AnaDeepBlue

Keep dreaming Sweet dreams 💙 She... ♥ youtu.be/53GIADHxVzM Img @jtnature

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

Em relação à minha opinião sobre a postura inequivocamente parcial da HFG não mudo uma vírgula. Não preciso de bajuladores, mimimi ou aplausos, nem de recorrer à IA para consolidar a validação da plateia. É simplesmente a MINHA opinião, quem gosta gosta quem não gosta, caguei.

Para esta mulher tudo é plausível e justificável desde que do lado de Israel. Podem terraplanar, invadir, ocupar, destruir, desalojar e matar civis, nada importa. Rejubila a cada avanço e as vidas inocentes perdidas pelo meio, seja onde for, serão sempre meros danos colaterais.

@___Jota___ @theluisribeiro Que a razão desconhece. 😏

@theluisribeiro Ela lá teve as suas razões 😂

Was it something I said?

@Antnio42407277 Obrigada também. 😊🫂

@AnaPRDeepBlue Igualmente Ana, obrigado 🫶🙌🌹🥰

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@Antnio42407277 Boa noite, António. Bom serão. 🤍

@AnaPRDeepBlue Boa noite Ana 🌹 Bonita flor

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@theluisribeiro Quem não lhe afaga o pêlo ao discurso leva block. Ela gosta é de aplausos, não suporta que a contrariem.

@confucius0101 @theluisribeiro @camalees @Felix_Nuno A xô D. Helena nem comenta na tv nem nada... pode acusar mundo e meio de antissemita só porque a conversa não lhe cheira mas não se aguenta à bronca com um "pousa o copo"? Podia ser pior porque a paciência tem limites. Sensibilidade não lhe falta mas só para o que lhe convém.

@theluisribeiro @camalees @Felix_Nuno Comentário muito infeliz sr Luís. Muito honestamente. E sinceramente. Pelo menos a malta que anda na televisão deveria ter mais sensibilidade. Deveria ...

Qualquer critica a Israel e somos anti-semitas. Curioso.

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@cateistweeting 23 anos não é nada para quem premeditou, assassinou e esquartejou uma pessoa.

23 aninhos para pensar no que fez.

Quero que o Kanye se foda. Quero lá saber de quem vai ou não vai, não vão às minhas custas nem sou eu que vou ferir os meus olhos nem os meus ouvidos ou perder tempo precioso da minha vida com o cromo. Don't give a shit to that shit.

@thekerukeion @FearedBuck How can you be so consumed by rage that you forgot your own child is being caught in the midlle?... i don't buy it.

She was likely defending herself against him. He probably started recording to make sure only that part was filmed after he started being abusive. It’s clear this is retaliatory and she’s not all there. Not excusing her behaviour but this is a classic move men use to gaslight women who are being abused.

ABC has canceled The Bachelorette after their lead was seen in a leaked footage physically attacking her ex-boyfriend and throwing metal chairs at him while her child was present and reportedly the child was struck during the altercation.

@dicasdalis @TextoCriativo Boring...

@TextoCriativo O algoritmo é lindo.

Eu disse à minha terapeuta: “Eu sinto que estou ficando sem tempo para construir a vida que eu quero.” Ela nem perguntou por quê. Ela apenas olhou para mim com gentileza e disse:

@TextoCriativo Enfim, grande seca...

@PauloAl94396053 @Gouveia Mas há quem ache piada a isto...

@AnaPRDeepBlue @Gouveia Ela devia ter respondido que todos nos lembramos das bombas atómicas.

Inacreditável. Uma criança ao leme da América

@OrosaOrosa @cortolemos Eu não conseguia sequer tocar com o pé no chão.

@AnaPRDeepBlue @cortolemos Foi uma coisa simples, em ambulatório. Comigo chegou aí porque não quis parar e ia sempre adiando.

Porra alguém quer uma fascite plantar?! Pqp de dor…