Best GENE HACKMAN Movie that is Not named Unforgiven.

You go back in time and join the Military again, but you're forced to choose a different branch. Which one do you pick?

Who would you pick if you had to listen to one CFB Play-By-Play Announcer the rest of your life?

This band was formed in New Orleans in 1975. ‘Who's Behind the Door’ was released in 1983 and #61 on Billboard Hot 100 and #10 on US Mainstream Rock. 👉🏻 Name the band.

Any UFO fans on X?

Any UFO fans on X?

🗣️ Alisson Becker: 'Three months after my father’s death, my son Rafael was born. For my wife and I, it was like hope was reborn. A light shone in our lives again. His name had a special meaning for us. It comes from the Hebrew, meaning “God has healed.” ⁠ ⁠ Six days after Rafael was born, something happened that I still cannot explain.⁠ ⁠ We were playing a crucial match against West Brom. We were fighting for our place in the Champions League, and we had to win that match. It was one of those days where it feels like nothing is working, and it was 1-1 with a few seconds remaining. As a keeper, you are just standing in your box in those moments, feeling helpless. ⁠ ⁠ But then we won a corner. And our goalkeeping coach shouted for me to run up the pitch. There was nothing to lose. So I ran up the pitch as fast as I could, and I arrived in the box just as Trent was taking the corner. To be honest, as a keeper, you never, ever, ever think that you are actually going to score. ⁠ ⁠ Just get into the box and create chaos. ⁠ ⁠ The next thing I know, the ball is coming at my face. I flick my head and I fall to the ground. Then I am just surrounded by a warm glow. That’s the only way I can describe it. Everyone is hugging me. Thiago is hugging me and crying. Firmino is hugging me and crying and laughing at the same time. Mo is celebrating like a little kid, jumping up and down. I have never seen him so happy after someone else scored a goal hahaha!! Complete joy.⁠ ⁠ It was almost more special that we were still playing in the empty stadiums, without the roar of the fans, because the only thing that I could feel was the love of my teammates, who had gotten me through the hardest time of my life. Our whole bench, the staff, and the kitmen were all cheering so loud that it felt like we were back in front of the Kop again. ⁠ ⁠ I remember I looked up to the heavens, and it was one of those grey rainy days in England. But for me, the sky was filled with light. ⁠ ⁠ I said, “Pai…. pai…..”⁠ ⁠ It’s for you, Dad!'⁠

This is why Americans are the deadliest fighters on earth. I met a priest yesterday who just got accepted to chaplain school in Newport. I asked him the obvious question: Marines or Navy? Navy, he said. His face fell a little. He told me he could never be a Marine because every Marine is a rifleman, and as a priest he can’t carry a weapon. He’s hoping to get assigned to a Marine unit anyway. All chaplains are Navy officers, so that’s the only door in. I laughed. I feel a little bad about that. Then I explained to him what “Devil Doc” means. The Marine Corps doesn’t have medics. They use Navy Corpsmen. I told him: when you get out to the fleet, find a Marine sergeant with a couple of Purple Hearts and tell him Devil Docs “aren’t real Marines.” Be prepared to duck. Marines are violently particular about who gets to wear their uniform. Navy Corpsmen and Navy chaplains who have eaten dirt alongside them in combat qualify. Full stop. My dad was Air Force. Not even Navy. I remember going to VFW halls with him as a kid. Someone would ask him what service, he’d say Air Force, and the room would chuckle a little. Then they’d find out he was a medic, and the air in the room changed. Something close to reverence. Dad hated being honored. He had one line he used to deflect it: “I didn’t do much. Save your praise for my cousin the PJ.” That always broke the ice. PJs are the Air Force special operators who go into hell to pull downed pilots out. They will take casualties and are prepared to die to rescue a single pilot or crewman. The math doesn’t math out. Why would any combat force take multiple casualties to rescue one air force jet jockey? What the padre is about to learn is that the military has a hierarchy that has nothing to do with rank, and nothing to do with the service stitched on your chest. Have you deployed? Have you seen combat? In every firefight there are men who move toward the guns and men who hang back. And when the guy at the tip of the spear is pinned down, bleeding, with rounds cracking past his head, there is exactly one word he screams into the radio. “Medic.” Here is the catch, and it is the whole reason America fights the way America fights. That Marine is willing to push forward into fire BECAUSE he knows the Corpsman is coming. He knows the medevac birds will land in the hot LZ. He knows the Devil Doc will drag him out by his plate carrier if it comes to that. And, if the medic can’t help, if he has what Dad called “injuries incompatible with life,” he knows that chaplain will crawl on his belly to administer last rights and deliver him to heaven. The F-15 pilot punching out over enemy territory knows the same thing. He knows the PJs will move heaven and earth to reach him, and turn whatever is shooting at him into a smoking crater of hell on earth on the way in. This is the quiet math underneath American violence. Our warriors are the fiercest on earth not because they are more aggressive, not just because they are better trained, or better equipped, though they are all of those things. They are the fiercest because they know, in their bones, that when they key the mic and call for help, help is coming in hot. Take that away, and you don’t have the U.S. military anymore. You have a security force.