Idiot Noah Builds An Ark When He Could Have Just Paid MOAR Taxes To Stop Climate Change

 

Wake-Up Call - Butt buy MOAR Bitcoin Bitchez! SUCKERS!

As far back as I can remember, I had the rare privilege of growing up under the loving but sharp-eyed guidance of my grandparents, who carried with them not just stories, but a wealth of hard-earned wisdom forged through the darkest economic storms of the last century. My Grandmother, Julie Rennell Lancaster Sleeman, and Grandfather Alan George Sleeman from my father’s side, along with my maternal Grandfather Philip Morgan Woodward, were no strangers to adversity. They didn't just endure hardship—they survived it along with serving in WWII, and they wore it like armor and passed down their battle scars through the tales they shared.

Every moment I spent with them—whether on our cattle ranch in Bilpin, the family home in Sydney, or up on the family ranch in Durambah, Northern NSW—I’d hear the same stories, over and over again. The 1920-1923 depression. The Great Depression of 1929. The horrors and hardships of World War II. As a child, and later as an adolescent, I used to wonder why they kept repeating themselves. Why the same stories on loop? I’d ask my parents, and they’d always say, “They love you, and they want to pass down the family history.”

At the time, I didn’t understand. Why the endless repetition? Why hammer home the same stories as if they were the only ones worth telling? But fast-forward to 2024, and it all clicks into place. Those stories weren’t just tales of survival—they were warnings. They were trying to tell me that history doesn’t just repeat; it echoes with the same intensity and, if you aren’t paying attention, it’ll flatten you before you even see it coming.

The truth is, my grandparents weren't just talking about the past—they were preparing me for the future. A future that has now arrived. The West is at the end of its 100 year economic supercycle, staring down the barrel of a collapse that’s going to make those Great Depressions look like a warm-up act. The signs were always there, but now they’ve come full circle. Their stories weren’t just memories; they were the blueprint for survival. And today, that blueprint is more relevant than ever.

The Erased Depression of 1920-1923: The Fed's Silent Kill Shot Before the 'Official' Great Depression of 1929 Crash—The One They Want You to Remember"

What history books always overlook and neglect to cover or talk about is how they erased the 1920-1923 depression from history because that economic bloodbath is the skeleton key to understanding the dystopian hellscape they’re about to drop on us. The Spanish Flu wasn’t just a pandemic—it was the perfect cover. A global reset button. Sound familiar? They wiped the chessboard clean and started over. Post-WWI, economies were in tatters, millions dead, nations shattered, and what did they do? They engineered a deflationary crisis under the guise of inflation control.

The Federal Reserve, barely a toddler, made its first major move in the world of economic warfare. And just like a kid playing with a loaded gun, they had no clue what they were doing—or maybe they did. This wasn’t about fighting inflation; this was about systemic recalibration. A correction so severe, it vaporized 97% of the market. That’s not just a collapse—that’s financial nuclear war. The Great Depression? Everyone remembers that. But the Forgotten 1920-1923 Depression? That’s the black op that no one talks about, the quiet culling of capital where only the elites survived.

Fast forward to 2024, and here we are—history is repeating itself, but this time the stakes are planetary. The mRNA COVID lockdowns, supply chain, global shortages, and the AI-driven unemployment wave is the new economic pandemic. The same clowns running the game in 1920 are at it again, but they’ve traded in the gold standard for fiat illusions and debt-driven fantasies. Inflation isn’t creeping up on us—it’s an orchestrated onslaught designed to annihilate the middle class. The masses won’t even see it coming until they wake up one day, broke, unemployed, and staring down the barrel of total control.

The Fed’s dramatically reducing interest rates today like it’s 1920 all over again, but here’s the kicker: they know damn well what they’re doing. This isn’t about managing inflation; it’s about triggering an economic supernova that will wipe out wealth on a scale so vast, it’ll make the Great Depression look like a weekend recession. They’re not trying to stop inflation—they’re trying to reset the global economy. This is a monetary purge.

And what’s the game plan after the crash? Simple: consolidate power. The Fed, central banks, and governments will step in like saviors, bailing out the system they intentionally blew up. But who gets saved? Not you. Not me. The hedge fund vultures, the sovereign wealth funds, and the political elites will scoop up the world for pennies on the dollar while you’re left holding the bag.

And let’s not forget gold—ah yes, the bane of their fiat existence. In 1929, they made it illegal for everyday citizens in the West to own personal gold. Why? Because gold is real—it’s the one thing that can’t be printed into oblivion. The elites know that when fiat dies, gold thrives. And guess what? Israel just made owning gold illegal. Think that’s a coincidence? Think again. That’s the next move in this global chess game. The rest of the world will follow suit, stripping the people of any real assets while inflating the shit out of paper money until it’s as worthless as a Venezuelan bolívar.

It’s all part of the playbook—the same damn playbook they used a century ago, just with shinier toys and bigger stakes. And while the Fed raises rates to crash the markets, inflation will keep its boot on the necks of everyone earning less than $350K. Hell, even at that income, you’ll be struggling to survive because the cost of living will go supernova. But the real mind-fuck is this: the Fed’s goal isn’t just economic collapse, it’s total societal restructuring. They want to reset the system so they can rewrite the rules. This is the final phase of the 100-year supercycle, and we’re staring down the throat of a monetary reset that’ll wipe out 90% of the population’s wealth.

People think the Great Depression was bad. They think 2008 was rough. They have no idea what’s coming next. Hyperinflation is a slow-motion extinction event for the middle class. It doesn’t just erode wealth—it vaporizes it, along with any chance of economic mobility. And that’s exactly the point. They don’t want you to be rich. They don’t even want you to be comfortable. They want you controlled.

And here’s the ultimate irony, the thing the Ivy League geniuses will miss while they’re too busy fawning over their PhDs and patting each other on the back: this has been in motion for decades. Every crisis, every war, every pandemic is just another move on the chessboard, and most people are still playing checkers. The elites aren’t playing 4D chess—they’re playing infinite-dimensional chess, and they’re already 75 moves ahead. By the time the masses realize what’s happening, it’ll be too late.

This is the economic warfare of the future—a hyperinflationary economic death spiral that’s not just financial, but existential. A system engineered to collapse under its own weight, resetting the global order with a new set of winners and losers. And here’s the harsh truth: most people are going to be on the losing side.

So what’s the play? Get the hell off-grid while you still can. Stack hard assets. Prep like your life depends on it—because it does. The collapse isn’t just coming. It’s here, and it’s been here. The system is breaking down right in front of us, and the only ones who will survive are the ones who understand the game and who are fully prepared.

Stay Hard!

Bear Mountain Rancher going dark.....

“From Daisy BBs to the BOJ: A Four-Year-Old’s Sniper Triad Guide in Bilpin to Economic Warfare and Japan’s Renaissance”

I’ve got this real moron thing I do—it’s called ‘thinking.’ So bear with me while I pull back the curtain on the coming storm: a financial upheaval that'll make the 2008 collapse look like a day at the beach. The storm’s brewing in the East, in Japan, and trust me, this isn’t your typical market shift—this is a sniper’s shot, calculated, precise, and inevitable.

As a kid, I stood there on my fourth birthday, overwhelmed yet electrified, as my old man handed me a Hereford bull calf named “Burtie”—a tribute to the legend of Burt Reynolds—and a Daisy BB rifle that barely had enough juice to knock over a beer can mind you back then beer cans were made out of steel, not aluminum. My small hands clutched the rifle, its weight a tangible reminder of the responsibility thrust upon me. My dad, the quintessential Australian cattle rancher, leveled his gaze at me and said, “You’re a man now, James. You’ve got a bull to breed, and this rifle? It’s to protect you and your mother when I’m away.”

Out there on the family ranch in Bilpin, New South Wales, a place where apple orchards flourished as thickly as the kangaroos bounced, a kid either grew up fast or withered in the icy wind. By the time I hit my fifth birthday, I’d shown enough marksmanship to impress the old man, earning my first .22 rifle. And that’s when the wild ride began. I hunted, I learned, and I began to respect firearms as a craftsman respects his tools—practical, precise, and lethal when wielded with intent.

But it wasn’t merely about pulling triggers; it was about the artistry of mastering the mechanics. The pressure, velocity, and accuracy of a shot morphed into a lens through which I viewed the chaos of the world. The sniper’s triad became my guiding principle—a relentless truth that governed not just hunting or combat but the pulse of global politics and economics. Just like a bullet, pressure builds, velocity propels, and accuracy determines victory. This perspective resonated deeply, crafting a narrative where the outback’s serenity and the world’s chaos intertwined.

Now, let’s talk about the storm brewing in the East, a financial upheaval that’ll make the 2008 collapse look like a day at the beach. Japan is sitting on a powder keg, and trust me, this isn’t your run-of-the-mill market shift. No, this is a sniper’s shot, meticulously calculated and poised to detonate.

To truly understand what’s about to unfold, we need to rewind the clock and examine the intricate layers of Japan's economic history, demographics, and geopolitical positioning. Picture it: a nation once heralded as an economic powerhouse, now teetering on the edge of a renaissance, primed for a dramatic comeback. It's a classic case of pressure, velocity, and accuracy, the sniper’s triad, guiding us through the fog of uncertainty.

Let’s unpack the sniper’s triad in this context: pressure, velocity, accuracy.

Pressure: A Historical Build-Up

Japan's demographic landscape has been the silent architect of its economic fate. While the rest of the world experienced post-war booms, Japan's baby boom peaked in the late 1960s. By 1990, when the West was just starting to warm up, Japan was already riding the crest of its economic wave, only to crash spectacularly into a two-decade-long stagnation. The “Lost Decades” saw asset prices plummet, and a nation that once stood tall was left grappling with deflation, aging populations, and government debt spiraling into the stratosphere.

Fast forward to today. Japan finds itself in a peculiar position: a government deficit that would make a drunken sailor blush, mixed with the societal weight of a rapidly aging population. But just when it seemed like Japan was on the brink of eternal stagnation, the Bank of Japan (BOJ) made a move that sent shockwaves through the financial community: hiking interest rates for the first time in over 34 years. Like a sniper chambering a round, pressure is building—sudden and palpable, sending ripples through a landscape littered with corporate skeletons and half-hearted reforms.

Enter Shigeru Ishiba, a man poised to lead Japan with a fistful of economic conservatism and a penchant for less accommodative BOJ policies. His recent win in the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) leadership elections has sent the stock market reeling, as a shocking 7% crash in Japan’s stock futures illustrates. What’s overlooked by the mainstream media is that this market tumble is not merely a reaction to policy change; it’s the first rumble of an earthquake that has been brewing for decades.

Velocity: The Reactionary Momentum

Now, let’s talk velocity—the speed at which things will move once the pressure releases. In the sniper’s world, this is when you pull the trigger, and in the economic realm, it’s when capital flows like water into the path of least resistance. Japan's corporations own a staggering 25% of global hard assets outside the country. This is critical; it sets the stage for a rapid repatriation of capital that will mirror the speed of a well-aimed shot.

As inflation begins to rise within Japan, corporations will be forced to react. The BOJ's recent rate hike will initiate a sell-off of foreign assets, creating a rush back to Japan that can only be described as a tsunami of capital. Think of it like a long-dormant volcano, about to erupt, spewing forth a flow of cash that will ignite the most massive bull market in modern history.

But the plot thickens. The stark contrast between Japan's delayed reaction to the global economic recovery and the West's aggressive monetary policies has created a pressure cooker that’s primed to blow. If the GPIF, Japan’s Government Pension Investment Fund, steps in to support the market as anticipated, we could see a rapid rebound. Conversely, if panic sets in, the ensuing chaos could spiral out of control, leading to a market crash that reverberates globally.

Accuracy: The Strategic Shot

Here’s where accuracy comes into play—the ability to hit your target amidst all this chaos. In the sniper’s game, calculating wind, range, and gravity is key; similarly, the Japanese central bank is engaged in a 75-dimensional chess match that few can comprehend. The West, lulled into a false sense of security by years of cheap money and endless bailouts, will be caught off guard by Japan’s sudden maneuvering.

With the U.S. entangled in not one but three wars, and on the brink of civil unrest, the domestic distractions are stark. The proposed taxation of unrealized capital gains at an absurd 50% by the likes of Kamala Harris only serves to drive capital away from the U.S., amplifying the urgency for investors to seek safety and yield elsewhere. As the commercial real estate market collapses—down 90% from three years ago—Japan’s resurgence could emerge as a beacon of stability amid chaos.

Japan stands ready to unleash 34 years of pent-up economic pressure. As hard assets gain momentum, global capital will flock to Japan like moths to a flame, chasing that bull market with reckless abandon. This shift won’t just benefit Japan; it’ll redefine the global economic landscape.

The Sniper’s Call to Arms

As we approach the next quarter, the stakes are high, and the uncertainty is palpable. Will Japan’s new leadership stick to the BOJ’s course? Or will Ishiba’s proposed capital gains taxes and fiscal conservatism strangle this impending boom in its infancy? The world watches, but few understand the game being played.

So, where does that leave us? In a world where the sniper’s triad—pressure, velocity, and accuracy—are the only things that matter. The BOJ has pulled the trigger, and the question remains: will the West be ready when the bullet hits, or will they be too busy playing with blanks?

Bear J. Sleeman
Master Art of War Strategist, Bull Rider, and IQ9000 Thinker
Somewhere on Bear Mountain, peppering for the coming chaos. Stay hard, gentlemen.

 

"Bellum vocat, Bellatores Montis Ursi — Duri manete."

 

“Proclaim ye this among the Gentiles; Prepare war, wake up the mighty men, let all the men of war draw near; let them come up. Beat your plowshares into swords, and your pruninghooks into spears: let the weak say, I am strong. Christ is King. Do not let anger turn you towards sin. Help your Christian brother. Help the poor. Work hard and pray every day. Stay Hard.” -Joel 3:9-10

The Long Game - Why Europe, Britain, and America Keep Tripping on the Same Colonial Banana Peels

 

The Long Game - Why Europe, Britain, and America Keep Tripping on the Same Colonial Banana Peels

Let’s peel back the layers on this geopolitical onion and get to the core of what’s really going down. The COVID world hit like a freight train, but don’t kid yourself—everything was already in motion long before anyone knew the word "pandemic" wasn’t just a movie plot. What we’ve been living through for the past few years is just the latest in a centuries-old script, and trust me, it’s all about the resources. Europe has run the same tired playbook since it learned the fine art of colonization, and now, with the help of our globalist puppet-masters, the stakes are higher and the game is dirtier.

Europe’s Climate Crusade: The Green Mask of Control

When you hear Europe scream about climate change and push for more "regulations," understand this: it’s got nothing to do with saving polar bears and everything to do with one grim fact—they’re out of juice. Europe doesn’t have the oil, the coal, or the natural gas to sustain an economy for 700 million people. They’ve been siphoning off the world’s resources for centuries, whether by military force or financial coercion. Their industrial might was never theirs; it was looted from colonies stretching across Africa, Asia, and the Americas.

But now? That well’s running dry, and they need a new trick to keep their economies afloat. That’s where the whole climate-change pitch comes in—shift the narrative, redirect blame, and mask the real crisis: the EU is resource bankrupt.

From Colonies to Color Revolutions: Same Game, New Board

This playbook goes way back, folks. It started with European colonization and has evolved into something more insidious in the modern age: color revolutions. The Brits, masters of this game, figured out long ago that sending in an army is messy and expensive. But destabilizing a country through soft power? Cheap, efficient, and devastatingly effective.

They undermine governments by empowering dissidents, controlling media, and turning economic screws. And when the moment’s right? Bam! You’ve got yourself a shiny new revolution, and the resources flow back to the Western powers, who—like vampires—need fresh blood to keep themselves alive.

Ukraine: The Next Move in the Empire’s Endless Game

This brings us to the current stage: Ukraine. Let’s be real—this war isn’t about freedom or sovereignty. The West, especially Britain and America, doesn’t want it to end. Why would they? It’s all about draining Russia’s natural resources. Ukraine is just the battleground where this new phase of the Great Game is being played out.

Here’s the kicker: Europe needs Russia’s assets. The Brits, in particular, are salivating at the prospect of carving up Russia’s natural resource empire. The same old imperial hunger that fueled the British Empire for centuries hasn’t gone anywhere; it’s just been dressed up in new rhetoric. The EU wants Russian gas, oil, and minerals to keep the lights on in their post-colonial paradise. And let’s not forget the real debt holder pulling the strings: the Bank of England.

The British Empire’s Ghost: Trading Muskets for Money

The Brits didn’t give up on empire after they lost India—they just changed tactics. They went from maritime and industrial dominance to financial hegemony. The Bank of England has been the epicenter of this operation, and they’ve managed to keep the game going long after the Union Jack was lowered in far-flung colonies.

But now they’re in trouble. Real trouble. The Bank of England is on the hook for billions in Ukraine’s World Bank debt, and it’s not looking pretty. Ukraine has defaulted, and the bill is about to come due. But here’s the trick: just like in World War I, Britain is angling to get bailed out by the United States. They did it before, and they’ll try it again. Make no mistake: every time Britain overextends itself, it finds a way to drag America into the mess to clean it up.

The U.S. Civil War: Britain’s Botched Play for Empire

Now let’s dial it back for a moment and talk about the Civil War—no, scratch that—the War Between the States. Britain and France tried a color revolution on America long before they perfected the technique in the 20th century. The goal was simple: divide and conquer. The South, with its raw commodities, would become Europe’s permanent colony, providing cotton and tobacco for European markets. Meanwhile, the North would be isolated and weakened, strangled by tariffs and trade restrictions.

But Abraham Lincoln and the Union survived—barely. The Civil War was a failed color revolution, and it forced Britain to rethink its relationship with America. That’s when the Brits started cozying up to Washington, playing the long game to worm their way into the highest levels of American power.

Rise of the Puppet Masters: The Birth of Globalism

Fast forward to the 20th century, and the Brits finally got their claws in deep. Starting with Wilson and Hoover, globalists—mostly with British backing—took over the American government. They tried to pull us into globalist schemes like the League of Nations and, later, the United Nations. Britain, facing the decline of its empire, realized the only way to maintain power was through international financial institutions and alliances with the United States.

That’s how we ended up with World War I, which wasn’t just about defeating Germany—it was about saving Britain’s financial hide. London needed to win the war to repay its massive debts to American investors, and guess who bailed them out? That’s right—good ol' Uncle Sam.

Putin's Playbook: Dodging the West's Traps

And now here we are again. Putin sees the game. He’s watched the West run this playbook before—whether it was the Bolshevik Revolution or World War II—and he’s not biting. The West keeps poking Russia, hoping for an overreaction, hoping for a pretext to escalate into a larger war. But Putin? He’s playing 75D chess while the West is still fumbling around with checkers. He’s taking the punches—Kremlin drone strikes, the bombing of the Kerch Strait Bridge, Nord Stream sabotage—but refusing to escalate.

Why? Because he knows the longer this drags on, the more the financial noose tightens around the West. Russia can outlast the West’s proxy war tactics, and as long as Putin doesn’t give the globalists their “just war” narrative, the West’s position becomes more desperate.

Final Round: The Global Debt Trap Snaps Shut

In the end, it all comes back to money. Europe, Britain, and the U.S. are sinking deeper into debt and instability. Ukraine is just the latest pawn in a centuries-old chess match for control of global resources. But here’s the kicker: Putin isn’t playing by their rules. He’s seen their game and is refusing to let them draw him into a full-blown conflict. As the West tightens the screws, they’re actually tightening the noose around their own necks.

So while the media keeps pushing the war-for-freedom narrative, don’t be fooled. This is the same old colonial hustle, dressed up in modern rhetoric, and unless the West figures out a new game, they’ll end up collapsing under the weight of their own imperial overreach.

By Bear J. Sleeman, Part-Time Cowboy, Full-Time Sage, and Unrepentant Warfighter, somewhere between the whiskey trails of the Wild West and the shadowy peaks of the Alps in Japan.

Woke Communism Reloaded—21st Century Marxism for Idiots Who Think They’re Free

 

Woke Communism Reloaded—21st Century Marxism for Idiots Who Think They’re Free

Today, as I was splitting cords of wood on Bear Mountain Ranch with Tucker Carlson tearing into the latest absurdities in the background, a thought sharpened in my mind, much like the ax in my hands. I stacked the logs under a crisp September sky, staring out at the Northern Alps, listening to Bear Creek roll in the distance. I walked over to my '84 Dodge RAM, grabbed my leather satchel, and pulled out my old, battle-worn notebook. Sitting beneath a 200-year-old chestnut tree, wind in my face, I began to write this down—a no-nonsense take on the festering rot that has infected every corner of Western civilization.

But let’s not kid ourselves here: There is no saving America or the West. None. Any idiot with two brain cells left to rub together can see we’re in the final days of this tragic comedy. “No borders, no walls, no USA at all”—that’s not just a chant anymore; that’s your new reality. Nuclear war, civil war, and the greatest depression in history are all on the horizon. The dollar’s on its deathbed, and society is hanging by a thread. The West doesn’t need saving—it needs to crash and burn.

And you know what? I’m not in the crosshairs. I’m watching this slow-motion collapse from Bear Motherfucking Mountain in Japan. My ranch is fortified, and we’ve got everything we need to live free while the rest of you are getting sucked into the hellhole. Deer, salmon, 19 varieties of trout, cattle, horses, dirt bikes, trucks, tractors, crops, orchards, cider, whiskey, and mountains of firewood. We’ve got it all—and I don’t see a single soy-swilling, rainbow-flag-waving lunatic for miles.

But let’s get to the point: Woke communism is back, and it’s worse than ever. This isn’t your granddad’s gritty, cold-steel Soviet communism, the kind that made men sharpen their knives and stockpile ammo. No, this is the slick, woke version, wrapped in social justice nonsense and sold to you by Silicon Valley elites. They’ve traded the hammer and sickle for an iPhone and a Starbucks rewards card, and they’re shoving it down your throat.

You think communism’s dead? Think again. This isn’t a revolution led by the working class anymore—it’s a corporate takeover, led by billionaires preaching “equity” while flying their private jets. The working man isn’t storming the gates. The woke managerial class is—and they’ve already seized your institutions, your schools, and your damn boardrooms.

Here’s the kicker: ESG—Environmental, Social, Governance. That’s the code name for this corporate communism. You don’t scream “diversity” loud enough? You’re out. Fail to check the right woke boxes? You’re done. Wall Street, Silicon Valley—they’re all kneeling before this new communist fantasy, pretending it's the future of capitalism. It’s a joke. The only thing at stake here is the future of the Western world.

But don’t you dare call this a conspiracy. The evidence is clearer than the mountain air I’m breathing right now. We’re living under a new politburo—a faceless managerial class armed with algorithms, ESG scores, and armies of woke zombies fresh out of university, ready to enforce the new order. Think capitalism’s alive? It’s not. We’re staring down a corporate version of communism, and the only thing more dangerous than the old one is this shiny new model with a smile.

So, what do you do? Call it what it is: woke communism reloaded. This isn’t some joke about “woke capitalism.” This is Marxism 2.0, dressed up with corporate flair. And if you don’t see that by now, you’re already a lost cause. This isn’t a debate for polite dinner parties. This is war—a war for the soul of the West. And make no mistake, if we don’t fight back now, there won’t be anything left worth saving.

But here’s the cold, hard truth. America won’t save itself. The West is going down, and fast. I might be watching from Bear Mountain, where the rifles are loaded and the firewood is stacked high, but I’m still watching. And to the West? Good luck. You’re gonna need a hell of a lot more than that.

Your move.

Stay Hard!

By Bear J. Sleeman, Part-Time Cowboy, Full-Time Sage, Unrepentant Warfighter, and Logger, somewhere between the whiskey trails of the Wild West and the shadowy peaks of the Alps in Japan. 

 

THIS IS IT! THE MOMENT WHEN YOU FINALLY REALIZE THE PREPPERS WERE RIGHT!

 

RUSSIA'S LAVROV: NASRALLAH DEATH WAS `POLITICAL ASSASSINATION'

NETANYAHU: NASRALLAH HIT WAS NECESSARY TO ACHIEVE THE GOALS WE SET

The middle East is on the edge of blowing sky high, and my bet is it is going to go global. —“October Surprise”

---

This is it—the moment the world has been waiting for, and dreading. World War III is right on schedule, unfolding exactly as predicted. Events in the Middle East have detonated in the last 24 hours, a cascade of chaos that no one saw coming, but everyone should have.

The assassination of Hezbollah’s leader, Hassan Nasrallah, is our generation’s Archduke Franz Ferdinand moment—a geopolitical strike as pivotal, if not more, to the balance of power in the Middle East. What follows won’t be contained to the region. What Israel just did—the clinical, surgical elimination of Nasrallah—isn’t just a warning shot. It’s an invitation to global war.

Iran hasn’t responded yet. Not because they’re afraid. No, they’re holding back because they know what happens next. If they move against Israel with full force, they’ll wipe it off the map in hours, but they know Israel's nuclear reprisal will turn Tehran into ash. No one really knows what’s in Israel’s nuclear arsenal—not even their biggest ally, the U.S. And that’s the terrifying part.

There’s no transparency here, no treaties to regulate Israel. They operate in the shadows, a proxy attack dog for Washington’s dirty work. Everyone knows that when Israel strikes, it’s with America’s blessing, or at least their blind eye. What no one can be sure of is just how deep Israel’s nuclear capabilities run. Rumors suggest the IDF has developed tactical nukes—low-yield devices that can trigger localized EMP blasts, capable of frying the electronics of any major Middle Eastern capital without the messy fallout of a traditional nuke. The Iranians know this, which is why they’re hesitating. But their window to act is closing fast.

The Russians, of course, have been quietly backing Iran. Sergey Shoigu, the Russian Defense Minister, was in Tehran the moment the first Israeli strikes hit Lebanon. The timing was no coincidence. Arms deals, logistics, maybe even nuclear hardware—whatever Russia’s been supplying, it’s all been under the table. The Iranians could very well be operating under Moscow’s nuclear umbrella, ensuring they don’t take the bait and launch first. But for how long?

Hezbollah, meanwhile, is reeling. Nasrallah’s death was a decapitation strike of the highest order—one that the world has never seen with such precision. The IDF’s intelligence was flawless. This wasn’t just a lucky hit, this was a cold, calculated strike designed to cripple Hezbollah’s leadership in one fell swoop. But anyone who knows Hezbollah understands that they aren’t your typical military force. Their command structure is fluid, backed up by layers upon layers of Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) operatives from Iran. If one leader falls, another steps in without missing a beat. Nasrallah may be dead, but Hezbollah’s network, reinforced by the IRGC, is far from broken.

And now, the war drums are getting louder. Israel is massing troops at the Lebanese border, preparing for a ground invasion into Hezbollah territory. This is the flashpoint the world has been dreading. Hezbollah, which has so far held back its heaviest firepower, might finally unleash its stockpile of long-range missiles. The IDF has made it clear—if these weapons are launched, it will be all-out war, and Israel’s response will not be restrained by conventional means. Tactical nukes are on the table.

The next few hours will tell us everything we need to know. Hezbollah has just officially declared war, though the underground conflict has been simmering for decades. What’s shocking is how fast it’s escalated. Less than a week ago, Nasrallah was in his fortified bunker in Beirut, confident that his position was secure. Now, he’s dead, and Hezbollah is scrambling to hold the line.

Lebanon, meanwhile, is being set ablaze. Israeli jets have already begun enforcing a no-fly zone over the northern territories, encroaching dangerously close to Russian airspace over Syria. Lavrov has condemned Israel’s strikes as a blatant violation of Lebanese sovereignty, but that’s as far as Russia’s gone publicly. Behind the scenes, Moscow’s ready to make a move. If Israel keeps pushing, Putin may be forced to side with Iran, and the global lines between East and West will harden in blood.

The Iranians are furious. Hezbollah’s Shiite followers are flooding the streets, chanting for war, demanding vengeance. The assassination of their leader isn’t just a tactical blow; it’s a spiritual wound that cuts deep into the Shiite-Sunni divide. Iran must act, but how? Any direct strike on Israel could provoke the war they’ve been avoiding. But their hand is being forced by the weight of their own people, the IRGC commanders now pressing for action, and the new hardliner President of Iran, who sees an opportunity to cement his power.

In the meantime, U.S. forces are quietly mobilizing. CENTCOM is repositioning assets in the Gulf, bolstering Israel’s missile defenses, preparing for what they see as an inevitable confrontation. President Biden’s administration is playing the double game—virtue signaling peace while arming Israel to the teeth.

But no matter how it’s spun, there’s no stopping this. Russia’s missiles, Iran’s proxies, Israel’s nukes—it’s all in play now. Everyone is waiting for the next strike, the one that pushes us over the edge. And when it comes, the world will be watching in horror as the Middle East goes up in flames.

This is not just another war. This is the endgame. World War III has begun, and there’s no turning back now.

Welcome to the end.

Bear J. Sleeman going dark.........

 

 

BORDER CZAR IS MY NEW FAVORITE SONG!!!🎵😭🤣🤣🤣

 

BORDER CZAR IS MY NEW FAVORITE SONG!!!

 

Hillary Clinton’s New TV Show: "Murder She Wrote" "Suicide Note"

 

Bear Mountain Dispatch: The Rainbow Trout, the Bear, and the Madness of Critical Race Theory

 

 

Bear Mountain Dispatch: The Rainbow Trout, the Bear, and the Madness of Critical Race Theory

There’s a rare serenity in waking up on Bear Mountain, where the fog hangs just long enough to soften the rugged peaks of the Northern Alps before the sun cracks through, casting gold across the valley. Today was one of those mornings—perfect for fishing. So I grabbed my rod, strapped on my boots, and trekked down to Bear Ravine, where the river runs clear, and the trout are fat, wild, and free—just like me.

I found my usual spot beneath the alder trees, their shadows dappling the water’s surface. The river hummed its timeless tune as I cast my line. Across the bank, a grizzly lumbered through the brush, as indifferent to me as I was to him. The bear and I, two souls untouched by the lunacy infecting the world. Out here, where the air still smells like pine and freedom, you get a glimpse of what the world once was—pure and uncorrupted by the self-destructive stupidity of modern society.

The tug came—swift and familiar. A rainbow trout hit the line, darting beneath the surface in a shimmering dance of survival. As I reeled it in, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride. I landed it, admired its iridescent scales flashing in the sunlight, and set it free. Meanwhile, the bear, too busy munching berries, gave zero shits about me or my morning victory. Out here, everything’s as it should be.

Compare that to the clown show back in America and the West. As I climbed into my old ‘84 Dodge Ram—taking care not to flood the engine on the first crank while gently feathering the accelerator peddle—I turned on the radio and tuned into Alex Jones. Just as I hit the gravel road leading to the ranch, some caller was ranting about Critical Race Theory. That’s when it hit me: the chasm. Here I am, in a truck older than these wokelings, while their precious little heads are being filled with an intellectual septic tank called CRT.

Critical Race Theory. It’s a joke wrapped in a con, draped in pseudo-intellectualism, and topped off with a participation trophy. Cooked up by ivory tower parasites who've never worked a real job or done anything meaningful in their lives. It’s a wet dream for those who’ve never swung an axe or bled for their country. The West has lost its damn mind, sinking into a swamp of ideological absurdity while grizzlies up here in the mountains make more sense than any of those mouthpieces for cultural suicide.

And as America, the Commonwealth, and Europe crumble under the weight of their own self-imposed idiocy, I sit here on Bear Mountain, sipping black coffee from a steel flask, watching the world burn. Life up here is simple, grounded, and fiercely free—everything the West used to be before it was gutted by political correctness and Marxist madness.

Critical Race Theory. A "theory" so fragile it collapses under the weight of a toddler’s question. It’s become a sacred cow, a religious idol worshipped by the woke. Question it, and you’re labeled a "racist." In today’s linguistic gymnastics, that’s code for “you think for yourself.” CRT is the new God, the untouchable idol of a generation that lost faith in everything real and replaced it with the empty promises of Wokeism.

Meanwhile, the West is rotting from the head—Washington, London, Sydney, Toronto, Brussels—they’re all drunk on the same decaying Kool-Aid. And who’s really pulling the strings behind this global marionette show of idiocy? The usual suspects: WEF, WHO, UN, Banksters, Big Pharma, corporate whores, political degenerates, and useful idiots wearing rainbow blindfolds. Dig deep enough, and you’ll find the truth: China. China’s rise has the elites rattled. They know their time is up. They’re desperately clinging to the illusion of Western supremacy as it unravels before their eyes.

But you can’t bully China like you bullied Nicaragua. This isn’t 1982. The West can’t drone-strike its way out of this one, and no amount of gender-neutral bathrooms will save the day. So, they double down. Deny. Distract. Feed the masses the opiates of gender fluidity, climate hysteria, and neoliberal fantasies dressed up as progressive capitalism.

The West’s house of cards is collapsing, and they’re busy handing out rainbow-colored life jackets. The dirty little secret that no one wants to admit is this: capitalism based on infinite growth on a finite planet is suicide by slow suffocation. The elites know this. That’s why they’re hoarding wealth, buying bunkers, and planning their exits while the rest of us get left behind.

The media? Their job is to tell you everything’s fine. Keep consuming. Keep buying. Keep distracting yourself with the latest gadget while the planet burns, and the gap between the haves and the have-nots widens to an unbridgeable chasm. Soon enough, the Greenpeace kiddies will grow into full-blown terrorists, pissed off that their future got sold out to the highest bidder.

Wokeness is the final dagger between the ribs of Western civilization. It’s Neo-Marxism in drag, designed to gut everything that made the West strong—faith, family, masculinity, and honor. The elites don’t give a damn about the “oppressed”; they care about power, control, and keeping their yachts afloat while the rest of us drown.

Meanwhile, China is playing the long game. While the West is too busy canceling comedians and handing out participation trophies, Beijing is laying the groundwork for global domination. The pieces are moving, and the West is too busy arguing over gender pronouns to notice.

Here’s the hard truth, folks: you get the government you deserve. The West? It’s done. Stick a fork in it. It’s not a beacon of freedom or strength anymore; it’s a wheezing, senile old man muttering about equity while outsourcing its soul to China.

Out here on Bear Mountain, we’re ready. The ranch is fortified, stocked, and armed. We’ve got deer, trout, cattle, whiskey, and enough firepower to hold the line. No soy lattes, no rainbow flags, and certainly no CRT. Just mountains, rivers, and the quiet hum of freedom.

As I sit under this old chestnut tree, jotting down these thoughts, I feel nothing but gratitude. I got out. I escaped the asylum before the final collapse. The rest of the world can spiral into chaos—I’ll be here, splitting firewood, watching the sunset over the Alps, shredding chest-deep powder snow, rolling coal in my V8 diesel pickup truck, and living like a man should.

So here’s my parting gift: next time some soy-sipping, pronoun-preaching emasculated latent homosexual idiot starts talking about "diversity" and "equity," remember this—Wokeness is the final act of a civilization that forgot what made it great. It’s over.

And on Bear Mountain, we’re ready to break out the deckchairs, party hats, and popcorn and watch it all burn from a safe distance.

Stay Hard!

Bear J. Sleeman - Bear Mountain Ranch, Japan

"AMERIKA: BEYOND IDIOCRACY - President Kamala Camacho’s ‘Kamunism’ Set to Deliver Us Into 2024’s Dystopian Dumpster Fire"

 

 

“WELCOME TO KAMUNISTAN: President Kamala ‘Camacho’ Promises 2024 Will Be The Year America Out-Dumbs Idiocracy—Get Ready for Free Soy Lattes and Mandatory Feelings”

Let’s face it: Idiocracy was supposed to be satire, but here we are, 2024, and reality has taken a dark, sharp turn that makes the movie look like a cheerful bedtime story. The difference? In Idiocracy, the president was a loudmouthed buffoon who shot guns and yelled at plants. Today? We’ve got Kamala Harris, a walking embodiment of corporate grooming, anxiety-drenched confidence, and Big Pharma's finest mood stabilizers. And she’s likely your next president, whether you like it or not. And here’s the kicker: It’s already baked into the cake.

She knows it, too. You can see it in her eyes—like someone who was just handed the keys to a car hurtling off a cliff and told, “Don’t worry, you’ll probably land safely.” You don’t need a genius IQ or a crystal ball to see it—her body language tells you everything. Kamala’s resigned to her fate, holding that inevitable crown with all the assurance of a poker player who’s been told by the house that the deck is rigged in her favor.

But here’s the thing: World War III isn’t just a possibility; it’s a done deal. The elites have written the script, and the rest of us are extras in their apocalyptic play. Every move Kamala makes—hell, every move any of these puppets make—is simply a footnote in a plan that’s been in motion for decades. The monetary system? Toast. Pension funds? Running on fumes. Banks? Deader than disco. Commercial real estate is collapsing faster than Joe Biden's ability to finish a sentence. Ever notice gold’s been breaking records every day for seven months? That’s not an accident. Gold is the canary in the coal mine, screaming that the world is one spark away from the mother of all meltdowns and a Great Great Depression.

Meanwhile, Russia just updated its military doctrine to include first-strike nukes, even if some nobody country throws a rock their way. The stage is set, the actors are in place, and the world’s powder keg is already lit. Klaus Schwab, Mr. "You vill own nothing," has told you a thousand times, but no one’s listening. We’re on the cusp of a global digital catastrophe—a cyber meltdown that will make 1984 look like a Sunday picnic. And what follows? Smart cities, or as I like to call them, “digital gulags,” where every breath you take is monitored by algorithms, every move you make is logged in some data bank, and every shred of your freedom is a relic of a bygone era. Welcome to the Great Reset.

See, this whole train wreck is by design. The elites have been running zero-percent interest rates for years, ensuring the monetary system’s collapse, and now they need a global catastrophe to cover their tracks. Nothing says “we screwed up” like plunging the world into war. And here’s the brutal truth: the U.S. will keep sinking further into the abyss, all while Kamala Harris parades around with the confidence of someone who’s been promised the keys to the kingdom, even if it’s burning down.

Kamala doesn’t have Trump’s blank check with Israel, but she’s been handed a credit card with a high limit. Netanyahu knows the score. His escalatory tactics with Palestine hit turbo the moment Biden bowed out. They’re making their final plays before the house of cards collapses. Sure, Israel will get what it wants—no matter who’s in the White House—but with Kamala, the game’s a little more complicated, a few more strings attached. They’ll still pull America’s puppet strings, but the price of the show is going up.

And let’s not kid ourselves. Kamala’s not as dumb as she’s played herself up to be. Sure, there’s something off—maybe it’s Big Pharma’s antidepressants working overtime—but Eric Weinstein says she’s sharper than the image she projects, and I’m inclined to agree. She's not the mastermind, but she knows enough to survive the political meat grinder.

But, here’s the rub—Idiocracy was too soft. The real world is far grimmer. Kamala’s strutting around like she’s already crowned queen, Trump’s convinced he’s the messiah of 2024, and the rest of us? We’re stuck between the world’s dumbest tug-of-war. Both sides are playing the same game, and both think they’re the chosen one. The sad part? The game’s already rigged.

Here’s the million-dollar advice you won’t hear on CNN: Get off the grid. Now. WWIII isn’t a question of “if” but “when,” and the clock’s ticking. You’ve got a front-row seat to the end of Western civilization, and while Kamala and Trump square off in a political circus, the real fight—the one that’ll make or break the world—is already happening in the shadows.

The entire financial system is on life support, the war drums are beating louder, and when the dust settles, only the elites will be standing. They’ll usher in their “one-world Marxist government,” where you’ll “own nothing and be happy,” trapped in smart cities with digital IDs controlling your every move.

So, while the world burns, Kamala will smile, nod, and wave—oblivious, or maybe resigned, to the fact that she’s just the latest cog in a machine spiraling out of control. Meanwhile, the rest of us? We’re cannon fodder in the global elites’ dystopian fantasy.

Wake up. Get the hell out. Before the fangs sink in, and it’s too late.

Stay Hard!

Bear J. Sleeman  Going dark..........