Trump Right About Kids And Vax; Establishment Media Lies Again –President Trump on June 16 appeared on Sean Hannity and said people should consider not giving children the Covid vaccine.
“But to have every school child, where it’s 99.99 percent, they just don’t — you know, they are just not affected or affected badly,” he said. “Having to receive a vaccine, I think it is something that you should start thinking about, because I think it is unnecessary.”
The writer, Myah Ward, used this objective, informative — that’s sarcasm son — regarding Trump’s statement:
Former President Donald Trump on Wednesday railed against Covid-19 vaccines for school-aged children, falsely making his point by saying that young people — though he didn’t specify which ages — were “not affected or affected badly” by the coronavirus.
There is not yet enough evidence on the use of vaccines against COVID-19 in children to make recommendations for children to be vaccinated against COVID-19. Children and adolescents tend to have milder disease compared to adults. However, children should continue to have the recommended childhood vaccines.
Don’t trust the establishment media. If it says one thing, make suspecting the opposite your default.
Trump Right About Kids And Vax; Establishment Media Lies Again
Like all the best things in life, Donald Trump’s presidency was over too quickly. If there’s one thing I regret about his reelection campaign, it’s that I didn’t take more pictures. I mean, I took a ton of pictures—it’s what I do. But I wish I’d gotten more candid shots of his supporters, like the ones below. I don’t really like posed portraits of people, because the emotion captured in a shot for which the subject was unprepared can’t be depicted when you ask them to freeze, put aside whatever they’re actually feeling, and plaster on a smile for your camera.
I’m not a mind-reader, just a photographer. I’m not sure what these subjects—none of whom I know personally—were feeling. I can imagine it was the tentative optimism we all shared. But I wonder if anyone else knew deep down that Trump would not be getting a second term. I didn’t want to say it then—I’m American with Italian roots; having come from a superstitious culture, it’s been implied to me that speaking something aloud can make it happen. But I knew. And it wasn’t the first time I felt that horrible weight in my gut, the sinking feeling of knowing a truth you so badly don’t want to accept. Some things are too good to be true. I knew Donald Trump’s second term was one of them. Some things do not happen twice.
My first thought when I wake up every morning is how much I wish Donald Trump were still president. Although we’re distraught that he didn’t get to finish what he started, I am as grateful for the time he spent being our leader as I am disappointed that it couldn’t last. I am thankful not only to President Trump himself, but for the fact that I was here to see all of this. Most lifespans are less than one hundred years. Considering this, I am almost in disbelief that I was fortunate enough to have my existence coincide with his. It dawned on me recently that had I been born a couple generations earlier or a generation later, I would have missed his presidency. I would have missed the greatest thing that ever happened for the United States. Each of us who supported him got to vote for him twice. We got to attend his rallies. Some of us were more involved than others, but we each got to play a part, however big or small, in the MAGA movement. At least we have that to carry with us moving forward.
I cannot imagine the depth of the bereavement President Trump is feeling now as he watches his hard work being undone and his accomplishments being erased. We knew the Biden administration would be bad, but this is far worse than we’d imagined. If it’s this hard for us to witness, how much harder is it for the man who did everything in his power to prevent it? I hope the devastation our former president and his family must be feeling is tempered by the immense gratitude we have for them and the whole administration.
I hope Donald Trump’s main takeaway from his time as president is, simply, that he is loved. It sure didn’t always seem that way, but I hope that as he looked into the crowd at each of his rallies, he saw the appreciation we had for him illustrated on our faces. We saw his love for this country, we saw what he was doing for us. We know what he had to give up in order to serve the American people. We know he didn’t need to become president—he took the literal weight of the world onto his seventy-year-old shoulders not for himself, but for us. He could’ve spent the past five and a half years enjoying retirement in Mar-a-Lago. We know how hard it must’ve been to be a public servant—donating every penny of his salary—to constituents who make constant attempts to vilify him, who make threats on his life. But I hope he knows that along with every media source diminishing his efforts, along with every journalist who has labeled him a bigot, a sexist, or a Nazi, along with the people who hold up a replica of his severed head in effigy, the people who get the hashtag “wrong Trump” trending on Twitter in reference to his younger brother’s death, and the people wishing he would’ve succumbed to Covid, there are people who love him so profoundly that they drive three hours away to stand out on the shoulder of the road all day just to get a glimpse of his smiling face and bright yellow hair through the tinted window of a limousine. I always thought fanatical people were strange—what is there to be so excited about? A celebrity is just like anybody else.
Until I was the one asking my mom to drive me to the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton airport after Trump’s private presentation was over, so I could watch the motorcade go by for a second time that day.
Until I was the overzealous nut—there’s always one, right?—standing in the front row with the Bikers for Trump, and screaming “WE LOVE YOU MOOOOOOORE!” to Eric Trump at his rally in the parking lot of Superior Laminating, each time he spoke of his affection for the president’s supporters.
Until my mother and I were driving all the way up to Waymart in the pouring rain to see Ivanka, and I was one of the people shoving a piece of paper at her and telling her how proud I was of her, and later hanging that autograph, framed, on my bedroom wall.
Until I was photographing Mike Pence during his rally at the Reading Airport, in awe as he jumped off the platform like someone half his age to come around and greet his fans. As I shouted that I was proud of him and watched him smile back, the irony was not lost on me—anyone who knows me will tell you I’m fairly reticent, rarely telling even close friends that I love them. But here I was, saying it freely to members of both Trump’s family and administration, all of whom were technically strangers to me.
What I found particularly touching was how involved Donald Trump’s children were with his presidency and reelection campaign. I loved the devotion that the Trump family showed to each other and to the US. Seeing each of them in person brought out the human side of politics, the side you don’t see when you’re watching the ten o’clock news or reading the latest tabloid. They weren’t just public figures, they weren’t just his advisors. They already had full lives long before their dad ran for president, with the same ups and downs that all of us experience. They were citizens serving their nation while keeping their young children out of the limelight and trying to maintain some semblance of privacy. They went from being well-liked, successful businesspeople to being under 24/7 Secret Service surveillance in only a few months’ time.
I don’t think there is a family in modern history who has had to face the kind of adversity the Trump family has, who has taken the kind of undue criticism they have had heaped upon them every day since 2015. Call them privileged all you want; what does money and fame mean when you’re living with the knowledge that there are people who have homicidal intent towards you? A certain amount of disparagement is expected when you get involved with politics, and of course neither Trump himself nor anyone else in his family or administration ever batted an eye, but nobody is immune to constant assaults on their character or the stress of having their safety jeopardized each time they left their homes—a scenario which should never have occurred in a so-called civilized society. After the initial riots following the 2016 elections, I’d hoped the Left would realize their mistake, begin using their eyes and heads, and start appreciating what President Trump was doing for our nation. It was only a couple of months later when I realized we wouldn’t see that happen. On the contrary, the threats from the “Hate Has No Home Here” crew became more vulgar, grew in both intensity and frequency. Did President Trump and his family find it as harrowing as I did? Did they deplane at each campaign stop wondering if that could be the day when a protestor with nefarious intent would somehow slip past security?
It’s sad to think of our president and first family working for our country under these circumstances; the fact that they performed their roles so well in spite of it all is a testament to their indomitable spirits and dedication to the US. I don’t understand when it became socially acceptable to wish death upon the leader of your own nation, or how violence against Trump supporters became such a common occurrence that some of us had to think twice before leaving the house in a hat bearing the name of the president. I don’t understand how it was seen as normal that business owners in major cities had to board up their windows at the end of October—were we preparing for an election or a natural disaster?
I hope the support the Trump family was shown at each of their rallies insulated them against these attacks. I hope the screams of their adoring fans was enough to drown out the hostility, the hurtful remarks that were spewed, and I wish they knew that the amount of love and gratefulness I alone had—and still have—for them is so much greater than the hatred that all the vitriolic people hold within their embittered souls combined, and I know the rest of President Trump’s supporters would express the exact same sentiments.
The anticipation in the months leading up to the election was as torturous as it was delightful. It was like sitting at a railroad crossing while a freight train was going by. Logically, you knew it had to end sometime, but as it chugged along in front of you, it almost seemed like there could be an infinite number of boxcars. And yet, somehow, it felt like I was searching for a pause button that I knew did not exist—I wanted to stay there, savoring the feeling of unity at each of Trump’s reelection events, of being with people who all shared a common goal. You would think that when you cram five to ten thousand people into an airport hangar, things would get contentious, but they didn’t. We passed around snacks, we gave up our seats for each other. I doubt I’ll ever find a way to recapture that pre-election excitement; although I sensed the impending catastrophe, the last shreds of my idealism were not entirely snuffed out until Biden’s inauguration. Now having experienced Biden’s leadership—or lack thereof—there is nothing I wouldn’t do to be able to go back to that segment of our lives, to pull a lever and halt the Earth’s rotations at any point before November third.
I have no doubt that President Trump is aware of how much we miss him. Having known this was coming for months, I wasn’t expecting the onslaught of grief that hit me when I saw President Trump and Melania leaving the white house for the last time. But as I watch Biden force National Guard troops to sleep in a parking garage, as I watch him send airstrikes to Syria, as I watch the destruction of the Keystone Pipeline and the erasure of women from sports, as I watch the crisis at the border escalate, and executive order after executive order pile up on his desk in less than two months’ time, I miss President Trump in the same frantic and desperate way I would miss oxygen if I were trapped underwater.
I miss everything about the Trump administration.
I miss having peace in the Middle East.
I miss energy independence.
I miss gas being two dollars per gallon.
I miss his Tweets!
I miss watching his State of the Union addresses.
I miss the backache from standing in line at each of those rallies. I miss the total stranger who, when she saw that I was starting to panic after being in line for seven hours at President Trump’s rally at the Harrisburg International Airport, began rubbing my back and talking to me to calm me down. I miss holding up the sign I had made out of a poster board and Sharpies, “Four More Years of Liberal Tears.” I miss being awestruck at the sight of Air Force One landing on the tarmac. I miss the sound of ten thousand voices all reciting the Pledge of Allegiance together. I miss the way my throat closed up with emotion when Melania came out on stage to address the crowd in Chester County just about a week prior to voting day. I miss sitting in the parking lot of the Upper Salford Volunteer Fire Company on a day that was about ninety-eightdegrees, in a metal chair on the asphalt, direct sunlight beating down on us, melting in the literal sense while waiting to see Lara Trump arrive with the Women for Trump bus tour.
I miss the Toby Keith songs they used to play at Trump-related events. Do I like country music? Not one bit. I miss it anyway.
But mostly, I just miss having hope for our nation’s future. I miss the security of knowing we had a commander in chief who put America first in all things, who worked tirelessly to protect his constituents from threats both domestic and foreign, even in the face of constant opposition from the Democratic party and even some members of the GOP.
I wish I could go back to election night, 2020, getting home after a long day working the polls, eating a pork roll sandwich in front of the computer and forcing myself to stay awake until five-thirty to watch the count come in, clinging to the nonsensical belief that as long as I didn’t fall asleep, as long as I kept refreshing the Google results, as long as my eyes did not close, President Trump would be declared the winner before daybreak.
I wish I could go back to election night, 2016. That morning had been my first time voting in a presidential election, and I was filled with twenty-year-old naivety that had not yet been smothered. I spent the day at the hospital in the city, fighting the urge to pace, to shake out the nervous energy consuming me as I sat still as a statue while the surgical resident drew dots on my face, took measurements in preparation for a maxillofacial surgery that would take place several months later. I remember waiting for the train during rush hour at 30th Street Station, looking around at everyone else and wondering if this was just another day for them, just another commute home, or if they were feeling the same tension of being perched on that metaphorical precipice. It was after two-thirty that night when Hillary called to concede. I burst into relieved sobs while the rest of the nation erupted in equal parts rage and euphoria.
I wish we could all go back to June sixteenth, 2015, the day President Trump announced his candidacy. As we watched him descend the escalator in Trump tower, Melania at his side, some of us were scratching our heads. I remembered watching The Apprentice as a kid with my mom, but I was too young to understand what was happening in the show, and I knew next to nothing about this man other than the fact that he was rich, famous, and lived in Manhattan. It wasn’t the first time a non-politician had run for president—we can’t forget Ronald Reagan—but that was way before I was born. So admittedly, my only thought that day was, how is a reality TV star supposed to run the country? How will Donald Trump do something like that?
With more efficiency, care, common sense, candor, and patriotism than anybody ever had before.
Trump Respect For Military In One Meme— With the desperate unsourced claims by Deep State snakes and their professional propagandists about President Trump disparaging the military we’d thought we save a thousand words and share this picture.
Donna Ellingsen Surprise Winner In Delegate Race — Donna Ellingsen will be attending the Republican National Convention in August as one of the three elected delegates from the Pennsylvania 6th Congressional District.
The others are former Chesco sheriff Bunny Welsh and Deborah Abel, both long-time GOP state committee members.
America Under Attack, Not Just Trump — A certain type of traditional Republican voter has feelings towards President Trump so emotionally driven reasoned discussion almost seems impossible.
Still, we will try.
President Trump in his time in office has removed us from the Paris Climate scam — you get that not only did this cripple our industry and strengthen China but required the US to pay for energy projects overseas, right?; destroyed “JV team” ISIS as a holder of territory; pushed for pipelines, opened ANWR for drilling; cut the Federal Register, the official journal of federal agency rules, to its lowest size in 25 years; and flipped the 2nd, 3rd and 11th Circuit Courts from radical progressive to quasi-sane, and may have done the same to even more extreme 9th Circuit; and quieted Iran by killing its top general.
He also was the first president since Reagan to stand up to China, which has imperial and totalitarian ambitions.
You really think the impeachment hoax concerned something Trump did wrong?
You really think the disturbances in our streets still have something to do with George Floyd?
It’s not just the President under attack, but all of us.
McCarrick has since been defrocked. Call him Teddy if you want.
Today, June 7, Archbishop Viganò released a profound open letter to President Trump, in which he offered support and described the real evil he and we are up against.
Here is the letter:
June 7, 2020
Holy Trinity Sunday
In recent months we have been witnessing the formation of two opposing sides that I would call Biblical: the children of light and the children of darkness. The children of light constitute the most conspicuous part of humanity, while the children of darkness represent an absolute minority. And yet the former are the object of a sort of discrimination which places them in a situation of moral inferiority with respect to their adversaries, who often hold strategic positions in government, in politics, in the economy and in the media. In an apparently inexplicable way, the good are held hostage by the wicked and by those who help them either out of self-interest or fearfulness.
These two sides, which have a Biblical nature, follow the clear separation between the offspring of the Woman and the offspring of the Serpent. On the one hand there are those who, although they have a thousand defects and weaknesses, are motivated by the desire to do good, to be honest, to raise a family, to engage in work, to give prosperity to their homeland, to help the needy, and, in obedience to the Law of God, to merit the Kingdom of Heaven. On the other hand, there are those who serve themselves, who do not hold any moral principles, who want to demolish the family and the nation, exploit workers to make themselves unduly wealthy, foment internal divisions and wars, and accumulate power and money: for them the fallacious illusion of temporal well-being will one day – if they do not repent – yield to the terrible fate that awaits them, far from God, in eternal damnation.
In society, Mr. President, these two opposing realities co-exist as eternal enemies, just as God and Satan are eternal enemies. And it appears that the children of darkness – whom we may easily identify with the deep state which you wisely oppose and which is fiercely waging war against you in these days – have decided to show their cards, so to speak, by now revealing their plans. They seem to be so certain of already having everything under control that they have laid aside that circumspection that until now had at least partially concealed their true intentions. The investigations already under way will reveal the true responsibility of those who managed the Covid emergency not only in the area of health care but also in politics, the economy, and the media. We will probably find that in this colossal operation of social engineering there are people who have decided the fate of humanity, arrogating to themselves the right to act against the will of citizens and their representatives in the governments of nations.
We will also discover that the riots in these days were provoked by those who, seeing that the virus is inevitably fading and that the social alarm of the pandemic is waning, necessarily have had to provoke civil disturbances, because they would be followed by repression which, although legitimate, could be condemned as an unjustified aggression against the population. The same thing is also happening in Europe, in perfect synchrony. It is quite clear that the use of street protests is instrumental to the purposes of those who would like to see someone elected in the upcoming presidential elections who embodies the goals of the deep state and who expresses those goals faithfully and with conviction. It will not be surprising if, in a few months, we learn once again that hidden behind these acts of vandalism and violence there are those who hope to profit from the dissolution of the social order so as to build a world without freedom: Solve et Coagula, as the Masonic adage teaches.
Although it may seem disconcerting, the opposing alignments I have described are also found in religious circles. There are faithful Shepherds who care for the flock of Christ, but there are also mercenary infidels who seek to scatter the flock and hand the sheep over to be devoured by ravenous wolves. It is not surprising that these mercenaries are allies of the children of darkness and hate the children of light: just as there is a deep state, there is also a deep church that betrays its duties and forswears its proper commitments before God. Thus the Invisible Enemy, whom good rulers fight against in public affairs, is also fought against by good shepherds in the ecclesiastical sphere. It is a spiritual battle, which I spoke about in my recent Appeal which was published on May 8.
For the first time, the United States has in you a President who courageously defends the right to life, who is not ashamed to denounce the persecution of Christians throughout the world, who speaks of Jesus Christ and the right of citizens to freedom of worship. Your participation in the March for Life, and more recently your proclamation of the month of April as National Child Abuse Prevention Month, are actions that confirm which side you wish to fight on. And I dare to believe that both of us are on the same side in this battle, albeit with different weapons.
For this reason, I believe that the attack to which you were subjected after your visit to the National Shrine of Saint John Paul II is part of the orchestrated media narrative which seeks not to fight racism and bring social order, but to aggravate dispositions; not to bring justice, but to legitimize violence and crime; not to serve the truth, but to favor one political faction. And it is disconcerting that there are Bishops – such as those whom I recently denounced – who, by their words, prove that they are aligned on the opposing side. They are subservient to the deep state, to globalism, to aligned thought, to the New World Order which they invoke ever more frequently in the name of a universal brotherhood which has nothing Christian about it, but which evokes the Masonic ideals of those want to dominate the world by driving God out of the courts, out of schools, out of families, and perhaps even out of churches.
The American people are mature and have now understood how much the mainstream media does not want to spread the truth but seeks to silence and distort it, spreading the lie that is useful for the purposes of their masters. However, it is important that the good – who are the majority – wake up from their sluggishness and do not accept being deceived by a minority of dishonest people with unavowable purposes. It is necessary that the good, the children of light, come together and make their voices heard. What more effective way is there to do this, Mr. President, than by prayer, asking the Lord to protect you, the United States, and all of humanity from this enormous attack of the Enemy? Before the power of prayer, the deceptions of the children of darkness will collapse, their plots will be revealed, their betrayal will be shown, their frightening power will end in nothing, brought to light and exposed for what it is: an infernal deception.
Mr. President, my prayer is constantly turned to the beloved American nation, where I had the privilege and honor of being sent by Pope Benedict XVI as Apostolic Nuncio. In this dramatic and decisive hour for all of humanity, I am praying for you and also for all those who are at your side in the government of the United States. I trust that the American people are united with me and you in prayer to Almighty God.
United against the Invisible Enemy of all humanity, I bless you and the First Lady, the beloved American nation, and all men and women of good will.
+ Carlo Maria Viganò
Titular Archbishop of Ulpiana
Former Apostolic Nuncio to the United States of America
Archbishop Viganò Says Trump Faces Different ‘Invisible Enemy’ In Letter
The Pennsylvania Turnpike Commission, Monday (March 16), sent home all toll booth operators. Motorists who don’t have E-ZPass will have their license automatically photographed and a bill for the toll sent to them. A man-made traffic snarl has just ended. Will the toll booth takers ever come back?
Kung Flu Fighting — If you missed the just ended presidential Covid-19 update, a silly person pretending to be a journalist snippily asked President Trump about a report that someone in the White House referred to the disease as the Kung Flu. The President asked her who. She didn’t know. The President asked her to repeat the phrase. She got flustered. The president was Kung Flu fighting. His quips were fast as lightning. It was a little bit frightening. But he fought with expert timing.
And for what it’s worth, we never heard the phrase until the silly person pretending to be a journalist brought it up. We think she coined a new name for the disease which will come into common use.