GT1-Blog

 The Lunacy of Arrogance, Guised as Political Posture By Brian R. Wilson This will upset people, I know. It should. Truth usually does. I’ve stood with the conservative cause for years, and I’ve supported President Trump more often than not. I’ve believed in the promise of “America first,” in the idea that strength comes from conviction. But, loyalty without conscience is obedience, and obedience is the folly of the foolish. Now comes this talk of restarting nuclear weapons testing. I keep asking myself why. What could it possibly prove? Power? Pride? Deterrence? I don’t see an ounce of sense in it, just swagger. Feels childish, the sort of chest-thumping you get from a punk trying to look tough, not from a nation that should know better.. I say that as someone who still backs the cause, but believes strength ought to speak softly, not scream through the dust. Strength, the kind that lasts, moves quietly. It steadies markets. It calms the world. It doesn’t light the desert sky just...

The question was posed” Physical Graffiti or The Wall By Brian Wilson: A Led Zeppelin loyalist who still admits Floyd took it further You can measure time by the records that stay with you. Physical Graffiti and The Wall both do that very thing. They’re the kind of albums that ask you to stop what you’re doing and listen the way you used to, in its entirety, no skipping, no shuffle, no grabbing the suggested tracks from apple or amazon. They belong to the same decade, but they come from opposite corners of the artistic ether. Zeppelin built theirs on motion, sweat, and sound; Floyd built theirs on control, story, and silence. Jimmy Page was never a preacher. His music speaks in the language of air and wire, notes bent until they ache. He recorded like a craftsman, chasing texture: that burn in the low strings of “Kashmir,” the small-room hum of “Bron-Yr-Aur.” The songs stretch out, but not to tell a story, more to live inside one. You can feel the amps breathing, Bonham’s kick shaking ...

 The Quiet Border Between Law and War By Brian Wilson I’ll start by saying I’m a patriot in the truest sense, the kind who still believes a country can love both its people and the security of it's borders. The need for open border policies, and for an agency to uphold them, is real enough. Necessary, even. But there’s a line there, thin as wire, sharp as a blade, that demands precision. Who holds the authority? Who watches the watchers? History is heavy with examples of nations that failed to ask those questions soon enough, and the slide that followed was always slow, always justified, until it wasn’t. Somewhere south of El Paso, the wind drags dust across a checkpoint where uniforms outnumber travelers. The air tastes of sand and diesel. A convoy idles under the pale sun, the sound low and mechanical, like breath drawn through a machine. To watch the scene is to wonder whether the Department of Homeland Security meant for Immigration and Customs Enforcement to look this much lik...

 The newsroom used to be a public square; for a long stretch of the 20th century it was also a kind of civic altar where facts were presented, examined and laid out for citizens to formulate their own opinions. Walter Cronkite didn’t preside over a theater of spectacle; he delivered the ledger of events. That ledger is shredded now. In 2025, the sprawling “news” feeds of huge media outfits look less like investigatory institutions than like the entertainment complexes that produce reality TV: all narrative arcs, tight edits, and stunt-ready soundbites. The difference between reporting and scripting has become, for many viewers, indistinguishable. Look at how this plays out in practice. In the build-up to the 2024 election, a document from the Office of the Director of National Intelligence, the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency warned that a video depicting mail-in ballots for former President Donald Trump being destroyed in Bu...

  Some folks out there think the “No Kings” movement is just about the oppressive impulses of one man. That’s the easy label, and boy, big media loves an easy label. They’ll twist it, squeeze it, and flatten it until there’s no room left for any kind of real meaning. But anyone who’s actually educated themselves about this movement , or even spent a few minutes thinking for themselves , knows better. “No Kings” isn’t about one man. It’s about a whole rotten system that’s been playing both ends against the middle for decades. New Englanders have a long memory. We remember what happens when power stops listening and starts ruling. The “No Kings” idea grew out of that same stubborn streak that sent a few farmers and fishermen marching toward Boston back in the 1700s. It’s about independence , not party. The name itself says it clear enough: no kings. Not red kings, not blue ones. No crowns hiding behind party logos. The problem isn’t Trump or the presidency alone; it’s the machine ...

The Wrong Fight: Why Open Carry Weakens Gun Rights By Brian Wilson, a sensible 2nd Amendment advocate Florida’s summer heat hides nothing. Shirts cling. Sweat rolls. Now, holstered pistols may soon ride that same horizon. A recent court ruling cracked open the door, and open carry could become a familiar sight. Supporters call it liberty in action. I call it a misstep, one that weakens, not strengthens, the very right it celebrates. I’ve stood for the Second Amendment my entire life. I believe in ownership paired with training, in self-defense balanced by judgment. Yet open carry unsettles me. It’s not the firearm itself that stirs unease, but what happens when visibility outruns restraint. The New Florida Landscape Until recently, Florida Statute § 790.053 banned open carry. A narrow law, rigid but clear. A pistol could flash by accident, briefly, but not rest in full view. That rule held firm for decades, upheld again in Norman v. State (2017), when the Florida Supreme Cou...

There was one Christmas when it all changed. The display was bigger than anything I had done before, arches, synchronized music, thousands of lights. Cars began to line up along the street. At first I thought they were just passing through, but they stayed. Windows rolled down, kids cheered, strangers clapped from sidewalks. Someone slipped a donation into a box I had left near the mailbox. By the end of the week, that box was full. That night I realized the display had become something larger than myself. It wasn’t just decoration. It was a stage for generosity. Neighbors brought canned goods. A local charity partnered with me. The community turned a simple hobby into a tradition with meaning. The Struggles People Don’t See It isn’t always easy. Some years I question whether I can keep it up. The cost of lights and equipment climbs. Storage space fills. Weather tears at the setup. I’ve spent nights on the roof in icy wind, my body stiff, my mind asking why I keep doing this. But...