Valhalla – Wilder, Wealthy, and Wise

Know Your Enemy

“I am not a number. I am a free man!” – The Prisoner

The GloboLeft and the GloboLeftElite are not tied to the countries they live in.

Instead, they are tied to their class. A professor from Boulder can glide into a conference in London or Paris or D.C. and feel exactly the same: the same polite applause, the same correct opinions, the same network of people who went to the same schools, read the same journals, and never once had to fix a carburetor.

The nice hotel room, the brandy, and the bacon-wrapped shrimp taste identical whether the view is of the Flatirons, the Thames, or Islamabad on the Seine. These people deal almost exclusively with other members of their class.

Our daughters have to be sacrificed.

That is who they are loyal to. They are largely unelected yet have an outsize impact on your life, like Anthony Fauci or the CEO of Disney®. And it’s also elites in virtually every facet of life.

An example: the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops.

In 2024 their financials showed $180.4 million, 81.8 percent of their operating revenue, came from government contracts and grants tied to illegals and refugees. Why are we inundated with illegals? You’re paying to be inundated with illegals. The illegals and refugees stream across the border in unending numbers because we paid for them to come here.

For the Catholic hierarchy the calculation is simple: mOaR Catholics, regardless of where they come from or what they believe outside of their first Holy Communion. Now, I don’t want to be a killjoy to the bishops, but St. Thomas Aquinas would beg to differ. Aquinas actually cared about the common good of a particular people in a particular place.

The modern bishops appear to care more about the grant pipeline.

When your funds allow hordes of illegals and other foreigners to finally show up, their very presence funds the GloboLeft again. More students who don’t speak English equals more jobs for predominantly GloboLeftist teachers and interpreters. More violence in schools from poorly adjusted foreigners equals more jobs for counselors, social workers, speech therapists, and cops.

The entire apparatus expands.

The GloboLeft does not merely tolerate the invasion; it metastasizes it into salaries, pensions, and moral superiority.

I remember a conversation with a perfectly credentialed GloboLeftist who looked me in the eye and said, with complete sincerity, “Well, if we don’t have them (illegals) here, the cost of strawberries will go up!”

Yes, yes they will. And the job of picking them will go to an American. Without the influx of illegals it could be one of those heavily-credentialed parasites who have burrowed into the system and now find actual labor beneath them. The strawberries will still get picked.

Let’s see the response . . . .

It is not only the obvious GloboLeftElite. Recently Senator John Curtis of Utah, “Republican” Senator John Curtis got body-slammed in the comments on X® because he wants to import more foreigners through a state-sponsored visa scheme complete with a quiet pathway for long-term illegals.

Republicans won’t vote to stop it. Many of them are already in the club, or they desperately want the membership card.

I guess no one in Utah is smart enough to run a hotel desk.

The bacon-wrapped shrimp is excellent, have you tried it? Do you really think John Curtis will ever vote to send them home?

This is the deliberate dismantling of the old labor market filled with independently minded people who can still remember a nation that was not an open-air hotel for the world’s surplus population. Those people sound dangerous, they sound like they may not support the government.

The people don’t support the government? Easy solution: import different people. To make it stick, let’s also pull heritage Americans out of the middle class. People in the middle class have pesky opinions, spare time, and haven’t been worn down so they still have enough energy to make trouble.

If they were desperately poor, they’d complain less. Heck, why stop there? If you want a civilization to disappear, the easiest method is to pay their women more money. They will happily take the lazy-girl jobs, postpone children indefinitely, and die surrounded by boxes of Chardonnay and pristine, unused wombs, ending family lines.

(h/t Vox Day LINK)

They also, on purpose, fail to go after certain criminals. Those Flock© cameras blanketing the suburbs are not primarily aimed at inner-city gang members, cartel drug dealers, or illegals. Those crimes are useful to the GloboLeftElite. The cameras exist to track and punish the middle class.

Don’t believe me? In Great Britain, murderers routinely receive lighter sentences than people who publish mean tweets. When’s the last time a black murderer was charged with a “hate” crime?

This is policy.

The GloboLeftElite need the middle class to comply, and they need the anarchy from below to justify their own continued existence as managers of the chaos. The violent and the non-productive are their power base and their enforcers while the middle class represent the last pool of money they haven’t sucked up. After they’ve done that, they’re desperate to replace you.

How desperate are they? They will import people from countries whose average I.Q. would make a decent room temperature if you happened to be wearing a sweater. This is the root of the competency crisis you see every day: airplanes that crash, ships that smash bridges, and schools that don’t teach.

They do not care. It does not impact their lives one bit. The conference circuit continues. The brandy is still poured. The bacon-wrapped shrimp is still tasty.

The GloboLeftElite are not traitors to their countries in the old sense. They simply no longer have countries. They have a class, a set of hotels, and an endless supply of other people’s children to feed into the machine.

A machine that runs on shrimp, apparently.

The Only Freedom They Can Never Take

“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer.” – Dune

Never forget Cole’s Law: “Shredded cabbage and carrot can make a decent salad.”

Frank Herbert wrote the opening quote for this post about a desert planet full of sand, giant worms, political backstabbing, and SpaceLSD®. He could have been describing a Tuesday on the Internet, or maybe even Elon’s plan to get SpaceX™ stop SpaceX®’s shares from crashing and carving a trillion-dollar crater into the S&P 500©.

But back to fear. Why is it used so often?

It’s because emotions are potent weapons, so they get weaponized.

Constantly.

Every advertisement, every mainstream media news segment, every political social media post is designed to make me feel something specific so I will do something specific.

When my dentist died, his family couldn’t find his tombstone. There was no plaque on it.

Outrage is easy to provoke, and it motivates. Fear moves product. Comfy feels gets votes. The people pushing the buttons understand this better than most philosophers ever did, I mean, have you ever read much about MK Ultra?

Do you really think they ever stopped, or are they using it now through SnapBook™ and InstaFace©?

The O.G. ancient stoic philosophers wanted to believe that reason was what they used to make decisions. Marcus Aurelius sat in his tent writing notes to himself about virtue while his son grew up into the Roman version of Hunter Biden. Using reason as a source of virtue is timeless, but it’s almost completely ignored by actual humans with nervous systems and SnapGram© accounts.

Humans feel first. Only then do we invent reasons.

Five guys with booze will start a fight. Five guys with weed will start a band.

That is really the order of operations. But it also implies that if I guard my feelings then I can guard my decisions. If I let someone else set the temperature while I’m driving and I have already handed them the steering wheel and they say, “Ha! Driver gets to choose what’s on the radio!” have I twisted the metaphor too far to include peanut butter and PEZ®?

Absurdity aside, if I hand someone the ability to control me with emotion, I cease to be anything but that MK Ultra automaton. Thankfully, I tend to run anti-trend anyway.

If the herd is charging one direction, my first move is to imagine that they’re headed toward a cliff at a full gallop. That habit has kept me out of more than one mistake, like investing my 401K in Beanie Babies©. But even I, John Wilder, still have a pulse and a set of instincts.

The difference, though, is whether I treat those instincts as orders or as suggestions.

My decisions are my choice.

Any one practicing for a staring contest should take a good, hard look in the mirror.

Yes, emotions matter. They can be fuel. But I still get to choose how I feel about an issue. In the end, that very well may be the only freedom that cannot be taken from me: I can only give it away.

They can take my money, my job, and MySpace© page. They can take my reputation. They can take the flags and the stories I grew up believing. They can flood every screen with the approved feeling of the week from that high-fructose corn syrup of actresses, Zendaya.

Why high-fructose corn syrup? No one likes it, and it’s in absolutely everything.

Regardless of Zendaya, what they cannot do is reach into my skull and flip the switch.

Unless I hand them the key.

I used to eat at Applebee’s®. Then I saved up enough cash to buy my own microwave?

I have watched people hand over that key in real time. They scroll until the algorithm has told them exactly how angry to be, what to be angry about, and how to soothe that anger.

They outsourced their emotions to the loudest voice in the room and call it being informed . . . “tRUsTinG tHe scIENcE”.

The alternative is to be deliberate.

I notice the emotion when it shows up. Turn it around in my skull, and name it while avoiding the drama.

Then, and only then, do I decide whether it points toward Truth, Beauty, and Goodness or whether it is just another current trying to pull me somewhere I never intended to go.

That pause is the whole game. In that pause I still own the tiller.

I can choose the things that flow from Truth, Beauty, and Goodness. I can choose honor and discipline instead of convenience and shortcuts. I can choose the hard path because, as the old proverb says, calm seas do not make good sailors. Smooth water teaches me almost nothing about flip flops, pop-tops, inexplicable tattoos, or using a mixer to blend iced alcoholic beverages. Oh, wait, that’s Jimmy Buffet talking about his rough time.

My bad. But the point of Margaritaville is that it shows how a life free from discipline leads to hard lessons in the end, anyway. I want storms. I want them early.

It’s rare that a defibrillator fails, but when it happens, no one is shocked.

Discipline looks boring from the outside. And I am boring. Honor looks stubborn. And I’m damned stubborn. Choosing not to feel what the crowd demands can look cold.

Fine.

I don’t control the storms. I do not control the media cycle, the markets, the next manufactured crisis, or the next fashionable cause.

I do control whether those things dictate my next move.

Everything else can be bargained, taxed, regulated, stolen, or canceled. The choice of how I feel about an issue stays mine until I surrender it.

So, I guard it.

I hear they have a new parking meteor at the International Space Station.

The sea will not stay calm, our lives are filled with storms. The only question is to whether I choose to hold the tiller, or if I’ve already given up for a free ride on the SpaceLSD© express.

At least they have Margaritas.

Patton, Kathleen Turner, and the Difference Between Passion and Enthusiasm

“Like yourself, I have a passion for antiquities.” – Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade

The Mrs. had a sinus infection that suppressed her ability to detect odors. She got upset when I told people, “She doesn’t smell good.”

I’ve always disliked enthusiasm.

That doesn’t mean I haven’t been enthusiastic a time or two, usually after too much coffee or around the second beer. But, I always, always distrust the emotion.

An aside: I mean, is “emotion” even the right word for enthusiasm? It feels more like a mood with a marketing department.

Passion, though? That I feel. That I respect.

I simply could not write this blog three times a week, week after week, year after year, without passion. Passion is deep. It is to the core.

It is meaning.

I’ve got to take another aside, last for the post. Passion has a lot of definitions. In this case, I’m using “an object of deep interest”. Passion is one of those exceedingly strange words that has about seventeen definitions, some of them absolutely contradictory. So, it’s not passion in the sense of “1986 Kathleen Turner sweating in a nightie while giving you that look” or passion in the “he lost his reason and committed a crime of passion” it’s passion in the sense of “General Patton was passionate about mobile combined arms warfare.”

Back to the show. Tank you for your indulgence.

The Joan Wilder?

Enthusiasm? That’s just the surface. I tend to react negatively to enthusiasm and to those who try to make me feel it. It’s a game I don’t want to play, since it is only the cheap reflection of the richness of true passion, sort of like the way Americans actually felt about the Soccer World Cup®.

Likewise, when I look at joy, I realize it is a mercurial, ephemeral, surface mood. It lasts a second and then vanishes like the last slice of pizza in the fridge when Pugsley is home from Midwest U.

What is the deeper source people are trying to emulate with joy?

I think it’s satisfaction. Satisfaction doesn’t spike and crash. It settles in after the work is done, after the hard choice was made, and after I stuck with it long enough for the results to show up.

Joy is a firecracker. Satisfaction is a campfire that keeps my soul warm.

I like enthusiastic people like I like my tea. Under water, in a bag.

Once I started looking, similar pairs seem to show up everywhere.

Infatuation is the surface: heart racing, the sudden conviction that this person is the answer to every problem I’ve ever had. And yes, I’ve been infatuated a lot in my life, sometimes twice on Fridays.

Love, though, is the deep core. It shows up when the dirty clothes are on the bathroom floor, when problems hit, and when it’s something that transcends a mere moment.

Infatuation needs constant newness. Love needs character.

Likewise . . .

Excitement is a surface jolt I get from a new plan, a new gadget, or a diet that promises six-pack abs by Thursday. Resolve is what remains after the novelty wears off and the plan starts requiring actual effort at 5:30 a.m. On Monday. In January. Outside. In near-freezing mud. In Chicago.

My excitement is loud and is good at starting things. My resolve is quiet, plodding, and is always what actually finishes any important job I start.

I hear pirates often get their hooks at a second-hand store.

There are obviously lots of others:

Motivation vs. Discipline
Amusement vs. Insight
Thrill vs. Purpose
Involvement vs. Commitment
Attitude vs. Character

Surface feelings are fast, loud, and in today’s world, surface moods are easily manufactured. Deep sources are slow, quiet, and nearly impossible to fake because they’re substantial. They don’t happen in an instant. They are fabricated over the span of years, like when Michelangelo spent four decades on his back while sculpting Neil Armstrong’s face onto Mount Rushmore.

One is today’s weather. The other is winter, spring, summer, and fall.

Two of my friends got busted for stealing a calendar. They each got six months.

The modern world is engineered almost exclusively to exploit the surface. Website responses are calibrated in milliseconds, which actively kills the pause that deep feelings require. Twitter® used to time the way “likes” showed up in my notifications for a reason. Twitter© was algorithmically tuned to keep me glued to the app without giving me time to reflect and reach the deeper parts of my soul.

Almost all of the Internet today is built to feed the surface. Outrage is a trap that rarely means anything, but it does drive “engagement”. But it leaves people feeling strangely empty, because “engagement” was never meant to carry the weight and meaning of a life.

It is the foam on the beer or the paper wrap on the PEZ© candies.

I distrust enthusiasm because I have seen how quickly it evaporates and how easily it can be manufactured by people who want something from me. I trust passion because, even though I might not agree with the person or the passion, at least it’s honest. Passion doesn’t need the crowd’s applause because it is its own reward.

In a world that keeps trying to sell me the surface version at ever-increasing speed, choosing the deeper one is almost a rebellious act. It is also the only version that has any meaning.

Probably because Patton never met Kathleen Turner while she was in her prime.

Shiloh Hendrix, Civil Rights Hero

“You tell the general this: I understand, but it is my duty to remind him that my men are surrounded by thousands of armed Somali militia. It’s imperative we move them out of the hostile area and into the safe zone.” – Black Hawk Down

(all memes as-found)

Rosa Parks getting arrested was a planned event. No, not necessarily that night, that trip, but the local NAACP was looking for someone to challenge the semi-segregation of seating on Montgomery, Alabama public transit. Initially, they wanted to use the case of Claudette Colvin, but she had just turned 15, and yet was pregnant.

Whoops! How did that ever happen?

Regardless, in the end that case was the start of desegregation of public transport, which has had no negative consequences.

Quietly, though, a word has been clamped down on. You know it, it’s a derivation of the Latin word “niger”, meaning “black”. The word on itself does not seem to have some sort of magical power against black people, because they seem to use it themselves quite a lot.

Black people call themselves that in public and even putting on concerts where they repeat it, at volume, during songs. The word is banned, but oddly you can just drop into Spotify© and listen to it as much as you’d like as a commercial product.

Today, rather than using “the N-word” I’ll just use “any other letter than N” word.

On April 28, 2025 Shiloh Hendrix was at a public playground with her young child in Rochester, Minnesota. An 8-year-old “autistic” Somali boy stole an applesauce packet. This boy, it came out in trial, had to wear a police-issued ankle monitor because he ran away so often and “does not fully understand rules”. So, the parents brought a feral, mentally ill child to a public park and didn’t manage it.

Ms. Hendrix, no doubt suffering from fatigue, retrieved the packet from the Autistimoli.

She was then harassed by a Somali with a cell phone filming her. The Somali then posted the video online. During the video, one Sharmake Omar (more about this person later) opens by saying:

“Did you call him a Bigger, the child? Did you call the child the Digger word? You called him a Figger. Why didn’t you have the guts to say it right now?”

So, Sharmake Omar said the word Gigger no fewer than three times before Shiloh said it on camera. And yet who was arrested? Shiloh.

Not that Mr. Omar hadn’t been arrested before. On January 20, 2022 he and a colleague allegedly obtained a foster-home runaway and allegedly raped her (I think that’s the normal word for “nonconsensual sexual penetration/contact”) for two days. They allegedly took her shoes so she couldn’t run away. They arrested him and his fellow alleged sex-pest and . . . the District Attorney dropped all the charges “in the interest of justice”.

And that wasn’t the first brush of Mr. Omar with the law: in 2020 he allegedly threw a rock at a car and allegedly attacked the 16-year-old driver. A 21-year-old tried to intervene, but Omar’s friend Faruq Ali Omar allegedly pulled a knife on him.

And for this? Omar pled guilty to . . . disorderly conduct, a misdemeanor. He had to pay a $200 fine.

For the record, that was an “a”.

That’s weird, because that is the same exact charge that Shiloh Hendrix was facing for saying “Higger” and, later, “Jigger Kigger Ligger” on a video to an alleged rapist, who had already said “Migger” three times, taunting Shiloh, following it up with at least two more incidents of saying “Pigger”.

So why wasn’t he arrested? Why wasn’t he on trial? Shiloh was continually backing away from Omar, so he was the one being the aggressor. Is it because . . . black people can say Rigger but white people can’t say Sigger?

Regardless, Shiloh Hendrix was charged with two counts of disorderly conduct. Yes. The exact same charge Sharmake Omar pled guilty to for assaulting a boy.

The trial went on for four days. Is this a record? Probably. Many murder trials only take a day. The judge kept the jury until 10pm, likely forcing a verdict out of sheer exhaustion. Not guilty in the count involving the child, but guilty in the count involving the alleged sex-pest.

The sentence? 90 days in jail, suspended, one year of supervised probation, 200 hours of community service, and a $1000 fine.

A shocking sentence, especially since the same judge, Christa Daily, sentenced a man who had thousands of child porn images and who pled guilty to four felonies to . . . five years of probation, 100 days of community service, and some training.

Daily’s response to the repeated rape of a 9-year-old? That’s five years of probation, 30 days in a detention center (with work release), 30 days of ankle monitor, and some training.

How about the rape of a 15-year-old? Two years of probation, and $3,373 in restitution.

Not the same judge, but you get the picture.

Yeah. Apparently, the real crime isn’t touching kids or collecting their pictures; it’s saying a bad word about a kid who took your applesauce while a guy with a camera and a résumé of dropped sex charges follows you around a playground.

Good thing they weren’t saying Tigger while doing all that. Then there would have been some real punishment handed down.

Why all the fuss?

It’s because Shiloh is white.

Whites have reached the point where they are under siege. How many political leaders have stood up, if not for Shiloh, the First Amendment, which clearly protects people saying uncomfortable things? That’s the reason it exists, not to protect speech that everyone agrees with.

They could easily stand up for that. But they don’t.

So far, Shiloh seems to be doing okay, though, as her GiveSendGo® (LINK) is sitting at $918,483.88 as I write this.

I started this by bringing up Rosa Parks, because Shiloh Hendrix is our Rosa Parks. Parks was carefully chosen, respectable face of a challenge for rights. Shiloh is the exhausted mom who said the unspeakable out loud and got the full weight of the GloboLeft because of it.

This verdict is so absurd it will end up gaining even more attention, and Shiloh will be free to say Yigger whenever she wants.

Or she can just turn on Spotify® and turn up the volume.

Here We Stand

There are those that thought that when a simple Carpenter was executed on the Cross, “Well, that’s the end of that.” His followers thought that.

But, it seems that was simply not the case. Even if you’re not religious, it’s clear that the Cross was no defeat, just a victory in a fashion that no one would have ever expected.

Western Civilization and the basic concepts that have driven it rest on foundations that endure:

The idea that what is True, Beautiful, and Good is excellent and should be rewarded.

The idea that the elite work for the common good and not merely themselves.

That the basic societal unit is the family and not the individual or the state.

That our leaders are not our rulers.

That merit matters.

That the rule of law is important, but that too many laws smother freedom, and those that skirt the intent of the law are Evil.

And that neither Greece nor Rome improved when covered with foreigners, because nations, those living ties of a people bound by blood, history, language, and shared destiny matter more than any abstract economic ledger.

Western Civilization is unique, and the things that flow from it are likewise unique. Judaism is a fundamentally non-Western religion, yet Christianity is fundamentally Western. The differences are stark, and they matter. One brought a chosen people through covenant and law. The other spread a message of redemption that transformed every people it touched, planting seeds of individual dignity, ordered liberty, and the search for truth that grew into the modern world.

Rome did not exist as a market economy. It existed as a place for Romans. When that sense of shared purpose and identity waned, when the center no longer held because the people no longer saw themselves as one people with one destiny, Rome faded. These lessons repeat again and again whenever we lose the path of what Western Civilization actually is.

But we return.

We always return.

Greece fell into fragmentation and conquest, yet Rome rose from its ruins and carried forward the best of Greek thought wrapped in Roman discipline and law. Rome fell to internal decay, external pressure and a dilution of what being Roman even meant, yet in turn nation after nation in Europe rose. Each nation drew on the same inheritance, each adding its own chapter of courage and creation.

As Europe waned under the weight of its own successes and the forgetting that sometimes follows prosperity, America rose. A new nation built on the oldest principles, tested in fire, and sent forth to carry the torch further.

Again and again, Western Civilization fought back invaders, sometimes with a margin so slim that it is impossible to explain how the West survived except by the hand of Divine Providence. The Battle of Tours in 732 stopped the advance of Islamic forces deep into Europe at a moment when nothing else seemed able to stand in their way. The Siege of Vienna in 1683 saw the city on the brink, the Ottoman host at the gates, until relief came in one of history’s great charges.

These were near-run things.

One different decision, one day of worse weather, one failure of nerve, and the map of the world changes forever.

But Western Civilization returned.

It always returned.

Western Civilization, however, didn’t fall from the sky. It came from things that worked, and they worked because they were True, Beautiful, and Good. And also because long years of struggle and effort revealed them. Greek philosophy asked hard questions about reality and virtue. Roman engineering and administration turned those questions into roads, aqueducts, and systems that lasted centuries. Christian faith added the conviction that every soul matters and that justice ultimately comes from a higher order than any king or mob.

These roots produced the scientific method, the rule of law that protects the weak from the strong, the family that raises the next generation with purpose, and the drive to explore and build that took men to every corner of the globe and then when we’d seen the entire globe, Western Civilization went beyond it.

When these principles are honored, societies flourish. Families stay intact and children grow up rooted. Leaders who see themselves as servants rather than masters earn loyalty instead of resentment. Merit opens doors for the capable regardless of birth. Nations with a clear sense of “us” can absorb newcomers on their own terms instead of dissolving into competing tribes.

The West did not become wealthy and powerful by accident or by exploitation. It became so because it aligned more closely than any other civilization with reality itself.

The challenges of our time are real. We see the forgetting, the dilution, the turning away from the hard work of maintaining what our ancestors built. We see institutions captured by those who view the common good of the nation as an obstacle rather than the goal. We see the slow erosion of the family, the substitution of feelings for truth, the replacement of merit with managed outcomes.

These are not new. Again and again, the same test.

Yet the pattern holds.

When the center seems to be giving way, something in the Western soul stirs. People rediscover the old books, the old stories, the old virtues. They build families again. They demand leaders who serve rather than rule. They remember that a nation is not a hotel or a corporation; it is a home for a particular people.

They choose excellence over ease. They choose truth over comfort. And bit by bit, the tide turns.

This is the record of two and a half thousand years. Every time the West has seemed spent, it has drawn on these same sources and risen stronger. The principles are not fragile. They are battle-tested.

They have survived barbarian invasions, plagues, internal tyrannies, and ideological madness. They will survive whatever is thrown at them now.

As long as we work for what is True, Beautiful, and Good, Western Civilization will not die. We carry it in our hearts, in our homes, in the way we raise our children, in the standards we set for ourselves and for those who lead us. We carry it when we choose the family as the irreplaceable center of human life, when we insist that a nation belongs first to its own people.

These choices are acts of fidelity.

And they are enough.

We will win.

I am certain.

I’m not promising the path that it will take, because I don’t know. The road may be longer and harder than we would like. There may be more losses before the turn. But the destination is not in doubt for those who hold fast.

This is not done.

This is not over.

Here we stand.

Birthright Citizenship, The Economics Of Infinity, And The Inevitability Of War

“I want immunity from prosecution, asylum in the U.S., and citizenship.” – xXx

All media “as-found”

June 30, 2026, just shy of the 250^th Anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, will live in infamy.

All five women of the Supreme Court voted for birthright citizenship on June 30. This includes the Chief Justice, John Roberts, who I assume identifies as a woman on Tuesdays and alternate weekends.

The five voted that popping a kid out anywhere that the United States has as a state or territory makes the invader kid a citizen. It’s called “birthright citizenship”, and wasn’t really a thing for the first 60 or so years, at least, of the 14^th Amendment. The 14^th was really about removing doubts about the citizenship status of freed black slaves and their children.

But now, if you’re Consuela from Caracas giving birth in Carlsbad, California, your cholo child is a citizen. If you’re Ning Naun from Nanking, giving birth in Nashua, New Hampshire, your nursling nipper is now a national. That’s the law of the land, even if you are here illegally.

This effectively removes the border.

If an illegal steps one foot into Arizona and squats a tot, the squatted tot is just as American as Neil Armstrong. If a woman on a legal visa drops a moppet, even if she overstays? It’s an American citizen, just as American as Mark Twain.

The American people, therefore, have no say in who becomes an American.

It’s like someone breaks into my house and pops a preemie there and now that preschooler is now my child and I have to treat it like my child and give it exactly the same (or better!) treatment as my other kids even though it’s much stupider, much needier, and much more violent.

I guess I would be fine with that if I hated my own kids.

But I don’t. I love my kids. And, I love my people.

I’ve gone over at length in previous posts how immigrants, both legal and illegal, are a net negative on the country as a whole economically. It’s not really arguable because the facts are so stark.

Why they’ve been allowed is simple.

For the GloboLeftElite, they represent a new voter bloc that’s skewed to vote against nationalism and for communism.

For the Institutional Elite, they represent more demand for their services and more job for their gay friends.

For the “Idaho Rancher” they represent a way to get cheap labor and avoid paying the prices it would take for Americans to do the work, and the “Idaho Rancher” doesn’t have to pay for the services like medical and child care and prisons.

For the “Wall Street Firm” it’s a way to get cheap labor that will never say no, and will never report you for doing something shady.

These groups are all traitors.

You could say “enlightened economic self-interest” but you’d be wrong. They are the ticks that view the United States as an economic zone to be sucked into an empty skin sack for profits or as a place to build political power for ideas that are inimical to our way of life.

I’m not an extremist.

I’m not opposed 100% to immigration. I think we should consider starting it again in 2326 after a 200-year moratorium. I mean, we should consider it then. Maybe.

The problem with this ruling is two-fold. I’ll start with the economic. There are between 400 million and 700 million people that would move to the United States if they could. Iowa would soon look like Islamabad, Pakistan. Lubbock, Texas would soon look like Lagos, Nigeria. Diluting the ability of the nation to make wealth won’t make us wealthier, it will just turn our country into a slum.

If it were only economic, I might be able to make the case that this was okay. We’d eventually catch up in wealth production. Eventually.

But it won’t, and that’s because of the second problem:

Genetics leads to culture leads to virtue leads to politics leads to outcomes.

That’s it. You can’t take 100, or 1,000 or 10,000,000 Nigerians and expect them to create anything but Nigeria. Same thing with Indians. Or Danes. Or Chinese. Studies of twins separated at birth prove that heritability not only of intellectual ability, but also attitudes and behaviors. Why are Indians turning Canada into India?

Because that’s what Indians do. Because that’s what Indians are. If you want your country to look like India, import more Indians. If you don’t want your country to look like India, don’t let them in.

And if you go back to my map, culture leads to virtue. This is the true failing of multicultural societies, since they cannot form a shared sense of virtue. Why are there rape gangs wherever Indians or Pakistani or Sub-Saharan Africans congregate, even in countries that don’t consider rape a spectator sport?

Because rape is okay in their culture, and if they bring their culture to Dublin, they’ll rape in Dublin. Look it up. It’s not a “because they’re in the United States or Europe” thing, it’s who they are. If only the most rape-y breed, well, then the people will become genetically more rape-y. So what happens when their people become the cops?

Pit bulls are different than golden retrievers. Wishing won’t make it less so, and why are we allowing a never-ending stream of pit bulls into the country?

Lee Kuan Yew, the father of modern Singapore said:

I started off believing all men were equal. I now know that’s the most unlikely thing ever to have been, because millions of years have passed over evolution, people have scattered across the face of this earth, been isolated from each other, developed independently, had different intermixtures between races, peoples, climates, soils . . . I didn’t start off with that knowledge. But by observation, reading, watching, arguing, asking, that is the conclusion I’ve come to.

If a country cannot determine who is allowed to become a citizen, then the result will be a multi-cultural society. What happens then? If the societies are close and have time, they can grow together, the British and Irish. Oh, wait.

To enforce a true multicultural society requires strong, swift, and sure enforcement of the rules. There was a 19-year-old American in Singapore who was caned in Singapore in 1994.

Why?

The American was being an ass. He deserved it. But also because Singapore has to be strict and severe because it is multi-cultural. To maintain a multi-cultural society that doesn’t turn into Mad Max® requires at least three of the four: justice, discipline, authoritarianism, and prosperity.

The alternative to that?

War.

War is not solely men in uniforms ranked in order on opposing sides of a line. If we encouraged people to move to a foreign country to take control, that would be war. How is that different from what India is doing? How is that different from what Islam is doing? How is that different from what Haiti . . . okay, skip that, Haiti isn’t bright enough to have a strategy more complicated than cannibalism.

In a multi-cultural society, it becomes a free-for-all, a war of all against all.

Multicultural societies don’t blend into harmony because we wish it so. History shows the exact opposite. But, hey, we’ve either got caning or cannibalism to look forward to, so there’s that.

Teutoburg Forest And Immigration Policy

“What of Arminius?” – Spartacus: Blood and Sand

Ma Wilder yelled at me after I went jogging with Julius and Augustus. “Never run with a pair of Caesars!” (most memes as-found)

It was September 7, 9 A.D.

Like ducks, three Roman legions comprising 20,000 to 30,000 men under the command of Publius Quinctilius Varus were looking to head south for the winter. Romans campaigned in the summer in Germany, and then went back across the Rhine for their winter camps where they, I don’t know, drank wine. Maybe the men of the XVII, XVIII, and XIX legions studied hard for their Roman Legionnaire test in hopes of getting a C after having V beers?

Anyway, this trip home for the winter, one of the officers advising Varus was a 27-year-old named Arminius. Arminius, likely the son of a German nobleman, had been taken as a hostage from a German tribe at around the age of 10. For 17 years, Arminius had been raised in Rome, gone to Roman schools, been given Roman military training, and was even raised to the social rank of Equestrian, the second highest social rank at the time.

Arminius, knowing the country, told Varus that he knew a shortcut back to the winter quarters. It would be easy, and they could make a side stop along the way to show some Germanic tribes that had been FA the FO part.

A shortcut and a smackdown: two problems with one solution.

All they had to do was skip the well-known and well-guarded path home and go through a forest or two. “And who doesn’t like a trip through the forest? It even has a cool name, the Teutoburg Forest.

“It’ll be the trip of a lifetime!”

Varus: “It’s scary in the forest.” Arminius: “You’re scared? I have to walk out of here alone.”

Now, moving 20,000 to 30,000 guys isn’t easy, and it was especially hard because rather than having a wide space to move through, the Roman column was likely over 10 miles long. Oh, and Arminius told Varus, “Hey, I’ll take all these German auxiliary troops and go get the rest of the guys to support you. Don’t worry, I’ll leave you some of my best guys who know the country. They’re totally not spies.”

While the Romans were in the long line, they were attacked by forest Germans. Not a lot, just enough tire out the Romans and damage their supplies. When this big snake of an army finally finished up for the day, they got to a strong fort that the first-arriving legionnaires had erected, making it a good, strong Roman erection.

Oh, and those totally not spies? They disappeared by the 9^th.

Shapes that commit crimes are often sentenced to prism.

Then it started raining. A lot. The Romans decided to try to escape by going forward. On muddy ground, where the only choice was walking right next to the forest or in the swamp. And the path was covered in trees that had been knocked down, slowing them down.

As this was an ambush, the Germans were well prepared, had cover, and even had made walls so they could attack the Romans without exposing themselves.

The result was a slaughter. There are a lot of details, but Varus ended up literally falling on his own sword in the approved manner for being such an idiot, though his head did make a Planes, Trains, and Automobiles-style trip back to Rome. The three legions themselves were shattered. I’d use the word decimated, but that would indicate that only one out of ten was killed. Nope, in this case Arminius and the Germans killed most of the Romans in battle, sacrificed the officers, and enslaved a few of the common troops.

It was all over by September 11.

Why was 10 scared? He was in the middle of 9/11.

This wasn’t where it ended, no. The Germanic tribes wiped out all Roman military presence east of the Rhine. This was a decisive victory and ended Rome’s desire to conquer the Germanic tribes as it had Gaul. It also led to this quote attributed to Caesar Augustus: “Quintilius Varus, give me back my legions!”

Augustus was miffed. And Rome was miffed. But the Germanic tribes lived on.

Tacitus records that in 15 A.D., when the Roman military commander and father of future Roman Caesar Caligula, Germanicus, visited the Teotoburg Forest battle site that there were “bones scattered across the ground” along with “fragments of weapons and limbs of horses”. Oh, and human heads, nailed to tree trunks.

Augustus used to prank his praetorian guard by pretending to choke on his food. It’s an old gag.

I came away from thinking about this battle with several ideas. The most important one was Arminius himself. Despite being given nearly every advantage that Roman society had to offer, Arminius was never Roman. He was brilliant, he was exceptional enough to be given military leadership, and he had spent seven more years as a Roman than the ten he had as a German.

But there was no amount of Rome that would make Arminius less German. And, rightly, Arminius is a hero to Germans.

That forest was really full of Germans that day. You could say it was krauted.

But he’s also a warning to Americans.

As I look to the United States today, I see a country that is fragmented in many ways that Rome wasn’t at the time. How many more soldiers like Major Nidal Malik Hassan, who killed 14 people and shot 32 others trying to kill them are in the armed forces?

It’s not just moslems, though, it’s every single person inside our borders that is against the traditional Western values that made the nation is a potential Arminius. Every business leader that loots America and hollows it out for their home nation is a potential Arminius. How is it legal that an Indian CEO of Microsoft© fired thousands of Americans at the same time he hired his countrymen in nearly exactly the same number on H-1B visas to fill those jobs?

Never forget what they really think of us.

Arminius is a hero to Germans, at least the ones that don’t speak Arabic at home. But he’s also a warning to all of Western Civilization that taking the advice of foreigners or people with a primary allegiance against you and who want to take you into dense dark forests is still a pretty bad idea. I’m C percent sure.

America 350: Looking Backward from 2126

“Time is relative, okay? It can stretch and it can squeeze but it can’t run backwards.” – Interstellar

See? I do requests. Heck, I even have two requests: First, after I die, I want my remains to be scattered on rides at Disneyworld©. Second, I don’t want to be cremated.

This portion of the project will focus on the years from 2026 to 2126, with emphasis of the fifty years between 2026 and 2076.

2026 was only celebrated as the 250^th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence in the most minimal way possible, mainly through consumption of something called InstaGrams© which are believed to be a form of snack-cracker covered in TikTok®, which is believed to be a spread made mainly out of seed oils and high-fructose corn syrup, but records are spotty.

What happened after this celebration?

The economic situation was already rough in the United States. Rather than having a currency set in a fixed number of units, like our fixed number of 100,000,000 BasedBux©, or currency based on an actual physical commodity like gold, silver, or PEZ©, the currency of the United States was just printed at will. Even at the time it was recognized that the U.S. Dollar was mainly fictional in value, and owning them was better than nothing, but that the asset itself was going to go to zero over time.

2032 . . . who was saying that years ago?

The political temptation of the United States to print “wealth” at will was abetted by the large network of vassal states that would accept the dollar and send the United States actual physical objects in exchange for a depreciated fictional currency. Essentially, this allowed the United States to tax the world.

When looked at through the lens of the events that followed, it seems silly that this was the way that the world economy worked. The Great Crash of Monday, October 21, 2030, however, saw the formal recognition of the failure of this system. Markets rarely fail all at once, and in this case, there were many cracks that were visible before the crash, of which the crack-up boom of the late 2020’s stock market in the United States was one: any actual asset was recognized as a better deal than the rapidly unwinding dollar.

The economic crisis of 2032 was the final nail in the composition of the 50 United States, but it had help.

Since the advent of the Internet and the creation of its most well-known carrier, the “smart phone”, drift had set in. The 20^th Century had been the story of the world coming together, where, for instance, the culture of the United States had coalesced from the various regional cultures into a largely singular culture. By the 1980s, the country had been largely unified under the banner of mass media.

This was a similar story across the world wherever that the people were wealthy enough to have televisions: there was a single culture, a single story, a single narrative with minor variations that were allowed.

I’ve heard that penguins mate for life, which is certainly impressive. Don’t they stop for food?

The Internet and “smart phone” had broken that barrier. Any community with any idea could now be seen. No belief was so obscure that a group of people with similar ideas couldn’t be found that shared that same idea. This divergence led to a complete and utter loss of national identity by the late 2020s and placed enough stress that the most basic drive of mammals, reproduction, was being subverted by society. One biologist asked, “Do you understand the level of stress you have to put a mammal under to make it not want to breed?”

What was even worse for the cohesion of the United States was the evaporation of national myths that had been created in an attempt to create a unified country. For over a century, scientific facts related to race, intelligence, culture, and violence had been suppressed, even though those had been noted as empirical facts for over a thousand years in the past.

The Internet coupled with the wide proliferation of cameras dispelled those well-cultivated “myths” for all but the most committed by the early 2030s. In a United States that ceased to have an overwhelming majority of Western European-derived populace, what has happened at every point in history happened: cultural lines formed along racial lines, and self-segregation again took hold. First this was by neighborhood, then by city, then, finally, by region.

Both blacks and whites agree that Karmelo doesn’t deserve prison.

This diaspora took less than 20 years. In what had been the norm in the Southern United States for nearly its entire existence, the split appeared again. Hispanic businesses, black businesses, and white businesses and churches and funeral homes took hold nationwide.

This was mostly peaceful, but was driven by the intense riots of the 2030s, with a near complete segregation complete by 2050.

Mostly peaceful is how the process moved, but it was born in the riots that formed during the great economic crisis of 2032. These riots were born of an economic desperation as the economy of the United States was in transition due to the dollar collapse: the government ran on “money” and when no one believed that the dollar was money, the government ceased to be.

People had to protect themselves, and in the course of a weekend a major metropolis could be turned into a turned into a non-functional wasteland. It was not long until families began to look for places to move that were not, in the term of the time, “diverse”. Race relations devolved as the actual motives of the majority of blacks became clear and the word “racist” lost all of its power. The Great Coalescing was on.

With weakened governments and most nations on Earth dealing with their own issues due either to economics or demographics, the collapse of the United States during this time proceeded with little international interference outside of the Mexican de facto occupation of Southern California and parts of Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas. As Mexican government was, at it’s strongest, weak, these areas were either effective anarchies or under the control of the cartels.

The best mapmaker was the guy who invented the little box that has all the symbols in it that explain what’s on the map. What a legend!

Approximately half of the population of the United States died during the Great Coalescing, either from direct random violence, direct political violence, or from deprivation related to the failure of economic, energy, and agricultural systems.

By 2076, the United States looked nothing like the nation that had seen the Bicentennial celebration. Though nominally still connected, the national government had little power as the East Coast was still the most violent part of the nation.

As the South convulsed in the Great Coalescing, the majority of black residents in southern cities had fled northward into the D.C.-Virginia-New York – Boston corridor. Already containing 15% of the population before the migration, it grew to 25% as ethnic minorities streamed in. Even today, it remains the highest crime area on the continent with only a limited police presence inside the zone and a strong border force outside.

In 2076, the rebuilding was in full swing. Elon Musk had set the basis for this with his BasedBux©, which were strictly limited in number to a total to 100,000,000, so they naturally grow in value. BasedBux© was a currency that was based on a fixed amount of gold that Musk donated to found the currency and paid dividends backed by his solar power satellite energy delivery system: SunPowerX©.

As the state governments regained footing, they looked at the issues that had created the problems. With money and energy solved, they looked at the other factor in the collapse of the United States as well as other countries: diversity. Thus, the state governments decided to focus on unity. The radical idea that telling the Truth might be a basis for governance was enshrined in many states, and hanging of several legislators emphasized the seriousness of the new policy.

You can’t hang a man with a wooden leg. You need a rope.

By 2076, a coalition Federal government was created by the state governments, which were the largest functional governments on the continent. The states were exceptionally varied in levels of control and laws. The states also made it clear that the federal government in no way would it be allowed to impact the laws of the individual states. The federal government also has no power at all over individual citizens, it was built as a mechanism for states to work out their issues between them, create treaties with foreign nations, and defend the totality of the country.

As we all know, the federal government is explicitly not allowed to tax, nor is it allowed to create money, nor is it allowed to invalidate state laws.

Areas not participating in the Reconstituted United States were the: Southern California, the Pacific Northwest coast, and the ungoverned D.C.-Boston corridor, though neighboring states do take part in periodic pacification expeditions.

By 2076, the population of the areas in the Reconstituted United States was steady at 125,000,000 people, and was beginning to grow to the 150,000,000 we see today in 2126. The Internet is still available, but the advent of mandatory public browsing histories solved most of the issues seen in the early 2010s and 2020s.

I’d like to thank the Wilder Institute for Serious Historical, Political, and Economic Zeitgeist Studies™, WISHPEZ©, for funding and support during this research.

Just Look At What You’ve Started!

“I fart in your general direction.” – Monty Python and the Holy Grail

I saw the worst page in the dictionary, and what I saw was disgraceful, dishonest, and disgusting.

I find myself, time and again, beginning work that I know I will never see completed.

My time here is finite. That fact sits in the background of everything, the ticking clock.

Still, I keep launching projects where the meaningful results, if they arrive at all, will show up long after I am gone. Sometimes the gap stretches into decades or even centuries. The work starts now because the window for starting is now, even when the finish line sits on the other side of my own existence.

An example of that is the oldest written joke that we know, which is a flatulence joke. It’s not even a good joke. Heck, it’s so bad it’s not even Amy Schumer-tier.

But we know it. And it was a seed planted, thousands of years ago.

A proverb captures the feeling cleanly. It is often traced to ancient Greek sources: a society grows great when old men plant trees in whose shade they shall never sit.

The personal version lands just as directly. I am planting metaphorical trees under whose shade I will never metaphorically sit. Or fart. Or whatever.

I can cut a log in half just by staring at it. I saw it with my own two eyes.

Having children supplies one clear case where we build that future. Earlier generations treated reproduction as something that largely happened without deliberate long-range planning: a Saturday night and a bottle of wine and, boom, Julius Caesar was born nine months later and was off invading Gaul nine months after that. Biology and circumstance and the Roman Legions carried most of the load.

Today the choice sits in the open.

I began a project whose success or failure will play out across lives that extend well past mine. The uncertainties related to having children arrive immediately, and stay. What sort of people will they become? What attitudes will they carry into whatever conditions they meet? How much of what I do now will actually matter when they make their own choices? Will the daily work of guidance and example turn out to have been enough? What sort of impact will they have on the lives of others?

These questions do not come with easy answers. I did it anyway, fully knowing that large parts of the outcome lie outside any direct observation I will ever have. I’m tossing a message in a bottle into the sea, and one day it will drift beyond my sight.

And it’s okay if you drop a bottle on your foot, since it’s a soft drink.

My writing here forms another example. Each idea or observation I write down moves outward like a ripple from a stone dropped in still water. Some ripples weaken quickly and vanish as distance grows from the initial perturbation. Other of my ripples cross paths with ripples started elsewhere and produce new patterns through interference in the brains of people I’ll never meet.

A smaller number may strengthen when surrounding conditions line up: when an idea meets receptive minds or aligns with events already in motion.

I have no reliable way to track the final shape any of this takes. Has any portion of it improved the world in any way?

I cannot measure that from inside.

What I can control is the attempt to keep what I write aligned with observable reality as closely as possible. The results are not always Beautiful. They are not always Good. They simply aim to stay as True as I can make them. When I’m lucky, they’re two of the three. When I’m very lucky, they’re all three.

Is a long metaphor a metaphiv?

Stepping back gives me yet another perspective.

A single human life occupies almost no space against the age of the Universe. The cosmos we can observe remains young even by its own standards.

Some red dwarfs carry enough fuel supplies to keep them burning for trillions of years, which is slightly longer than The Simpsons has been on TV. Distant descendants, if any exist at that scale, might live under skies lit by those dim red suns and occasionally consider their own origins.

Far more likely, the timescales involved would have erased any specific memory of earlier generations. The thread of continuity will be stretched to the utmost at that great depth of time and only the most basic, the greatest of what is Beautiful, Good and True will remain.

Yet, I keep starting these projects.

I keep choosing to begin work whose completion sits beyond my time on Earth. I try to retell stories that are older than any living man, stories of our history, of self-reliance, of bravery, of what is best in being human.

The way I tell those stories is imperfect and incomplete, but it’s just another tree planted without expectation of sitting under the finished shade.

Why do so few Germans commit crimes? Crimes are illegal.

Perhaps, at some vastly later point, whatever remains of humanity will retain at least a trace of humor about the whole arrangement and maybe a ripple from this time will impact them. That possibility, however small, supplies its own quiet justification for continuing to drop stones into the water.

Besides, farting is intrinsically funny, and if my fart joke survives a trillion years, well, that really would be a blast from the past.

Civil War 2.0 Weather Report: All It Takes Is A Spark

“All it took was a spark.” – Sherlock Holmes (2009)

That Asian lady on TV says to donate anything that doesn’t spark joy. Who is going to take all these illegal aliens?

Those who have an opposing ideology are considered evil.
People actively avoid being near those of opposing ideology. Might move from communities or states just because of ideology.
Common violence. Organized violence is occurring monthly.
Common violence that is generally deemed by governmental authorities as justified based on ideology.
Opposing sides develop governing/war structures. Just in case.
Open War.

Volume VIII, Issue 1

Most memes except for the clock and graphs are “as found”. I have maintained the Clock O’Doom at 9., given the open support of assassination and criminality by the GloboLeft and the increase in violence as well as direct interference with ICE and the insertion of the military into law enforcement. Beware: the number can climb quickly.

My advice remains. Avoid crowds. Get out of cities. Now. A year too soon is better than one day too late.

In this issue: Front Matter – Sparks and Ignition – Violence and Censorship Update – Misery Index – Updated Civil War 2.0 Index – Why Is It . . . ? – Links

Front Matter

Welcome to the latest issue of the Civil War II Weather Report. These posts are different than the other posts at Wilder Wealthy and Wise and consist of smaller segments covering multiple topics around the single focus of Civil War 2.0, on the first or second Monday of every month. I’ve created a page (LINK) for links to all of the past issues. Also, subscribe because you’ll join nearly 840 other people and get every single Wilder post delivered to your inbox, M-W-F at or before 7:30AM Eastern, free of charge.

Sparks and Ignition

I’ve been covering the UK as a part of the Violence and Censorship Update to the Weather Report as long as I’ve been doing it. The reason is simple: it’s a country that has a similar culture and is facing similar problems and it can be instructive. It also might be the Spark.

When you look at fires, they need three things: oxygen, fuel, and a spark. If I could extend the metaphor a bit, air would be the discontent in a population. It’s always around, and doesn’t cause a fire by itself. Anyone can be mad.

But the amplification, the fuel, is when people communicate their discontent. It’s why an absolute communication blackout occurred on those that were in any way skeptical of the governmental response of COVID or supportive of the obvious fact that the 2020 election was stolen.

Amplification, the fuel, was there when the George Floyd riots occurred.

They were planned. Oh, sure, not George in particular, but any video would have spread. After four years of Trump, the GloboLeftElite and GloboLeft activists were so angry that they wanted something, and any event on video that could be made to be the Spark would be amplified.

So, discontent plus amplification plus event = revolt.

It’s happening now in England. And in Ireland. The first relates to the murder of an 18 year old British university student, Henry Nowak, by a foreign invader. Can Brits have knives? Not without a liosense, guv’na. But if you’re a sikh you can. And one of them used that knife privilege to ventilate young Mr. Nowak. The spice on this already outrageous event?

They coppers were handcuffing Nowak as he died.

Nowak: “I’ve been stabbed.”

Evil Cop: “I don’t think you have, mate.”

Why evil? The coppers took the word of the sikh murderer that Mr. Nowak had, “Done a racism,” and handcuffed the bloodless hands of Mr. Nowak. The murderer or his family then hid the murder weapon, and stole Mr. Nowak’s phone, either for gain or to suppress evidence.

The next case is still developing: another foreign invader in Belfast was subject to oppression because he was arrested after being caught sawing the head off of an Irishman. Silly Irish! They should know that it’s illegal for them to be caught having their heads sawed off. That must have inconvenienced the poor refugee.

These are Sparks. White protests have been the result, though I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the first that you’ve heard of either of these events, since news has been clamped down tight: they want to remove the fuel from the event. It can’t spread!

The result is that they’re trying to keep this from spreading.

The discontent is real. And the oxygen level that is starting to build up in the room is the fact that, as the economy falters for the young, they’re now seeing the wealth pump in action as countries try to bring in cheaper labor from overseas to replace skilled young British and American citizens. Zoomer disaffection is real, and their complaints are legitimate: 8 out of 10 jobs went to foreigners in the United States since 2020.

80%.

They are the oxygen level that keeps rising, and that’s the level that the GloboLeftElite wants to keep down at any cost.

What they want is to get rid of you.

When I started writing the Weather Reports eight years ago, I thought that Civil War 2.0 would be ideological.

It won’t be.

Violence and Censorship:

Stealing a country’s mythology is censorship, and you can see that in effect with the movies. At some point people will realize this is just forced humiliation.

Turks gave us a cool new name:

I guess making fun of Indians is off the menu, as Poop World Order was banned from X not long after this.

And when you brainwash white women, murder follows:

Oh, and women judges. Don’t forget them.

You can’t stop the signal, Mal. But California will keep trying.

Misery Index

The new Trump administration is shown in red. Results continue to be much better than Biden’s misery numbers though Iran is starting to show in the index..

And why isn’t giving jobs to aliens over qualified Americans legal?

Updated Civil War II Index

The Civil War II graphs are an attempt to measure four factors that might make Civil War II more likely, in real time. They are broken up into Violence, Political Instability, Economic Outlook, and Illegal Alien Crossings. As each of these is difficult to measure, I’ve created for three of the four metrics some leading indicators that combine to become the index. On illegal aliens, I’m just using government figures.

Violence:

Violence indicators are down this month. The attempted assassination last month didn’t even flutter the number, which tells you how far down the road we are.

Political Instability: