The Trump campaign’s descent into chaos is nothing short of theatrical. At the center of this drama is Laura Loomer, a far-right activist with a long history of racist and conspiratorial comments. Her presence in Trump’s circle has caused significant tension within the GOP, with figures like Marjorie Taylor Greene and Senator Lindsey Graham calling for Trump to distance himself from her.
Greene publicly criticized Loomer for her damaging rhetoric, accusing her of being a “crazy racist” who is fracturing the Republican Party. Graham, usually one of Trump’s closest allies, echoed similar sentiments, labeling Loomer as “toxic” and advising Trump to sever ties with her. Despite these warnings, Loomer has struck back, targeting Graham with personal attacks, even insinuating rumors about his sexuality.
Trump, meanwhile, has continued to recycle old tactics, now focusing his xenophobic rhetoric on Haitian migrants. His fearmongering, combined with the growing dissent within his own ranks, suggests that this strategy is alienating voters rather than winning new support. With the GOP in turmoil and legal challenges looming over him in New York, Trump’s path back to the White House looks increasingly narrow.
The internal conflicts, coupled with Trump’s insistence on using figures like Loomer, signal a campaign spiraling out of control. His rallies and speeches have become repetitive, filled with complaints about unfair treatment and self-praise, but lacking any real policy substance. The message is clear: Trump’s political future seems headed toward an inevitable decline, with the jailhouse looking more probable than the White House.
My Concerns About Prince William. By Kio Amachree
I am deeply concerned about Prince William, and here’s why. I’ve met many people like him when I was at Eton College in the early seventies. He also attended Eton, and I’ve learned much about him from the parents of friends and associates. I recognize certain traits in him—arrogance, a sense of superiority, and a belief in entitlement that I’ve seen in many of the boys at Eton.
When I first arrived at Eton, I was one of only two Black boys at the school. From day one, I was exposed to racism. I overheard two boys, senior students, discussing their holidays in Barbados, referring to the local people as “Wogs.” It was a stark contrast to my time at Holmewood House, my prep school in Tunbridge Wells, where I experienced no racism. Eton, however, was different—it had a harsh, elitist culture. Boys like William came from privileged backgrounds and carried themselves with an air of superiority.
William, from what I’ve learned, thrived at Eton. He joined the elite group of prefects known as “Pop.” These were the school’s leaders, recognizable by their colorful waistcoats and elevated status. Pop prefects had immense power over other students, including the ability to discipline younger boys. I heard that William stood by while his younger brother Harry was bullied at Eton—teased about his red hair and whispers about who his real father was. And when Harry sought support from William, he found nothing but a cold shoulder. In such an elite and isolating environment like Eton, this is concerning. You’re expected to grow up fast or drown, and when someone as close as your brother doesn’t stand by you, it can be devastating.
Eton, at the time, was a place where you had to survive on your own. There were no dormitories; you were given your own room from day one, and there was no real support system. It was a school for tough young men, and you were expected to either rise to the challenge or be left behind. William became part of the school’s elite circle, “Pop,” while I never did. I wasn’t the kind of person they wanted in Pop—I was a Black boy who was too liberal for them, too grounded in who I was. I succeeded in sports and earned my First Eleven colors, but I wasn’t interested in fitting in with that elitist group.
My Black friend Johnny, on the other hand, desperately wanted to fit in. He went out of his way to be accepted by the boys in Pop, doing everything to win their approval. Johnny was big, strong, and one of the best sportsmen at the school, so they elected him to Pop. But I knew the truth—they didn’t respect him. They mocked him behind his back, called him names, and talked about his appearance. Johnny, sadly, didn’t see it. He thought he was part of their world, but they were leading him down a dangerous path. They introduced him to drugs, and it eventually led to his downfall. Johnny ran away from Eton, triggering a nationwide manhunt, and later died of a suspected drug overdose. He had gone on to Harvard but fell in with the wrong crowd, leading to his tragic end.
William reminds me of those boys. He may not have directly contributed to Johnny’s fate, but I see similar traits in how he’s handled relationships, particularly with his brother Harry. The way he has seemingly distanced himself from Harry over the years is troubling. Loyalty and support, especially between brothers, should be paramount, especially given what they both went through after the death of their mother, Princess Diana.
I also knew another boy at Eton named Nick. Nick was very similar to William—arrogant, cocky, and deeply invested in his own status. He was the head of Pop, head of soccer, and the top of nearly everything. He acted like he owned the place, even though his background was no different from mine. He had a public persona of authority and superiority, but privately, he was different. Nick and I were friends; he would invite me to his home on weekends, and we’d enjoy music, women, and good times. But at school, he played the part of the untouchable elite. One day, he threatened to drop me from the First Eleven cricket team, and I told him exactly where to go—and he backed down. I wasn’t going to let anyone, not even someone like Nick, stop me from being the fastest and most dangerous bowler in school.
Nick’s story ended tragically as well. After school, he married one of the richest women in England and seemed to have it all. But it wasn’t enough. His marriage fell apart, and after his wife left him, Nick took his own life. I wasn’t surprised. Beneath his bravado, there was a deep unhappiness, just like Johnny. Both of these boys came from privileged backgrounds, just like William, but in the end, the weight of their status and the pressure to maintain it proved too much for them.
William seems to be heading down a similar path. From what I’ve observed, he appears stressed, worn down, and trapped by the weight of his responsibilities. His relationship with Harry has clearly deteriorated, and I suspect that William feels deeply betrayed. After the bond they shared following their mother’s death, it must be hard for him to understand how Harry could walk away from royal life. But William’s perspective seems to be shaped by the same elitist mindset I saw at Eton—an inability to break free from tradition and the belief that loyalty to the institution is paramount.
What worries me most is that William may not realize how deeply affected he is by all of this. The strain of public life, the family tensions, and the immense pressure of his role appear to be taking a toll on him, just like they did on others I knew at Eton. I hope William can find the help he needs before it’s too late.
The Gnostic Scriptures: A Radical Departure from Mainstream Christianity. By Kio Amachree
The Gnostic scriptures, such as the Gospel of Thomas and Apocryphon of John, present a strikingly different view of Jesus and God from traditional Christianity. While mainstream doctrine sees Jesus as the savior through his crucifixion and resurrection, Gnostics view him as a revealer of secret knowledge (gnosis) that leads to spiritual liberation.
Gnosticism also introduces the concept of the Demiurge—an ignorant, flawed creator god responsible for the material world’s suffering, contrasting with the transcendent, True God. Verses like “He said, ‘I am God, and there is no other god beside me,'” from the Apocryphon of John, reveal the Demiurge’s blindness to the higher reality.
For Gnostics, the material world is a prison for divine souls, and salvation comes through inner awakening, not through traditional sacraments or obedience to the Old Testament God. This esoteric view challenges the foundation of Christian orthodoxy, emphasizing knowledge over faith for spiritual redemption.
