Citizen Writers Fighting Censorship by Helping Americans Understand Issues Affecting the Republic.
Indoctrination of school children is nothing new. It started shortly after President Carter established the US Department of Education, slowly, unnoticed by most parents. President Obama accelerated the indoctrination to a delusional level by forcing transgender ideology and CRT on kids as young as age 5.
As my oldest grandchildren enter adulthood, I talk to them as best I can about what matters in life. As I write this, I realize I need to say more, clearly, directly, and more often. Because, living at the short end of the candle I believe my rear view vision is 20/20.
These phrases are the verbal equivalent of pulling the fire alarm in an argument. Once someone says them, anyone who disagrees immediately looks like a monster. After all, who wants to be the guy standing up and saying, “Actually, I prefer freedom even if it’s risky”? That’s not exactly a great campaign slogan. But history shows that these exact phrases — the language of safety, fairness, and collective good — are often the first step in breaking down systems built on individual responsibility and replacing them with systems built on control.
We are squandering our country’s wealth to accommodate 10-15 million unskilled, unvetted, third-world intruders who were invited to surge America’s open borders by Joe Biden and his duplicitous Democrat underlings.
Growing older—and even retiring—isn’t the end of purpose but a new season where God continues to give joy, wisdom, and plenty of reasons to laugh.
The way to save this country is to eat together. We don’t eat together anymore. We don’t eat supper at the same table. When did that stop?
If you get 50% on a test, you fail. In marriage, 50% also equals failure, and not just the failure of one, but the failure of both partners, and then the failure of the marriage itself.
Mike Misses Valentines Day Dinner and his attempt to talk his way out of it by pleading to a “lesser included offense,” somehow backfires.
Somewhere in Louisiana. The Best Western. It’s late. The temperatures are freezing. I cannot feel my extremities. I am pretty sure the rock rolling around inside my shoe is my toe.
So…Let me tell you about Fuzzy.
A gray kitten my wife tried to adopt from the local animal shelter. My wife went in there like a normal, kind human being. She saw a little kitten and instantly fell in love—because that’s what happens when a decent person meets a tiny creature with big eyes and zero survival skills.
“My daughter’s inside shopping,” the old woman tells me. “You’d better not talk to me. Whenever my daughter sees me talking to strangers, she always says ‘Mama, quit bothering the man!’”
Before the World Was Soft Civilization did not create the warrior brain. Civilization survived because of it. Long before laws, courts, or polite abstractions about peace, human beings existed in a world where violence was not exceptional—it was routine. Hunger, predators, rival tribes, and scarcity were constant pressures. The human nervous system evolved not to be calm, but to be ready.
The cited article below comes from The Irish Times, published in Dublin, and what passes for the only newspaper of record in that heavily Catholic country. Of course, that heavily Catholic country has also legalized homosexual marriage and prenatal infanticide, so . . . . Sunday, January 11, 2026, is in the calendar of …
I see her on the street. She is a hospice nurse. I know this because she is standing directly beside her company SUV, which is covered in vinyl logos, parked outside an older house. She is mid-40s, wearing scrubs. And crying. Face-in-her-hands crying.
When rights come from God, the state is limited. When rights come from government, the state becomes god. That’s the quiet theological dispute beneath all the noise.
I’m going to be honest. In our two decades of marriage, I have never known exactly what our roles are. It’s never been clear to me. I’ve always been confused about hierarchy in our household.
It all started when Sandra was walking home from work. It was 1969. “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” was still in theaters. We landed on the moon. The top-40 hits du jour belonged to the Stones and Neil Diamond.
Meredith is a good Catholic woman. A mother of three. A pillar in her church. So, I can only assume this story about her father is true, since good Catholics never lie.
The wall is painted with black chalkboard paint. So it’s basically a big blackboard, just like the kind you once used for working out algebra problems in front of your whole class.
The Central California coast was covered in dense fog that clung to the world like a wet T-shirt. Morro Bay was gray and cold. The bay lies directly between Los Angeles and San Francisco. You’re looking at about 2,300 acres of Pacific tidal flats, marshes, and beaches, one of the few national estuaries in the …