I can't stop listening to this song. Best thing that came out of the World cup being in the United States this year. 🇺🇸 Watching this compilation of fans from all over the world at the 2026 World Cup in America is so heartwarming. USA USA USA 🇺🇸

They've made their country proud 🇺🇸 The @USMNT huddle after defeating Australia 2-0 to make the knockout round of the 2026 FIFA World Cup

There will be a new bill introduced in the next few days in both the US House and Senate to help those who served on NTTR. This is a link to one of the stories: reviewjournal.com/news/polit…

If you pitched this as a screenplay, every studio would reject it for being too on-the-nose. Fernando Mendoza was a 2-star recruit ranked 2,149th in his high school class. Zero FBS scholarship offers. Not one. He walked on at Cal, fought for a starting job, transferred to Indiana for his senior year, then led them to 16-0 and the first national title in school history. Heisman, Walter Camp, Maxwell, Davey O'Brien, Manning, Big Ten MVP. 41 TDs, 72% completion, 8-to-0 TD-to-INT ratio in the playoffs. The Raiders took him #1 overall Thursday night. $54.56M fully guaranteed. Only the third player ever to win the Heisman, win a national championship, and go first overall the next spring. Burrow. Newton. Mendoza. Then he skipped Pittsburgh. The biggest stage in football, the moment every kid imagines from the second they pick up a ball, and Fernando watched the call from his living room in Florida because his mom Elsa is in a wheelchair and the travel is hard for her. She was diagnosed with MS when he was 4. She wrote a letter to her sons in The Players Tribune in 2015 promising the disease "won't affect us in the ways that matter." The part nobody talks about: while every other top pick was on stage, Fernando announced the Mendoza Family Fund the same day. $500K personal donation to the National MS Society. Committed to raising $1M over three years. He hasn't taken an NFL snap and he's already given more to a cause than most players donate in a full career. He and his brother Alberto have already raised $360K through the Mendoza Bros. Burger at BuffaLouie's in Bloomington. At Christmas, he handed four families dealing with MS $10,000 each for an Adidas shopping spree. Both his parents are children of Cuban refugees who fled Castro. His dad rowed at Brown, won a Junior World Championship in 1987, and played high school football in Miami next to a teammate named Mario Cristobal. Fernando beat his dad's old teammate in the national championship game in January. Every athlete talks about playing for their family. Fernando actually did it.

Thomas Sowell is 95 years old. Let that number sit with you. Ninety-five years on this earth, and in all of them, he has never held public office, never had a viral moment, never begged for anyone’s attention. What he has done is write 30 books and spend 50 years of patient research building a body of work that has outlasted every fashionable idea his critics tried to bury him with. While the loudest voices in Washington were chasing polls and the cleverest minds on campus were chasing grants, Sowell was in the library reading the data, tracking the outcomes, and dismantling one bad idea after another. He doesn’t argue feelings. He measures results. He isn’t selling anything. His whole approach boils down to one line that every politician and activist in this country should be forced to recite before they open their mouths: “There are no solutions. There are only trade-offs.” Sit with that, too. Every federal program, every mandate, every well-meaning crusade carries a cost, and somebody pays it. Sowell’s life work has been the simple act of asking who. Listen to him on the “help” our communities have been promised for two generations: “I’ve been doing studies now for 20 years of programs designed to increase equality. They increase inequality.” “Even when the programs are designed for disadvantaged groups, they help the affluent members of the disadvantaged groups, while the lower members of those groups fall further behind than ever before.” That is the whole affirmative action racket laid out in two sentences. The kids from the same zip codes as the Harvard faculty get the slot, while the kids from the neighborhoods that actually need a ladder are told to wait their turn. Sowell says it plain: “The vast majority of blacks who go to places like Harvard, Cornell, and Stanford are not blacks from the ghetto. They’re from the same neighborhoods as the whites there.” The race hustlers don’t want you to know that, because they need the grievance to stay in business. Sowell’s advice to young people cuts right through the hustle: “Stay away from the race hustlers.” “Equip yourself with skills that people are willing to pay for.” That is the whole ball game right there, a matter of skills, work, and accountability rather than slogans, hashtags, or another federal program designed to pad a consultant’s salary while leaving the South Side worse off than before. Here is the line I want every young person in Cincinnati, Cleveland, Columbus, and every other corner of America to read tonight: “Much of the social history of the Western world over the past three decades has involved replacing what worked with what sounded good.” That one sentence explains our schools, our cities, and why the neighborhoods the War on Poverty was supposed to save are in worse shape now than they were before the checks started flowing. Sowell has pushed a whole generation of us to stop reacting and start asking harder questions. What are the incentives? Who actually benefits from this policy? What do the numbers look like five, ten, twenty years later? Ask those questions honestly, and the illusion falls apart. The most dangerous man in America right now isn’t the one shouting on television. He is the 95-year-old professor in Palo Alto who doesn’t need you to agree with him, because he has the data on his side. Ninety-five years of telling the truth. Thank you, Dr. Sowell.