cross-border raids. He threw bodies off low-flying planes into the ocean to hide any trace of his heinous crimes against humanity. He ran covert Apartheid operations not reflected in the official programs of the state. The Apartheid government clandestinely funded Project Coast, stealing from the public purse. He committed fraud & theft going into the hundreds of millions (billions in today's money). He poisoned food, drinks & everyday household items. Wouter Basson is allowed to roam freely in a free South Africa, the country that he gleefully sought to remain unfree, as a bastion of white supremacy, & a beacon of inhumane tyranny. He is allowed to freely practice medicine, patroned by fellow racists who laud his horrific evil-doings. This is South Africa.

BREAKING: 🇫🇷🇮🇷 France’s most popular politician and Macron’s potential successor, Jean-Luc Mélenchon, leader of the LFI party announced support for Iran: “Iran is exercising its legitimate right to defend its sovereignty, its people, and its resources, after being subjected to blatant aggression.”

Your heart speaks through ECG waves ❤️ Learn the difference. Stay informed.

Remember Sharpeville

💔🇮🇷 Trump killed every child in this video. Every. Single. One. The schoolchildren of Minab Elementary.