This is it…. how to talk about the Climate Catastrophe hoax without dismissing it all but without needing to go into the complete details of every scientific climate theory ever invented, tested, proved, disproved and replaced with something better.
I’m talking about how simulations work, what the atmosphere is composed of, what 400 parts per million actually means and why we say that instead of 0.04% even though its the same.
Man is hugely resilient and the planet is too. Together we’ll solve problems only as long as we don’t install political systems and governance that destroy human ingenuity. Installing globalised communistic or socialist systems seems to be what underlies all of those pushing the climate crisis hoax and their Green New Deal and other delusional focusing on CO₂ as the only thing that matters.
In the end I’m optimistic that man can solve all problems of changing climate whether we made it change or not. But not through communism, socialism or globalism and central control.
My previous important discussions on Climate Change:
I picked up the urge to watch this video of Trump at the wall from Dan Bongino’s podcast. I’m glad I did watch the whole thing. All through Trump’s 2015/16 campaign, and especially before his nomination, I watched his arena act. It was always a fantastic combination of great story telling and borderline stand up comedy. This was Trump before the teleprompter spoiled him. Later he developed the ability to wander off script a bit more but the teleprompter was still a disaster.
This is Trump holding an impromptu show and tell for the sceptical press. He brings in the experts around him, he praises the workers, he never takes credit for other people’s hard work. We don’t see it here but I’d love to know if he handed out $100 tips to the construction workers that day as we know he does with all the staff at hotels and other places he stops.
When he’s speaking about building, he knows his stuff. He understands how concrete and steel combine, different concrete formulations, densities and how they have to be poured. He fundamentally knows this business. He wanted to talk about the high tech systems, he was gently persuaded not to go into details. He might have been the guy at the top of his companies, but it is blindingly obvious he spent a whole lot of time on construction sites actually talking to and watching what craftsmen and labourers did at his companies.
This is the Trump that won the heartlands of America. This is what he needs to do more of.
Tommy Robinson was finally released from his super max, isolation prison. Insanity. Good to seem him out and very good to hear his voice again. I give a bit of a run down on Web 3.0, the decentralisation of applications and web sites. This is the next generation on from using monolithic sites like Facebook and Google. It’s no wonder that these Goliaths tried to crush this nascent tech with their illegal crypto advertising ban.
Once again I’m explaining why 3speak.online is different and why I’m posting my material there instead of YouTube. One announcement: on the 6th of October I’ll have $50 to hand out for great comments on my videos. This is rotating promotion from 3speak giving me the power of their account to award upvotes on comments. I’ll be upvoting comments left within the last week on 6th October!
Here’s another little bonus that won’t make it as a full podcast on its own: I flew around Beit Shemesh the other day and talked about Pewdiepie and the ADL.
One year ago a friend of mine was murdered in cold blood: stabbed in the neck from behind by a 17 year old kid. Instead of just falling down (and perhaps applying pressure to his wound and maybe surviving) he turned, chased his attacker and shot at him. This prevented the terrorist from finding any more victims (he was running toward a young woman). I recorded a long YouTube video about it at the time.
That friend, Ari Fuld, comes from a large family. One of his brothers wrote the following on Facebook this morning and I want to share it all. When you hear there has been a terrorist attack, do you ever stop and think about those affected? I do, every single time. I know so many directly touched by the Jihad here in Israel. My friend Kay Wilson (read her book) and Arnold Roth and his wife whose daughter was murdered just to name a few.
These stories tear me up but they do nothing to stop me and millions of other Jews from wanting to live in the land where our spirituality, our laws, our peoplehood and our nation was forged. I’m home.
I’ve never told this story, at least not in a public manner. Honestly, not sure I’ll make it through this post, but if you are reading this, I decided to hit “Publish”.
It was a Sunday morning like any Sunday morning. I was at Hometalk doing my thing. I had a few tabs open on my browser, like I always do. One of them was Israeli news.
I opened that tab just to check what’s happening in the country and there it was. “Another day, another freaking terrorist attack.” Those were my thoughts.
Only this attack was different. No, not because my brother was the victim. I had no idea about that and was only going to find out later. This one was different because it was recorded. On video. By surveillance cameras.
That means that on that website there was a big Play button. The video. What does one do? They click Play. And so I did.
What the heck was I was watching? A Palestinian kid stab a grown man, a fairly large man, and then the man turns around and chases the terrorist down after he was already stabbed? Wait, what? He just jumped over a wall? He shot him. Who was this guy and what was running through his veins because it sure wasn’t the same stuff I had in my veins. “What a hero”, I thought to myself!
So I did what I always do and I asked in the Fuld WhatsApp group, and I quote, “Is everyone ok? 😀”
Yes. Smiley and all.
Now here is where things get blurry. Doni, my older brother, the one who is one older than Ari in the lineup, Doni called me. As I remember it, he said two words to me. “It’s Ari.”
I had no idea what he was saying. What was he talking about? What was Ari?
I quickly grabbed my stuff and raced to the hospital. Like I don’t know how I made it there in one piece. On the way, I called Doni for an update. He said “Don’t rush.”
It was over.
That moment was the end and the beginning of the hell that was the year that followed.
The hospital. That room. Miriam. Natan. My parents. Everyone. A scene burned on my brain forever. Whether I like it or not.
The moment Natan walked in from school. Frozen. Tears. Shock. Hugs. No one rehearsed such a scenario. What do you even say? What do you do? How do you minimize the trauma? You can’t. You can try. But you can’t. His Bar Mitzvah was around the corner.
“It can’t be.” My mom kept repeating those words. She was right. It couldn’t be. Ari? The bull! The lion, as he’d later be named? Taken down by a teenager with a knife? Later it all became clear. That sprint? That jump over the wall? The terrorist was after his next victim. Ari saw that. No blood in his veins? That’s not an excuse. So he sprinted. And saved her. She became part of the family as a result.
The thoughts rushing in my head from that moment till now. Never stopped for a second. The questions, do we want to see the body and say goodbye? What were they all talking about? This seriously cannot be reality. Just no.
When people say “it feels like yesterday” about an event in the distant past, I didn’t think they meant it literally. This feels like I just watched that video. This second. I better rush to the hospital.
A year? No way.
But I had to get organized at that point. What about my kids? This was all over national news. How would they find out? From their friends in school? My God.
Left the hospital to rush to them. We split up and I went to tell Aviel. Big mistake. He’s a very sensitive one. Very.
The moment I told him? I’ll never ever forget that second. Ever.
I got to his school. They had isolated him. So he didn’t find out. He had no idea why. They said they wanted to give him some feedback. When he saw me, his confusion increased.
I asked his rabbi to leave us alone. I told him “Uncle Ari. Something bad happened. An attack. He saved someone’s life. But he’s gone.”
He didn’t cry. He didn’t have tears flowing down his face. He had a tear. One. Sat there. Still. One tear. They were close. They clowned around a lot. He was his big mighty black belt uncle. One tear.
For the next few weeks and months, I tried to get back to myself. Failed miserably. My family is insanely resilient. That’s a word I didn’t comprehend before. I didn’t understand what that meant. Nor did I understand the word trauma.
But they lived. They mourned. They cried. They suffered. They still are. Endlessly. But from where I was sitting, I was the only one who couldn’t put on my socks in the morning. I’m probably wrong. I know I am actually. We all react differently but all I know is, I was very concerned for my future. My well being wasn’t guaranteed anymore. My stability wasn’t obvious anymore, not emotional, physical, or financial. Nothing was for sure any more.
I was the only brother who didn’t speak at the funeral. Me, the brother who makes a living from talking. But I couldn’t. Talk. I couldn’t.
I try not to think about that. Maybe I should have. How could I not? I tell myself I had nothing to add to what everyone else said. It’s true. It was the middle of the night. Should I have spoken just to speak? What would I have said? How would I have controlled the uncontrollable crying) the words wouldn’t have come out anyway. I tell myself that. Repeatedly.
Luckily, my father, the rock of this family, the one who told us countless times over the past year that this is the card we were dealt and we need to live, luckily he spoke on my behalf and brought the world to tears.
Over the next 12 months, I learned about heroism. I thought I knew Miriam. I didn’t. She taught me who she was. Like who she really was. A hero. A superhero. Just like her husband.
I thought I knew Tamar. I didn’t. I got to know her. A rock. Like her Abba. She got engaged and married to Michaya, a man Ari loved.
Naomi. “How was she strong?” A question I asked myself thousands of times. Thousands.
Yakir. A 6” 6’ giant whose insides make his physical body seem microscopic. And Natan, such maturity. Strength. The little guy is anything but little.
My brothers? Broken but strong. Every one of them.
As for me, there were books. There were words. There were stories. There were messages. Everything contributed a little bit to helping me get out of bed.
Ari created a tsunami in this world the ripples of which I believe we’ll feel for decades. He left this world the way only he would want to leave this world. He wrote the script of his death and that script was his life. The life of a hero.
He left behind a legacy of a hero, an extended family of heroes, a group of close friends who are all heroes, and me, his very sad little brother.
I recorded this over a week ago, the video went up quickly on 3speak but it’s taken me a while to get back into the grove with updating my own website. I’ve got to say that I’m increasingly of the opinion that Steem provides a better blogging platform than my own site. I will explore the reasons why in the future but for now I’m still updating here.