This day became a nightmare for all my friends and relatives from Ukraine, because they woke up from the roar of explosions and news about the beginning of war. #StopWar# #нетвойне#

🐸 Born as a bug. Grew into a movement. @PepeKCC20 started as an accidental deploy during a Kaspa covenant test. No launch plan, no team behind it. The community found it and ran with it anyway. 🌱 Community driven from day one 🚫 No presale, no team allocation 🤝 Partnerships already forming behind the scenes 🔥 7,000,000 $PEPE already bought back and burned in about a week, through @daggertradebot fees and the Stopwatch Game. The fastest frog on $KAS L1 was not built. It was adopted.

Twenty five years ago today, a 62 year old man with cancer in his bones walked 2,687 people out of the South Tower, and then he went back inside. Rick Rescorla was born in Hayle, Cornwall in 1939. British Parachute Regiment in Cyprus at 18. Colonial police in Northern Rhodesia. Then he came to America, enlisted in the US Army in 1963, and in November 1965 he went into the Ia Drang Valley as a platoon leader with the 2nd Battalion, 7th Cavalry. Hal Moore called him the best platoon leader he ever saw. His men called him Hard Core. He sang to them in the dark, Wild Colonial Boy in an Australian accent, because he had worked out that men who are singing are not men who are panicking. That is Rescorla on the cover of We Were Soldiers Once and Young, bayonet fixed. Thirty five years later he was head of security for Dean Witter, later Morgan Stanley, in the South Tower of the World Trade Center. In 1990 he brought in his old friend Dan Hill and the two of them walked the basement. He warned the Port Authority that the parking garage was wide open, that somebody could drive in a truck full of explosives, walk out and light it off. Nothing was done. Three years later the 1993 bomb went off about thirty feet from the spot he had flagged. After that he told Morgan Stanley the towers were still a target and the next attack would come out of the sky. He wanted the firm to leave Manhattan. The lease ran to 2006, so they stayed. Twenty two floors of the South Tower, roughly 2,700 people. So he drilled them. Every three months, everyone, no exceptions, down the stairwells two abreast while he stood there with a stopwatch. Traders pulling seven figures resented being marched down concrete stairs by a Cornishman with a clipboard. He kept doing it anyway. 8:46 a.m. The North Tower is hit. Port Authority comes over the South Tower loudspeakers and tells everyone the building is secure and to go back to their desks. Rescorla picks up a bullhorn and tells his people to get out. He phones Dan Hill. "The dumb sons of bitches told me not to evacuate. They said it's just Building One. I told them I'm getting my people out of here." 9:03 a.m. The second plane hits the South Tower, floors 77 through 85. His people are already in the stairwells, moving exactly the way they had been drilled, and Rescorla is on the bullhorn singing to them. Cornish songs. A version of Men of Harlech he had rewritten for Cornwall. Men of Cornwall stop your dreaming, can't you see their spearpoints gleaming. He called his wife Susan from the stairs. They had been married two and a half years, met jogging in New Jersey. He told her to stop crying, that he had to get these people out safely, and that if something happened to him he wanted her to know he had never been happier, that she made his life. Someone told him to get out. He said, as soon as I make sure everyone else is out. 2,687 Morgan Stanley employees went home that day. Thirteen did not, and four of those were Rescorla and the men who stayed in the building with him: Wesley Mercer, Jorge Velazquez, Godwin Forde. He was last seen on the 10th floor, walking up. The South Tower fell at 9:59. They never found him.

Same move. Same hand on the heart, same wave to the crowd. Musk did it and gets called a Nazi to this day. Mamdani does it and those same people have not said a word. Well, not exactly. Once the side by side clips went viral, some of them did speak up. Not to apologize to Musk. To defend Mamdani. Suddenly the gesture is not the gesture. Suddenly we need to talk about arm speed. Whether the fingers wiggled at the end. Whether he was smiling. Whether his grandparents were in the right party. A year ago none of that mattered. The hand went up, the verdict came down. Now we get a forensic seminar on millimeters and microseconds to prove Mamdani's arm moved slower. Mamdani's own press office said "in no way was this a Nazi salute." Funny. Musk said the same thing. His did not count. Mamdani's did, instantly. That tells you everything. The "Nazi salute" thing was never about the gesture. If it were, they would be screaming right now. They are not. It was about Musk. They hate him because he is the richest man in the world and he was attacking their ideological piggy bank with DOGE, so they smeared him. Mamdani is on their team, so he gets a pass, plus a defense team running stopwatch analysis. Same hand, opposite verdict. A wave is a wave. The rule does not change based on who is waving. When it does, you are not watching principle. You are watching a hit job.