Citizen Writers Fighting Censorship by Helping Americans Understand Issues Affecting the Republic.
David T. Cloft 
You don’t win a culture war by convincing people anymore. You win it by rewriting the rules so the people don’t get a vote. Welcome to the new War on Guns—where bureaucrats and lawyers do what tyrants once needed armies for
George Washington warned us 230 years ago to “steer clear of entangling alliances.” We didn’t listen. Europe didn’t either in 1914 — and one royal assassination later, the whole continent lit itself on fire.
Only in Washington could you find this logic persuasive: spend billions of taxpayer dollars to regulate beer, cigarettes, and deer rifles. Congratulations—you’ve just described the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, or as the cool kids call it, the BATFE.
What if, just for a moment, the South’s constitutional vision had prevailed—without the war driving the Union apart—and that vision gave us more freedom, less federal tyranny, and yes, a chance at real racial healing rather than the stain of perpetual federal subjugation?
Let’s cut through the fog: the more science discovers, the more it proves the Bible right—and evolution wrong. We’re not “evolving” into gods; we’re devolving into genetic train wrecks.
Those were the cool days—the kind of small adventures you could still get away with back then. A snowstorm over the Ardennes, a borrowed BMW, and a rucksack full of Belgian beer.
Part III — The Bulldozer Revolution and the Price of Staying NATO’s bombs may have ended Milošević’s campaign in Kosovo, but they didn’t end him. He clung to power in Belgrade until October 5, 2000, when the people he’d impoverished finally had enough. That uprising—called the Bulldozer Revolution—was Serbia’s own version of the non-violent, optics-driven …
Part II — The Pristina Standoff: How to Nearly Start World War III The ink was still drying on Milošević’s surrender when a column of 200 Russian paratroopers made a surprise dash from Bosnia to Kosovo. Their target: Pristina’s Slatina Airfield. It was June 12, 1999, and NATO’s ground convoys were still crawling north. The …
It was a rainy afternoon in 2125, and the university coffee shop was buzzing with chatter and the smell of synthetic espresso. History 304: Pandemics and Policy Failures of the 21st Century had just let out, and a group of students huddled around a table, half-mocking, half-processing what they’d learned.
From the skies over Belgrade to the mud of Albania to the streets of Belgrade with a bulldozer—NATO won the war, lost the narrative, and never quite came home; Part I-When NATO Went to War for Peace
For a brief period of time, I had the honor of serving under General Raymond T. Odierno in Iraq. He was, without question, one of the finest officers I ever worked for—sharp, grounded, and with a great sense of humor that managed to shine through even in the worst of times.
History, they say, is written by the victors—and edited by their public-school textbook committees. So let’s talk about the War of Northern Aggression (as my Southern friends call it) or, as the winners prefer, the “Civil War.” Either way, it’s when Uncle Sam went from lean constitutional minimalist to big-boned bureaucratic overlord.
As a West Point graduate, I’ve seen plenty of books take shots at the Academy. West Point: America’s Power Fraternity (1973) by K. Bruce Galloway and Robert Bowie Johnson, Jr. might be the loudest, crankiest one of the bunch.
I entered the Army in July of 1993, before President Clinton’s “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” experiment. Back then, the military was still primarily about blowing holes in things, breaking enemy armies, and defending the Republic. Then slowly, like a frog in a pot, the Pentagon began feeding the social science laboratory every “good idea” — except the good ideas about how to win wars.
If Paul were alive in our time, he would not remain silent—he would write to the churches in America, urging them back to faithfulness in Christ and away from the snares of our culture.
You’d think that the world’s most powerful military, with a budget larger than the GDP of some countries, could manage something as simple as a car pool. But no — welcome to the Department of Defense, where each branch guards its motor pool like it’s the nuclear launch codes.
Picture this: the world’s largest office building, full of America’s best and brightest, all dressed alike (but slightly different camouflage patterns) and all supposedly fighting the same enemy. Except the enemy wasn’t foreign. It was our brother
Cue the violins, America: it’s “government shutdown season” again. Right on schedule, like pumpkin spice lattes or bad holiday commercials, the headlines scream that federal workers will be “sent home without pay” and that the Republic teeters on the brink of collapse.
In recent remarks, the idea of using American cities as “training grounds” for active-duty military forces was floated. While I firmly back the President’s resolve to secure this nation, we must also be clear-eyed: there are limits that every officer—whether O-1 or O-10—must know. Crossing them is not just a political issue, but a constitutional one.
This week, Secretary of War Pete Hegseth did something extraordinary: he swung a wrecking ball into the bloated bureaucracy and reminded 800 generals that their job is not to manage feelings — it’s to win wars.