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We propose a cosmological model wherein the universe’s expansion, including the inflationary epoch, is driven by radiation pressure rather than a scalar inflaton field, with the speed of light (\( c \)) transitioning from a global to a local constant as spacetime stretches beyond a 4D Schwarzschild-like causal horizon. Starting at \( t = 0 \) in Planck time units (\( t_P = 5.39 \times 10^{-44} \, \text{s} \)), we describe an initial linear expansion at \( c \), damped by gravity, followed by the onset of radiation pressure at \( t \approx 10^{20} \, t_P \). Exponential inflation emerges at \( t \approx 10^{22} \, t_P \) when causal disconnection occurs, redefining \( c \) as a local parameter tied to spacetime stretching. We explore the model’s implications for early universe dynamics and its consistency with modern observations, such as the cosmic microwave background (CMB) and Hubble expansion.
The standard \(\Lambda\)CDM model posits that the universe began with a Big Bang at \( t = 0 \), followed by a brief inflationary phase driven by an inflaton field from \( t \approx 10^{-36} \, \text{s} \) to \( 10^{-34} \, \text{s} \), succeeded by radiation- and matter-dominated eras [1]. Inflation resolves the horizon and flatness problems via exponential expansion (\( a(t) \propto e^{Ht} \)) [2]. Here, we propose an alternative: radiation pressure, arising from photon interactions post-particle formation, drives both early inflation and ongoing expansion, modulated by a speed of light (\( c \)) that becomes “local” when the universe exceeds a 4D causal horizon inspired by the Schwarzschild metric. This model reinterprets \( c \)’s role in an expanding spacetime, challenging its universality.
At \( t = 0 \), the universe is a singularity, transitioning to a finite size by \( t = 1 \, t_P \). We assume an initial linear expansion, \( a(t) \propto t \), where the proper size \( R(t) = c t \), with \( c = 3 \times 10^8 \, \text{m/s} \). The energy density is Planck-scale, \( \rho \approx 5 \times 10^{96} \, \text{kg} \, \text{m}^{-3} \), yielding a gravitational term in the Friedmann equation: \[ H^2 = \left( \frac{\dot{a}}{a} \right)^2 = \frac{8\pi G \rho}{3} - \frac{k c^2}{a^2} \] For \( a \propto t \), \( H = 1/t \), and curvature (\( k \)) is negligible. No radiation pressure exists, as photons are absent, and expansion is damped by gravity.
By \( t = 10^{20} \, t_P \) (\( 10^{-36} \, \text{s} \)), particle formation occurs, and photons emerge in a quark-gluon plasma at \( T \approx 10^{28} \, \text{K} \). Radiation pressure activates: \[ P = \frac{1}{3} \rho c^2, \quad \rho = \frac{a T^4}{c^2} \] where \( a = 7.566 \times 10^{-16} \, \text{J} \, \text{m}^{-3} \, \text{K}^{-4} \), yielding \( P \approx 10^{92} \, \text{Pa} \). Gravity and inertia (relativistic mass-energy) initially limit its effect.
At \( t = 10^{22} \, t_P \) (\( 10^{-34} \, \text{s} \)), we propose a transition where \( c \) becomes local, tied to a 4D Schwarzschild horizon—the spacetime distance an event propagates at \( c \). For a region of mass \( M = \rho \cdot \frac{4}{3} \pi R^3 \) (\( R = c t \approx 10^{-26} \, \text{m} \)): \[ r_s = \frac{2 G M}{c^2} \approx 1.31 \times 10^{-7} \, \text{m} \] When \( R \) exceeds a causal limit (e.g., particle horizon \( d_p \approx c t \) stretched by expansion), regions decouple. We define \( c \) as local when recession velocity exceeds \( c \), akin to Hubble flow, but posit that \( c_{\text{eff}} \) adjusts with spacetime stretching: \[ c_{\text{eff}} = c_0 \left( \frac{a_0}{a} \right)^\beta \] where \( \beta > 0 \) reflects dilution.
With gravity’s influence lagging (propagating at \( c \) across stretched spacetime), radiation pressure dominates. The acceleration equation: \[ \frac{\ddot{a}}{a} = -\frac{4\pi G}{3} \left( \rho + \frac{3P}{c^2} \right) \] For standard radiation, \( P = \frac{1}{3} \rho c^2 \), yielding deceleration. If \( c_{\text{eff}} \) decreases globally, \( P = \frac{1}{3} \rho c_{\text{eff}}^2 \) may shift dynamics, potentially achieving \( \ddot{a} > 0 \) and \( a \propto e^{Ht} \) if \( H \) stabilizes via local effects.
At \( t = 2.6 \times 10^{71} \, t_P \) (13.8 Gyr), \( T = 2.7 \, \text{K} \), and \( P \approx 10^{-31} \, \text{Pa} \). Local \( c \) persists, with radiation pressure as a relic driver alongside dark energy (\( \Omega_\Lambda \approx 0.7 \)).
This model predicts: 1. Inflation without Inflaton: Radiation pressure, amplified by local \( c \), drives exponential growth from \( t = 10^{22} \, t_P \), smoothing the universe. 2. Local \( c \): \( c \) varies with spacetime stretching, consistent with observed superluminal recession beyond \( d_H = c/H_0 \approx 1.32 \times 10^{26} \, \text{m} \).
Challenges include: - Equation of State: Radiation’s \( P = \frac{1}{3} \rho c^2 \) resists inflation unless \( c_{\text{eff}} \) radically alters dynamics. - Observational Fit: CMB anisotropy and structure formation require tuning \( \beta \) and transition timing. - Relativity: Varying \( c \) contradicts special relativity’s invariance, necessitating a modified framework.
We present a speculative cosmology where radiation pressure and a local \( c \), tied to a 4D causal horizon, replace traditional inflation. While mathematically challenging, it offers a novel perspective on expansion’s drivers. Future work could formalize \( c_{\text{eff}} \)’s evolution and test against CMB data.
[1] Planck Collaboration, "Planck 2018 Results," Astron. Astrophys., 641, A6 (2020).
[2] Guth, A. H., "Inflationary Universe," Phys. Rev. D, 23, 347 (1981).
Received: February 20, 2025
Picture this: 13.8 billion years ago, the universe explodes into existence from a point smaller than an atom. Time starts ticking in tiny increments—Planck time, a mind-boggling \( 5.39 \times 10^{-44} \) seconds—and space begins to stretch. Scientists call this the Big Bang, but what if the story we’ve been told is missing a cosmic twist? What if the speed of light, that ultimate universal constant we call \( c \), isn’t quite as constant as it seems—and what if radiation, the glow of the cosmos, has been pushing the universe apart all along?
In the first fleeting moments, at \( t = 1 \) Planck time, the universe is a speck, tinier than anything we can imagine, buzzing with energy denser than a trillion suns packed into a pinhead. There’s no light as we know it—photons, those massless messengers, haven’t formed yet, so there’s no radiation pressure to speak of. Instead, the universe expands at the speed of light, a straight-line sprint where its size grows as \( c \) times time. Imagine spacetime unfurling like a scroll, but gravity—this monstrous pull from all that energy—tries to reel it back in. It’s a tug-of-war, and for now, expansion just barely wins.
Fast forward to \( t = 10^{20} \) Planck times (that’s still just \( 10^{-36} \) seconds). The universe has cooled enough for particles to pop into existence—quarks, electrons, and yes, photons. Suddenly, there’s light, and it’s bouncing off everything in a hot, chaotic soup. This is where radiation pressure kicks in, a force born from light pushing against matter. At first, it’s feeble—gravity’s grip is still titan-strong, and the inertia of all that energy resists the shove. But the universe keeps growing, and something wild is brewing.
Here’s the kicker: the speed of light isn’t a global rulebook—it’s local, tied to the fabric of spacetime around it. Think of it like this: if the Sun vanished in a puff of matter-antimatter annihilation, Earth would keep orbiting for 8 minutes, oblivious, because gravity’s signal travels at \( c \). In the early universe, everything’s so close that light and gravity connect it all. But by \( t = 10^{22} \) Planck times (\( 10^{-34} \) seconds), the universe is stretching fast—faster than light can keep up across its full span.
This is where the 4D Schwarzschild radius comes in—not just a black hole’s edge, but a spacetime boundary. It’s the limit of how far an event, like a photon’s flash or gravity’s tug, can reach at \( c \) before expansion tears it apart. When the universe’s size outstrips this 4D horizon—when particles on one side can’t “talk” to the other—\( c \) stops being a cosmic constant and becomes a local one. Each patch of spacetime gets its own speed limit, stretched by the expanding fabric between them.
With gravity’s reach lagging, radiation pressure—powered by those relentless photons—takes over. In standard cosmology, light’s push weakens as the universe grows, but here, with \( c \) turning local, it’s as if the pressure gets a boost. The stretching spacetime amplifies light’s shove, overcoming inertia and gravity’s fading grip. The result? Exponential inflation—a runaway expansion where the universe doubles in size every fraction of a second. From a speck to a grapefruit in a cosmic blink, all driven by the glow of radiation, not some mysterious “inflaton” field.
Zoom to now, February 20, 2025, or \( 2.6 \times 10^{71} \) Planck times since the start. The universe is 13.8 billion years old, and its edges are racing away faster than light, beyond our Hubble horizon. That faint microwave glow we detect—the cosmic microwave background, at a chilly 2.7 Kelvin—still exerts a whisper of radiation pressure. It’s tiny, but in this model, it’s a legacy of that early push, stretched across a cosmos where \( c \) is local to each bubble of spacetime. We see galaxies receding, and they see us the same way, each with our own \( c \), stitched into a vast, expanding tapestry.
This isn’t the textbook Big Bang. It ditches the inflaton for radiation pressure and reimagines \( c \) as a local player, tied to spacetime’s stretch and a 4D horizon. Does it hold up? The cosmic microwave background’s smoothness and the universe’s flatness suggest something like inflation happened, and this model aims to fit. But it’s a bold leap—varying \( c \) challenges Einstein’s bedrock, and radiation alone struggles to match the math of standard inflation. Still, it’s a thrilling “what if”: a universe where light doesn’t just illuminate—it expands, stretching space itself into the vastness we call home.
Next time you look at the stars, imagine them riding a wave of radiation, propelled by a speed of light that’s more neighborly than universal. The Big Bang might just have a glow all its own.
The AragoScope Solar Observatory (ASO) aims to revolutionize heliophysics by providing sub-meter resolution imaging of the Sun’s chromosphere and corona, addressing critical unresolved questions in solar science. Leveraging the Arago/Poisson Spot diffraction phenomenon, ASO will overcome limitations of classical telescopes, offering unprecedented detail to probe the following objectives:
These goals align with NASA’s Heliophysics Science Goals (Strategic Plan 2020), particularly understanding solar drivers of space weather and fundamental plasma processes.
Current solar observatories—e.g., the Daniel K. Inouye Solar Telescope (DKIST, 15 km resolution) and Solar Dynamics Observatory (SDO, 725 km)—are limited by atmospheric distortion, detector saturation (~10⁻⁵ W), and thermal noise from heated optics. Space-based classical telescopes (e.g., Hubble, JWST) avoid atmospheres but cannot withstand solar intensity without compromising resolution. The corona’s sub-kilometer features—magnetic loops, flare kernels, CME onset zones—remain unresolved, stalling progress on coronal heating, space weather prediction, and solar wind origins.
The AragoScope leverages diffraction around an opaque disc to focus light sans lenses or mirrors, bypassing thermal and saturation issues. Historical validation (Arago, 1818) and modern analogs (e.g., Fresnel zone plates in X-ray microscopy) support its viability. ASO proposes an inflatable balloon disc, scalable in vacuum, to achieve sub-meter resolution, unlocking a new frontier in solar observation.
The AragoScope Solar Observatory offers a transformative tool to probe the Sun’s corona at sub-meter scales, addressing foundational questions in heliophysics—coronal heating, CME triggers, SEP origins, and solar wind dynamics. Its innovative design—rooted in a 19th-century discovery, realized with 21st-century tech—overcomes classical telescope barriers, promising a leap in resolution and insight. As ancient cultures once saw the Sun alive with dragons and phoenixes, ASO might reveal the corona’s secrets in exquisite detail, whether as pure physics or, improbably, echoes of their mythic vision. We propose NASA fund this mission to illuminate the Sun’s edge and its role in our cosmic neighborhood.
The Sun’s chromosphere and corona—its outermost layers—present some of the most enigmatic phenomena in stellar physics, from the unexplained temperature inversion (20,000°C in the chromosphere, millions in the corona, versus 5,500°C at the photosphere) to the 11-year sunspot cycle and coronal mass ejections (CMEs). Yet, resolving these features at sub-meter scales remains beyond the reach of contemporary and classical telescopes, constrained by thermal overload, optical saturation, and atmospheric distortion. This article examines these limitations and proposes a novel solution: a space-based AragoScope leveraging diffraction to achieve unprecedented resolution of the solar corona.
Classical telescopes, whether ground-based refractors or reflectors, face insurmountable hurdles when aimed at the Sun. The photosphere emits ~63 MW/m², overwhelming photon detectors like CCDs or CMOS sensors, which saturate at ~10⁻⁵ W. Neutral density filters reducing light by 99.9% mitigate this, but thermal heating of optical elements introduces infrared emission, blurring images. Ground-based instruments, such as the 4-meter Daniel K. Inouye Solar Telescope (DKIST), employ adaptive optics and narrowband filters (e.g., H-alpha at 656 nm) to achieve a diffraction-limited resolution of ~0.02 arcseconds (~15 km on the Sun at 1 AU). However, atmospheric turbulence caps practical resolution, and sub-meter detail—necessary to dissect fine coronal structures—remains elusive.
Space-based telescopes, like the Hubble Space Telescope (2.4m mirror, 0.1 arcsecond resolution) or James Webb Space Telescope (6.5m, infrared-optimized), avoid atmospheric distortion but are ill-suited for solar observation. Direct solar exposure would vaporize detectors, and even with filters, radiative heating induces thermal noise. The Solar Dynamics Observatory (SDO) and similar probes use small apertures (e.g., 0.13m) and extreme UV/X-ray channels (e.g., 171 Å), resolving ~1 arcsecond (~725 km), far too coarse for sub-meter analysis. Filters in vacuum heat up without convection, emitting IR and degrading precision. Classical optics, whether terrestrial or orbital, thus falter against the Sun’s intensity and the corona’s faint, dynamic edge.
A space-based AragoScope offers a radical departure, exploiting the Arago/Poisson Spot—a phenomenon discovered in 1818 by François Arago. When light diffracts around a circular opaque disc, constructive interference forms a bright spot in the shadow’s center, focusing light without lenses or mirrors. Unlike classical telescopes, an AragoScope avoids heat-absorbing optics, using a lightweight, opaque barrier to block the photosphere while diffracting coronal light to a distant detector.
Design Concept:
Consider an inflatable balloon—aluminized Mylar or Kapton, deployable in space’s vacuum—as the opaque disc. Positioned 0.5M km from the Sun (where the solar disc subtends ~2 degrees), a 1 km diameter balloon partially occults the photosphere, but a 17.5 km balloon fully blocks its 1.39M km diameter. A detector array, stationed 57,000 km behind, lies within the shadow (~17.5 km wide), shielded from direct light. The Arago Spot focuses coronal emissions (e.g., 171 Å UV from Fe IX lines) onto superconducting nanowire single-photon detectors (SNSPDs), cryocooled to suppress thermal noise.
Resolution Potential:
Diffraction limit is θ = 1.22 * λ / D. For λ = 171 Å (17.1 nm) and D = 17.5 km, θ ~ 1.2 * 10⁻⁹ arcseconds. At 0.5M km from the Sun (1 arcsecond ~ 362 m), this yields ~0.0004 m (~0.4 mm)—millimeter precision. A 1 km balloon achieves ~0.007 arcseconds (~2.5 m); pairing it with a 10m conventional mirror at the detector, using adaptive optics or interferometry, refines this to ~0.1-1 m—sub-meter resolution within reach of current technology.
Feasibility:
Historical precedents exist—NASA’s Echo balloons (1960s) spanned 40m; modern composites scale to kilometers. A 17.5 km balloon (~24 tons at 0.1 kg/m²) is launchable in segments via heavy-lift rockets (e.g., SpaceX Starship). Station-keeping at 0.5M km and 57,000 km alignments leverage existing orbital mechanics (e.g., L2-derived trajectories). SNSPDs, proven in X-ray astronomy, handle coronal wavelengths. Thermal management—minimal gas for inflation, vacuum insulation—mitigates IR emission, making sub-meter imaging plausible.
Unlike classical telescopes, the AragoScope avoids photon overload by blocking the photosphere entirely, focusing only the corona’s edge. No refractive or reflective elements heat up; diffraction sidesteps thermal blur. Scalability—balloons inflating to 1-17.5 km—far exceeds practical mirror sizes (DKIST’s 4m, JWST’s 6.5m), boosting resolution without mass penalties. At 0.1-1 m, coronal loops (~10-100 km wide), sunspot magnetic structures (~150 km), and CME origins (~1000 km) resolve into fine detail, potentially clarifying the chromosphere-corona temperature anomaly and cyclic dynamics.
Deploying an AragoScope could revolutionize solar physics, offering sub-meter views of plasma flows, magnetic reconnection events, and CME triggers—key to understanding solar weather and stellar evolution. Yet, its gaze evokes ancient echoes. Cultures like the Egyptians (Ra), Chinese (lóng), and Maya saw the Sun as alive—dragons or phoenixes in its fires. At 0.1 m resolution, might we discern patterns hinting at exotic processes—plasma entities or energy structures—thriving on the corona’s gradient? Science fiction posits life beyond carbon; ancient myths whisper of solar vitality. While likely revealing only physics, the possibility of glimpsing something akin to heliotrophs—however improbable—stirs the imagination, bridging yesterday’s wonder to tomorrow’s discovery.
The AragoScope stands as a feasible leap, turning the Sun’s edge from a blind spot into a window—whether to plasma mechanics or, just perhaps, a mythic truth reborn in pixels.
For millennia, humans have gazed at the Sun and seen more than a ball of fire. To the ancient Egyptians, it was Ra, a living god sailing the sky, breathing life into the Nile. The Chinese imagined lóng—fiery dragons—coiling in its glow, while the Maya tracked its cycles as if it pulsed with serpentine vitality. These cultures didn’t just worship the Sun; they believed it harbored life—dragons, phoenixes, beings of flame dancing at its edge. Today, science dismisses such notions—life as we know it can’t survive a million-degree inferno. But what if those ancients were onto something deeper, something we’re only now poised to glimpse with a radical new telescope?
Science tells us life thrives on boundaries—places where energy shifts from high to low. Plants soak up the Sun’s hot photons, storing them as sugar to burn in cooler air. Deep-sea bacteria feast on chemical gradients at hydrothermal vents, turning scalding sulfur into sustenance. It’s the differential—hot to cold, rich to sparse—that powers life. The Sun’s chromosphere and corona, its outer layers, are just such a boundary: a scorching frontier where fusion energy slams into the icy void of space. The chromosphere spikes to 20,000°C, the corona to millions, far hotter than the 5,500°C surface below—a mystery physics struggles to explain. Could this gradient, hostile to carbon-based life, cradle something else entirely—plasma dragons or phoenixes feeding on solar fire?
Ancient myths might hint at this. Sunspots—dark, magnetic patches cycling every 11 years—could be their feeding grounds, dimming the Sun as they gorge. Coronal mass ejections (CMEs)—billion-ton plasma blasts—might be their fiery births, scattering offspring into space. It’s a wild leap, but imagination has birthed science before: Einstein’s relativity and the Higgs boson were once untestable dreams.
Here’s the catch: we can’t just point a telescope at the Sun to check. Earth-based scopes like the Daniel K. Inouye Solar Telescope (DKIST) use filters slashing light to 0.1%, resolving details down to 15 kilometers—impressive, but coarse for spotting solar life. Space telescopes like Hubble or James Webb? They’d fry—detectors overload at 10⁻⁵ watts, and filters in space heat up, glowing infrared and blurring the view. The Sun’s glare is a photon tsunami, drowning our tech in light and heat. To see dragons or phoenixes in the corona—at the Sun’s edge, where myth meets mystery—we need sub-meter resolution, pixels sharp enough to catch a plasma wing or magnetic scale. Current tools fall short.
Step back to 1818, when François Arago proved a wild idea: block light with a circular disc, and a bright spot—the Arago Spot—forms in its shadow, thanks to diffraction bending waves around the edges. It’s counterintuitive—seeing through blockage—but it works. Now imagine a space-based AragoScope: not a heavy mirror or fragile lens, but a balloon—a lightweight, inflatable disc of aluminized Mylar, unfurling in space’s vacuum to block the Sun’s glare and focus its corona.
Here’s the vision: launch a folded balloon—say, 1 kilometer wide—half a million kilometers from the Sun, where the solar disc looms large. Inflate it with a puff of helium, and it occults the photosphere’s 1.39-million-kilometer blaze. Fifty-seven thousand kilometers behind, a detector (or a 10-meter mirror) catches the Arago Spot—diffracted light from the corona’s edge. A 1 km balloon resolves ~2.5 meters; pair it with a mirror and adaptive optics, and we hit ~0.1-1 meter—sub-meter sharpness. Scale to 17.5 km (foldable, launchable in segments), and we’re at ~0.4 millimeters, zooming into plasma details finer than a dragon’s claw.
No melting filters, no fried detectors—just a shadow bending light to reveal the Sun’s fiery rim. Sunspots could resolve as feeding lairs, CMEs as phoenix births—life or physics, captured in crisp pixels.
Ancient cultures saw the Sun’s edge as alive—Ra’s breath, lóng’s coils, Mayan serpents. Religions cast it as divine—Hindu Garuda soaring in coronal loops, Christian seraphim blazing in CMEs. Science fiction, from Dune’s desert worms to Star Trek’s energy beings, imagines life beyond carbon. An Arago Balloon Scope could bridge these—0.1-meter pixels might show magnetic “dragons” pulsing with sunspots, “phoenixes” flaring in eruptions, their heat a sign of something thriving on the solar gradient.
Buildable today? Close. Mylar balloons flew in the ’60s (NASA’s Echo); modern composites scale up. Superconducting detectors catch UV and X-rays; rockets like Starship haul the payload. It’s a stretch—17.5 km balloons and 57,000 km orbits push limits—but not beyond reason. Deploy one, and we’d see the corona’s edge like never before—perhaps proving it’s just plasma and fields, or maybe, just maybe, spotting heliotrophs echoing ancient tales.
The ancients didn’t need telescopes to feel the Sun’s life. Science demands evidence, but imagination lights the way—as it did for relativity and the Higgs. An Arago Balloon Scope could be our next leap, peering through shadow to image the corona at sub-meter scale. Dragons and phoenixes might await—or just the next great puzzle. Either way, the Sun’s edge beckons, and we’re closer than ever to answering its call.
The US have deployed two B52H bombers to the Middle East. Their configuration / payload has not been detailed but each B52H bomber can carry up to 20 AGM-86B cruise missiles with up to 150kt each and 8 B83 gravity bombs with 1.2Mt each providing a total nuclear firepower of up to 25.2Mt.
Let's play Wargames and ask WOPR to calculate what the US could do with that kind of nuclear firepower:
Allocation Strategy:
Impact Estimation:
Gaza:
Yemen:
Lebanon:
Syria:
Combined Total Impact Across All Countries:
Immediate Deaths:
Severe Injuries: Likely several million across all countries, with exact numbers hard to predict but potentially doubling or tripling the immediate death toll in terms of those needing urgent medical care.
Total Deaths Including Lack of Treatment:
This scenario assumes a highly strategic and devastating use of nuclear weapons aimed at maximizing human and infrastructural damage, with consequences extending far beyond the immediate blast effects due to societal collapse. These figures are speculative, and actual outcomes would depend on numerous variables including the exact targeting, population distribution, and response capabilities.
Stopping the unprecedented genocide of killing, starvation, destruction and displacement, in addition to exchanging prisoners and hostages and rebuilding Gaza is of course long overdue and something that every human being rejoices about.
But I do not hear any serious talk about specific steps to end an occupation that has lasted more than half a century or about establishing a Palestinian state. What we hear is merely "dispersing councils" that contradicts what is happening on the ground from the continuation of the occupation and the expansion of settlements...
Not linking the end of the fighting in Gaza to reaching a just and permanent solution to the Palestinian issue - the root of the disease - would be an unforgivable strategic mistake and another missed opportunity... As the saying goes, "As if you, Abu Zaid, had never fought"...
My final judgement on #Android: It's the worst piece of crap that ever made it through a compiler. Useless for anything but making bucks by selling '90s style games to people who are bored on their way to / from work.
17 Rabbis Arrested for Running a Criminal Network Harvesting Organs from Living People for Sale A Rabbi Sold Kidneys for Over a Decade Palestinians Are Suffering the Same Fate. The State Admitted It. This Is Not a Theory...... https://x.com/Danielkalombo/status/1871234940458967115
17 Rabbis Arrested for Running a Criminal Network Harvesting Organs from Living People for Sale
A Rabbi Sold Kidneys for Over a Decade
Palestinians Are Suffering the Same Fate. The State Admitted It. This Is Not a Theory...... https://x.com/Danielkalombo/status/1871234940458967115