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I commissioned artist MAIKEUL @MaikeulMaikeul to create for me a portrait of Julian Assange.
Assange symbolizes the fight for freedom against an unjust state. #FreeAssange
GavinNewsom’s Dad retweeted
🚨French locals prefer to keep dancing while watching their country being fully destroyed… ⬇️
meanwhile! French President Macron joins a Celine Dion concert ..
🚨FRANCE IS DONE !🚨#France #Macron #NotreDame
GavinNewsom’s Dad retweeted
🇫🇷 Chers visiteurs, en raison d’un mouvement social étudiant, le musée est fermé pour le moment. Nous vous prions de nous excuser de la gêne occasionnée.
🌍Dear visitors, due to student strikes the museum is currently closed. We apologise for the inconvenience.
GavinNewsom’s Dad retweeted
As France is burning, I keep thinking of what the UAE Foreign Minister said a few years ago 👇
He accurately predicted this.
GavinNewsom’s Dad retweeted
Contre les émeutiers, j'ai un plan simple en 4 mesures.
1️⃣ Je rétablis la loi anti-casseurs, que François Mitterrand a abrogée.
2️⃣ Je rétablis les peines planchers, pour que les juges prononcent un minimum de sanctions.
3️⃣ Je fais payer les dégâts aux coupables et à leurs familles.
4️⃣ J'expulse d'emblée les étrangers et les sans-papiers arrêtés. Les binationaux condamnés seront déchus de la nationalité française et renvoyés dans le pays qu'ils disent aimer.
Ce sont les seules solutions pour ramener la paix dans les rues de France.
GavinNewsom’s Dad retweeted
Pour moi, c'est l'image la plus horrible de ce 17 octobre:
Un couple d'octogénaire dépouillé de tout, en pleine rue, laissé à moitié nu.
Comme si les Rolex, les Vuiton, les Hermès, les Dior, les Sephora pillés n'étaient pas suffisants pour la revente.
L'image qui devrait être un signal d'alarme pour tout l'occident.
L'image d'un pseudo président qui a perdu le contrôle. Qui a totalement échoué envers son peuple.
L'image d'une gauche radicale qui a sacrifié votre propre identité pour faire de votre pays une zone de guerre, aux arrières-plans culturels qui n'ont rien à voir avec les vôtres.
Cette image est effrayante!
GavinNewsom’s Dad retweeted
En France, on a inventé le Concorde.
En 1969, il décollait et atteignait Mach 2 symbole de la grandeur gaullienne, conçu pour défier les Américains.
En 1972, le TGV 001 battait le record mondial à turbine (318 km/h).
En 1981, le TGV électrique reliait Paris à Lyon à 260 km/h. En 2007, il pulvérisait encore le record mondial sur rail : 574,8 km/h.
Dans les années 70, le plan Messmer lançait le plus grand programme nucléaire civil de l’Histoire : 58 réacteurs, jusqu’à 70-80 % de notre électricité, une indépendance énergétique que le monde entier nous enviait.
Dassault, Sud-Aviation, EDF, Framatome, la SNCF : nos ingénieurs étaient les meilleurs. On avait dix à vingt ans d’avance sur presque tout le monde.
Puis 1981, Mitterrand. Nationalisations massives (banques, acier, chimie, électronique, aéronautique). Semaine de 39 heures. Lois Auroux. Charges sociales qui explosent. Syndicats tout-puissants. Fiscalité punitive. Droit du travail rigidifié.
En moins de cinquante ans, le socialisme a transformé un pays d’ingénieurs conquérants en un pays de grèves, de délocalisations et de stagnation relative.
L’industrie est passée d’environ 28 % du PIB à 11 %.
Le Concorde a été abandonné. Notre nucléaire a été presque démantelé pendant des décennies faute de choix politique mortifère.
Ce n’est pas le destin, c’est le prix d’une idéologie qui a préféré redistribuer et réglementer plutôt que construire et innover.
A bon entendeur.
GavinNewsom’s Dad retweeted
My dear American friends, in my last post I gave you a snapshot of where France stands today. Now let me show you how we got here. I want you to see the whole movie before you buy the ticket.
After the war, France was a machine. We called it the Trente Glorieuses, thirty glorious years. We built Concorde, the most beautiful aircraft ever made. We built a fleet of nuclear reactors in about fifteen years and gave ourselves some of the cleanest, cheapest electricity in the world. We built Ariane and put Europe in space. We built the TGV, the fastest train on earth. We invented the Minitel, an online network in millions of homes before most of you had heard of the internet. We were not a museum. We were builders.
Then came 1981. François Mitterrand. Think of him as our Bernie Sanders, except he actually won. At his side, in the office next to his at the Élysée, sat a 37-year-old prodigy named Jacques Attali, his special adviser for the next ten years. The brightest minds of the left, convinced they could run an economy from a ministry.
Here's what they did. They governed with Communist ministers. In 1982 they nationalized dozens of banks and the biggest industrial groups in the country: Paribas, Suez, Saint-Gobain, Thomson, Pechiney, Rhône-Poulenc. They lowered the retirement age to 60. They cut the work week to 39 hours and added a fifth week of paid vacation. They created a wealth tax. They hired massively into the public sector.
Reality hit in less than two years. Capital fled, inflation ran wild, and the franc was devalued three times. In March 1983 Mitterrand had to slam on the brakes and impose austerity just to stay in the European monetary system.
But here's the trick: the brakes never reversed anything. They just slowed the ratchet. The so-called right came back with Jacques Chirac, and nothing was undone. Under Chirac's presidency, France passed the 35-hour work week. Left or right, every government added one more program, one more rule, one more tax, and nobody ever took one away.
At the same time, the political class did something even more destructive than bad economics. It turned the youth into a political instrument. Instead of teaching young people, including millions of children of immigrants, to love the country they lived in, it taught them a story of guilt and grievance: France as the oppressor, France as the thing to resent. You cannot integrate people into a country you've taught them to despise. We are living with the consequences of that narrative today, in our schools, our suburbs, our streets.
Then forty years of slow decline, all the way to Macron. And the story has a perfect ending. In 2007, Jacques Attali chaired a commission on how to unleash French growth. Its deputy rapporteur was a young civil servant named Emmanuel Macron. The commission proposed more than 300 reforms to free the economy. Almost none were ever implemented. Even the men who built the system knew it wasn't working, and even they couldn't undo it.
No balanced budget since 1974. Public spending around 57% of GDP. Debt above 3,300 billion euros. Growth stuck under 1%.
Now the number that should keep you up at night. In 1995, GDP per person in France was about $27,000. In America, about $29,000. We were neck and neck. Today France is around $49,000. America is around $90,000. You are now nearly twice as rich per person as we are.
What changed? Not our talent. Not our engineers. Not our schools of mathematics. The only thing that changed is that we went all in on socialism. The 35 hours, the endless regulation, the taxes that chase out anyone who builds, the belief that the state should do everything and the individual should ask permission for everything.
There's a line people love to attribute to Einstein: insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. We tried. For forty years, we tried. Every government promised that one more program, one more tax, one more regulation would finally fix things. You just saw where it got us.
So if you choose the Democratic Party, which is literally turning socialist in front of your eyes, you will deserve what comes next.
Let me tell you exactly what will happen if you go down that road. Nobody will vote for decline. Every single measure will sound generous, compassionate, reasonable. Your builders will slowly leave or stop building. Your state will grow every year and never shrink. Your debt will compound. And in thirty years, your kids will look at a chart like the one I just described and wonder when it all went wrong.
You still have something we lost. You have Elon Musk sending rockets to orbit and landing them on their tail. You have Palmer Luckey building the defense industry of the future. You have Jeff Bezos, Jensen Huang, and thousands of founders nobody has heard of yet, building in garages right now.
Trust your entrepreneurs. Don't trust your politicians.
I come from your future. Don't make it yours.
I’m French. I want to talk to Americans who are about to vote Democrat. Not to insult you. To warn you.
I come from your future.
In France we did everything your progressive politicians promise. Free healthcare, free college, generous welfare, strong unions, heavy regulation, high taxes on the rich, a state that takes care of everything. Public spending close to 57% of GDP, one of the highest on the planet. On paper, it’s the dream.
Here’s what it looks like from the inside. France hasn’t passed a balanced budget since 1974. Our debt is above 3,300 billion euros. Interest on that debt is becoming one of the biggest items in the national budget. Our hospitals are collapsing despite record funding. Our schools rank lower every year. Young people with degrees can’t afford an apartment in the city they were born in. Our best engineers leave for London, Zurich and San Francisco. And the rich you wanted to tax? They left too, and took the jobs with them.
The promise was protection. The result is stagnation.
The worst part is that nobody in France voted for decline. Every single step sounded generous, compassionate, reasonable. One more program. One more regulation. One more tax to fund it. Each step alone makes sense. Fifty years of them, and you wake up in a country that can no longer build a nuclear plant on time or keep its streets safe.
I love America because it’s the one place on earth where people still believe they can build something from nothing. I came to Silicon Valley as a self-taught kid and it changed my life. That spirit is the most precious thing your country has.
Before you vote, ask yourself one question: is the program you’re voting for making America more like America, or more like France?
Trust me. You don’t want to be France.
GavinNewsom’s Dad retweeted
So I was home last night making dinner. Just as I was pulling the delectable frozen pizza from the oven my daughter called. She said she and her boyfriend were at Bryant Lake Bowl (a local bowling alley here in Minneapolis). They were 90% certain that Robert Plant was there bowling.
At first I scoffed. But she insisted and as we talked her boyfriend chimed in that he was positive that indeed it was Mr Robert Plant.
My heart raced. Led Zeppelin was the first band I obsessed over. The first vinyl I bought was Led Zeppelin III. A couple years later it was the same album I chose as my first CD purchase in 1989. They were foundational in my life and inspired my love of great music.
So I abandoned my dinner and took off in my truck to get there and possibly *fingers crossed* snag a picture with Mr Plant.
Along the way my daughter called, warning me to hurry as it looked like Mr Plant and his entourage were getting ready to leave.
I floored it.
I scored a parking spot right on Lake Street in front of Bryant Lake Bowl. Yes!
I calmly raced into the bowling alley and found that my daughter and her boyfriend with 2 lanes down from Mr Plant. They warned me that Plant's manager was preventing anyone from approaching Mr Plant.
But I knew I had to try. This was Robert friggin Plant, after all. How could I find myself so close to someone so foundational to my life and not try to at least express my gratitude for him and the music he created?
So I calmly approached Mr Plant. His manager obstructed me, shaking his head, "No, mate". I pleaded, "I just need to tell him how much his music has meant to me." "No, mate" his manager said again while shaking his head. I could tell I wasn't going to get anywhere and ultimately I chose to respect his boundaries and move on. I bowled a few rounds with my daughter (with Mr Plant a couple lanes over - and bowling better than me, I might add!), downed my beer and headed home.
I woke up this morning to this picture. It turns out my daughter's boyfriend (who plays in a bluegrass band here in the Twin Cities) struck up a conversation with Mr Plant's bandmates. They spoke for over an hour. Just as Mr Plant and his entourage were getting up to leave my daughter's boyfriend tried to ask for a picture. The manager re-buffed him. But, Mr Plant shrugged him off and motioned them over for a photo.
So this is them, with Mr Plant posing with their leftover nachos.
I wish I was there but it warms my heart that my daughter got to meet a living musical legend. – at Richfield, MN
GavinNewsom’s Dad retweeted
I’m Polish. If France is your future, I come from the end of that road.
France shows you the slow version. We lived the full one – the version where the state doesn’t just take care of everything. It owns everything.
In Poland it arrived with Soviet bayonets. In America it would arrive by vote – slower, softer, with better slogans. But the destination is the same, and so is the mechanism.
It starts with prices. When the state decides what things should cost, prices stop telling the truth. A price is a message: this is scarce, this is wanted, make more of this. Abolish the message, and the whole economy goes deaf. So the shelves emptied – first of meat, then of almost everything.
Every Pole knew the joke. A man walks into a shop: "No meat?" The clerk: "No, sir. Here is no fish. No meat is across the street."
We queued for everything. People wrote their place in line on their palms and kept lists through the night. You waited years for a small car, and often more than a decade for an apartment. Not because Poles were lazy. Because nobody in the system had any reason to produce what we needed.
At work, we had another joke: we pretended to work, and they pretended to pay us.
And the promise of equality? It produced the most unequal system of all. The party elite had their own shops – Poles called them the shops behind the yellow curtains. Those with dollars shopped in special stores. Everyone else got the queue.
Then the system needed informers, because nobody believed in it anymore. Our neighbors were recruited to report on us. You never knew who was listening – the colleague, the friend, sometimes family. So we learned to live a double life: one language in public, another at home.
Those who spoke up got the wolf ticket: no job, no promotion, sometimes no university place for their children. Nobody needed to send them to prison. They just couldn’t live.
The newspapers reported record harvests while the shelves stood empty. Everyone knew. Nobody said it. That is what a society looks like when the lie becomes the system.
In 1950 we were about as rich as Spain. By 1989, Spain was twice as rich. That is what forty years of "fairness" cost us.
Today in America, the method is softer. Your neighbor won’t inform on you to the secret police. Someone will report your post, and you’ll be cancelled – no job, no account, no platform. Different tools, same machine.
We got out. Ten million of us joined Solidarity, and in 1989 a system that looked eternal collapsed. Since then, Poland has become one of the great success stories of Europe – because people were finally free to build.
But we still carry it. More than thirty years later, you can see it in the careful answers, the closed faces - the system leaves faster than the fear does. It takes generations to get out of it fully once you fall into that trap.
Nobody votes for the queue. Nobody votes for the informer. They come with the promise.
Trust me, you don’t want to go down that road.
I’m French. I want to talk to Americans who are about to vote Democrat. Not to insult you. To warn you.
I come from your future.
In France we did everything your progressive politicians promise. Free healthcare, free college, generous welfare, strong unions, heavy regulation, high taxes on the rich, a state that takes care of everything. Public spending close to 57% of GDP, one of the highest on the planet. On paper, it’s the dream.
Here’s what it looks like from the inside. France hasn’t passed a balanced budget since 1974. Our debt is above 3,300 billion euros. Interest on that debt is becoming one of the biggest items in the national budget. Our hospitals are collapsing despite record funding. Our schools rank lower every year. Young people with degrees can’t afford an apartment in the city they were born in. Our best engineers leave for London, Zurich and San Francisco. And the rich you wanted to tax? They left too, and took the jobs with them.
The promise was protection. The result is stagnation.
The worst part is that nobody in France voted for decline. Every single step sounded generous, compassionate, reasonable. One more program. One more regulation. One more tax to fund it. Each step alone makes sense. Fifty years of them, and you wake up in a country that can no longer build a nuclear plant on time or keep its streets safe.
I love America because it’s the one place on earth where people still believe they can build something from nothing. I came to Silicon Valley as a self-taught kid and it changed my life. That spirit is the most precious thing your country has.
Before you vote, ask yourself one question: is the program you’re voting for making America more like America, or more like France?
Trust me. You don’t want to be France.
GavinNewsom’s Dad retweeted
My post about France went viral. Thousands of likes. Many Americans told me: "Democrats aren't socialists. America will never be France." I want to answer that seriously, step by step.
Start with a simple observation. Look at what has gotten cheaper in America over the last 25 years: TVs, phones, software, clothes, toys. Now look at what has exploded: college tuition, healthcare, childcare, housing.
What separates the two lists? The first lives in competitive markets. The second is exactly where government is most involved: subsidies, mandates, licensing, zoning, regulation.
College. Washington lends students almost unlimited money. Universities know the money will always come, so they raise tuition and hire more administrators. The student pays the bill for twenty years. More government money, higher prices.
Housing. Why can't a nurse buy a home in the city where she works? Not because of capitalism. Because of zoning laws, permits, environmental reviews, years of procedure to build a single building. The most expensive places to live in America are the places where it's hardest to build. When building is nearly illegal, prices explode.
Healthcare. The patient almost never sees the price. A third party pays, regulations limit who can compete, and costs climb year after year with no one able to say no.
So here is the trap. The problems you suffer from are not the failure of free markets. They are the places where the market has already been replaced by the state. And the solution you're being offered is more of the same.
That's the Trojan horse. It always works the same way. A real problem. A generous-sounding promise. A program that makes things worse. Then the failure of that program becomes the argument for the next one. People who lived under communism in Poland learned to recognize the lie and the mask the lie wears. The lie never presents itself as a lie. It presents itself as compassion.
In France we are at the end of that road. Debt we can never repay. Young people who can't afford a home. Our best people leaving. And every few years our cities burn. Nobody voted for this. They voted for one more generous promise, fifty years in a row.
If you're a Republican, share this with the Democrat in your life. Not to win an argument. To start a conversation.
If you're a Democrat, I'm not asking you to switch teams. I'm asking you to look at the pattern. Wherever the state took over, life became unaffordable. Don't fix the failures of government with more government.
Stay American. Ask for less state, not more.
I’m French. I want to talk to Americans who are about to vote Democrat. Not to insult you. To warn you.
I come from your future.
In France we did everything your progressive politicians promise. Free healthcare, free college, generous welfare, strong unions, heavy regulation, high taxes on the rich, a state that takes care of everything. Public spending close to 57% of GDP, one of the highest on the planet. On paper, it’s the dream.
Here’s what it looks like from the inside. France hasn’t passed a balanced budget since 1974. Our debt is above 3,300 billion euros. Interest on that debt is becoming one of the biggest items in the national budget. Our hospitals are collapsing despite record funding. Our schools rank lower every year. Young people with degrees can’t afford an apartment in the city they were born in. Our best engineers leave for London, Zurich and San Francisco. And the rich you wanted to tax? They left too, and took the jobs with them.
The promise was protection. The result is stagnation.
The worst part is that nobody in France voted for decline. Every single step sounded generous, compassionate, reasonable. One more program. One more regulation. One more tax to fund it. Each step alone makes sense. Fifty years of them, and you wake up in a country that can no longer build a nuclear plant on time or keep its streets safe.
I love America because it’s the one place on earth where people still believe they can build something from nothing. I came to Silicon Valley as a self-taught kid and it changed my life. That spirit is the most precious thing your country has.
Before you vote, ask yourself one question: is the program you’re voting for making America more like America, or more like France?
Trust me. You don’t want to be France.
GavinNewsom’s Dad retweeted
I’m French. I want to talk to Americans who are about to vote Democrat. Not to insult you. To warn you.
I come from your future.
In France we did everything your progressive politicians promise. Free healthcare, free college, generous welfare, strong unions, heavy regulation, high taxes on the rich, a state that takes care of everything. Public spending close to 57% of GDP, one of the highest on the planet. On paper, it’s the dream.
Here’s what it looks like from the inside. France hasn’t passed a balanced budget since 1974. Our debt is above 3,300 billion euros. Interest on that debt is becoming one of the biggest items in the national budget. Our hospitals are collapsing despite record funding. Our schools rank lower every year. Young people with degrees can’t afford an apartment in the city they were born in. Our best engineers leave for London, Zurich and San Francisco. And the rich you wanted to tax? They left too, and took the jobs with them.
The promise was protection. The result is stagnation.
The worst part is that nobody in France voted for decline. Every single step sounded generous, compassionate, reasonable. One more program. One more regulation. One more tax to fund it. Each step alone makes sense. Fifty years of them, and you wake up in a country that can no longer build a nuclear plant on time or keep its streets safe.
I love America because it’s the one place on earth where people still believe they can build something from nothing. I came to Silicon Valley as a self-taught kid and it changed my life. That spirit is the most precious thing your country has.
Before you vote, ask yourself one question: is the program you’re voting for making America more like America, or more like France?
Trust me. You don’t want to be France.
Je n'ai jamais été aussi optimiste. Pas malgré le chaos actuel, mais grâce à lui.
Je vais vous expliquer pourquoi l'empire du mensonge construit par la gauche depuis cinquante ans va s'effondrer, et pourquoi ce n'est pas une opinion mais une question de physique.
Tout commence avec un mouvement né sur X il y a quelques années : l'effective accelerationism, ou e/acc.
Au départ, c'est une idée presque thermodynamique. L'univers a une tendance de fond : la matière s'organise pour capter et dissiper l'énergie de plus en plus efficacement. Une cellule fait ça. Une forêt fait ça. Une civilisation fait ça. Le marché, la technologie et le capital sont les formes les plus avancées de ce processus. Ce sont des machines à transformer l'énergie en intelligence, en abondance, en complexité.
La thèse e/acc est simple : il ne faut pas freiner cette dynamique, il faut l'embrasser. Plus d'énergie, plus de calcul, plus d'innovation, plus de croissance. Monter sur l'échelle de Kardashev au lieu de s'excuser d'exister. En face, il y a les « décels » : ceux qui veulent ralentir, réguler, taxer, interdire, culpabiliser. Ceux qui voient le progrès comme une menace à contenir plutôt qu'une force à libérer.
Mais il y a une dimension de l'accélération dont presque personne ne parle. L'accélération n'est pas seulement un moteur. C'est un filtre.
Pensez à n'importe quel organisme. Un corps humain en bonne santé peut courir. Il accélère, son cœur pompe plus fort, ses muscles consomment plus d'oxygène, et tout fonctionne parce que le système est bien conçu. Maintenant, prenez un corps malade. Des artères bouchées, un cœur fragile, des organes qui ne communiquent plus entre eux. Faites-le courir. Il ne va pas plus vite vers la santé. Il va plus vite vers l'infarctus.
L'accélération ne corrige pas les défauts d'un système. Elle les amplifie. Un système sain qui accélère devient plus fort. Un système dysfonctionnel qui accélère meurt plus vite.
Et c'est exactement ce qui est en train d'arriver au projet que je vais appeler par son nom : le projet globalo-socialiste. Celui porté par les démocrates américains, par la technostructure de Bruxelles, par les entités supranationales qui n'ont de comptes à rendre à personne, par un réseau d'ONG financées par l'argent public pour dicter la morale aux peuples qui les financent.
Regardez ce que ce projet a produit.
Des États obèses qui prélèvent plus de la moitié de la richesse produite et qui délivrent des services publics de plus en plus dégradés. Des écoles qui n'apprennent plus à lire mais qui apprennent à culpabiliser. Des hôpitaux à bout de souffle malgré des budgets records. Une immigration massive sans aucune exigence d'assimilation, présentée comme une chance par ceux qui n'en subissent jamais les conséquences. Une désindustrialisation organisée au nom d'une écologie punitive qui délocalise la pollution en Chine et l'emploi avec. Des normes, des normes, et encore des normes, jusqu'à ce qu'il devienne plus simple de créer une entreprise à Austin qu'à Lyon. Une justice qui excuse le coupable et soupçonne la victime. Une censure qui avance masquée sous le nom de « lutte contre la désinformation ». Et une jeunesse à qui l'on a expliqué que son pays, son histoire et sa civilisation étaient des crimes à expier.
Ce n'est pas un ensemble de bugs. C'est la conception elle-même.
Maintenant, changeons d'image. Voyez ce système comme un moteur.
Un bon moteur, c'est de la précision. Des pièces qui s'emboîtent, un minimum de frottements, une énergie qui se transforme en mouvement. Le marché libre, la propriété, la responsabilité individuelle, la monnaie saine : c'est ça, un moteur bien conçu. L'information circule par les prix, chaque erreur est sanctionnée, chaque bonne idée est récompensée.
Le moteur socialiste, lui, est mal conçu dès le départ. Il ne tourne pas sur la création de valeur mais sur sa redistribution. Il ne récompense pas la performance, il la taxe. Il ne laisse pas les erreurs mourir, il les subventionne. Résultat : ça frotte partout. Ça chauffe. Ça grince. Chaque pièce use la pièce d'à côté.
Et que font ceux qui pilotent ce moteur ? Au lieu de le reconcevoir, ils changent les pièces. En permanence. Une pièce cède, on en remet une neuve. Encore une. Encore une.
Ces pièces de rechange, vous les connaissez. Elles s'appellent la dette publique et la planche à billets.
La France a dépassé les 3 300 milliards d'euros de dette et n'a pas voté un budget à l'équilibre depuis le milieu des années 70. Les États-Unis ont franchi les 37 000 milliards de dollars. Les banques centrales ont maintenu des taux à zéro pendant des années, imprimé des montants que plus personne ne sait se représenter, et quand l'inflation est arrivée, elles ont fait semblant d'être surprises. Milton Friedman l'avait pourtant dit il y a cinquante ans : l'inflation est toujours et partout un phénomène monétaire.
Chaque crise, on rachète du temps avec de l'argent qui n'existe pas. Chaque problème structurel, on l'arrose de liquidités pour masquer le bruit du moteur. Mais les frottements sont toujours là. Ils s'accumulent. Et la facture des pièces de rechange finit par coûter plus cher que le moteur lui-même : la charge de la dette devient l'un des premiers postes de dépense de l'État français.
Pendant des décennies, ce moteur mal conçu a pu tourner à 3 000 tours par minute. Lentement. Bruyamment. Mais il tournait. Le monde allait assez doucement pour que le bricolage permanent suffise à masquer l'absurdité de la conception.
Et puis l'IA est arrivée.
L'intelligence artificielle, c'est l'accélération la plus brutale de l'histoire humaine. Ce qui prenait des années prend des mois. Ce qui prenait des mois prend des jours. Des entreprises de dix personnes font ce que faisaient des entreprises de mille. Le capital, les talents et les idées se déplacent à la vitesse de la lumière vers les endroits où ils sont bien traités.
L'IA vient de faire passer le moteur de 3 000 à 20 000 tours par minute.
Posez-vous la question qu'un ingénieur se poserait. Que se passe-t-il quand on fait monter à 20 000 tours un moteur mal conçu, rafistolé de partout, qui frotte à chaque rotation ?
Il explose.
Pas parce que quelqu'un l'a saboté. Parce que la physique ne négocie pas.
Et c'est exactement ce que nous voyons en ce moment, sous nos yeux.
L'insécurité qui gagne des villes entières qui étaient paisibles il y a vingt ans. Le conflit de Gaza importé dans nos rues et instrumentalisé par une gauche qui a troqué l'ouvrier contre le clientélisme communautaire. La misère qui revient dans un pays qui a pourtant un des taux de dépense publique les plus élevés au monde. Des classes moyennes qui travaillent et n'arrivent plus à se loger. Une France fracturée, où l'on parle désormais à voix haute de risque de guerre civile.
Ce ne sont pas des accidents. Ce ne sont pas des « crises » successives sans lien entre elles. Ce sont les pièces du moteur qui commencent à voler.
C'est la conséquence logique de cinquante ans de socialisme international : un système qui a détruit la responsabilité, la frontière, la monnaie, l'école et la fierté, et qui découvre qu'à haute vitesse, tout ce qui a été détruit ne peut plus être compensé par une ligne de dette supplémentaire.
Et c'est là que je deviens profondément optimiste.
Parce qu'une fois qu'on a compris ça, on comprend aussi que leur projet a une date de fin. Pas une date politique. Une date physique. Un système qui consomme plus qu'il ne produit, qui punit ceux qui créent et récompense ceux qui détruisent, qui finance son présent en hypothéquant l'avenir de ses enfants, ne peut pas durer indéfiniment. Il n'est pas soutenable par construction. L'IA ne fait qu'avancer l'échéance.
Le mensonge a besoin de lenteur pour survivre. Il a besoin que les conséquences arrivent assez tard pour qu'on puisse accuser quelqu'un d'autre. Dans un monde à 20 000 tours, les conséquences arrivent immédiatement. Le mensonge n'a plus le temps de se cacher.
Alors, que faire quand le moteur explose ? On en construit un nouveau. Et cette fois, on le conçoit correctement.
Écoutez Elon Musk. Un homme qui a reconstruit l'industrie spatiale, la voiture électrique et l'infrastructure satellite en partant d'un principe simple : revenir aux premiers principes. Ne pas demander « comment on a toujours fait », mais « qu'est-ce qui est physiquement vrai ». C'est exactement ce dont nos États ont besoin : arrêter de rafistoler et repartir de la base.
Écoutez Javier Milei. Un homme dont tout le monde se moquait, arrivé à la tête d'un pays ravagé par un siècle de péronisme, et qui a pris la tronçonneuse au sens propre. Ministères supprimés, dépenses coupées, inflation écrasée, excédent budgétaire retrouvé. Il a prouvé une chose que la gauche jurait impossible : on peut démonter le moteur socialiste et le peuple peut le soutenir.
Écoutez Milton Friedman. Relisez-le. Tout était déjà là. La monnaie, la liberté de choisir, la responsabilité, les effets pervers de l'intervention publique. Il disait que si l'on confiait le Sahara au gouvernement fédéral, il y aurait pénurie de sable en cinq ans. On a ri. On a confié le sable. On a eu la pénurie.
Revenez à une hiérarchie et au respect du beau. Une civilisation ne tient pas que sur des chiffres. Elle tient sur l'idée qu'il existe des choses supérieures à d'autres. Que l'excellence vaut mieux que la médiocrité. Que le mérite compte. Qu'une cathédrale est plus belle qu'un parking. Que transmettre est un devoir et pas une oppression. Le relativisme a été l'arme culturelle de ce projet. Le retour du beau, du vrai et de l'exigence en sera l'antidote.
Et enfin, faites le Nuremberg du communisme. Le nazisme a été jugé, documenté, enseigné, et il est devenu moralement indéfendable. Le communisme, avec ses dizaines de millions de morts, ses goulags, ses famines organisées et ses peuples réduits en esclavage, n'a jamais eu ce procès. On peut encore porter un t-shirt du Che dans une université sans que personne ne cille. Tant que ce procès historique et moral n'aura pas eu lieu, l'idéologie continuera de muter et de revenir sous de nouveaux noms. Il faut nommer les crimes, les enseigner, honorer les victimes, et rendre cette idéologie aussi infréquentable que celle qu'elle prétendait combattre.
Le monde qui vient sera plus rapide, plus exigeant et plus impitoyable avec les systèmes mal conçus. C'est une terrible nouvelle pour ceux qui ont vécu du mensonge.
Et c'est la meilleure nouvelle de notre génération pour tous ceux qui veulent construire.
Le moteur va exploser. À nous de dessiner le suivant.
GavinNewsom’s Dad retweeted
what an awful thing to surprise someone with
WWE's John Cena surprises Make-A-Wish 7-year-old with cancer trib.al/SxX9dAm
GavinNewsom’s Dad retweeted
WATCH: Britain’s ITN has released ~4 hours of previously sealed 1989 Tiananmen footage — filmed by the team that smuggled the tapes out of China.
The material, archived for ~35 years, includes a 2-hour crackdown compilation and 90 minutes of secretly filmed raw rushes from the days after, showing military trucks on Beijing streets, crowds, and the aftermath.
GavinNewsom’s Dad retweeted
Mike Ditka was scheduled to sing the seventh inning stretch on July 5th, 1998. This was the year that Harry Caray died and the “guest conductor” was new at Wrigley Field. Ditka got stuck in traffic and was running late. By the time the top of the seventh ended, Ditka was still not there and Steve Stone and Chip Caray stalled for time. Finally Ditka busts into the press box, grabs the mic, and screams Take Me Out To The Ball Game in twenty two seconds! Organist Gary Pressy could barely keep up! The crowd roared with approval! R.I.P. Mike Ditka
GavinNewsom’s Dad retweeted
July 2016, I’m working as the Asst. Chief Flight Instructor at the Culver Military Academy in Indiana, when I get a phone call from our chief pilot, needs me to immediately drive back to Chicago, and help fly a VIP to Kentucky the next day on our Citation.
Days before, I had seen in the news former Bears Coach Ryan (credited for the ‘86 Bears Super Bowl win) had recently passed away, and as it turns out, we’d be flying Coach Ditka & his wife to the funeral.
Now, this was my first celebrity flight, and I couldn’t wait to get through the day so I could tell my dad (a big Bears fan) all about it.
Coach & his wife arrive, board our plane, and off we go. After we land, the line crew pull up the rental car, and to our surprise, Coach announces we’re now their chauffeurs for the day. So here I am, driving Coach Ditka, and the Mrs, to the funeral home for the wake.
We pull up to this old school Kentucky home turned funeral parlor. News crews everywhere, state troopers directing traffic, and we find a spot to park. “Okay, we’ll wait here, just let us know when you’re ready.”, I announce. “Oh no, you boys are coming in with us.”, says Mrs. Ditka. Okay then.
We follow them in, walk down the hallway and into a large room. There’s a line waiting to pass by Coach Ryan’s casket, and immediately, I start to point out (in my head, of course) “there’s an ‘86 Bear, there’s an ‘86 Bear, another ‘86 Bear….”. Now, not having met or known Coach Ryan or any of his family, we politely excuse ourselves to the kitchen and graze on some snacks.
After maybe forty-five minutes, Coach Ditka finds us, and announces they want to drive into town for lunch. On the way in, we pass a small cigar shop, Coach says “this is good, pull over.”. We park, everyone bails out, and Coach makes a bee line for the cigar shop. I poke around alongside him, while he finds a few cigars to his liking, makes his purchase, and we all head next door to a panini joint.
Sandwiches in hand, we step outside to enjoy lunch at the tables out front. It was here where Coachs personality really shined, because every few minutes or so, a passerby would recognize him, approach, and politely ask for a photo. Without missing a beat, Coach would put down his sandwich, wipe his mouth, stand up, shake the strangers hand, then hand me their camera phone and stand next to them for a photo. He must have stood at least a dozen times during lunch, and every time he was just as glad to meet this new person as he was the last.
With lunch complete, we then traveled to the church for the funeral, and wouldn’t you know it, the Mrs again insisted we join them. “Now my dad’s really going to flip.” I think, as we enter for what would be a full Catholic mass.
Having grown up in a Catholic family, I knew what to expect. I sat between the captain and Mrs Ditka, with Coach on the other side of her. The mass was very nice, and soon came time for the sign of peace. I shook a few hands in the pews around me, but the hand I really wanted to shake, was Coach Ditka’s. “Peace be with you, Coach.”. “You too, kid.”. It brought a grin from ear to ear I’ll never forget.
After the funeral, it was back to the plane for the return trip to Chicago. Coach tipped u$ both very generously, before they excused themselves to our company picnic table, while they waited for their driver.
The picture below was taken by a friend from his office, of me making sure the Ditkas were taken care of while they waited. Two of the nicest people I’ve ever met.
Peace be with you, Coach.































