'Let me be clear, f*ck ICE'

An Excerpt from Haven Hill NOTE: This weekend, I’m selling advance reader copies of Haven Hill. The ebook contains 39 chapters, so there’s still a lot to read! The book isn’t quite ready for paperback, but a lot of you have said you’re on pins and needles so we decided to give you access to advance reader copies. You can grab it here, for as low as $2. Here’s where the story left off last time. The fire in the woodstove had burned down to coals, just enough to glow behind the grate. Outside, the forest had gone still, that deep-mountain quiet where even the crickets seemed to hold their breath, waiting for… something. Ariel sat cross-legged on the lavender velvet couch, wrapped in a colorful granny-square blanket Kate had crocheted. Her long, thick hair was still damp from her shower, curling in a halo of little ringlets around her face. The small bells from the fishing-line perimeter jingled faintly whenever the wind shifted, but the cans—the sign the perimeter was breached—were silent. Kate checked each window once more before settling uneasily into the big leather armchair across from her. She kept her voice low. “You did good today, kiddo. I know you’re scared.” Ariel gave a lopsided shrug. “Scared’s not the same as weak, right?” That earned a thin smile. “No. It isn’t.” Kate studied her daughter’s face—pale under the lamplight but steady. “Tomorrow I’m getting up early to look for his trail. Just far enough to see which direction he’s working from.” “You’re leaving me here? Alone?” Ariel’s voice cracked, then steadied, though it came out higher than normal. She was not on board with the plan. “What if he comes back? What if we don’t even make it until tomorrow before he comes back, Mom?” “He won’t tonight,” Kate said firmly, though she believed it only halfway. “Tomorrow, if he does, those bells will tell you long before he’s close. You grab the Glock, you get behind the refrigerator, and you wait for him to make the first move.” Ariel swallowed. “And then?” “Then you scream bloody murder and shoot till he stops moving. By then, I’ll be on my way back.” The girl nodded, but her eyes glistened. “And what if you don’t come back?” Kate reached across the arm of the leather chair and took her hand. For a breath, she felt the small, private crack of that possibility open inside her, until she slammed it shut and continued speaking with practiced calm. “Then you walk down to the Slocum place in daylight, get onto the ranger road, and keep walking until you hit the first mailbox. Somebody will stop for you.” She paused and stared into her daughter’s eyes, willing her to feel the oath in her words. “But I will come back.” They sat in silence for a while, listening to the stove tick and the soft sigh of the wind. Somewhere outside, an owl called. After a time, Ariel whispered, “Mom?” “Yes?” “Do you think he’s out there right now? Watching?” Kate’s gaze drifted to the window where the dark pressed against the glass. “Yes,” she said quietly. “He probably is. Let him watch out there in the cold while we are warm and cozy in here. Tomorrow we’ll make sure he sees exactly what we want him to see.” Ariel’s grip tightened. “Promise me one thing?” “What’s that?” “End this. For good.” Kate didn’t answer. She only squeezed her daughter’s hand, then stood and added a log on top of the coals, careful to place it just right so it would smolder overnight and keep them warm. Ariel shifted, then rose and padded to the kitchen, where the refrigerator hunched like a pale sentinel. She ducked behind it and peeked out, testing how she could move from one side to the other without being seen, a small, rehearsed motion that felt ridiculous and brave all at once. Kate watched the practice, a slight shudder at the back of her throat. It was one thing to do these little drills and practice runs in the safety of a course. It was quite another watching Ariel prepare for actual combat. When Ariel returned to the sofa, Kate joined her, pulling her close in a maternal embrace. All the while, the bells outside gave soft, nervous chimes that faded into the night. Chapter 27 When Ariel woke up, her mother was standing at the open door, staring out into the forest. “Good morning, sweet girl.” Mom always knew when she was awake, sometimes without even looking. “Morning, Mama,” Ariel said sleepily as she padded to the bathroom. When she emerged, her mom looked serious, the easy warmth of the morning already gone. “I have an extra pistol for you. I’m trusting you to use good judgment with this.” Ariel nodded soberly as her mother placed the gun in her hand, butt first. It was heavy, but a familiar weight. She’d had lessons, and she and her mom regularly went to a shooting range to keep their skills sharp. “Keep the door locked behind me. Don’t open it for anyone. Not even me, unless I knock twice and say your name.” Ariel hesitated, then stood and wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist. “Be careful.” Kate pressed her cheek to the top of Ariel’s head, breathing in soap and woodsmoke, holding on for one extra heartbeat. “Always.” When Mom stepped out onto the porch, Ariel dutifully locked the door behind her and shoved the armoire into place, making it screech across the floor. Then she stood at the living room window, silent and still, until her mother disappeared into the forest. … A faint jingle echoed through the cabin. One of the bells. Ariel froze, breath caught in her throat. She had taken an older book off the shelf to try to calm herself. She had read The Secret Garden a thousand times, and she could practically recite it, line by line. That beautiful, familiar story, she was sure, would help settle her nerves. The sound came once, then nothing. She waited, ears straining, counting in her head. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. No follow-up noise—maybe it had been the wind. She slipped behind the refrigerator, crouched low, gun in hand. The tile floor pressed cold through her socks. She could smell coffee and her mother’s soap. It reminded her that Mom was out there, moving through the woods alone, hunting. She shivered. She got up from her place behind the refrigerator and put on her boots so her feet would be warm, and so she’d be ready. Ready for what, she wasn’t sure. She just knew she’d feel better with her shoes on. Then she took a pillow from the couch, the afghan, and her book, and set up a retreat behind the cover of the refrigerator. A bulletproof pillow fort, she thought, and almost giggled wildly. Her heart thudded so loudly she was sure he’d hear it through the walls. … She thought back to when she had been taken by Logan. On the third day with Logan, Ariel decided to trick him. She pretended to be sick. She coughed and coughed. She attempted to look wan and lethargic. She complained of a bad headache and sore throat. She even cried some to prove how bad she felt. Logan, of course, did not have any children’s cough syrup at the awful cabin he was keeping her in. When he set off to go get more, Ariel sobbed even louder, pretending she was scared to be left behind. She thought about Mom and her room at home. She thought about her Tamagatchi that she had named Amelia, after the famous pilot. She figured Amelia would be dead because nobody would remember to feed her. All of these thoughts helped her bring real tears on display. So it was no surprise when Logan said she could come with him. He wasn’t super nice about it and told her she’d better not make any trouble. They got into his truck again, Ariel fake-coughing and Logan trying to find something on the radio besides preacher shows.  Finally, they arrived in a town that she didn’t recognize. They must have gone the opposite way from home, she thought. When they passed a bus station she stared at it longingly for a moment, then looked down and coughed some more. She didn’t want to give away her plan. When they arrived at the CVS parking lot, Ariel brought herself to tears again. No, she absolutely did not want to go inside with Logan while he bought childrens’ cough syrup and tylenol. She just wanted to take a nap in the truck. Logan got out, taking the keys with him and locking his door behind him. Ariel leaned her head against the passenger window and watched him go inside through her eyelashes.  Once he was in, she opened her eyes all the way and looked at the store. He didn’t appear to be near any of the windows. This was her chance. She scootched across the leather seats over to the driver side door. When she opened it, the alarm erupted since it had been locked from the outside. She froze for only a second, and then she ran. She ran as fast as she could, all the way down the road they had driven on that had a bus station. She’d never used a bus for transportation aside from the school bus, but she was confident she could figure it out.  She ran into the station then visited the bathroom for a minute to catch her breath. She had never run so fast in her entire life. She splashed some water on her face and sat on a toilet just to rest. Finally, she felt like she was ready to face the world again. The station was confusing but soon she found that all the stops had signs that lit up with the name of the destinations. She found one for her town and discovered it was aready loading to leave. She was ecstatic that she’d soon see Mom again. She boarded the bus and politely said hello to the driver. She began to walk past and he reached his arm out to block her. “Where’s your ticket, Little Missy?” Ariel hadn’t known she’d need a ticket, and now she felt kind of dumb. The tears in her eyes were real this time. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I needed a ticket, but I have to get home.” She began to outright sob, which was embarrassing. The driver asked how old she was, where her Mom was, and why she was traveling alone. It didn’t take him long to figure out that there was something very wrong. She looked out the window and saw Logan. He was so tall that he stood higher than most of the people at the bus station. And he looked very, very mad. He was so mad his face was red. “Please don’t make me get off the bus,” Ariel cried. She felt like she might throw up.”I’m afraid my mom’s ex-boyfriend will make me go with him.” That was when Logan spotted her. He came up to the bus and asked the driver if he could get his little girl. “I’m NOT his little girl!” Ariel told the driver. “Don’t make me go with him!” The kindly driver patted her arm and promised she could stay on the bus. He told her that he’d wait there with her until the police arrived. She hadn’t know he had called the police but she was glad he did. When the police arrived, the short one looked at his phone and at her. “I think it’s her,” he said to the taller policeman. She looked around nervously, and she couldn’t see Logan anymore. It was safe to get off the bus with the policemen. “What’s your name, sweetie?” the tall one asked. “My name is Ariel Lindsey,” she replied, proud that she could easily answer his question. “Oh, honey, your mama has the whole state looking for you!” the short one chimed in. They told her she was a smart girl. Then they drove her right home to see her Mom, and the very bad adventure with Logan was over… … Ariel shuddered and strained to hear the bells again. The fire had sunk to embers, and the woodstove’s contents glowed faintly orange. She glanced toward the front windows but kept her body angled behind cover. She wanted to add another log to the fire and had just about talked herself into it when she froze again, listening. The refrigerator clicked, then resumed its low hum, loud in the quiet cabin. Then—another sound. A single can clinked, sharper this time, followed by the light brush of something against the porch railing. That was definitely something. She lifted the Glock with trembling hands and sighted toward the door. “Please be the wind, please be the wind,” she whispered over and over, a desperate one-line prayer. Someone was out there. Outside, the line of bells shivered once more. What happens next? Find out with an advanced reader copy! About Daisy Daisy Luther is a coffee-swigging author and blogger who’s traded her air miles for a screen porch, having embraced a more homebody lifestyle after a serious injury. She’s the heart and mind behind The Organic Prepper, a top-tier website where she shares what she’s learned about preparedness, self-reliance, and the pursuit of liberty. With 17 books under her belt, Daisy’s insights on living frugally, surviving tough times, finding some happiness in the most difficult situations, and embracing independence have touched many lives. Her work doesn’t just stay on her site; it’s shared far and wide across alternative media, making her a familiar voice in the community. Known for her adventurous spirit, she’s lived in five different countries and raised two wonderful daughters as a single mom. Now living in the beautiful state of North Carolina, Daisy has been spreading her knowledge through blogging for 15 years now.  She is the best-selling author of 5 traditionally published books, 12 self-published books, and runs a small digital publishing company with PDF guides, printables, and courses at SelfRelianceand Survival.com You can find her on Facebook, Pinterest, and X. The post Haven Hill: Chapter 26-27 appeared first on The Organic Prepper.

For years, pharmaceutical executives have insisted that drug prices are out of their hands. Government red tape, research costs, and reimbursement rules are all offered as explanations for why Americans pay more at the pharmacy counter than anyone else in the developed world.  It’s a tidy narrative. It’s also only half-true—pharma could easily drop its prices. But government has ensured that it has little reason to do so. In a functioning market, companies charge what the market will bear. Those prices typically lower over time due to innovation, competition, and other factors. In only a few industries has the opposite happened—housing, higher education, and health care—all industries where incentives are skewed by government policies.  In the pharmaceutical industry, many factors create market disincentives. For example, U.S. taxpayers contribute roughly $17 billion each year to early-stage research and clinical studies, yet companies still price their products as if every cost rests solely on their own books. In most industries, a subsidy of that size would reduce the final price of a product. In pharmaceuticals, it has done the opposite. Then there’s the government-guaranteed demand. Schools and the military require routine vaccinations, while federal insurance programs cover millions of prescriptions. These are not competitive markets. They are compelled markets where suppliers face little risk of losing large blocks of customers. Whenever demand is guaranteed by federal or state policy, the incentive to price competitively weakens. A market that cannot walk away is a market that pays more. Finally, we have patent abuse, where pharmaceutical companies create virtual monopolies by extending patents for critical and life-saving drugs again and again (and again), far beyond reason and beyond what many patients can afford. Most industries do not enjoy this combination of subsidized research and guaranteed large scale buyers. A restaurant chain cannot rely on federal dollars to cover its early expansion. A tech startup cannot demand that public schools purchase its software. An airline cannot treat government agencies as automatic customers who have no alternative suppliers. They all compete in markets where price is constrained by consumer choice and competitive pressure. The irony is that pharma companies are behaving exactly as economic theory predicts. Again, students complain about high college prices—but they keep going up because of government loan, scholarship, and other policies that bring in billions as long as students can be convinced to sign the dotted line. The same is true in housing, where well-intentioned government homeownership goals have created poor incentives for lenders and buyers alike (see the 2007 financial crash for an example of what happens when those incentive-created bubbles eventually pop). The problem is not that companies follow incentives. The problem is that the incentives in the pharma market are distorted by public policy choices that tilt the field in one direction. The lesson for policymakers and the public is straightforward. If we want a drug market that behaves like a market, we must design one. That means aligning research incentives with affordability and rethinking mandates that guarantee revenue without requiring accountability.  A firm’s first obligation is to its owners. If the structure of a market allows it to raise prices, reduce competition or shield revenue, the firm is expected to pursue those advantages. And there is nothing inherently wrong with companies pursuing profit. But there is something wrong with a system that shields them from the competitive forces that keep other industries honest. When companies say they can’t lower prices, it usually means that they simply don’t want to. But prices are choices made by all market players—such as consumers, manufacturers, and government regulators. The sooner we acknowledge that prices are not set in stone, the sooner Americans can stop footing the bill for a pharmaceutical system that pretends otherwise. We publish a variety of perspectives. Nothing written here is to be construed as representing the views of The Daily Signal. The post Big Pharma’s High Prices Are Its Own Decision—and the Government’s Fault appeared first on The Daily Signal.

The final words of a brave man.

The trio of PBS News Hour anchor Amna Nawaz, New York Times columnist David Brooks, and MS NOW host Jonathan Capehart assembled on Friday to attack President Trump for allegedly using “overtly racist rhetoric” at a recent speech, but nobody cared to actually specify what they found so objectionable. Nawaz, who just won a Walter Cronkite Award for supposedly being able to bring diverse viewpoints to the show, began with Brooks and rattled off a list of things she considered setbacks for the administration before turning the speech, “At the same time, we're seeing a ramping up of the president's overtly racist rhetoric. That affordability speech in Pennsylvania just devolved into an anti-immigrant, racist rant. David, are those things related?” Trump said many things in that speech, but two things he brought up that nobody at PBS wanted to talk about were the Somali welfare fraud scandal rocking Minnesota and the fact that Rep. Ilhan Omar “does nothing but bitch. She's always complaining.” The welfare fraud scandal is real, and even if one wants to demand presidents use G-rated language in public, it is still true that Omar is always complaining and running down the country that granted her asylum—not to mention her frequent descents into anti-Semitism.     As for Brooks, he replied, “Unclear. It could be just he's getting crankier and older. He's not — he's always talked about certain kind of countries when referring to certain developing world countries. That was first term. He's always used this kind of language. Is he using it more nastily? Yes. Is it tied to his falling approvals? I'm not sure.” Brooks then referenced the recently released National Security Strategy, “This is taking some of that idea that we're — we in the West have to fight off the hordes from the rest of the world. That's not only in a speech. That is the official foreign policy of the United States of America. And so that culture war mind-set is now from maybe back of mind or medium of mind, now it's front of mind, both in random rhetoric, but also in policy.” Capehart lamented, “I don't think it's random rhetoric. This is something that the president has done time and time again, when he was running for president the first time, when he became president, when he ran for president, especially the second time. And now that he's president a second time, it is right there.” He also claimed, “And when we have seen him go all in on racist rhetoric, it's when he's trying to scratch at that itch, that emotional, fearful itch to get people, I think, to get away from affordability and what's happening to them in their budgets and their pocketbooks, and get them to fearing and being afraid of their neighbors, being afraid of people around them as just a distraction.” Capehart concluded by insisting that “I think the more we talk about it, the more we shine light on it, the more we don't let him get away with saying what he said in Scranton. I think the better it is for all of us. It's not easy to hear the president of the United States say the things that he's been saying, not just in Scranton, but during this presidency. We have to hold a mirror up to him just so that we are forced to contend with what he's saying.” In that case, “we” should also look at his claim that immigration without assimilation is destined to end badly, but again, nobody at PBS wanted to discuss that. Here is a transcript for the December 12 show: PBS News Hour 12/12/2025 7:50 PM ET AMNA NAWAZ: At the same time, we're seeing a ramping up of the president's overtly racist rhetoric. That affordability speech in Pennsylvania just devolved into an anti-immigrant, racist rant. David, are those things related? DAVID BROOKS: Unclear. It could be just he's getting crankier and older. He's not — he's always talked about certain kind of countries when referring to certain developing world countries. That was first term. He's always used this kind of language. Is he using it more nastily? Yes. Is it tied to his falling approvals? I'm not sure. I think there's been a shift in the mind-set of the administration compared to Trump One. And we saw it not only in what he says in some random speech. We saw it in the most important event of the week, which was the release of the national security strategy, where they talked about civilizational erasure. This is taking some of that idea that we're — we in the West have to fight off the hordes from the rest of the world. That's not only in a speech. That is the official foreign policy of the United States of America. And so that culture war mind-set is now from maybe back of mind or medium of mind, now it's front of mind, both in random rhetoric, but also in policy. JONATHAN CAPEHART: I don't think it's random rhetoric. This is something that the president has done time and time again, when he was running for president the first time, when he became president, when he ran for president, especially the second time. And now that he's president a second time, it is right there. And when we have seen him go all in on racist rhetoric, it's when he's trying to scratch at that itch, that emotional, fearful itch to get people, I think, to get away from affordability and what's happening to them in their budgets and their pocketbooks, and get them to fearing and being afraid of their neighbors, being afraid of people around them as just a distraction. And I think the more we talk about it, the more we shine light on it, the more we don't let him get away with saying what he said in Scranton. I think the better it is for all of us. It's not easy to hear the president of the United States say the things that he's been saying, not just in Scranton, but during this presidency. We have to hold a mirror up to him just so that we are forced to contend with what he's saying.

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Germany will host U.S. and Ukrainian delegations over the weekend for talks on a ceasefire in Ukraine, before a summit with European leaders and President Volodymyr Zelenskyy in Berlin on Monday, a German official said.