Blue Dog Coalition/New Democrat This isn't your father's Democratic Party. The wolves are in the hen house and are coming for more.
Canaryville, Chicago
Joined May 2024
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- Following319
- Followers338
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Stop Communism retweeted
Nobody talks enough about how legitimately dangerous Ms Rachel is. She’s purposefully misinforming millions of young moms on Instagram all under the guise of “empathy and kindness”
Evil.
After helping push a man to his death from a moving Red Line train, her phone searches allegedly included “good places to lay low” and “who are the police looking for?”
Now, she’s charged with first-degree murder.
cwbchicago.com/2026/09/ventr…
Stop Communism retweeted
Fascinating. Illinois' gas prices today are nearly 90 cents higher than Indiana's.
Illinois: $4.91 per gallon
Indiana: $4.03 per gallon
A huge part of the difference is higher gasoline taxes in Illinois. Pritzker and the legislature doubled the motor fuel tax in 2019, and also made sure that the tax rises with inflation each year.
Illinoisans also pay a sales tax on gasoline (Illinois is one of just a handful of states with a sales tax on gasoline). Unsurprisingly, as gas prices go up, the taxes go up.
Grossly inflated gasoline prices. Just one more reason we need political change.
#twill @ILGOP @GovPritzker
Stop Communism retweeted
Motaz Azaiza is forcing a reckoning the “pro‑Palestine” movement never anticipated. Because he’s celebrated by activists, politicians, and journalists and can’t be smeared as a “Zionist shill,” his admission carries weight: Gaza’s journalism space functioned under Hamas’s control, and any reporter who deviated from the group’s narrative risked “disappearing behind the sun.” That single truth reshapes how we understand the stories pushed out of Gaza since October 7 and explains why dissent against Hamas’s rule never surfaced publicly. Western journalists and outsiders, unaware of this coercive ecosystem, ended up amplifying Hamas’s information warfare rather than scrutinizing it.
This account is great.
Acorns weren’t a side dish for California’s Indigenous peoples. For the Kumeyaay in the south, the Chumash and Salinan along the coast, the Ohlone, Pomo, and Miwok of the Bay and Sierra foothills, the Yokuts of the Central Valley, the Maidu and Mono farther inland, and the Yurok, Hupa, and Karuk in the north, they were the staff of life, the one food you could count on when the salmon run was late or the deer were scarce.
Acorns were a California staple for thousands of years. Charred shells turn up in central California sites going back nearly 10,000 years. Intensive processing, bedrock mortars, fine flour, careful leaching, became widespread a few thousand years later. By the time Europeans arrived, most of the state’s Native nations had built their calendars and their kitchens around the oak harvest.
Not every acorn was the same. Tanoak was the prize for flavor among the Pomo, Yurok, Hupa, Chumash, and Ohlone, rich, nutty, and worth the extra work. Black oak, a favorite of the Yokuts in the valley and foothills, ran high in fat and made a heavier, more satisfying mush. Valley oak was milder and needed less leaching. Coast live oak was oilier but more tannic and took longer to sweeten. A few kinds, like Gambel oak on the drier edges of the state, were naturally sweeter and could skip some of the washing.
People knew their local trees the way a farmer knows a field: which grove came in first, which nuts stored best, which flour tasted best after a long winter.
They earned that place. Once the tannins are washed out, acorns are dense, filling food: rich in healthy fats, complex carbohydrates, a useful amount of protein, and minerals like potassium, magnesium, copper, and manganese. Dried and stored, they kept for years. A family granary full of acorns meant you could get through a hard winter.
The work began in the fall. Men and women knocked ripe acorns from the trees with long poles or climbed to shake the branches. The nuts were dried in the sun or near fires so they wouldn’t mold, then packed into elevated granaries lined with wormwood or pine needles to keep insects and rodents out. A good year could feed a village until the next harvest, and sometimes well beyond it.
When it was time to cook, the shells were cracked with a hammerstone on a stone anvil. The thin reddish skin around the kernel was winnowed away in a scoop-shaped basket or scraped off. Then came the long, rhythmic work at the bedrock mortar: women pounding the kernels with stone pestles until they became fine flour, sifting it in baskets, and sending the coarse bits back for another round. Those worn cup-shaped holes in the granite are still scattered across California for a reason.
The flour still tasted bitter. So it was spread in a shallow basin scooped in clean sand, often lined with grape or maple leaves, and water was poured over it again and again, cold water from a stream, or warm water heated with hot rocks in a basket, until the tannins drained away and a taste test said it was ready. That leaching step is what turned a harsh nut into food.
The leached meal was mixed with water and cooked by stone boiling: glowing rocks lifted from the fire with wooden tongs, dropped into a watertight basket, and stirred constantly with a paddle so the mush wouldn’t stick or scorch. Among the Miwok this thick porridge was nupa. Other tribes had their own names for the same nourishing soup or gruel. The same flour was patted into cakes and baked on hot stones or in earth ovens. Some cooks mixed a little red clay into the dough. People said it made the bread sweeter. Others said it acted like yeast and helped the cakes rise and hold together. Acorn was everyday food and feast food: eaten with venison, salmon, seeds, greens, or simply on its own.
It was skilled, time-consuming work, mostly done by women, often together. It required good baskets, good stone, clean water, and knowledge passed down for generations. But it turned California’s oak woodlands into a pantry that lasted millennia. That’s why the mortar rocks are still there. And that’s why people are still making acorn.
Stop Communism retweeted
Acorns weren’t a side dish for California’s Indigenous peoples. For the Kumeyaay in the south, the Chumash and Salinan along the coast, the Ohlone, Pomo, and Miwok of the Bay and Sierra foothills, the Yokuts of the Central Valley, the Maidu and Mono farther inland, and the Yurok, Hupa, and Karuk in the north, they were the staff of life, the one food you could count on when the salmon run was late or the deer were scarce.
Acorns were a California staple for thousands of years. Charred shells turn up in central California sites going back nearly 10,000 years. Intensive processing, bedrock mortars, fine flour, careful leaching, became widespread a few thousand years later. By the time Europeans arrived, most of the state’s Native nations had built their calendars and their kitchens around the oak harvest.
Not every acorn was the same. Tanoak was the prize for flavor among the Pomo, Yurok, Hupa, Chumash, and Ohlone, rich, nutty, and worth the extra work. Black oak, a favorite of the Yokuts in the valley and foothills, ran high in fat and made a heavier, more satisfying mush. Valley oak was milder and needed less leaching. Coast live oak was oilier but more tannic and took longer to sweeten. A few kinds, like Gambel oak on the drier edges of the state, were naturally sweeter and could skip some of the washing.
People knew their local trees the way a farmer knows a field: which grove came in first, which nuts stored best, which flour tasted best after a long winter.
They earned that place. Once the tannins are washed out, acorns are dense, filling food: rich in healthy fats, complex carbohydrates, a useful amount of protein, and minerals like potassium, magnesium, copper, and manganese. Dried and stored, they kept for years. A family granary full of acorns meant you could get through a hard winter.
The work began in the fall. Men and women knocked ripe acorns from the trees with long poles or climbed to shake the branches. The nuts were dried in the sun or near fires so they wouldn’t mold, then packed into elevated granaries lined with wormwood or pine needles to keep insects and rodents out. A good year could feed a village until the next harvest, and sometimes well beyond it.
When it was time to cook, the shells were cracked with a hammerstone on a stone anvil. The thin reddish skin around the kernel was winnowed away in a scoop-shaped basket or scraped off. Then came the long, rhythmic work at the bedrock mortar: women pounding the kernels with stone pestles until they became fine flour, sifting it in baskets, and sending the coarse bits back for another round. Those worn cup-shaped holes in the granite are still scattered across California for a reason.
The flour still tasted bitter. So it was spread in a shallow basin scooped in clean sand, often lined with grape or maple leaves, and water was poured over it again and again, cold water from a stream, or warm water heated with hot rocks in a basket, until the tannins drained away and a taste test said it was ready. That leaching step is what turned a harsh nut into food.
The leached meal was mixed with water and cooked by stone boiling: glowing rocks lifted from the fire with wooden tongs, dropped into a watertight basket, and stirred constantly with a paddle so the mush wouldn’t stick or scorch. Among the Miwok this thick porridge was nupa. Other tribes had their own names for the same nourishing soup or gruel. The same flour was patted into cakes and baked on hot stones or in earth ovens. Some cooks mixed a little red clay into the dough. People said it made the bread sweeter. Others said it acted like yeast and helped the cakes rise and hold together. Acorn was everyday food and feast food: eaten with venison, salmon, seeds, greens, or simply on its own.
It was skilled, time-consuming work, mostly done by women, often together. It required good baskets, good stone, clean water, and knowledge passed down for generations. But it turned California’s oak woodlands into a pantry that lasted millennia. That’s why the mortar rocks are still there. And that’s why people are still making acorn.
Hasan Piker on "The Axios Show": America worse than al-Qaeda "pound for pound"
axios.com/2026/09/17/hasan-p…
Raymond Horsch may have been a serial killer? You don't say.
nbcnews.com/news/us-news/phi…
@jonkentcomrade now you make complete sense. Ofc you’re a Platner Stan. And you had the fucking nerve to ride me over defending Pres. Clinton and you the one caping for the real serial rapist.
You are low. SMH
Crazy.
speechless. at this point, we're talking $7/gal diesel becoming a possibility in the days ahead in more places, specifically Great Lakes- MI, IN, OH, IL (less so WI- lower taxes)
These people are freaks.
