Citizen Writers Fighting Censorship by Helping Americans Understand Issues Affecting the Republic.
There was a time—not that long ago—when a man who couldn’t tie a knot was considered about as useful as a screen door on a submarine. Today, we’ve got people carrying $1,200 smartphones, satellite GPS, and enough titanium gadgets clipped to their belt to look like a walking REI catalog… and they can’t tie a loop that won’t slip under load.
I like ducks. I watch the same two mallards visit this area of Lake Martin. Almost every morning.
I don’t know if they’re married. Ducks are seasonally monogamous. So this could just be a one-season stand.
Still, they are my friends. I guess they’re here to find food. Sort of like going to Piggly Wiggly with your spouse, minus the buggy, and the rolling of your spouse’s eyes whenever one of you places six jars of something you don’t need into the basket because it’s BOGO.
Hello. I am a sea turtle. We turtles don’t actually have names. But you can call me Squirt. Pleased to meet you.
Maybe you’ve never met a talking sea turtle before. Well, I’d like to change that.
Some of the sharpest minds of the last century sensed the reductionist story was missing something. Carl Jung looked inward and saw conflict. The ego — the conscious “I” — wants control, moral self-justification, narrative dominance. It insists on sovereignty. Jung recognized the ego was not the whole self and that something beyond it pressed inward, demanding humility and reordering. He called that pressure the “Self.” He diagnosed the tension correctly. He simply refused to name the external authority behind it.
When Missler said we may be living in something like a simulation, he meant that physical reality functions like a user interface. We experience the front end. The underlying code — the laws, constants, and constraints — operate beneath our direct perception. Just as you don’t see the binary code behind your screen but interact with its output, we interact with a physical world governed by informational architecture we didn’t write.
If NATO ever needs a real-world case study in territorial conflict, dominance hierarchies, and cold-weather logistics, they can skip the war colleges and simply hang a bird feeder in northeastern Michigan. Within hours, it becomes a contested supply hub. Within days, a full-blown squirrel conflict emerges—predictable, ruthless, and strangely educational.
They tell you baiting bans are about “science.” They say it’s about “wildlife health.” They deliver it in that soothing government voice that always means, “We’re here to help… ourselves.”
There are rock stars… and then there are Michigan rock stars—the kind forged in cold air, hard miles, deer sign, and a stubborn refusal to apologize for loving the outdoors. Ted Nugent is that kind of animal.
For decades, Democrats have run the greatest long con in meteorological history—keeping Michigan locked in a Siberian deep freeze under the guise of “saving the planet.” This is not environmentalism. This is a communist cold-storage program. A deliberate effort to stop the natural evolution of states—where Michigan obviously becomes Florida with better beer and fewer felonies.
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 …