Citizen Writers Fighting Censorship by Helping Americans Understand Issues Affecting the Republic.
I learned something while sitting on a Michigan jury that sent me down one hell of a rabbit hole: Michigan can separately criminalize using a computer to commit a crime. In 2026, when your phone, truck, watch, bank, doorbell and possibly your toaster are computers, that starts sounding suspiciously like an enhancement for breathing oxygen while committing a crime.
Dad thought “permanent trailer plate” meant permanent. Government apparently meant, “until you buy another trailer, peasant.” For generations, recycling an old trailer plate was the kind of technically-wrong rural economics nobody noticed unless a cop had an actual reason to look. Today, cameras, databases, and algorithms potentially can notice—and remember—things no human officer ever would have bothered with.
That raises a bigger question than Dad’s Great Trailer Plate Crime Spree: **When technology makes it possible for government to notice nearly everything, should it?**
Homeland Security Secretary Markwayne Mullin joins ‘The Sunday Briefing’ to discuss border security, drug cartel drone activity and cyber threats. He also details President Donald Trump’s border enforcement policies.
It is my third week without a smartphone. Twenty-one days ago, I purchased a Japanese “dumb” phone with the same high-tech functionality of coleslaw.
America has built a surveillance network King George III could only dream about. License-plate cameras may help catch criminals, but when government can potentially turn millions of innocent motorists into searchable dots on a map, the Fourth Amendment deserves a seat at the table. Catch the car thief. Find the missing child. But when the government wants to reconstruct where ordinary citizens have been, Americans should remember two beautiful words our Founders would appreciate: Flock you.
What if the Beast of Revelation didn’t rise from the sea—but arrived in a server rack? This fictional, extra-biblical excursion imagines AI as the Beast, data centers as its temples, and humanity enthusiastically feeding it electricity, water, privacy, knowledge, and eventually perhaps our autonomy. The disturbing part isn’t that the machine might conquer us. It’s that we may build it ourselves, connect everything to it, put it in our pockets—and stand in line for the upgrade.
America’s next battlefield may not begin with missiles, tanks, or troops crossing a border. It may begin with a transformer failure, a cyberattack, a communications outage, and a supply chain that suddenly stops supplying. The new executive order protecting America’s bulk-power system recognizes an uncomfortable reality of fifth-generation warfare: the electrical grid is now strategic terrain. Securing foreign vulnerabilities and rebuilding domestic manufacturing are important first steps—but preparing for the next war means building a nation resilient enough to keep fighting, communicating, manufacturing, and rebuilding even when somebody tries to turn the lights out.
On Tuesday, August 11th, 2026, a company quietly euthanized the one idea it was built on.
Bumble — the dating app whose entire personality, marketing budget, brand identity, and stock pitch rested on the single rule that WOMEN MESSAGE FIRST — announced that men can now message first.
That is it. That is the whole company. Gone. Eleven years of “we are the app where women hold the power,” retired in a press release with the tone of a man explaining to his wife why there is a boat in the driveway.
Imagine explaining to a military planner in 1985 that the laser weapons designed to blind enemy soldiers would never become the future of warfare. During the Cold War, some experts genuinely believed that bullets would eventually give way to directed-energy weapons that would simply remove an enemy’s ability to see. Then reality intervened. It turned out that permanently blinding someone wasn’t viewed as the humanitarian breakthrough some had imagined. The battlefield stayed remarkably old-school, and the age of the battlefield ophthalmologist never quite arrived.
Somewhere along the way, America decided Genesis was too unbelievable—but extraterrestrials flying across the galaxy to genetically modify primitive hominids sounded perfectly reasonable. From Mark Passio’s theories to Ancient Aliens and today’s UAP obsession, an alternative creation story has quietly seeped into popular culture. We didn’t stop asking who created us; we just traded heaven for outer space, angels for aliens, and creation for a genetics lab in a spaceship. God was apparently too unbelievable—so we gave Him a spaceship.
Imagine spending your entire life being told your country is the greatest civilization on Earth… then someone hands you a Wi-Fi password. According to a widely circulated—but unverified—report, North Korean troops may have discovered unrestricted internet access and promptly demonstrated why every dictatorship fears broadband more than bombs. Tanks can level buildings. The internet levels narratives. Somewhere, a political commissar is still trying to explain why the greatest threat to operational readiness wasn’t enemy artillery—it was the guest Wi-Fi passsord to PornHub.
Compulsive Precision Disorder (CPD) – Spend enough time around long-range competitive marksmen and you’ll notice something curious. They all have a little… something. They measure powder to the kernel, torque screws to inch-pounds, record weather conditions like NOAA meteorologists, and can spend an hour investigating a single 9-ring hit like it’s the JFK assassination.
To the average person, this borders on insanity.
To a competitive marksman, it’s called Tuesday.
The funny part? Those obsessive personality traits that might seem excessive everywhere else are exactly what the sport rewards. The target doesn’t care about excuses—it only rewards consistency. Maybe that’s why engineers, machinists, scientists, and military veterans seem to thrive on the firing line. In one of the few places on Earth where perfectionism actually pays dividends, a little Compulsive Precision Disorder isn’t a bug…
Technology has made us faster, smarter, and more capable than any generation that came before us. But somewhere along the way, we forgot an uncomfortable truth: every technological advantage eventually becomes a dependency. The Romans understood it. Napoleon understood it. The Army wrote it down more than a century ago. Use the calculator. Use the GPS. Use the ballistic computer. But never forget the skills that allow you to function when the batteries die. A truly advanced military isn’t the one that fights brilliantly when everything works. It’s the one that can still fight when nothing does.
There are, conservatively, a trillion problems a day that arise in the United States. I would, as a conservative, like government involved in as few of them as possible.
But because government at all levels is so huge? It crowds out all the private spaces – and with them the perception that private solutions are possible.
Before GPS, CAD, drones, and LiDAR, American military engineers were laying out massive forts with astonishing geometric precision using little more than chains, optical instruments, pencils, and a serious command of mathematics. Fort Wayne’s remarkable symmetry raises an irresistible question: brilliant engineering—or something more mysterious? From star-fort battlefield geometry to Freemasonry’s famous obsession with the square and compass, we separate the fascinating history from the conspiracy theories. The conclusion may be even more humbling: the old guys were really freaking good at math.
The Great Pentagon Camouflage War may go down as one of the finest examples of what happens when bureaucracy collides head-on with the laws of physics. For thousands of years, armies understood a simple concept: if you’re fighting in the desert, wear desert colors. If you’re fighting in the woods, wear woodland colors. Then someone decided we could outsmart Mother Nature with a “Universal Camouflage Pattern” that would supposedly work everywhere. It turned out to work spectacularly well… provided the enemy attacked in a gravel pit. Afghanistan quickly exposed the fantasy, and after years of testing, billions in replacement equipment, and enough PowerPoint slides to camouflage the Pentagon itself, the Army arrived at the shocking scientific discovery that brown and green actually blend into brown and green. Sometimes the most expensive lesson in military history is learning that physics doesn’t salute generals.
The first five years of the 2020s were tough, especially for the millions of people worldwide who died of a disease unnecessarily. A pandemic suddenly appeared from nowhere; no one wanted to say with any certainty.
**Excerpt**
What started as a clever wildcat experiment has become one of the hottest cartridges in precision shooting. The 6mm Creedmoor delivers blistering speed, flat trajectories, and remarkably light recoil—all while launching sleek, high-ballistic-coefficient bullets that shrug off the wind. From PRS to the growing world of CMP AR Tactical, competitors are discovering that the 6mm Creedmoor isn’t just another Creedmoor—it’s a cartridge built to stay on target, spot its own impacts, and stack X-rings. For many shooters, it’s turning the AR-10 into a laser beam where others are still shooting slingshots.
We have mastered the science of rewriting DNA. The question is whether we’ve mastered the wisdom to know when not to. Jesus warned that the last days would resemble the days of Noah—not because of primitive technology, but because humanity crossed boundaries it was never meant to cross. Today we stand at the intersection of unprecedented scientific power and unprecedented moral confusion. The Bible’s warning isn’t against knowledge. It’s against knowledge without God. The greatest threat to civilization may not be what we can invent—but what we’re willing to become.
For too long, we’ve argued over the wrong question. The Second Amendment was never just about a rifle—it was about preserving the balance of power between a free people and their government. As technology reshapes our world, the real debate isn’t simply who owns firearms, but whether citizens will retain meaningful access to the technologies that define power in the 21st century. Rights written on paper are only as strong as a free people’s ability to exercise and defend them. When the government alone possesses tomorrow’s technology, liberty risks becoming a privilege instead of a birthright.