Long live Tommy Robinson!!! https://t.co/o3qqHt8mwp — Alex Jones (@RealAlexJones) December 8, 2025

by Michael Snyder, The Economic Collapse Blog: All over the globe, the digital control grid that we are all living in just continues to get even tighter. They are using facial recognition technology to scan our faces, they are using license plate readers to track where we travel, they are systematically monitoring the conversations that we […]

from ZeroHedge: Update (1300ET): Elon Musk is not taking the outrageous fine from Brussels bureaucrats lying down, lashing out at EU officialdom for taking on Nazi characteristics and oppressing their own citizens’ best interests… As Catherine Salgado reports for PJMedia.com, Musk also re-shared a post about Irish teacher Enoch Burke, who was jailed for refusing to use transgender pronouns, and […]

from The Jimmy Dore Show: TRUTH LIVES on at https://sgtreport.tv/

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  On a hot day in 1924, a young Australian anatomist named Raymond Dart was sitting at his desk, steadily chipping away at a piece of rock. Gradually, as Dart worked, a tiny fossilized skull emerged from the surrounding stone. It was surprisingly well preserved with wide eye sockets and its little teeth still in place. Dart quickly realized he was looking at a new species, one he would eventually decide to call Australopithecus africanus, the “Southern Ape of Africa.” On that day, no one could have known that this ancient child’s skull would ignite one of the fiercest scientific controversies of the century. It would place Africa at the heart of the human origin story, forcing a rethinking of how our ancestors evolved.   The Discovery in Taung Cast in three parts (endocranium, face, and mandible) of a 2.1 million-year-old Australopithecus africanus specimen known as the Taung child, discovered in South Africa. Source: University of the Witwatersrand, Johannesburg, South Africa   The story of the Taung child’s discovery began in the quarries of the Beers Consolidated Mines. In the 1920s, limestone was blasted out by dynamite, and laborers sometimes found fossilized animal remains encased in the rubble. Quarry managers often sent these finds to local universities, where scientists could study them.   It was in this way that crates of fossil-bearing breccia reached Raymond Dart, a promising young academic at the University of the Witwatersrand in Johannesburg. He had fought in World War I, and now, at only 31, he was already a Professor and serving as the chair of anatomy at the university.   When Dart received the crate from the quarry, he thought little of it. He had an interest in comparative anatomy and hoped the fossil contained in the rock might be useful as a prop for his lectures. But when he took a closer look at the fossil, his curiosity was piqued.   After working for hundreds of hours to free the ancient bones from the breccia, Dart found himself looking at the skull of a juvenile primate; only about three or four years old when it had died. He could tell that it was an ape, but it was unlike any ape species he knew of. The skull had small teeth, a flatter face than other apes, and large eyes. What was even more exciting, though, was that the position of the foramen magnum, a hole at the base of the skull for the spinal cord to attach to the brain, was exactly like ours.   Position of the Foramen The position of the foramen magnum in the human skull. Source: Encyclopedia Britannica   In modern apes and primates, the foramen magnum is located at the back of the skull because they walk on four legs. In humans, however, it is found directly underneath the brain because we walk upright. This fossil ape, which Dart realised was a previously unknown species, clearly walked upright as well.   In February 1925, Dart published his findings in the journal Nature and gave the new species the name Australopithecus africanus. He claimed it was a human ancestor that lived in South Africa over two million years ago.   Science Against the Current Reconstruction of the skull of “Piltdown Man,” by James H. McGregor. Source: Museum of Natural History, London   Dart’s announcement of A. africanus, however, did not go quite as well as he might have liked. In the early 20th century, scientific understanding of human origins was dominated by theories that our lineage emerged in Europe. Many leading scientists clung to this idea, which was supported by fossils like the Piltdown Man skull.   Discovered in England in 1912, the Piltdown skull appeared to show exactly what many scientists believed human evolution should look like. For one, it was found on British soil, but it also had a large, human-shaped braincase attached to an ape-like jaw with big teeth. It corresponded neatly with the conventional wisdom of the time that big brains were the first evolutionary leap in the human lineage. It was not until the 1950s that the skull was exposed as a fake, so for more than 30 years, Piltdown Man was hailed as the “missing link.”   When Dart claimed that the Taung Child demonstrated the opposite pattern to Piltdown Man, a smaller brain, small teeth, and upright walking, he was treated with scorn.   Respected scientists like Sir Arthur Keith and Grafton Elliot Smith called Dart naïve. The London Times downplayed the discovery, referring to it only as “a badly damaged child’s skull.” Others simply laughed at the idea that Africa, a continent they thought of as primitive and in need of colonization by white people, could be the cradle of humanity.   Dart was disappointed by the response of his fellow scientists, but he was not discouraged. He did his best to spread the news, giving newspaper and radio interviews, and continuing to publish new reports on the Taung Child as he learned more about it.   The only problem was that Dart lacked further fossils to strengthen his case, so people gradually lost interest. That is, until years later, when paleontologist Robert Broom uncovered more australopith fossils in South African caves like Sterkfontein and Kromdraai. These fossils, which belonged to adult individuals, helped to reinforce Dart’s interpretation that our early ancestors came from Africa, not Europe or Asia.   Why the Taung Child Mattered Australopithecus africanus paleoanthropological sites in South Africa (Taung, Makapansgat, Gladysvale, Sterkfontein). Source: Wikimedia Commons   These days, scientists who study human origins practically all agree that the Taung Child was one of the most, if not the most, important fossil human discoveries of the 20th century. Why?   Part of the answer lies in what it revealed about the order of evolutionary change. Until the Taung Child, most scientists believed that humans had evolved their intelligence first, with upright posture and everything else coming later. The Taung Child, however, showed that the reverse was actually the case. Human ancestors had been walking around upright on two legs for millions of years before they evolved the big brains that are so characteristic of our species today.   Of equal significance was its location. Dart’s discovery placed the focus of human origins firmly in Africa. Charles Darwin himself, in 1871, had speculated in The Descent of Man that humans likely evolved in Africa because that is where we find our closest living evolutionary relatives, the chimpanzees and gorillas. But the scientific community mostly ignored that suggestion in favor of Eurocentric theories about human evolution. Then the Taung Child, followed by other Australopithecus discoveries in South Africa, came along and forced everyone to reevaluate what they thought they knew.   In evolutionary terms, the Taung Child helped dismantle one of the most persistent myths in human evolution: the idea of a single “missing link” between us and the apes. For decades, both scientists and the public imagined that somewhere deep in the earth’s layers of sediment, there must lie a fossil that bridged the gap between ape and human; a transitional species that was intermediate between our two lineages. Piltdown Man was considered by many to be exactly what they had been looking for, with its apelike jaw and humanlike cranium seeming to represent a stepping stone from apes on the way to humanity.   A lifelike model of a Neanderthal created by Dutch artists, the Kennis brothers. The scientifically accurate model is based on 40,000-year-old Homo neanderthalensis remains found in Belgium. Source: Natural History Museum, London   However, fossil hominin discoveries from the 19th and early 20th centuries forced scientists to reconsider. First, there was the Neanderthal skull found in Germany in the 1850s, then Java Man (Homo erectus) in the 1890s, and the Mauer jaw (Homo heidelbergensis) in 1907. Considered together with these other ancient hominins, the Taung Child reinforced the truth of human evolution; that there was no “missing link.” Instead, multiple hominin species existed throughout time, with some, like us and the Neanderthals, even coexisting.   Rather than a linear progression from ape to human, the Taung Child and other fossil hominin discoveries indicated that human evolution was like a branching tree, with many different offshoots, some of which ended in extinction, while others gave rise to our species, Homo sapiens.   Within a few decades of its discovery, the Taung Child would be joined in the evolutionary tree by even more hominins. In the late 1930s, through to the 1960s, Louis and Mary Leakey discovered several new species, including Paranthropus boisei and Homo habilis. In 1974, Donald Johanson went on to discover the famous “Lucy,” the near-complete skeleton of a female Australopithecus afarensis, and a close evolutionary relative of the Taung Child from East Africa.   Yet each of these breakthroughs reverberated against the backdrop of Dart’s initial claim: that small-brained bipeds in Africa were central to our origins. Without the Taung Child, the stage for their acceptance might never have been set.   What We Know Today The divergence of humans and great apes from a common ancestor. Source: Encyclopedia Britannica   Nearly a century after Dart discovered the Taung skull, paleoanthropologists have since fleshed out a much fuller picture of Australopithecus africanus. This species lived in southern Africa between about 3.3 and 2.1 million years ago. It is now recognized as one of several australopithecine species during the Pliocene and early Pleistocene.   Morphologically, A. africanus combined primitive, apelike traits and derived, humanlike traits. Adults had brain sizes between 400 and 500 cubic centimeters, larger than chimpanzees but far smaller than modern humans. The skull was rounded with a less prognathous, or protruding, jaw than modern great apes, although it still protruded a bit more than ours. This might have been linked to A. africanus’ smaller teeth.   Modern apes, especially males, have large canine teeth for fighting and display. A. africanus, however, had canines that looked much more like ours. The postcranial skeleton, from the neck down, indicates habitual bipedalism, with the pelvis and lower hips adapted for upright walking, but the arms were long and the fingers were curved, suggesting that climbing trees remained an important part of A. africanus’ lifestyle.   Behaviorally, A. africanus likely would have lived in small social groups in mosaic environments of woodland and savanna. They were around during a time of significant climatic fluctuation in Africa, which may have encouraged them to be adaptable. It is not known for certain which hominin made them, but the earliest stone tools ever found date to 3.3 million years ago. They were discovered at Lomekwi, a site in Kenya. Since A. africanus has only been found in South Africa, it is unlikely that they made the tools at Lomekwi, but it shows that hominins at this time were starting to think outside the box in order to survive.   Selected stone tools from Lomekwi, Kenya, 3.3 million years old. Source: Nature   Soon enough, a new species would emerge in Africa: Homo habilis, the first member of the Homo genus, to which we also belong. It is possible that an australopith like A. africanus or A. afarensis could have been the ancestor of H. habilis, and therefore of us as well.   Even if A. africanus was not our ancestor, and was on another branch of the human evolutionary tree, it remains a cornerstone species for understanding how upright posture and ecological flexibility set the precedent for our origins in Africa.   Legacy and Conclusion Raymond Dart with the Taung Child skull in 1925. Source: Leakey Foundation   The Taung Child’s long path to recognition represents a wider drama of 20th-century paleoanthropology. For years, Raymond Dart’s fossil discovery languished in obscurity, overshadowed by the more readily accepted Piltdown Man.   Only in 1953, when the Piltdown skull was exposed as a hoax, a modern human skull stuck to an orangutan’s jaw, did the balance truly shift. With Piltdown’s fall came Taung’s rise. Africa was not just where our closest evolutionary relatives, the chimpanzees and gorillas, lived; it was where our very own lineage had its origins.

  The Chremonidean War, c. 267-261 BCE, was a turning point in Greek history. The conflict saw the Athenians and the Spartans ally with Ptolemaic Egypt to free Greece from the influence of Antigonus II Gonatas of Macedonia. In a Hellenistic world dominated by monarchies with growing empires, it was the last time the great independent city-states, the polis (poleis), were the protagonists in world events. Despite its importance, the Chremonidean War is little known. A lack of sources makes much of the 3rd century BCE obscure, leaving us with only extremely brief summaries and scattered archaeology to piece together.   Macedonia & Greece The Acropolis of Athens as viewed from the Museum Hill. Source: Copyright Neil Middleton (2025)   The details of the Chremonidean War are lost to us, but its context is easily understood despite the obscurity of the period. Since Philip II of Macedon’s victory over the Athenians and Thebans at the Battle of Chaironeia in 338 BCE, Macedonia had been the dominant power in Greece. Several times, various Greek states had led rebellions against Macedonia, but while each revolt claimed to be on behalf of Greek freedom, they were always the actions of individual states and a small number of allies. The Thebans rose up alone in 335 BCE and were swiftly crushed. That example discouraged others from joining Sparta’s revolt in 331 BCE, which failed. A decade later, the Athenians and Aitolians led a Greek coalition in the unsuccessful Lamian War.   Unable to defeat the Macedonians, Greece became entangled in the Wars of the Successors, which split Alexander the Great’s empire. Macedonia itself suffered through these wars just as much as Greece, but at the end of the 280s BCE, a new dynasty established itself. Antigonus Gonatas, son of the warlord Demetrius Poliorcetes, had led a tumultuous life trying to hold on to the remnants of his father and grandfather’s Antigonid Empire. A power vacuum in Macedonia in 280/79 BCE brought him to the throne, though it was some years until he was secure. His 40-year reign stabilized Macedonia and ensured its role as one of the great powers of its day. For Greece, Antigonus’s rise was further bad news as his long reign left behind a legacy of garrisons and tyrants that oppressed several Greek states.   Hellenistic Athens & Sparta Silver coin of Antigonus Gonatas. Source: British Museum   By the 3rd century BCE, the glory days of Athens and Sparta were a distant memory. The Spartans’ time as the most significant Greek military power ended when they were defeated by the Thebans at Leuktra in 371 BCE. That they recovered enough to rebel against Macedonia in 331/0BCE under King Agis III was impressive, even if Alexander disparagingly referred to the Spartan effort as a “war of mice.” Indeed, Sparta’s relative insignificance was often what saved it from destruction or total defeat as great powers invaded but became distracted and left to hunt bigger quarry.   After Agis’ defeat, it took half a century for Sparta to recover. However, by 281 BCE, signs of a renewed attempt to re-enter international politics were evident. A key figure in this process was King Areus I (c. 309-265 BCE). The Spartans had long had a peculiar dual monarchy with two kings reigning together. Areus marks the rise of a single, powerful ruler in Sparta who overshadowed their co-king and projected an international image similar to that of other Hellenistic kings (O’Neill, 2008, p. 68). Issuing Sparta’s first silver coinage, bearing his name and image, and an expedition to Delphi in 281 BCE, were meant to demonstrate a reinvigorated Sparta under a king of equal standing with his Hellenistic peers.   Hellenistic style silver coinage of Areus I. Source: Gallica Bibliothèque nationale de France   The Athenians had also lived through difficult times in the early Hellenistic era. In contrast to Sparta, Athens was a valuable target. Its wealth and size, and especially its large port at Piraeus, made it an important prize for any passing great power. The half century since defeat in the Lamian War had seen several regimes rise and fall. When possible, the Athenians attempted to reestablish their democracy, but they were often forced to endure periods of oligarchy and tyranny backed by a Hellenistic dynasty. But the Athenians stubbornly refused to give up on the idea of democracy and autonomy (Worthington, 2021, p. 22). In 286 BCE, the Athenians expelled the Antigonid garrison on the Museum hill opposite the Acropolis. Democracy was restored, but crucially, the Antigonids continued to hold the port of Piraeus and perhaps other sites in the Athenian territory of Attica.   The Chremonidean Decree Copy of the Chremonidean Decree, c. 266/265 BCE. Source: Institute for Advanced Study   The conflict of the 260s BCE owes its name to a decree passed by the Athenian assembly in 269/8 BCE by Chremonides of Aithalidai. The decree proposing an alliance between Athens and Sparta has survived through an inscribed copy discovered on the Athenian Acropolis and is one of the war’s few primary sources.   Though he has given his name to the war, we know little about Chremonides. He may, as did Antigonus Gonatas, have studied under Zeno of Citium, the founder of Stoicism, while his brother, Glaucon, was an Olympic victor (Worthington, 2021, p. 117). His rise probably represents the generation of Athenian politicians who led the re-established democracy of the 280s and wished to fully liberate Attica.   The decree is an alliance between Athens and Sparta, which calls for the two cities to unite and free Greece as they did in the Persian Wars in 480-479 BCE. We can see the war aims of each side in the decree. The Athenians want Spartan help in liberating their territory. The Spartans, listed alongside their Peloponnesian and Cretan allies, gain the prestige of once again leading Greece. Interestingly, Areus is mentioned by name numerous times, showing that he now far outshone his fellow Spartan king and had become one of the most prominent figures in Greece. Success in the war would only further enhance Areus’ personal power and prestige.   Ptolemy II Philadelphus, c. 3rd century BCE. Source: Brooklyn Museum   The real central figure of the coming war also features in the decree. King Ptolemy II of Egypt is often regarded as the guiding force behind the alliance. The Ptolemies likely supplied money to the Spartans and assisted the Athenians with the liberation of Athens in 286 BCE, and with food supplies in the difficult years of the 280s (Worthington, 2021, p. 104).   This new alliance aligned all three parties in one project. The Antigonids and Ptolemies had long been rivals with their spheres of influence colliding in the Aegean. The trigger for the war could well be a clash between the Antigonids and Ptolemies in the region in 270 BCE (Waterfield, 2021, p. 160). The Greek allies were then the Ptolemaic instrument to strike Antigonus. In this sense, the war was a Ptolemaic rather than a Greek initiative (Waterfield, 2021, pp. 160, Worthington, 2021, p. 118).   The war that followed Chremonides’ decree was an alliance of the Athenians, Spartans, and Ptolemies against Antigonus. The Athenians hoped to liberate Attica. For Sparta, and perhaps more importantly for Areus, this was an attempt to lead Greece once more. Behind it all was the great power conflict between the Ptolemies and Antigonids.   Areus’ War Ancient Corinth and the Acrocorinth. Source: Copyright Neil Middleton (2025)   The war began in 268/7 BCE, soon after the alliance in the Chremonides’ decree was concluded. One of our brief narrative accounts, Pausanias (3.6), mentions that Antigonus attacked Athens with an army and fleet, making the next six years of conflict a protracted siege of Athens. Aid was sent from Egypt in the form of the Ptolemaic commander Patroclus, but he arrived with only a small naval force, and his marines could not challenge Antigonus’ army. This left Areus and the Spartans as the alliance’s primary force.   Though Sparta was allied with only a few Peloponnesian states, and others were certainly Antigonid allies, we do not hear of any fighting in the Peloponnese for most of the war. Areus’ task was to link up with the Athenians and Patroclus in Attica to confront Antigonus. This meant getting past the strong Antigonid garrison in the formidable fortress of Acrocorinth, which controlled the isthmus connecting the Peloponnese to mainland Greece.   A stone relief of Spartans in battle   It is believed Areus made three attempts to reach Athens in 267, 266, and 265 BCE (Worthington, 2021, p. 120). On one occasion, Areus broke through but turned back when he ran out of supplies and decided it was not worth running the risk just for the sake of his allies (Pausanias 3.6.6). A Hellenistic fortification wall constructed between Athens and Eleusis (20 km west of Athens) has been linked to Antigonus’ attempts to stall Areus’ advance (O’Neill, 2008, p. 77). As our main account of the war focuses on this episode, this may have been the critical point where the allies came closest to victory.   In either 265 or 264 BCE, Areus tried again. However, the Spartan army was defeated near Corinth, and Areus himself died in the battle. The defeat highlighted the fragility of Spartan recovery. Despite being a large polis, its unique social system made it difficult to create new citizens even as its citizen population fell due to wars and inequality. The Spartans were only ever one battle away from total defeat. The events of 265/4 may well have underlined the need for reform, which would lead to revolution in Sparta later in the 3rd century (Cartledge & Spawforth, 2002, p. 33).   Siege of Athens Athenian fortifications at Rhamnous, eastern Attica. Source: Copyright Neil Middleton (2025)   With Areus and the Spartans now out of the war, the Athenians were left to fight on with only limited aid coming from the Ptolemies. The war in Attica probably took the form of a protracted siege and constant small-scale battles for fortified positions to control the countryside. With the Antigonids holding Piraeus, getting enough food into Athens had been a problem since the 280s. With Antigonus’ siege and Areus’ defeat, the situation only deteriorated.   Archaeologists have uncovered evidence that Patroclus established several camps and fortified positions along the coast of Attica, including at Koroni (Porto Rafti) in the east and at Sounion in the south. This must have aided in supplying Athens and allowed access to the countryside for food production. However, there was a tradition that Ptolemaic aid was of little help. Pausanias (1.7.3) later stated that the Ptolemaic fleet “did very little to save Athens.” This has been disputed, and the Athenians held out for several years, something they could not have managed on their own. Still, it is clear the Ptolemies never committed substantial resources to the war. They may have been hindered by the presence of an Antigonid fleet, but mainland Greece was always the outer limit of the Ptolemaic sphere of influence and never a central concern. For the Athenians, the war was a matter of life and death; for their Ptolemaic allies, it was a useful move to keep Antigonus busy, but nothing more.   Unable or unwilling to provide more substantial aid to Athens, the Ptolemies activated their diplomatic networks as the noose tightened. In 263 BCE, Alexander of Epirus, a Ptolemaic ally, invaded Macedonia, forcing Antigonus to call a truce and return north. The hungry Athenians took the opportunity to plant crops, but by the time of the harvest in 262 BCE, Alexander had been defeated, and Antigonus was back in Attica. With their last hope now extinguished, the Athenians had no choice but to surrender.   Kos and the End of the War The Stoa of Antigonus, Delos, symbol of Antigonid influence in the Aegean. Source: Wikimedia Commons   Surrender meant that Antigonid forces returned to the center of Athens and again occupied the Museum hill. Democracy was not formally abolished, but was certainly overseen by the Antigonids. The war to liberate Athenian territory ended with Athens more firmly under the Antigonid thumb.   The surrender in 262 BCE marked a severe decline for Athens. The pressure was eased slightly in the 250s with the withdrawal of the Museum garrison, but Piraeus was not liberated for another 30 years. The city ceased producing silver coinage and was forced to adopt the Antigonid policy. While Chremonides and his brother Glaukon fled to the Ptolemaic court in Alexandria, another prominent Athenian, the local history writer Philochorus, was executed. The loss of this cultural figure, combined with the 261 BCE death of Zeno of Citium, underscored the sense of the end of an era in Athens, while Zeno’s death brought an opportunity for Antigonus, a long-time follower, to make his presence felt (Worthington, 2021, p. 124).   Bust of Zeno of Citium. Source: Biblioteca Europea di Informazione e Cultura   The war ended in a crushing defeat for the Athenians and Spartans, but due to the limitations of our sources, the outcome for the Ptolemies is disputed. A much later source makes a passing reference to a victory of Antigonus over a Ptolemaic fleet off the Aegean island of Kos. The date of the battle is unknown, with some placing it at the end of the Chremonidean War, while others prefer a date a few years later, in the 250s. The later date seems likely given the battle’s absence from our brief accounts and other indications that Antigonus’ influence spread to the central Aegean in the mid-250s. Whatever the date, the victory at Kos reinforced Antigonus’ hold on Greece.   Despite our limited knowledge of events, it is clear that the war was critical to both the victors and the defeated. Antigonus and his successors would be challenged again in Greece, but not by the Athenians or Spartans. The Chremonidean War had shown that the resources of the two great poleis were not enough. Their time had clearly passed on the international stage. It was time now for the federal states, principally Achaia and Aitolia, to pool the resources of several poleis and take the lead against Macedonia.   Select Bibliography    Cartledge, P. and Spawforth, A. (2002) Hellenistic and Roman Sparta: A Tale of Two Cities, Routledge: London.   Kralli, I. (2017) The Hellenistic Peloponnese: Interstate Relations: A Narrative and Analytic History, 371-146 BC, The Classical Press of Wales.   O’Neill, J.L. (2008) “A Re-examination of the Chremonidean War” in McKechnie, P. and Guillaume, P., Ptolemy Philadelphus and His World, pp. 65-90, Brill: Leiden.   Waterfield, R. (2021) The Making of a King: Antigonus Gonatas of Macedon and the Greeks, The University of Chicago Press: Chicago.   Worthington, I. (2021) Athens after Empire: A History from Alexander the Great to the Emperor Hadrian, Oxford University Press.

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