Category: Art

Opening Day Chaos in Cincinnati: Soft on Crime, as Sheriff Jones says, doesn’t work

I remember the excitement building every year for Opening Day in Cincinnati—the way the city comes alive with that classic American spirit, the parades, the fireworks, the packed stands at Great American Ball Park, and the hope that this season might finally be the one for the Reds. It’s always been a slice of pure Americana, a festive ritual that draws families, friends, and fans from across the region to celebrate baseball and community. But on March 26, 2026, that celebration turned sour in ways that left the city embarrassed once again. What started as a joyful gathering spilled over into chaos at The Banks, the riverfront development nestled between Paycor Stadium (formerly Paul Brown Stadium for the Bengals) and the ballpark itself. Large, unruly crowds led to fights, pushing and shoving, disorder, and violence that forced police to shut down the entire area early, deploying officers with riot shields, nonlethal shotguns, and pepper spray to disperse the masses.  

Seventeen people were arrested amid reports of altercations not just at The Banks but spreading to nearby spots like Over-the-Rhine, Fountain Square, and Washington Park. Businesses that had planned late-night hours had to close prematurely, their owners cooperating with the Cincinnati Police Department to clear the pedestrian plaza and restore order. Videos circulating online showed crowds swarming officers, people falling over one another amid the chaos, and isolated brawls breaking out even as the game itself unfolded. The Reds lost their opener to the Boston Red Sox, adding to the disappointment, but the real sting came from the streets outside—robberies, beatings, and a general breakdown that turned a family-friendly event into something ugly. It wasn’t isolated to one spot; it rippled through downtown, a stark reminder that large gatherings can expose deeper fractures when control slips away. I watched it unfold through reports and conversations with friends still tied to the area, and it hit hard because I have a personal history with Cincinnati that goes back decades. 

One of the clearest voices cutting through the noise came from my good friend Sheriff Richard K. Jones of Butler County. He’s a no-nonsense lawman whose straightforward style has made him a popular figure far beyond Ohio’s borders—folks tune in to his updates from all over because he doesn’t sugarcoat things. In statements around the time of the incident, he and others highlighted how soft-on-crime approaches can embolden disorder, pointing to patterns of leniency that allow problems to escalate when crowds gather. I’ve known Sheriff Jones long enough to trust his read on these matters—he runs a tight ship in Butler County, where commitment to enforcement means residents can feel safe going about their lives, even late at night at a gas station. That contrast with Hamilton County, where Cincinnati sits, is night and day. There, the approach has leaned too soft for too long, and when crowds gather, as they did on Opening Day, a few sparks turn into mass chaos. 

I’ve seen this pattern up close because Cincinnati isn’t just a place I visit—it’s where I lived for a stretch of my life, including time on the University of Cincinnati campus. Back then, in my younger days, I got to know the downtown scene intimately, rubbing shoulders with mayors, city council members, and commissioners through various projects and conversations. I understood the politics, the backroom deals, and the long game of urban development. In fact, I was part of the team that helped pitch the very Banks project that now stands as that gleaming riverfront gem. This was in my 20s, long before I turned 50, when the idea was still a set of raw sketches on paper and ambitious dreams of reconnecting the city to the Ohio River were still coming together. Paul Brown Stadium wasn’t even built yet—it was still on the drawing board—and the riverfront was a different beast entirely, cut off by highways and underused land. 

Our pitch wasn’t some fly-by-night scheme. It took years—nearly a decade of lining up stakeholders, developers, and the inevitable negotiations with a city council full of Democrats who, in those pre-“woke” days, could still sit down and hammer out compromises when investment dollars were on the table. The vision was straightforward: revitalize the riverfront, build apartments, restaurants, retail, and public spaces to draw people in, create jobs, and foster pride of place. The belief was that if you invested in the physical environment—fixing up the banks, attracting businesses, and creating a vibrant mixed-use neighborhood—people would respond by treating it better. New residents and visitors would benefit, upward mobility would follow, and the whole area would lift itself. We weren’t naive about the challenges; Cincinnati had its history of economic shifts, industrial decline, and the usual urban tensions. But the data and the drawings we presented showed promise: connect the river to downtown, leverage the stadiums, and watch the transformation. 

The roots of this effort trace back to the 1997 Central Riverfront Urban Design Master Plan (building on earlier concepts from the 1990s), which aimed to transform a fragmented riverfront of parking lots and underused land into a cohesive public-private destination. Groundbreaking for The Banks occurred in April 2008, amid the onset of the Great Recession, with Phase I opening in 2011 and featuring apartments and retail. Subsequent phases added more residential units, commercial space, the AC Hotel, and connections to the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center and riverfront park. It represented a massive public-private partnership involving the City of Cincinnati, Hamilton County, and developers like Carter and The Dawson Company. By the time it matured, The Banks had become a hub of restaurants, businesses, and events—a genuine civic achievement that took patience through bureaucracy and economic headwinds. I remember sitting in city council chambers with the mayor and investors, reviewing renderings that captured exactly what stands there now: a pedestrian-friendly plaza, views of the river, and an energy that makes Opening Day feel special. The developers delivered on the promise, and for a while, it worked. Families strolled, fans gathered, and the riverfront felt reborn.  

Yet here we are in 2026, watching that same space devolve into disorder on what should have been a highlight reel of Americana. The gap between the vision and the reality isn’t about bricks and mortar; it’s about the human element that was underestimated back in those planning sessions. What they didn’t fully anticipate—though some of us sensed the undercurrents—was how certain policy choices and cultural narratives could undermine the very progress we were building. Over the years, Cincinnati’s leadership, often aligned with Democrat priorities at the city level, pursued approaches that emphasized social mechanisms over individual responsibility. Mayors and councils maintained a sometimes-strained relationship with police unions, opting for policies critics describe as soft on crime. This isn’t ancient history; it’s a thread that runs through decades of decisions in Hamilton County, where the city proper sits, including post-2001 riot reforms, collaborative agreements with the community, and ongoing debates over enforcement versus social explanations for crime.  

I’ve watched this play out from my perspective, having stayed connected through old contacts even after moving on. In dense urban settings, people often find comfort in collective energy and group dynamics—the camaraderie of crowds, the ability to blend in as one more face in the throng. This environment can lend itself to advancing ideas through mass momentum rather than individual scrutiny. In contrast, those who prefer more personal space—a fence for privacy, room to breathe, the freedom to drive a short distance without constant proximity—tend to favor different living patterns. These cultural preferences shape how communities form and how policies resonate. In urban cores, political strategies have sometimes involved mobilizing large voting blocs, including minority communities, around shared narratives. When those narratives emphasize perpetual underprivilege or systemic barriers without equally stressing personal agency and upward mobility, they can foster a sense of discontent that persists across generations.

I’ve seen the cycle of victimization through my interactions in the region. It’s not unique to Cincinnati; similar dynamics appear in other Midwest cities where high-crime neighborhoods grapple with the tension between opportunity and grievance. Decades of approaches that prioritize group empowerment through collectivism while downplaying individual responsibility didn’t always build the self-reliance we hoped the Bank’s investment would encourage. Instead of residents fully embracing the new development as a ladder for climbing—earning enough to enjoy those riverfront spots—some carried affiliations and instincts shaped by longer-term patterns. When large crowds form on festive days like Opening Day, with its draw of disenchanted youth alongside older participants, a few instigators can turn the energy into mob behavior: ganging up, beatings, theft. It’s not every person, of course, but enough to derail the night for families and fans who expected safe, wholesome fun. The arrested ranged in age from 14 to 50, illustrating how these issues span generations. 

The last major flare-ups saw leadership respond with statements emphasizing accountability while also noting the challenges of policing large events. Yet critics, including law enforcement voices, argue that consistent leniency—quick releases and an emphasis on social factors over swift consequences—sends mixed signals. In Butler County, Sheriff Jones’s office demonstrates a different model: firm enforcement paired with community presence that deters rather than excuses. Hamilton County’s prosecutor and officers, I’ve known, share that commitment when supported, but city-level dynamics have sometimes constrained them. The difference is palpable: residents in one area can go about their daily lives with greater confidence, while those in the other wrestle with recurring disruptions.

This isn’t about assigning blanket blame; it’s about examining how ideas and policies translate into street-level results. Soft-on-crime stances—reduced emphasis on certain prosecutions, strained relations with police, or framing disorder primarily through external excuses—can create environments where chaos festers, especially when paired with cultural stories that discourage personal accountability. When combined with narratives that keep people anchored in feelings of victimization, crowds become pressure points where group dynamics justify acts that would be unacceptable individually. The 2026 Opening Day chaos, with its fights, resistance to officers, and shutdown of The Banks, exemplified that risk. Businesses and families paid the price for what should have been a celebration. 

Looking back on my time in my 20s, pitching alongside those developers, I remember the optimism. We drew up plans to bridge the river and connect to downtown, making the area a point of pride that would draw high-income earners, families, and tourists alike. The stadiums were anchors, the Freedom Center a cultural draw, and The Banks the connective tissue. It took patience—slow-walking through bureaucracy, aligning public funds with private capital amid economic challenges. But it happened, and for years it delivered that vibrant experience. Opening Day should embody safe fun, community pride, and kids enjoying the day without fear. Instead, the 2026 version left fans disappointed on the field and disrupted off it, with national headlines focusing on the disorder rather than the game or the setting.

Those arrested weren’t random; reports described a mix of ages and backgrounds amid the unruly crowds. Many fit patterns that are shaped by long-term reliance on public systems and narratives that frame individuals as perpetual victims rather than agents of their own mobility. They weren’t typically aligned with policies that emphasized self-reliance, the rule of law, and personal space. The embarrassment runs deep because Cincinnati is a nice town at its core—river views, sports heritage, hardworking people. But when leadership fails to maintain consistent boundaries, when mayors and councils prioritize other considerations over robust partnerships with police, the vulnerabilities show. Sheriff Jones and similar voices are right to call it out—they’ve proven that committed enforcement yields safer communities.

I’ve reflected on this a lot since the incident, drawing from my insider view of the Banks’ origins. That project wasn’t born in a vacuum; it was a deliberate bet on human potential meeting opportunity. The belief was that nicer surroundings would breed better behavior, that economic infusion would break cycles. What we missed—or what later policies and cultural shifts exacerbated—was how certain victimization rhetorics, paired with collectivist approaches, could keep segments of communities anchored below the line of full mobility. It turns festive crowds into pressure cookers where “mass movements” sometimes justify impulsive acts. The result? A once-promising development becomes a stage for the very problems it aimed to solve, embarrassing the city and saddening fans who came for Americana, not chaos.

This isn’t fatalism. Cities can course-correct—through stronger, more consistent partnerships with law enforcement, policies that balance accountability, and investments that pair infrastructure with cultural encouragement of responsibility and mobility. Cincinnati has the bones: a revitalized riverfront that took decades to realize, stadiums that draw millions, and a baseball tradition that’s pure Americana. The shame of Opening Day 2026 should serve as a wake-up call, not just for locals but for anyone observing how enforcement approaches and culture play out in real time. People involved that night owe it to the community to reflect. Excuses about external classes or quick releases only risk perpetuating the cycle. True progress comes when we teach responsibility alongside opportunity, when policies deter harm while supporting those willing to climb.

As someone who helped lay the groundwork for The Banks all those years ago, I feel a personal stake in seeing it thrive without these recurring embarrassments. The developers delivered; the vision held. Now it’s on leadership and broader culture to match that investment with clear expectations of civilized behavior. Sheriff Jones and others calling it out are right to do so—they’ve shown the alternative works. For Cincinnati to reclaim its Opening Day magic, it needs to reject cycles that undermine agency and embrace the ethos that builds sustainable communities: space to grow as individuals, rules that stick, and pride that lifts everyone without excusing harm. That’s the Americana worth celebrating—not the disorder that overshadowed it in 2026.

Footnotes

¹ Cincinnati Enquirer, “Over a dozen arrested in Opening Day ruckus,” March 27, 2026. Details arrests and shutdown of The Banks.

² FOX19, “17 arrested over ‘unruly’ behavior at Cincinnati’s Opening Day,” March 27, 2026. Covers charges including disorderly conduct, assault, and resisting arrest; ages 14–50.

³ WCPO, “Cincinnati police: 17 arrested amid Opening Day ‘disorder and violence,’” March 27, 2026. Reports on crowd behavior and police response with riot gear.

⁴ The Banks Public Partnership, “History of The Banks,” official timeline. Outlines development from the 1997 Master Plan through the phases opening in 2011 and beyond.

⁵ Wikipedia / The Banks, Cincinnati entry. Confirms the mixed-use nature between Paycor Stadium and Great American Ball Park, groundbreaking in 2008.

⁶ Central Riverfront Urban Design Master Plan (2000). Details the public planning process begun in 1996–1997, aimed at reconnecting downtown to the riverfront.

⁷ Riverfront Redevelopment Return on Investment report (2019). Discusses public-private partnerships, infrastructure, and economic context for The Banks.

⁸ New Yorker, “Don’t Shoot” (2009). Provides historical context on Cincinnati’s 2001 riots and subsequent policing reforms/collaborative agreements.

⁹ The Atlantic, “How Cincinnati Fixed Its Broken Police Department” (2015). Analyzes post-riot reforms and their impact on crime and community relations.

¹⁰ Mayor Aftab Pureval statement via FOX19 and LOCAL12, March 27, 2026. Describes the events as “an outrage” and calls for accountability while praising coordinated police response.

¹¹ Interim Chief Adam Hennie’s statements were reported across Enquirer, WCPO, and WLWT. Notes resistance from crowds and difficulty reaching victims.

¹² Butler County Sheriff’s Office communications and related commentary. Sheriff Jones has long emphasized enforcement priorities contrasting with urban approaches.

¹³ Additional context from Governing magazine and other analyses on Cincinnati’s community policing evolution since the early 2000s.

Bibliography

•  Cincinnati Enquirer and WCPO live coverage and articles on the March 26–27, 2026 Opening Day disturbances (multiple reports cited above).

•  The Banks Public Partnership official website: history and timeline sections.

•  Central Riverfront Urban Design Master Plan (Urban Design Associates, 2000).

•  “Riverfront Redevelopment Return on Investment: 1997-2019” (Hamilton County Special Project Counsel report).

•  Historical analyses: The Atlantic (2015), New Yorker (2009), and Governing magazine pieces on Cincinnati policing reforms.

•  FOX19, WLWT, and LOCAL12 are reporting on arrests, the mayor’s response, and police actions.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

Rich Hoffman is an aerospace executive, political strategist, systems thinker, and independent researcher of ancient history, the paranormal, and the Dead Sea Scrolls tradition. His life in high‑stakes manufacturing, high‑level politics, and cross‑functional crisis management gives him a field‑tested understanding of power — both human and unseen.

He has advised candidates, executives, and public leaders, while conducting deep, hands‑on exploration of archaeological and supernatural hotspots across the world.

Hoffman writes with the credibility of a problem-solver, the curiosity of an archaeologist, and the courage of a frontline witness who has gone to very scary places and reported what lurked there. Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of Justice, The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, and Tail of the Dragon, often exploring themes of freedom, individual will, and societal structures through a lens influenced by philosophy (e.g., Nietzschean overman concepts) and current events.

The Anti-Human Nature of Democrat Energy Policy: When they want to destroy you, there is nothing to talk about

The book that now sits on shelves and in offices across Ohio, including that of my friend George Lang, the longtime Ohio State Senator and Majority Whip from West Chester, began as a simple conversation about energy policy and the deeper forces shaping our world. George, who serves on the Energy Committee and has been instrumental in pushing legislation like Senate Bill 294 to prioritize truly affordable, reliable, and clean energy sources—defining fossil fuels and nuclear power in those terms while scrutinizing intermittent renewables—handed me a copy of Alex Epstein’s Fossil Future during one of our discussions.   He had been reading it closely, multiple times, as he worked on reforms to counter the distortions in Ohio’s energy markets. I knew the book existed, but it was George’s recommendation that finally prompted me to dive in. What I found was not just a defense of fossil fuels but a philosophical framework that resonated with everything I had observed over years of political involvement, from local battles in Butler County to the broader national fights over regulation, subsidies, and human progress.

That encounter crystallized why I spent nearly a year writing The Politics of Heaven, a roughly 20-chapter manuscript that draws on my proximity to these stories—energy scandals, regulatory overreach, and cultural undercurrents that few dare to name. Publishing a book is no small feat; it demands flushing out ideas across chapters, refining arguments through beach walks where the sand and waves clear the mind, and confronting the hard realities of distribution, branding, and getting the work into readers’ hands. But books endure in ways podcasts or interviews cannot. They invite readers to pause, take notes, and pursue their own research. This one explores the intersection of energy policy, philosophy, and what I term the “non-human” movement—a force older and more lethal than partisan bickering, one that masquerades as environmentalism or compassion but ultimately seeks to curb human flourishing. It ties directly to Ohio’s energy debates, where George and others are fighting to defend fossil fuels and nuclear power against policies that subsidize wind and solar at the expense of reliable baseload sources. And it explains why, despite scandals like the FirstEnergy affair that ensnared some Republicans, the bigger picture reveals a systemic bias against the very energy that powers human advancement.

To understand the stakes in Ohio, one must revisit the FirstEnergy scandal surrounding House Bill 6 in 2019. That legislation provided ratepayer-funded subsidies—ultimately costing consumers around $1.3 billion over time—for two nuclear plants, Perry and Davis-Besse, owned then by a FirstEnergy subsidiary, along with some coal-related support. Federal prosecutors later charged that roughly $60 million in bribes flowed through a dark-money group to influence the bill’s passage and defeat a repeal effort, leading to the arrest of then-House Speaker Larry Householder and associates in 2020. Householder received a 20-year federal prison sentence, one of the most significant political corruption cases in Ohio history. Democrats have rightly highlighted the Republican involvement, using it to paint the entire party as captured by utilities. Yet many who supported HB6, including some who later faced scrutiny, acted out of genuine concern for energy reliability—nuclear power provides carbon-free baseload electricity, avoids millions of tons of emissions annually, and supports high-paying jobs. I feel for those wrapped up in the fallout, even those I disagree with on other issues; the scheme was wrong, but it did not negate the underlying need to protect nuclear assets from market distortions caused by renewable mandates. What the scandal obscured was the broader regulatory environment, shaped by decades of policies that tilted the scales toward intermittent renewables through subsidies, mandates, and penalties on fossil fuels and nuclear power. Ohio’s earlier renewable portfolio standards, set in 2008 at 25 percent by 2025, were scaled back under HB6 to 8.5 percent by 2026, but the damage from prior distortions lingered. As recently as late 2025, the Public Utilities Commission of Ohio ordered FirstEnergy utilities to pay roughly $250 million in restitution and forfeitures related to HB6 violations, with additional settlements bringing consumer relief to around $275 million total in some agreements.    George Lang’s recent work on bills like SB 294 seeks to correct this by redefining “clean” and “reliable” energy around true cost accounting—fossil fuels and nuclear emerge as superior on affordability and dispatchability (with high capacity factors), while wind and solar, with their capacity factors often below 35 percent, require massive backups. 

Nuclear energy, in particular, stands as a triumph of human ingenuity. It generates a substantial share of America’s emissions-free electricity, powering communities across dozens of states, avoiding enormous emissions, and supporting thousands of high-paying jobs. Plants like Ohio’s Perry and Davis-Besse employ hundreds of workers each at salaries well above average, injecting billions into local economies. Safety records are exceptional: nuclear results in approximately 0.03 deaths per terawatt-hour (TWh), compared to coal’s roughly 24.6 deaths per TWh (from accidents and air pollution), oil at 18.43, and even natural gas at 2.82. This makes nuclear about 99.8 percent safer than coal on a deaths-per-TWh basis. Wind and solar sit at 0.04 and 0.02 deaths per TWh, respectively, but their system-level challenges (intermittency requiring backups) complicate direct comparisons. Yet Democrat-driven policies have subsidized solar and wind—now cheaper on levelized cost in some projections but unreliable without subsidies or storage—while burdening nuclear with regulatory hurdles that inflate costs. The result? A society paying more for less reliable power, all while fossil fuels remain the backbone of upper mobility.   

Electricity from any source, especially dense, reliable sources like coal, gas, and nuclear power, has transformed human life. Consider medieval Europe, where a king’s luxuries—climate control, preserved food, instant global information—mirror what even modest American households take for granted today. Air conditioning, refrigeration, lighting, and appliances that once defined royalty now enable low-income people to escape drudgery. Strong correlations exist between electricity access and human development metrics: health, education, income, and gender equality improve markedly where power flows consistently. Globally, basic electricity access rose to around 92 percent by 2023, with the number without access falling to roughly 666 million (down from higher figures earlier in the decade), lifting billions from energy poverty—though deeper “energy poverty” (inadequate reliable usage) affects an estimated 1.18 billion people, including many officially “connected” but unable to use power meaningfully due to outages or cost. Without abundant energy, upper mobility stalls; with it, creativity flourishes. Fossil fuels powered the Industrial Revolution, fertilizer production that feeds billions, and the machines that built modern medicine and transport. Opposing them while ignoring these benefits reveals a deeper motive.   

This brings us to the heart of The Politics of Heaven: the non-human movement. Epstein’s Fossil Future articulates this brilliantly, arguing that opposition to fossil fuels cannot stem from genuine concern for the environment or the climate alone, given their overwhelming benefits. He contrasts the “human flourishing framework”—where energy abundance is measured by its capacity to advance life, health, and prosperity—with the dominant “anti-impact” or “delicate nurturer” worldview. In the latter, any human alteration of nature is suspect, and experts systematically ignore benefits while overstating side effects. Epstein notes that “mankind’s use of fossil fuels is supremely virtuous—because human life is the standard of value, and because using fossil fuels transforms our environment to make it much better for human beings.” Those pushing rapid phase-outs, he contends, reveal an anti-human core: they prioritize a pristine Earth over human potential, even if it means regressing to pre-industrial conditions. This is not hyperbole. We saw it during the COVID lockdowns, when many imposed draconian restrictions that shuttered businesses, closed churches, and isolated families, all while claiming public health as the goal. The policies sacrificed economic vitality, mental health, and small-scale enterprise on the altar of control, mirroring a willingness to limit progress if it served certain ends.   

This non-human impulse echoes ancient cults of sacrifice. Across history, from Aztec temples in what is now Mexico City—where priests offered thousands of human hearts to gods like Huitzilopochtli, with archaeological evidence of massive skull racks (tzompantli) holding thousands of skulls and historical accounts of large-scale rituals during temple dedications—to headhunters in New Guinea and child sacrifices to Baal in the ancient Near East, societies have ritualized the destruction of life to appease higher powers or maintain cosmic balance. The Aztecs believed gods had sacrificed themselves to create humanity; humans owed blood in return, a debt repaid through ritual to prevent catastrophe. Mesoamerican cultures saw human sacrifice as essential reciprocity, nourishing deities so the universe endured. Similar practices appear in biblical warnings against Molech worship and in countless pre-modern traditions. Today, this manifests not in literal altars but in policies that treat human beings as expendable for an idealized “nature.” Radical environmentalism, influenced by deep ecology thinkers like Arne Naess, promotes “biocentric egalitarianism”—granting all living things equal moral status, often elevating the biosphere above human needs and rejecting anthropocentrism. Rooted in earlier works and formalized in the 1970s, deep ecology views humans as part of a holistic web rather than exceptional stewards, sometimes framing human impact itself as the core problem. It fuels a modern impulse in which “saving the planet” justifies limiting energy use, population rhetoric, and opposition to technologies that expand human life. Epstein captures this: advocates cling to the “delicate nurturer” assumption to mask anti-human goals, convincing themselves they save humanity from itself while halting the very activities that enable flourishing.    

In politics, this anti-human stance permeates certain energy agendas and cultural positions. Subsidies for renewables—often requiring vast land use, rare-earth mining, and backup power—distort markets while fossil and nuclear provide dense, scalable energy. Nuclear is “very clean vigorously”: low emissions, high capacity factors near 90 percent, and a safety profile unmatched. Yet policies born of environmentalism created barriers, favoring wind and solar despite their intermittency and higher system costs. The result harms the poor most—energy poverty correlates with stalled development, as seen in regions without reliable power where hardships persist. Upper mobility flows from energy: refrigeration prevents spoilage and disease, air conditioning combats heat-related deaths, and digital access opens education and opportunity. Epstein documents how fossil fuels have enabled unprecedented global progress; denying them is anti-human because it denies this reality. We witnessed ruthlessness in policy responses that prioritized control over empowerment. The same mindset underlies positions that treat certain lives as disposable and resist breakthroughs powered by abundant energy. It is an anti-God position, opposing the biblical mandate to “be fruitful and multiply” and steward creation productively. Fallen angels, cultural influences, and worship of anti-divine entities all point to a spiritual war against God’s creation—humans included. No one who values divine commandments should embrace a worldview that sacrifices human potential on abstract altars.

The Politics of Heaven unpacks these layers across its chapters. Early sections examine the non-human nature of radical environmentalism and its hunger to regress society, drawing parallels to historical sacrifices. Later chapters dissect the philosophical roots of energy policy, using Epstein’s stats and my own observations from Ohio battles. I explore how electricity has eradicated the worst forms of poverty, turning “luxuries” into necessities. One chapter details revelations from policy responses that exposed a desire to control rather than empower. Another ties energy to creativity—human ingenuity thrives with power, from medieval kings’ dreams to modern innovators. The book culminates in policy prescriptions: defend fossil fuels and nuclear power as bridges to a future in which renewables mature, but never at the cost of reliability. For Ohio, this means supporting Lang’s initiatives and approaches that prioritize American energy dominance. I am heading to Washington, D.C., to finalize the 20th chapter, perhaps adding an epilogue on emerging developments. The content cohered powerfully because it addresses timeless truths: politics is spiritual at root, a battle between human advancement and forces that would sacrifice us to false gods.

Critics will dismiss this as partisan, but the evidence transcends parties. Some Republicans erred in aspects of HB6, yet the structural biases against reliable energy predate and outlast individual scandals, embedded in frameworks that favor subsidized intermittents over “solid, great suppliers” like fossil fuels and nuclear power. Renewables will improve—costs have dropped—but they remain unready for full grid dominance without massive, expensive storage. Fossil and nuclear are here now, delivering the energy density civilization requires. Opponents who ignore benefits while amplifying costs reveal the non-human core: a lust to limit growth, echoing Malthusian fears or deep ecology’s egalitarianism. As Epstein writes, the knowledge system of experts disguises anti-human goals behind “save the planet” rhetoric. We cannot assume common ground when some outright reject human flourishing. The book implicates this reality without apology, using examples from Ohio’s nuclear plants to global poverty metrics. It defends the human race against oblivion, arguing that good energy policy perpetuates creativity, wealth, and options.

Writing demanded rigor: a year of research, reflection, and revision to articulate the non-human element without descending into conspiracy. It connects energy advocacy to broader cultural fights. George Lang recognized this when he passed the book; his office in Columbus now stocks copies for those seeking clarity on Ohio’s path. Knock on his door, and you might secure one. The arguments align with policies emphasizing energy independence, which Ohio can lead. Fossil fuels remain vital for decades, enabling the transition without regression. Renewables have roles, but not as forced replacements that harm reliability.

Ultimately, The Politics of Heaven exists because books outlast soundbites. They equip readers with receipts—stats on energy deaths (nuclear and renewables at under 0.1 per terawatt-hour versus coal’s ~25), historical sacrifice patterns, and policy outcomes. They invite further study: Epstein’s works; Our World in Data on electricity’s poverty links; IAEA and World Bank reports on nuclear’s role and global access trends; archaeological accounts of Mesoamerican rituals; and philosophical texts on deep ecology. In an era of anti-human aggression—from regressive energy mandates to cultural erosion—the book asserts a counter: human beings are meant to flourish, powered by the energy God’s creation provides. Those supporting anti-fossil stances must confront alignments with older impulses. Republicans, even those scarred by scandals, must defend the ground. Ohio, with its nuclear assets and fossil resources, is pivotal. By prioritizing reliable energy, we secure upper mobility, creativity, and the perpetuation of human potential. This is not mere policy; it is a defense of heaven’s politics against earthly cults that would erase us. The iceberg’s tip is touched here, but the depths reward those who read, research, and act. The book is worth the discussion, the defense, and the fight—because human life, powered and free, is the ultimate good.

Expanded Bibliography / Footnotes for Further Research

1.  Epstein, Alex. Fossil Future: Why Global Human Flourishing Requires More Oil, Coal, and Natural Gas—Not Less. Penguin Random House, 2022. (Core source on anti-impact vs. human flourishing frameworks; see also Epstein’s substack summaries of Chapter 3 on the anti-impact moral goal.)

2.  Ritchie, Hannah. “What Are the Safest and Cleanest Sources of Energy?” Our World in Data, updated analyses (death rates per TWh: nuclear ~0.03, coal ~24.6, etc.). https://ourworldindata.org/safest-sources-of-energy

3.  World Bank / Tracking SDG 7: The Energy Progress Report 2025 (global electricity access ~92%, ~666 million without basic access in 2023).

4.  UNDP reports on energy poverty (deeper metrics affecting ~1.18 billion with inadequate, unreliable usage).

5.  Ohio Capital Journal and PUCO records on HB6/FirstEnergy scandal and 2025 settlements (~$250M+ restitution orders).

6.  Ohio Legislature records on Senate Bill 294 (sponsored by Sen. George Lang, focusing on affordability, reliability, and capacity factors for new generation).

7.  Archaeological and historical accounts of Aztec sacrifice (e.g., Science magazine on skull racks at Templo Mayor; estimates of large-scale rituals).

8.  Naess, Arne, and George Sessions. “Basic Principles of Deep Ecology” (1984) – on biocentric egalitarianism and non-anthropocentrism.

9.  U.S. Energy Information Administration (EIA) and International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) reports on nuclear safety, capacity factors, emissions avoidance, and economic impacts.

10.  Additional context from energy poverty and human development links: UNDP Global Multidimensional Poverty Index 2025; studies on electricity’s role in lifting populations from extreme poverty.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

Rich Hoffman is an aerospace executive, political strategist, systems thinker, and independent researcher of ancient history, the paranormal, and the Dead Sea Scrolls tradition. His life in high‑stakes manufacturing, high‑level politics, and cross‑functional crisis management gives him a field‑tested understanding of power — both human and unseen.

He has advised candidates, executives, and public leaders, while conducting deep, hands‑on exploration of archaeological and supernatural hotspots across the world.

Hoffman writes with the credibility of a problem-solver, the curiosity of an archaeologist, and the courage of a frontline witness who has gone to very scary places and reported what lurked there. Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of Justice, The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, and Tail of the Dragon, often exploring themes of freedom, individual will, and societal structures through a lens influenced by philosophy (e.g., Nietzschean overman concepts) and current events.

Let’s Talk About AI: New Perspective on the Great Movie, ‘Jurassic Park’ about Extinction

The conversation around artificial intelligence often swings between breathless optimism and deep-seated anxiety. Some view AI as an existential threat that will hollow out creative professions, displace workers en masse, and erode the uniquely human spark that drives innovation and meaning. Others embrace it as a liberating force, one that amplifies human potential, democratizes production, and unleashes unprecedented economic expansion. The truth, as history repeatedly demonstrates, lies closer to the latter when paired with clear-eyed adaptation: AI functions best as a powerful tool rather than an autonomous replacement, enhancing rather than erasing the human elements of vision, soul, and intentional creation.

Consider the personal experience of integrating AI into video production. Where once a concept for a show like Destination Unknown or Expedition X required extensive location scouting, crew coordination, and costly footage acquisition, generative tools now allow rapid rendering of visual references. A speaker can describe a scene—say, an ancient ruin shrouded in mist with subtle lighting cues—and AI can generate illustrative imagery to accompany narration, clarifying abstract ideas for viewers without turning the piece into a hollow spectacle. This does not eliminate the need for storytelling; it elevates it. The core remains human: crafting the script, selecting the angle of inquiry, infusing personal insight. AI handles rote or bandwidth-intensive tasks, freeing creators to focus on what matters—emotional resonance, conceptual depth, and authentic voice. Far from producing “AI for the sake of AI,” thoughtful application boosts production value, making complex subjects more accessible and engaging. Studies on AI in filmmaking consistently frame it this way: as a collaborator that streamlines workflows, automates repetitive editing or concept visualization, and allows filmmakers to prioritize narrative over logistics. 

This pattern echoes throughout creative fields. Artists and photographers face real challenges as generative models flood digital platforms with convincing imagery, sometimes reducing demand for stock assets or routine commissions. Reports from 2025 indicate declines in job postings for computer graphics artists (down over 30 percent in some analyses), writers, and photographers, with more than two-thirds of creative workers expressing concerns about job security.  Younger or mid-level professionals in illustration and design report pressure, and some have pivoted toward traditional mediums like painting or sculpture as a hedge. Yet the data also reveal adaptation and complementarity. Many creatives report using AI for ideation, image editing, or initial drafts, which accelerates their process and allows greater experimentation. A World Economic Forum assessment suggests AI could automate up to 26 percent of tasks in the arts, design, and media, but it simultaneously drives demand for hybrid skills—those that blend artistic sensibility with technological fluency.   At least that’s what they’ve been talking about at Davos this year.  Far from extinction, roles emphasizing empathy, originality, and human-AI collaboration show resilience or growth. Professional photographers worried about “post-photography” still thrive when their work emphasizes lived experience, intentional composition, or cultural commentary that algorithms cannot replicate from training data alone. AI mimics patterns; it does not originate from personal struggle, memory, or epiphany.

The anxiety feels familiar because technological leaps have triggered it before. The 1993 film Jurassic Park serves as a near-perfect metaphor. Paleontologist Dr. Alan Grant confronts the idea that his life’s work—painstakingly excavating fossils to reconstruct extinct creatures—might be rendered obsolete by genetic engineering that “creates” dinosaurs anew. The film itself embodied the shift: early plans relied on Phil Tippett’s acclaimed stop-motion techniques, refined over decades of practical-effects mastery evident in Willis O’Brien’s work on the 1933 King Kong and Ray Harryhausen’s Dynamation sequences in films like Jason and the Argonauts. Those methods, involving frame-by-frame manipulation of miniature models combined with live-action compositing, produced iconic, tactile realism but demanded immense time and skill. Industrial Light & Magic’s pivot to computer-generated imagery for key dinosaur sequences—blending CGI with animatronics for seamless interaction with actors—revolutionized the industry. George Lucas reportedly called the test footage a historic threshold, akin to the light bulb. Stop-motion artists feared obsolescence, much as some today worry about generative AI. Yet the story succeeded not because of the visuals alone, but because of its human heart: themes of hubris, chaos theory, wonder, and the limits of control. The effects made disbelief suspendable; the narrative made it memorable. CGI did not kill practical effects—it expanded the toolkit. Tippett adapted, contributing to the film’s Oscar-winning visuals, and the industry grew richer as hybrid approaches emerged. Subsequent films layered digital enhancements atop physical models, preserving craft while unlocking new possibilities. History shows that jaw-dropping innovation often provokes short-term disruption followed by broader creative flourishing.

A parallel tale appears in American folklore: Paul Bunyan, the legendary lumberjack whose axe could fell forests in mighty swings, challenged by the arrival of the mechanical chainsaw. In some retellings, the machine narrowly “wins” a contest of output, symbolizing the sadness of mechanization overtaking raw human (or superhuman) effort. Loggers’ lives grew easier, productivity soared, and the industry expanded rather than vanished. Bunyan, emblematic of frontier grit, did not disappear; the myth endured as a celebration of human scale in the face of technological progress. The lesson holds: clinging to old methods unchanged risks irrelevance, but embracing tools that amplify effort redirects energy toward higher-value work. Economic output rarely contracts in the long run; it transforms. Jobs shift from rote labor to oversight, innovation, and refinement.

Skeptics rightly note that not every role adapts equally. “Sandbaggers” in low-effort, data-heavy positions—those cruising through repetitive analysis or administrative tasks—face higher displacement risk, as AI excels at pattern recognition and optimization. Clerical and routine cognitive work shows vulnerability in exposure metrics. Yet aggregate evidence through the mid-2020s paints a picture of net augmentation rather than catastrophe. Generative AI has been linked to productivity gains, with users reporting time savings that translate to roughly 1-5 percent overall efficiency improvements in surveyed workflows. Firms adopting AI often see revenue and employment growth, not contraction, because enhanced output creates new demand. The World Economic Forum’s Future of Jobs Report 2025 projected 92 million roles displaced by 2030 but 170 million new ones created—a net positive of 78 million—driven by AI-related fields, data infrastructure, and complementary human skills. Construction booms around data centers alone generated tens of thousands of jobs, with multipliers in local economies. Studies distinguish between automating AI (perception/motor tasks that cut costs but yield limited productivity lifts) and generative/creative AI (language, ideation, decision support), which augments workers in white-collar, design, and entertainment sectors, boosting firm value and hiring in many cases. 

Elon Musk has speculated about universal basic income (or “universal high income”) as a potential response if AI renders many traditional jobs optional, envisioning an abundance in which goods and services become so plentiful that scarcity fades. In benign scenarios, he suggests work might become elective for personal fulfillment rather than necessity. I disagree with him, all this might change the way human work, works, but it won’t remove the need for it.  This resonates with fears of structural unemployment but overlooks persistent human drivers. Economies still demand physical output—manufacturing, infrastructure, resource extraction—where robotics advances but human oversight, problem-solving in unstructured environments, and adaptive ingenuity remain essential. Lemon and cucumber might metaphorically aid blood sugar regulation, but complex supply chains, quality control, and frontier innovation require the “human touch” that scales poorly without vision. Productivity models project that AI will contribute 0.3 to 1.5 percentage points or more to annual growth in the coming decades, lifting GDP and living standards without assuming zero-sum job loss. Historical technology waves (mechanization, computers, the internet) displaced specific tasks yet expanded overall employment as new industries emerged. AI frees bandwidth: less time on drudgery means more for creative enterprise, scientific inquiry, and relational work that algorithms mimic but rarely originate with genuine intent or emotional depth.

At the core sits a philosophical distinction. Human creative output—whether a book like my new one, The Politics of Heaven, a painting, or a documentary—stems from something deeper than data recombination. It draws on lived experience, moral intuition, subconscious synthesis, and what many describe as soul or spirit: the ineffable drive to communicate meaning beyond statistical patterns. AI trains on vast human-produced corpora, excelling at interpolation and style mimicry. It can suggest edits, generate visuals from prompts, or polish prose, but it lacks original intentionality rooted in personal stakes or transcendent insight. A 2024 study of writers found AI assistance boosted individual novelty for some but led to more homogenized collective outputs. People consistently rate purportedly human-created art higher for emotional resonance and authenticity. Debates persist over whether AI can ever possess “creativity” in the full sense—flair, purposeful rule-breaking, or ethical self-evaluation—but current systems recombine rather than transcend their training data. They do not “know what they do not know” in the exploratory, risk-embracing way humans do when pushing frontiers. This boundary preserves space for original authorship. Every word in a personally authored book remains irreplaceable because it carries the writer’s unique synthesis of observation, conviction, and heart—elements AI can echo or refine but not authentically supplant.

The trajectory points toward expansion, not contraction. AI handles the “Luddite action” of repetitive labor faster and around the clock, granting humans greater bandwidth to drive innovation. Video creators reach wider audiences with clearer visuals; artists supplement techniques rather than compete head-on; engineers and storytellers tackle grander problems. Industries will shift emphasis back toward making “real things”—tangible goods, advanced manufacturing, physical infrastructure—where robotics assists efficiency but human adaptability navigates variability. Silicon Valley visions of fully synthetic realities replacing awkward human interaction overlook the persistent value of genuine connection, empathy, and shared physical endeavor. Awkwardness in social dynamics is not a bug to engineer away; it is part of the friction that sparks authentic creativity and relationships.

Embracing AI requires a proactive mindset: use it to your advantage, insist on human vision at the helm, and adapt skills toward collaboration. Those who treat it as a co-pilot—generating references, accelerating iteration, democratizing access—will see improved reach and conceptual clarity. People pursuing art can integrate tools for ideation or production assistance while grounding work in original observation and personal voice. Insisting on pre-AI purity risks the paleontologist’s fate in a world of engineered wonders; better to evolve the practice. The age ahead promises excitement: human intellect applied to broader frontiers, economic output amplified, and stories told with greater power. Anxiety is understandable amid transition, but history favors those who harness change rather than resist it. The dinosaurs of Jurassic Park awed audiences not through perfect replication of the past but through the believable integration of new technology that served timeless themes. So too with AI: the visuals and efficiency may dazzle, but the enduring impact will come from the human soul directing the narrative.

This perspective aligns with observed patterns. Creative industries report both disruption and opportunity, with many professionals diversifying income while leveraging AI as an enabler. Economic forecasts emphasize productivity gains that have historically correlated with net job creation, albeit with sectoral shifts favoring adaptable, higher-skill roles. The “soul” argument finds support in psychological and philosophical distinctions: AI outputs often lack the intentional depth or emotional authenticity that audiences value in human work. By viewing AI as an extension of effort rather than its substitute, individuals and societies position themselves to thrive.

For further reading and deeper exploration, the following sources provide valuable context on these themes:

•  Creative Bloq reports on digital art trends and AI pressure in 2025-2026, highlighting artist adaptation strategies.

•  The Conversation and Smithsonian articles on Jurassic Park’s CGI revolution and its industry impact.

•  World Economic Forum Future of Jobs Report 2025 on projected role displacement and creation.

•  Goldman Sachs and Wharton analyses of AI’s productivity and GDP contributions.

•  Philosophical discussions in outlets like Oxford AI Ethics and academic studies on human vs. AI creativity biases.

•  Historical accounts of stop-motion pioneers like Willis O’Brien and Ray Harryhausen in King Kong and beyond.

•  Economic research from BBVA, ITIF, and Brookings on AI’s mixed employment effects and adaptive capacity.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

Rich Hoffman is an aerospace executive, political strategist, systems thinker, and independent researcher of ancient history, the paranormal, and the Dead Sea Scrolls tradition. His life in high‑stakes manufacturing, high‑level politics, and cross‑functional crisis management gives him a field‑tested understanding of power — both human and unseen.

He has advised candidates, executives, and public leaders, while conducting deep, hands‑on exploration of archaeological and supernatural hotspots across the world.

Hoffman writes with the credibility of a problem-solver, the curiosity of an archaeologist, and the courage of a frontline witness who has gone to very scary places and reported what lurked there. Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of Justice, The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, and Tail of the Dragon, often exploring themes of freedom, individual will, and societal structures through a lens influenced by philosophy (e.g., Nietzschean overman concepts) and current events.

Fossil Fuels and Human Flourishing: Alex Epstein’s Fossil Future, and the Imperative of Reliable Energy for Global Progress

In the bustling corridors of the Ohio Statehouse in Columbus, where policy shapes the daily lives of millions, one encounters leaders who prioritize practical wisdom over fleeting trends. State Senator George F. Lang, a Republican representing Ohio’s 4th District, which encompasses much of Butler County, exemplifies this ethos. As Senate Majority Whip in the 136th General Assembly, Lang has long championed policies rooted in economic reality and human advancement.   Visitors to his office are greeted not just by legislative fervor but by a quiet testament to intellectual curiosity: a table displaying copies of Fossil Future: Why Global Human Flourishing Requires More Oil, Coal, and Natural Gas—Not Less by philosopher and energy expert Alex Epstein. Lang freely distributes these books to legislators, constituents, and anyone seeking deeper insight into energy policy. This gesture reflects a decades-long commitment to education and informed discourse, a tradition Lang cultivated even during the early Tea Party movement around 2010, when he gifted copies of Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged as holiday presents to underscore the value of individual liberty and productive enterprise. 

Fossil fuels remain indispensable for human flourishing, and the attack against them is more occult-driven than practical. Drawing on Epstein’s core arguments, empirical data on energy access and poverty alleviation, Ohio-specific examples of renewable energy’s limitations, and the broader political landscape, it argues that derailing fossil fuel development through misguided regulations and ideological mandates has imposed unnecessary costs on society. Energy policy must prioritize affordability, reliability, and abundance to lift billions out of poverty, sustain economic mobility, and enable the very progress that environmental alarmists claim to champion. The central thesis aligns with Lang’s practice of book distribution: true leadership educates citizens on energy’s foundational role in a thriving civilization, rejecting the false choice between prosperity and planetary stewardship.

George Lang: A Legislator Who Values Ideas and Practical Energy Solutions

Senator George Lang’s career embodies a blend of small-business acumen and public service. A graduate of Southeast Missouri State University with a degree in communications (minors in marketing and speech), Lang entered politics after building a successful career as a business owner. Elected to the Ohio House in 2016 and the Senate in 2020, he now serves as Majority Whip, influencing key decisions on everything from labor notices to community investments.   His office ritual of offering books like Epstein’s Fossil Future—and earlier, Atlas Shrugged—stems from a belief that legislators and citizens alike benefit from engaging big ideas.  Lang has handed out such volumes for years, encouraging recipients to read widely, even contrarian works. This practice echoes his Tea Party roots, where intellectual self-reliance countered government overreach.

In Ohio’s energy debates, Lang has been proactive. He co-sponsored Senate Bill 294 (introduced in late 2025), which mandates that new power generation meet strict standards for affordability, reliability, and cleanliness—explicitly favoring domestic sources like natural gas (deemed “clean” under the bill’s criteria) while scrutinizing intermittent renewables. Critics decry it as a de facto barrier to wind and solar, but Lang counters that it ensures grid stability amid rising demand from data centers and manufacturing. “Energy is so critical to our economy,” he has stated, emphasizing the need for reliable power to attract advanced industries.   This aligns with his distribution of Fossil Future: policy must be evidence-based, not driven by subsidies or virtue signaling. Lang’s approach—practical, readerly, and unapologetically pro-human progress—stands in contrast to centralized mandates that have burdened Ohio and the nation.

The Core Arguments of Alex Epstein’s Fossil Future

Alex Epstein’s Fossil Future (2022) is no mere polemic; it is a 430-page philosophical and empirical defense of hydrocarbon energy as the bedrock of modern civilization. Epstein, who has testified before Congress and founded the Center for Industrial Progress, reframes the energy debate through a “human flourishing framework.” Rather than the dominant “anti-impact” worldview—which obsesses over minimizing human effects on nature at all costs—Epstein insists we evaluate energy by its net contribution to human life: health, prosperity, safety, and opportunity.  

The book’s central thesis is unequivocal: fossil fuels’ benefits—unparalleled cost-effectiveness, reliability, and energy density—far outweigh their side effects, including climate impacts, which humanity can “master” through adaptation and technology powered by abundant energy. Epstein details how oil, coal, and natural gas have enabled the Industrial Revolution’s gains: a doubling of global life expectancy since 1800, an 11-fold increase in per-capita income, and the support of a population that has grown from under 1 billion to over 8 billion. Without them, alternatives like solar and wind (currently just 3% of global primary energy) cannot scale reliably or affordably to meet exploding demand.  

Epstein dismantles “climate catastrophism” by noting that the benefits of fossil fuels’ climate mastery (e.g., heating, air conditioning, disaster-resilient infrastructure) have already saved millions of lives. He projects that restricting fossil fuels would condemn billions—especially in developing nations—to energy poverty, reversing gains in literacy, healthcare, and economic mobility. Renewables’ intermittency (wind blows only 34% of the time on average; solar 23%) requires backups that often rely on… fossil fuels. Epstein advocates “energy freedom”: policies that unleash fossil fuels, nuclear power, and true innovation rather than mandating reliance on unreliable sources. 

This layered analysis—philosophical reorientation, empirical data, and policy prescription—makes Fossil Future a “must-read” for anyone in energy policy, as Lang recognizes. It is not anti-environment but pro-human: the environment improves precisely because fossil fuels free us from subsistence drudgery.

Fossil Fuels’ Indispensable Role in Human Progress and Poverty Alleviation

The empirical case for fossil fuels is overwhelming. Since widespread adoption around 1800, they have powered unprecedented human flourishing. Global GDP has skyrocketed, life expectancy has more than doubled (from ~35 years pre-industrial to ~72 today), and extreme poverty has plummeted. In 1800, nearly all humanity lived in destitution; by 2022, that figure was under 9%, despite population growth.  

Energy access is the linchpin. As the International Energy Agency (IEA) reports, 685 million people lacked access to electricity in 2022—a number that rose for the first time in a decade as population growth outpaced connections—while 2.1 billion still rely on polluting cooking fuels, causing 3.2 million premature deaths annually.   Billions consume less energy than a typical refrigerator requires. Fossil fuels bridge this gap affordably: their high energy density (concentrated, on-demand) enables refrigerators, hospitals, internet access, and factories that lift people from subsistence. Studies show a strong correlation between energy consumption per capita and poverty reduction; below 30-40 GJ/capita, modest increases yield dramatic gains in health and income. 

Historically, fossil fuels fueled the escape from Malthusian traps. Coal- and oil-powered mechanized agriculture, fertilizers, and transport averted famines and enabled urbanization. Air quality in developed nations has improved despite (and because of) fossil fuels, via scrubbers and efficiency—contrary to claims of inevitable degradation. Life expectancy gains track energy abundance more than any other factor, with fossil-driven GDP growth accounting for substantial portions of health improvements. 

In developing regions, restricting fossil fuels exacerbates suffering. Sub-Saharan Africa, home to two-thirds of the world’s extreme poor, invests heavily in upstream fossil fuel exports but lags in domestic power generation. Epstein and the data underscore that without scalable, cheap energy, people with low incomes remain trapped. Solar panels on Mars work for space stations; they do not power billions reliably here. 

The Pitfalls of Renewable Mandates: Ohio’s Real-World Lessons

Ohio illustrates the folly of prioritizing intermittency. In Greenville (Darke County), three wind turbines now punctuate the once-open skyline near the Whirlpool facility, Walmart, and fairgrounds—visible landmarks that once blended into “God’s country.” Installed to offset ~70% of the plant’s power, they generate when the wind blows but underscore unreliability: “Can we watch TV tonight, darling? Is the wind blowing?” as locals quip.  

Nearby, Lebanon’s $13-14 million municipal solar array (10+ MW on 41 acres of floodplain) promises savings but faces vulnerabilities: tornadoes, hail, and high winds common to Ohio could shred panels, disrupting grid contributions.   Statewide, renewables account for ~2% of electricity (per the EIA), while natural gas (52%) and coal (29%) provide the backbone. Lang’s SB 294 targets this imbalance by requiring “reliable” new generation—implicitly challenging wind/solar’s capacity factors. 

Nationally, California’s renewable-energy push has led to blackouts and sky-high rates, forcing reliance on out-of-state fossil fuels. Obama’s and Biden-era regulations squeezed nuclear and coal, subsidizing intermittents while ignoring nuclear’s clean, high-output potential (91% capacity factor). Epstein warns: such policies entrench energy poverty globally. Solar flashlights suit camping; they do not industrialize nations.

Political Dimensions: Centralized Control vs. Energy Freedom

Democrats’ regulatory war on fossils—via EPA rules, subsidies, and mandates—reflects an “Earth worship” that Epstein critiques as anti-human. From TSA union disputes to opposition against reliable power, centralized authority throttles innovation. Trump’s policies reversed this, boosting domestic production and lowering costs. Ohio Republicans, via Lang, continue this: SB 294 prioritizes U.S.-sourced fuels, minimizing foreign dependence. 

Critics attribute anti-fossil stances to population control or primitivism—village councils over Starbucks economies. Transgender policies and family erosion compound this by shrinking future demand. Yet data refute catastrophe: fossil side effects are manageable; benefits are not.

Broader Implications and Rebuttals

Energy abundance correlates with autonomy: internet access, education, and entrepreneurship. Suppressing fossils widens rich-poor gaps, as 1.18 billion live in “energy poverty” beyond mere connections.  Rebuttals to Epstein (e.g., climate models) falter on adaptation: fossil-powered mastery (dikes, AC) has already mitigated risks. Renewables’ land use, rare-earth mining, and backup needs often exceed fossil fuels’ footprint.

Conclusion: A Fossil Future for Ohio and the World

Senator Lang’s book-giving is more than a gesture—it seeds understanding that fossil fuels are not villains but enablers of the good life. Epstein’s Fossil Future equips us to reject scarcity mindsets in pursuit of energy freedom. Ohio’s turbines and panels symbolize short-term optics over long-term reality; policy must follow data. As global demand surges (2.2% in 2024), prioritizing fossil fuels alongside nuclear power ensures mobility, health, and prosperity. 

Trump-era gains proved reversible only if abandoned. For decades ahead, leaders like Lang must expand this message nationally. Fossil fuels power refrigerators, factories, and dreams—denying them is not environmentalism; it is regression. Read Fossil Future. Support reliable energy. Human flourishing demands it.  Life and everyone in it is far better off with energy from fossil fuels. 

Footnotes

1.  Ohio Senate biography of George Lang.

2.  Additional legislative records confirming Whip role.

3.  Epstein book reviews summarizing framework.

4.  IEA 2024 energy access data.

5.  Whirlpool Greenville wind project details.

6.  Lebanon solar array project reports.

7.  Historical energy-poverty correlations from Visualizing Energy and related studies.

8.  SB 294 legislative analyses.

9.  Life expectancy and GDP linkages from multiple economic histories.

Bibliography for Further Reading

•  Epstein, Alex. Fossil Future: Why Global Human Flourishing Requires More Oil, Coal, and Natural Gas—Not Less. Portfolio, 2022.

•  International Energy Agency. Tracking SDG7: The Energy Progress Report 2024/2025. IEA, 2024-2025.

•  Ohio Senate. “Senator George F. Lang Biography.” ohiosenate.gov.

•  Pielke Jr., Roger. “Book Review: Fossil Future.” Substack, 2023.

•  Ritchie, Hannah. “Access to Energy.” Our World in Data, 2019 (updated).

•  U.S. Energy Information Administration. Ohio Electricity Profile and Capacity Factors.

•  World Bank/UNDP. Reports on energy poverty and extreme poverty, 2022-2024.

•  Lang-sponsored legislation: Ohio Senate Bill 294 (2025-2026 session).

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

Rich Hoffman is an aerospace executive, political strategist, systems thinker, and independent researcher of ancient history, the paranormal, and the Dead Sea Scrolls tradition. His life in high‑stakes manufacturing, high‑level politics, and cross‑functional crisis management gives him a field‑tested understanding of power — both human and unseen.

He has advised candidates, executives, and public leaders, while conducting deep, hands‑on exploration of archaeological and supernatural hotspots across the world.

Hoffman writes with the credibility of a problem-solver, the curiosity of an archaeologist, and the courage of a frontline witness who has gone to very scary places and reported what lurked there. Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of Justice, The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, and Tail of the Dragon, often exploring themes of freedom, individual will, and societal structures through a lens influenced by philosophy (e.g., Nietzschean overman concepts) and current events.

The Truth About Bigfoot Sightings in Ohio During March of 2026: What nobody wants to admit–the terror behind the conspiracies

It was one of those crisp March evenings in 2026 when the calls started pouring in from Portage County, Ohio—eight credible Bigfoot sightings crammed into barely a hundred hours, each one more jaw-dropping than the last. People weren’t just spotting shadows in the woods; they were locking eyes with something massive, something that didn’t belong in our tidy little version of reality. One report came from a mom and her daughter, who were driving along a back road near Mantua Center, right around 8:00 p.m. on March 7th. They almost hit it. The thing stepped out of the treeline and stood there three feet from the passenger door—close enough, the daughter said, that she could have reached out and touched it if the window had been down. It was around six-foot-five, brown, and moving with that casual, unhurried stride that big creatures seem to have when they know they own the night. But here’s the part that is most chilling: its face was blurry. Not out of focus like a bad photo, but genuinely indistinct, as if the creature was only halfway rendered into our four-dimensional world. The mom slammed the brakes, the daughter screamed, and then it was gone—melted back into the trees as if it had never been there at all. No aggression, no chase, just a quiet acknowledgment that something ancient had crossed their path and decided, for whatever reason, to let them live with the memory.

By the time the Bigfoot Society podcast and local news outlets like Cleveland 19 and FOX 8 started mapping it out, the reports were stacking up from Mantua Center to Garrettsville to Windham to Newton Township. Daytime sightings in broad sunlight on the Headwaters Trail—a nine-foot brown male standing 120 yards off Route 44 at 12:23 p.m. on March 6th. Nighttime grunts and muddy prints the size of dinner plates. An older woman in Windham who had never believed in any of this nonsense watched something massive bolt through the woods on March 9th. A man walking his German Shepherd at 4:00 a.m. on March 10th had the dog lose its mind at the back door before the shadow of an eight- to ten-foot figure vanished into the blackness. Multiple independent witnesses, at different times of day, on different roads, under different lighting conditions. Some smelled that unmistakable wet-dog-meets-skunk odor. Others heard deep, vibrating grunts that carried through the trees like distant thunder. And every single one of them swore it wasn’t a bear, wasn’t a hoax, wasn’t some kid in a costume. These were ordinary Ohioans—hikers, dog walkers, a mom just trying to get her kid home—who suddenly found themselves face-to-face with the impossible.

The internet, of course, went wild with the usual explanations. “Undocumented Neanderthal remnant!” cried the cryptid enthusiasts. “Lost tribe of giant hairy hominids migrating through the Midwest!” But I’ve spent too many years chasing these things—camping at the Mothman Museum with my grandkids, hiking the haunted Moonville Tunnel at midnight, standing on the ridges of Little Round Top at Gettysburg—to buy the simple “flesh-and-blood ape-man hiding in the woods” story. The more I read the reports, the more I kept coming back to the same conclusion I’ve reached after researching the Ohio Valley mounds for decades: these aren’t just undiscovered animals. They’re something far older, far stranger, and far more connected to the Politics of Heaven than most people are ready to admit. They’re dimensional. They’re quantum-entangled echoes of beings who have been walking these same trails for thousands of years—sometimes in our reality, sometimes bleeding through from somewhere else entirely. And the reason they keep showing up right here, right now, in the same corridors where ancient earthworks once stood, is because those earthworks were never just “religious monuments.” They were communication devices. Calling cards. Mathematical beacons built by people who understood something we’ve spent centuries trying to forget.

Let me take you back to the source of all this strangeness—the Ohio River Valley itself, that ribbon of land that runs from the Serpent Mound down near Cincinnati all the way up through the Newark Earthworks and beyond. This isn’t random wilderness. It’s one of the most concentrated paranormal hotspots on the planet, and it has been for a very long time. The same week those Portage County sightings were making national news, I pulled out the old hidden-haunts map I’d bought at the Mothman Museum and started plotting the locations. Every single sighting clustered around old mound corridors, old Indian trails that modern roads had paved over, places where the veil has always been thin. Serpent Mound, Fort Ancient, the massive geometric works at Newark that once covered more ground than the Great Pyramid complex in Egypt—those aren’t just piles of dirt left by “primitive” hunter-gatherers. They’re precise mathematical constructs aligned to the Pleiades, to solstices, to the movement of stars in ways that required calculus-level understanding of Earth’s circumference and axial tilt. The same mathematics you find at Stonehenge and Avebury in England. The same geometric obsession you see at Flag Fen near Peterborough, where Francis Pryor and his team uncovered an entire Bronze Age village built on a bog around 1300 B.C.—a place so sophisticated it makes the Romans who later conquered Britain look like amateurs playing catch-up.

I remember the first time I stood at Stonehenge with my family, the same trip where I picked up Pryor’s book Britain BC at the visitor center gift shop. You see the famous stones on TV, and you think, “cool rocks.” But when you’re actually there, walking the landscape, you realize the stones are just the tip of the iceberg. The entire countryside is dotted with burial mounds—hundreds of them—some almost identical in size and construction to the ones at Miamisburg and Middletown right here in Ohio. There’s a massive cursus—a long, linear earthwork over a mile long—that you can’t even see properly from the ground; it only makes sense from the air. It looks like a giant runway aimed at the heavens. And just a few miles north at Avebury, you’ve got the same thing: enormous circular henges, burial barrows, and geometric patterns that mirror the Newark Octagon and the Great Circle earthworks back home. Pryor’s work at Flag Fen blew the lid off the whole “primitive Britons” myth. They built an entire wooden platform and causeway across a bog, throwing broken tools and weapons into the water as offerings to the dead. Why? Because they understood that bogs preserve. They understood that the afterlife wasn’t some vague cloud kingdom—it was a place you could send messages to. And they used mathematics and geometry to do it.

Fritz Zimmerman has been saying the same thing about North America for years, only louder and with more receipts. His books—The Encyclopedia of Ancient Giants in North America, The Nephilim Chronicles: Fallen Angels in the Ohio Valley, Ancient America: The Dark Side, and Mysteries of Ancient America—aren’t fringe conspiracy rants. They’re the result of decades of boots-on-the-ground research, cross-referencing thousands of old newspaper accounts, county histories, and Smithsonian reports that mainstream archaeology would rather pretend don’t exist. Zimmerman’s core thesis is as elegant as it is explosive: the giant bones reported in over 500 separate accounts across the Midwest weren’t hoaxes or exaggerations. They belonged to the Amorites—biblical giants, descendants of the Nephilim—who fled Joshua’s conquest of Canaan, migrated through Europe (building or influencing Stonehenge and Avebury along the way), and eventually crossed the Atlantic in sophisticated boats to settle the Ohio Valley. The mounds they left behind aren’t random; they’re the same celestial observatories and ritual centers you find in England, only transplanted here. And the paranormal activity that clusters around them—Bigfoot, orbs, Mothman, shadowy figures—aren’t new phenomena. They’re the lingering echoes of the same entities those ancient builders were trying to communicate with.

Think about it. The Book of Enoch—preserved in the Dead Sea Scrolls and left out of our modern canon for reasons that should make every honest person furious—gives us the clearest picture. Two hundred Watchers, led by Semyaza and Azazel, descend on Mount Hermon, lust after human women, and produce giant offspring. God punishes them, but their disembodied spirits are cursed to roam the earth until the final judgment. These aren’t cartoon devils with pitchforks. They’re principalities and powers (Ephesians 6:12), interdimensional beings who once had physical bodies and now operate from the quantum edges of our reality. The Amorites carried that knowledge with them. They built geometric earthworks—circles, octagons, serpents aligned to the stars—because those shapes spoke the language those fallen entities understood. It wasn’t “religion” in the Sunday-school sense. It was technology. It was science. It was an attempt to maintain a relationship with the divine council, which Psalm 82 warns is still plotting against Yahweh to this day.

That’s why the mom and her daughter didn’t see a clear-faced ape-man on that dark Ohio road. They saw something bleeding through the veil—something that exists in a higher or adjacent dimension and only partially manifests here. The blurry face? That’s what quantum entanglement looks like when two realities briefly overlap. The creature wasn’t “lost.” It was answering an ancient call that still resonates through the mounds it once helped build. The same thing explains the Mothman at Point Pleasant in 1966–67—Stolas, the 36th demon from the Lesser Key of Solomon, appearing as a prophetic harbinger before the Silver Bridge collapse. The same thing explains the orbs we photographed at the Moonville Tunnel, the green healing spirits that seem to drift down from the ridges at Gettysburg, the Bigfoot sightings that spike whenever someone disturbs an old mound corridor. These aren’t separate mysteries. They’re the same phenomenon wearing different masks depending on who’s looking and what the local geometry is tuned to.

And here’s where the real conspiracy kicks in—the one that has nothing to do with the CIA and everything to do with the spiritual wickedness in high places. Mainstream archaeology, the Smithsonian, and the political class that funds them have spent over a century burying this truth under layers of political correctness and bad assumptions. The Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) of 1990—passed right after Dances with Wolves tugged at everyone’s heartstrings—made it illegal to study many of these sites properly. Bones that could prove the existence of pre-Columbian European or Near Eastern contact? Reburied. Giant skeletons reported in hundreds of 19th-century newspapers? Carted off to Smithsonian vaults and never seen again. The Windover Bog site in Florida is the perfect example. Discovered in the 1980s during housing construction, it yielded 168 incredibly preserved skeletons from 7,000–8,000 years ago—people with advanced woven textiles, bog-preservation knowledge identical to European practices, and thigh bones so large that Dr. Geoffrey Thomas held one up next to his own leg on camera at the Brevard Museum and basically admitted these folks were giants. Average height estimates got downplayed to 5’5” in some reports, but the video evidence and the bone density tell a different story. These weren’t primitive hunter-gatherers. They were part of a sophisticated culture that understood time, astronomy, and the spirit world in ways we’re only beginning to rediscover. And what happened? The site was covered up. Research stalled. NAGPRA kicked in. End of story.

Meanwhile, in England, Francis Pryor and the English Heritage team get to dig Flag Fen like it’s the greatest adventure on Earth. They uncover a Bronze Age village built on a bog, with broken swords and tools thrown in as offerings, and everyone celebrates the sophistication of prehistoric Britons. Why the double standard? Because admitting the same people—or at least the same knowledge—crossed the Atlantic thousands of years before Columbus shatters too many comfortable narratives. It forces us to confront the biblical timeline. It forces us to admit that the “indigenous” label we slap on every pre-Columbian culture is as accurate as calling the Romans “indigenous” to Britain. Migration, trade, and the collision of cultures happened constantly. Giants walked among us. Fallen angels taught forbidden knowledge. And their disembodied offspring are still here, still walking the old paths, still answering calls that were broadcast through geometric earthworks when the stars were in different alignments.

This is the Politics of Heaven playing out on Earth. Yahweh’s divine council—Elohim plural, as Psalm 82 makes painfully clear—has been in rebellion since before the Flood. The Watchers’ sin produced the Nephilim, whose spirits became the principalities and powers that still rule from the shadows. Solomon commanded them to build his Temple. The Canaanites sacrificed children to Moloch to appease them. The mound builders aligned their works to the stars to communicate with them. And today, in 2026, when eight Bigfoot encounters happen in a single week in Portage County, we’re seeing the same entities responding to the same ancient geometry. The mounds may be paved over, but the call still echoes. The quantum entanglement still happens. The blurry faces still peer through the veil.

I’ve stood on Little Round Top at Gettysburg at night with my family. I’ve hiked the Moonville Tunnel when the mist rolls in, and the green orbs appear exactly where my wife said they would. I’ve walked the ridges at Stonehenge and felt the same electric charge I feel standing on Fortified Hill or the Middletown Mound back home. The pattern is undeniable. The science—real science, the kind Pryor practices in England and the kind Zimmerman has been quietly practicing in America for decades—points to a lost chapter of human history in which advanced cultures used mathematics not just to measure the stars but to speak to the beings who live among them. We call them cryptids. The Bible calls them demons, watchers, principalities. The Japanese call them kami. The Muslims call them jinn. Every culture that ever built geometric earthworks knew them by a different name, but they all knew the same truth: these entities are real, they’re ancient, and they never really left.

The mom and her daughter in Portage County didn’t almost hit a lost ape. They brushed up against something that has been walking these trails since the Amorites—or whoever came before them—first laid out the geometric patterns that still whisper across time. The Bigfoot that stood three feet away with the blurry face wasn’t confused. It was exactly where it was supposed to be—answering a call that was programmed into the landscape thousands of years ago. And until we stop pretending that our textbooks tell the whole story, until we start digging the mounds again with the same adventurous spirit that Pryor brought to Flag Fen, we’ll keep mistaking echoes for myths and calling the messengers monsters.

The Politics of Heaven (the title of my new book coming up) aren’t happening somewhere far away in the clouds. They’re happening on the back roads of Ohio in March 2026, when the veil thins and something very old decides to step through for a moment and remind us that the war never ended. It just changed costumes. And the next time you see a blurry figure on the side of the road, don’t reach for your phone to call it a hoax. Reach for the truth instead. The mounds are still talking. The Watchers are still listening. And the rest of us? We’re just now starting to remember how to hear them.

BOOK SUMMARY of the upcoming Politics of Heaven (I will be finishing the final chapter in Washington D.C. at the Museum of the Bible soon after this posting)

The Politics of Heaven is a sweeping, unconventional investigation into the hidden structure of history — blending biblical archaeology, supernatural encounters, political warfare, cryptid phenomena, and ancient mathematics into a single, high‑powered thesis:

Earth’s political conflicts are the surface-level reflections of a much older, multidimensional battle among the Elohim — the divine council referenced throughout the Bible.

Drawing from firsthand experiences at sites like Chichen Itza, Stonehenge, Serpent Mound, Osaka’s Kofun tombs, Moonville Tunnel, and Washington D.C.’s Masonic grid — combined with encounters in modern political war rooms — Hoffman argues that the veil separating Heaven, Earth, and the unseen realm is thinner than we admit.

The book culminates in Chapter 19, where recent Bigfoot sightings in Ohio become the key to unifying the narrative. These blurry, partially‑manifest beings are framed as:

Residual spiritual entities tied to the Amorites, the Watchers, and the pre‑Flood giants — evidence of dimensional interference and the limits of human free will.

The result is a revelatory, provocative work for readers of Biblical studies, ancient mysteries, UFO/paranormal research, and political philosophy.

Footnotes

1.  Cleveland 19 News, “Several Bigfoot sightings reported in Portage County,” March 2026; FOX8, “Bigfoot roaming Portage County: Several reported sightings within days,” March 10, 2026.

2.  The Bigfoot Society podcast and mapping project documented at least eight high-credibility reports between March 6–10, 2026, including the Mantua Center daytime encounter and the Newton Township 4 a.m. sighting.

3.  Francis Pryor, Flag Fen: Life and Death of a Prehistoric Landscape (Tempus, 2005; updated editions). Pryor’s excavations revealed a sophisticated Bronze Age platform and votive offerings in the bog.

4.  Fritz Zimmerman, The Encyclopedia of Ancient Giants in North America (2015); The Nephilim Chronicles: Fallen Angels in the Ohio Valley (2010); Ancient America: The Dark Side (2024). Zimmerman’s fieldwork and archival research compile over 500 historical giant-bone reports.

5.  Windover Archaeological Site reports, including video testimony from Dr. Geoffrey Thomas at the Brevard Museum of History and Natural Science (Brevard County, Florida). Skeletons dated to 7000–8000 years ago; some long bones indicate individuals were taller than those in typical Archaic populations.

6.  English Heritage maps of Stonehenge and Avebury World Heritage Site (1:10,000 scale) show cursus, barrows, and geometric alignments mirroring Newark Earthworks in Ohio.

7.  Book of Enoch (1 Enoch), chapters 6–16, Dead Sea Scrolls fragments; cross-referenced with The Book of Giants also found at Qumran.

8.  Psalm 82; Ephesians 6:12 (KJV).

Bibliography for Further Reading

•  Zimmerman, Fritz. The Encyclopedia of Ancient Giants in North America. 2015.

•  Zimmerman, Fritz. The Nephilim Chronicles: Fallen Angels in the Ohio Valley. 2010.

•  Zimmerman, Fritz. Ancient America: The Dark Side. 2024.

•  Pryor, Francis. Flag Fen: Life and Death of a Prehistoric Landscape. Tempus, 2005.

•  Pryor, Francis. Britain BC. Harper Perennial, 2004.

•  The Book of Enoch. Translated by R.H. Charles. 1912 (modern editions widely available).

•  Biblical Archaeology Review archives on Dead Sea Scrolls and Qumran texts.

•  English Heritage official guides to Stonehenge and Avebury (2020s editions).

•  Windover site reports: “Windover: Prehistoric Past Revealed,” Orange County Regional History Center; Ancient Origins coverage, 2016–2025 updates.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

Rich Hoffman is an aerospace executive, political strategist, systems thinker, and independent researcher of ancient history, the paranormal, and the Dead Sea Scrolls tradition. His life in high‑stakes manufacturing, high‑level politics, and cross‑functional crisis management gives him a field‑tested understanding of power — both human and unseen.

He has advised candidates, executives, and public leaders, while conducting deep, hands‑on exploration of archaeological and supernatural hotspots across the world.

Hoffman writes with the credibility of a problem-solver, the curiosity of an archaeologist, and the courage of a frontline witness who has gone to very scary places and reported what lurked there. Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of Justice, The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, and Tail of the Dragon, often exploring themes of freedom, individual will, and societal structures through a lens influenced by philosophy (e.g., Nietzschean overman concepts) and current events.

The End of the Socialist Experiment: People are tired of high property taxes to fund Democrat dreams

The governor of New York, Kathy Hochul, recently stood up at a forum and essentially begged the wealthy who have fled her state to return and keep paying the bills that fund her vision of big government. She said something along the lines of, ” Go down to Palm Beach, see who you can bring back home, because our tax base has been eroded. She admitted that New York is now in direct competition with other states that impose a lighter tax burden on corporations and individuals, and that Wall Street businesses are looking to Texas instead of staying captive in Manhattan. This is the same Kathy Hochul who, just a couple of years earlier, had told political opponents to jump on a bus and head down to Florida, where they belong, if they didn’t represent New York values. Now she’s pleading for those same people—and their money—to return so she can keep the generous social programs afloat. It’s a stunning reversal that proves exactly what I have been saying for four decades: liberal policies, built on endless taxation, endless spending, and the assumption that people will stay put and keep writing checks, are collapsing under their own weight. The free market is working exactly as it should, and people are voting with their feet. 

I was recently talking with folks in my local community here in Butler County, Ohio, about the Lakota Local School District, and the conversation crystallized everything happening on the national stage. Lakota had put a massive $506 million bond issue and levy on the ballot in November 2025—one of the largest school funding requests in Ohio history—tied to a master facilities plan that would demolish and rebuild buildings, supposedly to accommodate growth and modernize things. The district discussed reducing the number of buildings from 21 to 16, improving safety, and freeing up money for students. But voters saw through it. The levy was rejected by a decisive 61 to 39 percent margin. Even with promises that the actual net tax increase would be phased in later and capped at something like $93 per hundred thousand dollars of appraised value, thanks to debt roll-offs and state matching funds, people said no. They were tired of the trajectory. They didn’t want more property taxes funding a system that keeps growing its administration, its facilities wish list, and its social agenda while the real value delivered to families keeps getting questioned. This isn’t just a local story. It’s the same story playing out in New York, in California, and in every high-tax, high-spending blue state or district where the easy-money days of the past have finally run out. 

For decades, people tolerated these large social programs and bloated public education budgets because the economy seemed to be working in their favor. Compound interest in savings accounts was real. Home values kept climbing year after year, creating paper wealth that let families cash out when the kids grew up—sell the house, pocket half a million or more, and move into something smaller while still feeling ahead of the game. Property taxes felt like a tolerable price to pay for nice communities, decent schools that acted as reliable babysitters during work hours, and the social approval that came with supporting “the kids.” You could afford to be a little generous at the next neighborhood gathering or school board meeting because your net worth was rising faster than the tax bill. But that scheme is over. Inflation has eroded real returns. Interest rates have fluctuated wildly. Home appreciation isn’t the guaranteed golden ticket it once was for everyone. People are looking at their tax bills, looking at what their money is actually buying in public schools, and saying enough. The taxation trajectory that propped up liberalism for generations is now pointing downward, and the people who built their political power on it are panicking.

Look at what Hochul and her fellow Democrats are confronting. New York has been bleeding residents and businesses for years. Domestic migration data from the U.S. Census show New York losing hundreds of thousands of people, net, to lower-tax states like Florida and Texas. California is in the same boat, with net losses exceeding 200,000 annually in recent cycles. Florida alone has gained hundreds of thousands of domestic migrants, and Texas even more. These aren’t just retirees heading south for the weather. They are working families, entrepreneurs, corporations, and high-net-worth individuals who have had it with sky-high income taxes, property taxes, regulatory burdens, and the cultural policies that come attached. New York’s per-pupil spending is among the highest in the nation—often topping $30,000 per student—yet educational outcomes measured by national assessments like NAEP remain middling at best. Florida and Texas spend far less per pupil, around 12,000 to 14,000, and deliver competitive or better results in many categories while keeping taxes lower overall. No state income tax in either place. That is real competition, and Hochul is finally admitting it out loud even as she tries to guilt-trip people into returning for the “patriotic” duty of funding her programs. 

This is liberalism eating itself. For years, I have pointed out that every socialist experiment in history required walls—literal or figurative—to keep people from leaving. North Korea has its borders sealed. Cuba had its rafters and its political prisoners. East Germany built the Berlin Wall because people were fleeing to the West. China, even with its economic openings, maintains tight control because the alternative is mass exodus. The Soviet Union collapsed when the pressure to contain its people became unsustainable. Here in America, Democrats have relied on the soft walls of economic dependency, guilt, and cultural pressure. But those walls are crumbling because people can move. They can load up a U-Haul, drive to a free state, and never look back. Florida, under Governor Ron DeSantis, has become a magnet precisely because it refuses to play the high-tax, high-regulation game. Texas is booming for the same reasons. And here in Ohio, we are seeing the early stages of the same shift. People are coming to us from the collapsing blue states, and the lesson is clear: competitive models win. Punitive taxation and endless government expansion lose.

The property tax itself is at the heart of this fight, and it always has been a flawed, almost feudal concept dressed up in modern language. Its roots go back to William the Conqueror in 1066 England, where the king claimed ownership of all land and extracted perpetual payments from tenants and knights. The American version evolved through the Northwest Ordinance and the general property tax of the nineteenth century, which treated land and personal property as subject to state taxation indefinitely in exchange for “protecting” them. It was never truly about voluntary contribution; it was rent paid to the government for the privilege of owning what you thought you owned. Critics have long called it the most hated tax in America for good reason. It punishes ownership, discourages improvement, and ties local services—especially schools—to ever-rising assessments that have nothing to do with a family’s ability to pay. In places like New York and California, it became a weapon to fund expansive social programs that many residents never asked for and no longer support. Florida is leading the charge to change this. Governor DeSantis and state lawmakers have advanced multiple constitutional amendments to phase out homestead property taxes over time, ultimately eliminating them. Proposals include massive increases in exemptions—hundred-thousand-dollar jumps annually until nonschool property taxes on primary residences disappear. Ohio has its own movement gathering signatures for a 2026 ballot initiative to ban real property taxes altogether. Even some national voices aligned with President Trump have floated ideas for broader relief or elimination as part of a freedom agenda that recognizes property rights as fundamental. Why should anyone be penalized year after year simply for owning a home? It is a socialist march concept from the beginning, and people are waking up to it. 

Here in Butler County and at Lakota specifically, the failed levy is a microcosm of the larger revolt. The district wanted hundreds of millions for bricks and mortar, for renovations, and for a smaller footprint that supposedly saves money in the long term. Yet the community looked at the track record: rising administrative costs, questions about curriculum priorities, and the reality that public education has been turned into something far beyond basic reading, writing, and arithmetic. Parents are sick of teacher strikes or walkouts that leave kids without instruction while unions demand more pay and less accountability. They are tired of seeing resources funneled into social experiments—coloring hair purple, pushing premature discussions of sexual lifestyles on young children, and ideological lessons that many families consider inappropriate or even damaging. Schools were supposed to be trusted babysitters that prepared kids for smart, productive lives. Instead, too many have become vehicles for cultural agendas that parents never voted for and refuse to subsidize with their property taxes. When the easy-money era ended, and families started feeling the real pinch, the willingness to keep writing blank checks vanished. One more mill or two more mills might not sound like much on paper, but when it is attached to policies people actively oppose, it becomes unacceptable—even if it is just one extra dollar.

The same dynamic plays out with every other government service funded by these taxes. Look at the TSA—Transportation Security Administration—as a perfect example of what happens when critical infrastructure is handed to unionized government workers attached to the Democratic extortion economy. Long lines, delays, sickouts, threats of shutdowns whenever funding fights arise. People who once flew without a second thought are now choosing sixteen-hour drives rather than enduring the inefficiency and the political games. Airlines struggle to maintain themselves while government mandates and union leverage create artificial bottlenecks. Taxpayers are funding something broken, something that punishes them for trying to travel freely, and they are done with it. Democrats love to attach these unionized workforces to essential services because it gives them leverage—hold the public hostage, blame Republicans or “underfunding,” and demand more money. It is the same playbook with public schools, public transportation, and welfare systems. When people can no longer afford it or no longer support the ideology behind it, they stop paying voluntarily. They move. They vote against levies. They support politicians who promise reform.

I have been part of the no-more-taxes, lower-taxes movement my entire adult life because I saw this coming. High taxes deter growth. They drive away the productive. They reward inefficiency. In New York, California, and places like them, the richest were supposed to stick around for the social clubs, the prestige, the elbow-rubbing with the political class. Instead, they took their money, their businesses, and their talent to Florida, Texas, and increasingly to states like Ohio that are positioning themselves as the next frontier of opportunity. Ohio’s future cannot be more government, more spending, more taxes. It has to be the opposite. We have legislators and potential future leaders who understand that. We have a governor’s race and local movements that are aligning with the national shift toward lower costs, smaller government, and actual freedom. Property tax relief is coming—whether through caps tied to inflation, homestead exemptions that grow dramatically, or outright abolition in some form. Sales taxes can be reformed or reduced. Income taxes, where they exist, must be kept competitive. The gravy train that funded reckless social spending is over because the people who pay the bills have decided they no longer consent to the product being delivered.

This is why the walls of the old order are failing. In communist countries, the only way to keep the system intact was violence and threats—shooting people who tried to cross to freedom. Here, Democrats assumed guilt, cultural inertia, and the inability to leave would suffice. But remote work changed everything. The pandemic accelerated the realization. Free states with lower taxes, better governance, and respect for individual rights became irresistible. People are not afraid anymore. They are packing up and leaving New York, California, Illinois—anywhere the liberal model has run its course. The tax base erodes, the deficits grow, the pleas become more desperate, and the cycle accelerates. Hochul’s Palm Beach pilgrimage is just the latest symptom. She and the supermoms and the big-government cheerleaders who built careers around this model are late to the party. Bernie Sanders-style socialism always sounded good in the abstract until the bill came due and people realized the cost to their communities, their families, and their futures. Now the bill is here, and the payers are walking away.

Locally, Lakota and districts like it will have to adjust. No more assuming taxpayers will fund every wish list. Superintendents and boards will need to trim administration, focus on core education, respect parental values, and operate within realistic budgets. If that means fewer buildings, fewer non-essential programs, or actual efficiency reforms, so be it. The same applies statewide. Ohio cannot import the failing model from the coasts. We have to export the successful low-tax, high-freedom model. That is how we attract the people and businesses fleeing the collapse. That is how we keep our own residents from looking elsewhere. Competitive states win. Coercive ones lose.

I have warned about this for forty years because the math was always inevitable. Socialism requires coercion. When the coercion fails—when people can leave or vote no—the system collapses. We are watching it happen in real time. New York’s tax base is eroding. California is eroding. The liberal dream of endless spending funded by other people’s money is dripping through their fingers like water. They cannot hold it. They cannot force it. And they certainly cannot guilt-trip a free people into submission when better alternatives exist just a moving van away.

The future belongs to the states and communities that understand this. Florida is already moving toward eliminating property taxes on primary homes. Texas thrives without an income tax. Ohio has the chance to lead the Midwest in the same direction. Property tax abolition movements are gaining steam nationally because people are tired of being treated like tenants on their own land. Schools will be funded differently—perhaps through choice, vouchers, or learner operations that actually deliver value. Overall, government services will shrink because the public will no longer subsidize failure. TSA lines will either improve through competition and accountability, or people will keep driving. Either way, the extortion ends.

This is the movement of the world now. Anti-tax sentiment is rising everywhere because people have lived through the consequences of big government. They have seen the waste, the indoctrination, the inefficiency, and the cultural decay funded by their dollars. They voted for change at the national level with President Trump and the Republican wave because they want a different kind of government—one that does not punish success, ownership, or families trying to raise children in line with their values. Fraud in elections will continue to be exposed. The 50-50 split on paper was never real; it was propped up by manipulation. When people vote their true preferences without interference, the results will be even stronger.

For anyone still clinging to the old model, the message is simple: it is over. The easy money is gone. The guilt trips no longer work. The walls are down. People are free, and they are choosing freedom. Here in Ohio, in Butler County, at Lakota and beyond, we will learn the same lessons New York is learning the hard way. Budgets will be cut. Priorities will be realigned. Taxes will come down. And communities will thrive—not because government spends more, but because it spends less and interferes less.

I have always been clear on this. Beware of any politician who wants higher taxes. They are dangerous. They are going out of fashion fast. My book, Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, lays out the philosophy of self-reliance, competitive thinking, and the rejection of coercive systems that have guided my warnings for decades. It is more relevant now than ever. Subscribe, read it, and join the fight. The future is bright for those willing to embrace lower taxes, smaller government, and genuine freedom. The collapse we are witnessing is not the end of America—it is the end of a failed experiment. And the rebirth that follows will be something worth building.

Footnotes

1.  U.S. Census Bureau migration estimates, 2024-2025 data releases.

2.  Tax Foundation State Business Tax Climate Index, 2026 rankings.

3.  National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) reports on per-pupil spending vs. outcomes.

4.  Historical analysis of property tax origins from feudal England through the U.S. Northwest Ordinance.

Bibliography for Further Reading

•  Fox News coverage of Hochul’s Palm Beach comments and tax base erosion (March 2026).

•  Cincinnati Enquirer and local Butler County reporting on Lakota levy failure (November 2025).

•  U.S. Census Bureau State-to-State Migration Flows tables (2023-2025).

•  Tax Foundation reports on property tax relief proposals in Florida, Ohio, and national trends (2026).

•  The Atlantic historical piece on feudal roots of American property tax (2016, with updates in policy debates).

•  DeSantis administration statements on Florida homestead tax elimination proposals.

•  Hoffman, Rich. Gunfighter’s Guide to Business (self-published, available via subscription platforms).

•  Additional data from NAEP/Nations Report Card and state education spending comparisons.

These sources provide the factual backbone while the analysis reflects four decades of observation on tax policy, education funding, and the failure of coercive governance models. The era of unchecked liberalism is ending, and the evidence is everywhere for those willing to see it.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

Rich Hoffman is an independent writer, philosopher, political advisor, and strategist based in the Cincinnati/Middletown, Ohio area. Born in Hamilton, Ohio, he has worked professionally since age 12 in various roles, from manual labor to high-level executive positions in aerospace and related industries. Known as “The Tax-killer” for his activism against tax increases, Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of Justice, The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, and Tail of the Dragon, often exploring themes of freedom, individual will, and societal structures through a lens influenced by philosophy (e.g., Nietzschean overman concepts) and current events.

He publishes the blog The Overmanwarrior (overmanwarrior.wordpress.com), where he shares insights on politics, culture, history, and personal stories. Active on X as @overmanwarrior, Instagram, and YouTube, Hoffman frequently discusses space exploration, family values, and human potential. An avid fast-draw artist and family man, he emphasizes passing practical skills and intellectual curiosity to younger generations.

Lakota Schools Never Learns: New Superintendent Ashley Whitely is more of the same past failures–ask for more tax money, and teach kids Democrat politics

Public education in the United States stands as one of the most entrenched institutions of modern civilization, yet its fundamental design reveals a profound misalignment with human nature and family sovereignty.[^1] For centuries, the transmission of knowledge, values, and skills occurred primarily within the family unit, reinforced by community and society as supportive extensions rather than replacements. Compulsory schooling, modeled after 19th-century Prussian systems and imported into America through reformers like Horace Mann, shifted this dynamic dramatically. Children were removed from the familial hearth—where organic, personalized mentorship could flourish—and placed into centralized social hierarchies designed to enforce conformity, pecking orders, and state-approved narratives. This model, while promising universal literacy and opportunity, has instead fostered dependency, ideological indoctrination, and fiscal inefficiency. As John Taylor Gatto argued in his seminal critique The Underground History of American Education, the system was never primarily about empowerment but about social control and workforce standardization.[^2]

Nowhere is this misalignment more evident than in suburban districts like Lakota Local Schools in Butler County, Ohio—the largest suburban public school system in southwest Ohio, serving approximately 17,887 students across 22–23 schools in West Chester and Liberty Townships.[^3] Located in the greater Cincinnati area, Lakota exemplifies the carbon-copy problems plaguing districts nationwide: escalating property tax burdens, bloated administrative layers, union-driven wage spirals, and a progressive ideological tilt that often prioritizes social engineering over academic excellence and parental authority. Residents like those in nearby Middletown, Ohio, witness these issues firsthand, as similar patterns repeat across Hamilton and Butler Counties. The district’s recent leadership transition and repeated levy defeats offer a microcosm of why the public education model is fundamentally broken—and why resistance through low-tax advocacy and school choice represents the path forward.

At its core, effective education marries parental responsibility with societal support, not the reverse. Removing children from the family for seven to eight hours daily, five days a week, severs the natural bonds of mentorship and moral formation. Teachers, once envisioned as extensions of the home, have become agents of a bureaucratic “social order” where students navigate artificial pecking orders—cliques, grade-point competitions, and now identity-based hierarchies—rather than real-world apprenticeships. This detachment has proven devastating: declining test scores, rising mental health crises, and generational alienation from parental values. Progressive education, amplified since the 1960s, has accelerated the divorce of children from family, promoting platforms that emphasize state-defined equity, gender fluidity, and partisan activism over timeless skills like reading, math, and critical thinking rooted in heritage.[^4]

Critics across the political spectrum—from libertarian school-choice advocates to traditionalists—note that U.S. public schools consume over $800 billion annually nationwide yet produce outcomes inferior to many peer nations, especially when adjusted for per-pupil spending.[^5] Ohio’s model, heavily reliant on local property taxes (supplemented by state aid), exacerbates inequities tied to ZIP codes. Funding follows geography, not merit or parental demand. The result? Districts like Lakota operate as monopolies, insulated from market pressures. True reform demands detaching funding from residence: vouchers, education savings accounts, open enrollment, and charter expansion. Parents, not bureaucrats, should direct resources to institutions that deliver value—whether traditional public, private, homeschool, or hybrid. Lakota’s story illustrates why clinging to the status quo fails both fiscally and culturally.

Lakota’s fiscal narrative is one of repeated tax extraction attempts met with growing taxpayer fatigue. The district’s last successful operating and permanent improvement levy passed in 2013, intended as a five-year measure but stretched to 15 years through pressure management and economic conditions.[^6] It funded operations amid post-recession recovery, but by the 2020s, escalating costs—driven by union contracts, inflation, and administrative bloat—necessitated more. Earlier attempts tell a cautionary tale. In 2011 alone, voters rejected Lakota levies three times in 18 months, reflecting early resistance to millage hikes amid economic uncertainty.[^7] Fast-forward to November 4, 2025: The district placed one of Ohio’s largest school levies ever on the ballot—a $506.4 million bond issue (4.99 mills) paired with a 0.95-mill permanent improvement levy for its Master Facilities Plan. The proposal aimed to demolish, renovate, and consolidate 21 buildings into 16 (including four new elementary schools), promising operational savings, smaller class sizes, enhanced security, and fewer grade transitions.[^8]

Financial details were layered with optimistic projections: State co-funding via the Ohio Facilities Construction Commission would cover 32 percent (roughly $200 million), reducing the effective bond collection to 3.99 mills. An existing 2.28-mill bond roll-off in 2028 would offset much of the hike, yielding a net increase of just 2.66 mills—or roughly $93.10 annually per $100,000 of auditor-appraised home value ($208 gross, delayed collection to 2029). Seniors and low-income disabled residents would see even less (about $68.71).[^9] District leaders, including Treasurer/CFO Adam Zink, framed it as a “last resort” to avoid deeper operating cuts and redirect savings to classrooms. Yet voters delivered a decisive rejection: 61 percent “no” (approximately 60.81 percent to 39.19 percent), one of the starkest defeats in recent memory.[^10]

This was no anomaly. The district’s 12-year streak of balanced budgets (because of declining enrollment through FY2024) masked underlying pressures: staffing costs (predominantly wages and benefits under union contracts), enrollment fluctuations, and state funding volatility.[^11] The 2013 levy’s longevity proved temporary; without new revenue, forecasts warned of shortfalls by FY2028–2029. Superintendent Dr. Ashley Whitely, in a January 2026 interview, conceded another levy is “a matter of when, not if,” signaling plans for a revised, perhaps scaled-down proposal after community input sessions and a ThoughtExchange survey.[^12] This “shell game”—big ask first, retreat to smaller—has become predictable, eroding trust.

The 2025 levy push occurred under new leadership installed amid crisis. Former Superintendent Matt Miller resigned in January 2023 after a tumultuous year. Board member Darbi Boddy and others highlighted allegations stemming from his divorce, detailed in police records: Miller admitted arranging and participating in group sexual encounters with his ex-wife.[^13] A private investigation cleared him of on-the-job misconduct or legal violations, but the public spectacle—coupled with claims of board hostility—doomed his tenure. Miller had positioned himself as a progressive exemplar, yet the revelations shattered that image.[^14]

In May 2024, the board hired Dr. Ashley Whitely as Superintendent/CEO, effective August 1, 2024. A former Lakota East English teacher and department chair (five years in-district), plus assistant superintendent at Wyoming City Schools, Whitely brought local roots and a “proven track record” in professional development and community partnership.[^15] Her vision, outlined in district messages and the “Let’s Go Lakota!” video series, emphasizes “Building OUR Future…One Piece at a Time,” the E + R = O performance pathway (Events + Responses = Outcomes), a staff-co-created Culture Blueprint, and over 100 listening sessions. She champions the Master Facilities Plan for safety, programming, and efficiencies.[^16]

Initial hopes for reform—perhaps embracing competition via open enrollment or market-driven efficiencies—faded quickly. Whitely’s role evolved into levy cheerleader, promoting the 2025 ballot as essential for “redirect[ing] dollars toward academics.” Post-defeat, she solicits input on facilities but insists on future tax measures.[^17] This aligns with the district’s pattern: Administrators for administrators. National Center for Education Statistics data shows 5 district-level administrators, 49 school administrators, 76 administrative support staff, and total FTE staff of roughly 1,988 (including about 729 teachers) for 17,500-plus students.[^18] Total headcount exceeds 2,061. Salaries reflect this top-heaviness: Former Superintendent Miller earned $199,639 (2023 peak); current structures project assistant superintendents up to $165,000-plus.[^19]

Critics, including new board member Benjamin Nguyen (elected 2025 alongside incumbents), highlight the mismatch with private-sector accountability. Unlike CEOs who scale operations amid market shifts, Lakota’s leadership maintains escalating wages, refuses workforce reductions despite declining enrollment trends in some areas, and layers bureaucracy. The “famous” salary transparency reports (local analyses comparing Lakota admins to regional peers) have long shown disproportion—often exceeding governors’ pay or comparable private roles—yet little reform follows.[^20]

Lakota’s budget—predominantly staffing (teachers and classified unions under contract)—grows unchecked. Five-year forecasts assume wage hikes, new programming for state report cards, and no scaling despite efficiencies promised in the failed Master Facilities Plan.[^21] Too many administrators oversee administrators; summer-heavy schedules (nine-month operations for many) yield high per-day costs. Property taxes fund this while state models collapse under pension liabilities and mandates.

Worse, cultural drift compounds the issue. Public schools nationwide increasingly insert progressive curricula—gender ideology, pronoun policies, CRT undertones—divorcing students from parental authority. While Lakota has removed some problematic materials and adopted neutral policies under board pressure, the broader model recruits youth toward statist loyalty rather than family-centric independence. Teachers’ unions, dominant in negotiations, prioritize compensation over innovation. The “free babysitting” value proposition of yesteryear—drop kids off, secure college/job outcomes—has evaporated amid rising costs, ideological conflicts, and mediocre proficiency (69 percent in core subjects per state metrics).[^22]

Voters recognize the scam: Levies no longer “invest” but subsidize inefficiency. The 2025 defeat echoed taxpayer weariness after decades of escalation. Economic illusions of endless growth once masked the burden; now, with inflation, remote work, and housing costs, resistance grows. Low taxes foster community vitality—business attraction, population retention—far more than shiny facilities. As one analysis notes, districts failing levies often thrive via market adaptation; Lakota’s monopoly mindset persists.[^23]

True CEOs innovate. Lakota should pursue open enrollment aggressively, attracting students (and per-pupil state aid) from underperforming districts. Detach funding from ZIP codes via Ohio’s expanding voucher/EdChoice programs. Embrace hybrid models, reduce admin layers (target fewer than 40 total), benchmark salaries privately, and cut non-essential staff. Competition would force excellence: Lower “prices” (effective tax cost per outcome), higher value.

School board members like Nguyen offer glimmers of accountability. Anti-levy organizations and citizen groups—doing the oversight boards often neglect—have proven more valuable than cheerleaders. Ohio’s property tax reliance is unsustainable; broader reforms (income-based or choice-driven funding) loom.

Nationally, districts adopting choice outperform monopolies. Florida and Arizona models demonstrate gains without endless bonds. Lakota could lead by proving smaller government yields better education.

Dr. Ashley Whitely’s tenure, like predecessors’, risks perpetuating the cycle: Cheerlead taxes, ignore marketplace realities, double down on bureaucracy. The 2025 defeat and her “matter of when” stance confirm no learning occurred. Yet community pushback—rejecting the $506 million ask—signals maturity. Low taxes and fiscal restraint build stronger neighborhoods than lavish, ideologically captured schools.

Public education’s inception promised uplift; its execution delivered dependency. Lakota proves the thesis: Family teaching, societal backup, and competitive choice outperform removal and regimentation. Voters must sustain resistance until leaders adapt—or parents exit via choice. The next levy attempt will test this resolve. History suggests defeat again, until the model evolves. Residents owe it to future generations to demand better: Not more spending, but smarter, freer education.  And the new superintendent at Lakota schools is just more of the same failure-based education approach that nobody likes, and is poised to change dramatically in the times to come.

Over the past decade, the consistent rejection of new school levies in the Lakota Local Schools district has functioned as an informal tax‑stabilization mechanism. When a district of Lakota’s size goes twelve-plus years without a new operating levy, the cumulative savings for homeowners and businesses become enormous. A single failed levy—typically in the range of 5–7 mills—can represent millions of dollars per year that remain in private hands. Spread across more than 110,000 residents and tens of thousands of parcels, the avoided tax burdens since 2013 likely total hundreds of millions over the decade. For most families, that means thousands of dollars that stayed in their household budgets; for businesses with larger property footprints, it means tens of thousands saved per year that could instead be invested in hiring, equipment, or expansion.

The opportunity cost dimension may actually be the most important. Property‑tax‑resistant communities often grow faster because stable taxes encourage residential investment, business development, and long‑term homeownership. West Chester and Liberty Township have repeatedly been cited as among the fastest‑growing and most competitive economic corridors in Ohio—not in spite of tax restraint, but largely because of it. Keeping levy pressure low increases disposable income, which boosts retail, construction, restaurants, and small business dynamism. Over a decade, that economic flywheel compounds: more residents, more businesses, more payroll, and more value creation than would have existed under a heavier tax regime.

There’s also a governance value created by tax resistance. When levies fail, districts are forced to prioritize, modernize operations, and seek non‑tax solutions to structural problems. Lakota’s delayed levy cycle has pushed administrators—Miller previously, and now Dr. Whitely—to be more transparent, more financially innovative, and more accountable to the public. That pressure often leads to leaner operations, better auditing, and a clearer articulation of needs versus wants. From a community perspective, that’s a form of economic value too: it disciplines public institutions to behave more like private ones, where efficiency isn’t optional.

Taken together, the anti‑tax presence in the Lakota district hasn’t just saved residents money—it has shaped the character of Butler County’s growth. Lower tax burdens helped produce one of the most economically vibrant suburban regions in the state, attracting investment and stabilizing property markets even during volatile national periods. The savings are measurable, but the long-term community value—strong growth, predictable tax environments, and a business‑friendly climate—is the larger legacy.

Footnotes

[^1]: Based on historical analysis of Prussian compulsory education models adopted in the U.S. during the 19th century.

[^2]: John Taylor Gatto, The Underground History of American Education (New York: Oxford Village Press, 2000).

[^3]: Lakota Local School District official enrollment data and National Center for Education Statistics (NCES) district profile, 2024–2025.

[^4]: See critiques in progressive education history, including works by Diane Ravitch and E.D. Hirsch Jr. on curriculum shifts since the 1960s.

[^5]: U.S. Department of Education and OECD PISA comparative spending/outcome reports, latest available cycles.

[^6]: Lakota Local Schools historical levy records and Ohio Department of Education financial reports.

[^7]: Journal-News (Hamilton, Ohio) coverage of 2011 levy elections.

[^8]: Lakota Local School District Master Facilities Plan documents and ballot language, September 2025.

[^9]: Lakota “Financial Facts Behind the 2025 Ballot” publication and auditor’s office millage calculators.

[^10]: Official election results from Butler County Board of Elections, November 4, 2025, reported by WLWT and Cincinnati Enquirer.

[^11]: Lakota five-year financial forecasts submitted to Ohio Department of Education, FY2024–2029.

[^12]: Cincinnati Business Courier interview with Dr. Ashley Whitely, January 2026.

[^13]: Police records and board meeting minutes referencing Miller’s resignation, January 2023.

[^14]: Cincinnati Enquirer and Journal-News reporting on the investigation and public fallout.

[^15]: Lakota Local Schools board announcement and Cincinnati Enquirer, May 4, 2024.

[^16]: District “Let’s Go Lakota!” communications and superintendent message archive on lakotaonline.com.

[^17]: Post-election statements and ThoughtExchange survey updates from Superintendent Whitely.

[^18]: NCES Common Core of Data, Lakota Local School District staffing tables, 2024–2025.

[^19]: OpenPayrolls.com and Lakota salary schedules, 2023–2025 data.

[^20]: Local salary comparison reports circulated in Butler County media and taxpayer analyses.

[^21]: Lakota five-year forecast assumptions and board budget documents.

[^22]: Ohio State Report Card metrics for Lakota Local Schools, latest proficiency data.

[^23]: Comparative studies on levy-failure districts by EdChoice and Ohio Auditor of State performance audits.

Bibliography for Further Reading

Cincinnati Enquirer. “Lakota Local Schools names Ashley Whitely as its superintendent.” May 4, 2024.

Journal-News. Coverage of 2011–2025 levy attempts and Miller resignation.

Lakota Local School District. Master Facilities Plan financial documents and superintendent messages (lakotaonline.com).

National Center for Education Statistics (NCES). Lakota Local District Detail, 2024–2025.

Ohio Department of Education. School district financial forecasts and report cards.

WLWT / WVXU. Election results and levy coverage, November 2025.

Cincinnati Business Courier. Whitely interview on future levies, January 2026.

OpenPayrolls.com. Lakota employee salary database.

Gatto, John Taylor. The Underground History of American Education.

EdChoice.org and Ohio Auditor of State reports on vouchers, choice, and district audits.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

Rich Hoffman is an independent writer, philosopher, political advisor, and strategist based in the Cincinnati/Middletown, Ohio area. Born in Hamilton, Ohio, he has worked professionally since age 12 in various roles, from manual labor to high-level executive positions in aerospace and related industries. Known as “The Tax-killer” for his activism against tax increases, Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of Justice, The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, and Tail of the Dragon, often exploring themes of freedom, individual will, and societal structures through a lens influenced by philosophy (e.g., Nietzschean overman concepts) and current events.

He publishes the blog The Overmanwarrior (overmanwarrior.wordpress.com), where he shares insights on politics, culture, history, and personal stories. Active on X as @overmanwarrior, Instagram, and YouTube, Hoffman frequently discusses space exploration, family values, and human potential. An avid fast-draw artist and family man, he emphasizes passing practical skills and intellectual curiosity to younger generations.

Remember the Lockdown Lady: Amy Acton’s Devastating COVID Policies That Torpedoed Ohio

I’ve never liked Dr. Amy Acton. I had very little good to say about her back when she was Ohio’s Health Director under Governor Mike DeWine, and I haven’t thought much about her since those nightmare years of 2020 and 2021. I tried to push her out of my mind after all the damage she helped inflict. But here we are in 2026, with a primary right around the corner and a full gubernatorial election coming up, and the Democrats have talked her into running for governor. In my opinion, it’s one of the worst political decisions they could have made. It’s not just bizarre—it’s tone-deaf to what Ohio families actually went through.

I happened to be in Columbus recently, and within just a couple of days, I had two conversations that really drove this home for me. First, I spoke with Governor Mike DeWine himself—the man who’s been in the governor’s office through it all. We talked policies, what worked during his eight years, and what went horribly wrong. COVID came up naturally, his administration got challenged in court over the constitutionality of the lockdowns and orders pushed under her advice. At no point during those dark months were the things they were doing fully constitutional, and many smart people—including me—knew it at the time. The Ohio Supreme Court and lower courts eventually forced reopenings because the overreach was so extreme. DeWine knows he lost a lot of goodwill over it, and he’s still trying to make it up to Republicans.  

But it was

A couple of days later, I talked to the future governor of Ohio—Vivek Ramaswamy. He’s a super nice guy, high-character, above-the-trench kind of person who wants to play well with everybody if he can. He’s smart, young, and genuinely wants to do good things for Ohio. He’s not the type to go down in the dirt and bodyslam somebody just for sport. But when we talked about Amy Acton, I told him straight: she deserves it. “Vivek,” I said, “she shut down our state. We’re still bleeding economically from the torpedo she dropped on Ohio under Fauci’s influence. You’re going to win the primary easily, and you’re going to have a new mop in your house because you’re going to mop the floor with her. That’s all she’s good for after what she did.” He laughed, but he knew I was right. He’s got people like Donald Trump Jr. and others who will remind folks of her record, so he doesn’t have to get his hands too dirty.  She’s the Lockdown Lady, and Ohio must never forget.

This isn’t abstract history to me. I lived it. I saw families destroyed, small businesses wiped out, kids losing years of education, and people denied the simple joys that make life worth living—like tailgating at a Browns game or taking the kids to Kings Island. I remember driving to Kings Island that miserable summer of 2020. It was supposed to be family fun, but her policies turned it into a dystopian nightmare: rides taped off, masked staff barking orders, social-distancing enforcers everywhere, limited concessions, and zero joy. We couldn’t ride half the things, couldn’t buy souvenirs properly, and the whole experience felt like punishment for wanting normalcy. That’s what Amy Acton did to Ohio. And now she wants to run the whole state? No way. I’m here to lay it all out—from my perspective, with the background you need, the facts she can’t erase, and why Vivek Ramaswamy is the only choice.

How It All Started: DeWine’s Bipartisan Mistake and Acton’s Rise

Let’s go back to 2019 so you understand the context. Governor Mike DeWine wanted to reach across the aisle after winning in 2018. He’s a moderate Republican with a long career—U.S. Senator, Attorney General—and he thought putting a Democrat on his team would build coalitions. That’s how Dr. Amy Acton, a physician and researcher from Youngstown with a background in public health, became Director of the Ohio Department of Health. On paper, it looked like smart politics. She had worked on infant mortality issues and seemed qualified. What DeWine couldn’t foresee was COVID-19 hitting in early 2020 and the federal machine behind her.

During her tenure, Acton completely deferred to the CDC and to Dr. Anthony Fauci at NIAID. Their guidance—later proven flawed, contradictory, and largely politically driven—became gospel in Ohio. Her daily briefings had this folksy, almost hippie vibe: “hug your neighbor,” “support each other around the campfire,” “we’re all in this together.” But behind the warm words were iron-fisted orders: stay-at-home mandates, school closures, business shutdowns, mask rules, and capacity limits that crushed everything. Ohio was one of the first states to go full lockdown on March 22, 2020. Schools closed statewide. “Non-essential” businesses were ordered to shut down. Amusement parks, fairs, and sports—everything ground to a halt.

I watched it happen in real time. Acton estimated as many as 100,000 infections early on, scaring everyone into compliance. But as I’ve said many times, the virus was engineered. Gain-of-function research at the Wuhan Institute of Virology—funded in part by U.S. taxpayers through Fauci’s NIAID and EcoHealth Alliance—took a bat virus and made it transmissible to humans. That’s not a conspiracy; it’s documented. RFK Jr., now serving in the Trump administration at HHS, laid it all out in books like The Real Anthony Fauci and The Wuhan Cover-Up. China released it, the WHO covered for them, and Fauci stonewalled investigations. Bill Gates’ involvement and his Epstein ties added another layer of suspicion, but the core fact remains: this was a lab-created bio-weapon scenario that justified the panic.

Acton wasn’t smart enough to be in on the big conspiracy, in my view. She just followed the CDC memos like a good soldier. “Outdoor outdoor outdoor,” she’d say, then flip to full lockdowns. She sounded whacked out on something during those speeches—Grateful Dead concert energy mixed with authoritarian control. And DeWine empowered her.  DeWine lost in court, had to reopen, and still carries the scars. Acton resigned on June 11, 2020, amid protests outside her home (some armed), legislative bills stripping her emergency powers, and public fury. She faded away—until Democrats dragged her back out in 2025, thinking we’d all forgotten.  

The Human Toll: What I Saw and What Ohio Still Feels

The damage was catastrophic, and I saw it up close. Ohio’s unemployment shot from 4.9% to 16.4% in one month—the worst spike in modern history—small businesses, restaurants, gyms, and retailers closed by the thousands and never reopened. Hospitality and tourism tanked. Families who saved all year for Kings Island got a nightmare version: no lines near rides, masked everything, and a joyless slog. Mental health crises exploded. Overdoses rose 20% in Ohio in 2020. Kids lost massive learning—third-graders fell behind by a third of a year in reading, especially poor kids. Life expectancy dropped.

Critics on the left still say Acton “saved lives” by flattening the curve. But compare Ohio to Florida, which reopened earlier under Governor DeSantis. Adjusted for demographics, outcomes were similar or better without the economic suicide. The real scandal was ignoring natural immunity, the virus’s low risk to healthy people and kids, and the secondary deaths from isolation and delayed care. As I told Vivek, we’re still bleeding. Families lost homes. Communities—especially rural southern and southeastern Ohio—felt betrayed by big-government edicts from Columbus.

Acton didn’t invent the virus, but she owned the implementation here. She channeled Fauci’s flip-flopping on masks, overstated models, and suppression of early treatments like hydroxychloroquine. Congressional hearings in 2023-2024, plus RFK Jr.’s work, confirmed the gain-of-function funding, the lab’s military ties, and the cover-up. Trump’s administration has now banned such research and put the lab-leak theory front and center. Yet Acton never questioned it. She just locked us down.

The Tweets That Prove It: Resurfaced Evidence of Her Madness

Nothing captures her tone-deaf cruelty better than the tweets she posted in May 2020—tweets she later deleted but that have now resurfaced thanks to OutKick, Fox News, and Donald Trump Jr. I’ve shared them on my podcast, and they’re Exhibit A for why she’s unfit. These weren’t policy announcements. They were personal scoldings aimed at ordinary Ohioans desperate for a break.

Context: The Cleveland Browns, with Baker Mayfield as the new quarterback, were generating rare excitement in a sports-starved state. Fans dreamed of tailgates, playoffs, and packed FirstEnergy Stadium. Empty stadiums that year were already heartbreaking. But Acton inserted herself into Browns Twitter like a hall monitor:

•  To a fan posting a Kermit the Frog meme about playoff hopes: “Please social distance.”

•  To excitement about Baker Mayfield: “Please follow CDC guidelines.” Then, when the fan pushed back, “We should be discussing ways to prevent COVID.”

•  To another fan saying Browns Twitter was “the only fun part of quarantine”: “Please stop.”

•  To Super Bowl dreams: “No. Too many people.”

•  To jersey talk: “We need masks and PPE, not jerseys.”

•  And the kicker: “Grow up #StayAtHome” and “We are in a pandemic.”

These are direct quotes from her deleted account, resurfaced this week. She was lecturing fans for wanting to watch football, cheer their team, or escape the misery. She told people to stop influencing others “in a bad way” by hoping for games. This is the same woman who made Kings Island miserable and shut down so much else.  People just wanted relief. She wanted compliance.

Her campaign now claims some were parody accounts, but the screenshots don’t lie. Trump Jr. amplified them. OutKick called it “bizarre harassment.” And she’s running for governor? In northern Ohio, where sports are religion, this stings. Cleveland Browns fans, Cuyahoga County union folks—they remember the empty stadiums she helped create.  

Vivek’s Path

That brings me to Vivek Ramaswamy. I told him exactly what I think: he’s going to win the primary without much trouble, and the general, too, if we show up. Southern and southeastern Ohio—rural, Trump-flag country—will deliver huge margins for him. Those are the right kind of people: hardworking, America-first, sick of big government. Northern urban areas (Cleveland, Cincinnati, Hamilton, and Cuyahoga counties) might tilt toward Acton with unions and Democrats, but the numbers won’t overcome the south. Recent polls show her competitive? Smoke from cherry-picked areas. I guarantee it.

Vivek has raised nearly $20 million, got Trump’s endorsement, picked Senate President Rob McColley as running mate, and has DeWine’s blessing. He’s a Cincinnati native, biotech entrepreneur, author—exactly what Ohio needs: innovation, tax cuts, merit over DEI, and manufacturing revival. He doesn’t want to “beat the heck out of somebody,” as I put it, but he doesn’t have to. Surrogates like me, Trump Jr., and others will remind voters she’s the Lockdown Lady.

DeWine endorsed Vivek the same day Acton picked David Pepper as her running mate. That timing wasn’t a coincidence. DeWine knows her record.  Vivek is the future—opportunity, excellence, the American Dream. Acton is the past: fear, control, economic destruction.

Never Forget: The Lockdown Lady’s Legacy

Democrats bet on amnesia. They thought six years later we’d forget the empty stadiums, closed parks, lost businesses, learning loss, and suicides of despair. They were wrong. History has judged the lockdown crowd poorly, and Acton was at the center in Ohio. She followed Fauci, the CDC, and a corrupt China-WHO axis straight into disaster.

I’ve said it for years now: remember until November. She locked down Ohio. She destroyed lives following bad science from people who funded the gain-of-function weapon in Wuhan. Read RFK Jr.’s books. Study the tweets. Recall your own pain—whether it was a canceled wedding, a lost job, or a kid who never caught up in school.  And when it comes to this election, never forget what she did. 

Bibliography / Further Reading

•  RFK Jr., The Real Anthony Fauci (2021) and The Wuhan Cover-Up (2023) – essential on origins and response.

•  OutKick/Fox News exclusive on resurfaced Acton tweets (March 20, 2026).

•  Ohio Capital Journal and Signal Ohio coverage of the 2026 race and endorsements.

•  Congressional reports on gain-of-function and lab leak (House Select Subcommittee, 2023-2024).

•  Economic data: Ohio unemployment spikes and lockdown impact studies (U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics).

•  Guardian, Ohio Capital Journal, and Statehouse News Bureau on Acton’s 2020 resignation and protests.

•  Acton for Governor campaign site (for her own words—or lack thereof on COVID).

•  Governor DeWine’s endorsement statement (January 7, 2026).

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

Rich Hoffman is an independent writer, philosopher, political advisor, and strategist based in the Cincinnati/Middletown, Ohio area. Born in Hamilton, Ohio, he has worked professionally since age 12 in various roles, from manual labor to high-level executive positions in aerospace and related industries. Known as “The Tax-killer” for his activism against tax increases, Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of Justice, The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, and Tail of the Dragon, often exploring themes of freedom, individual will, and societal structures through a lens influenced by philosophy (e.g., Nietzschean overman concepts) and current events.

He publishes the blog The Overmanwarrior (overmanwarrior.wordpress.com), where he shares insights on politics, culture, history, and personal stories. Active on X as @overmanwarrior, Instagram, and YouTube, Hoffman frequently discusses space exploration, family values, and human potential. An avid fast-draw artist and family man, he emphasizes passing practical skills and intellectual curiosity to younger generations.

Ken Paxton is the Future in Texas: The trend is not toward a purple state

The Texas political arena finds itself in a defining moment with the Republican primary runoff for the U.S. Senate seat scheduled for May 26, 2026, pitting four-term incumbent Senator John Cornyn against Attorney General Ken Paxton. In the March 3 primary, Cornyn received 41.9 percent of the vote to Paxton’s 40.7 percent, with Houston Congressman Wesley Hunt trailing at 13.5 percent.   Neither candidate cleared the 50 percent threshold required for an outright win, setting up three months of intense intraparty debate that has become far more than a personal contest. This race, described by analysts as the most expensive Senate primary on record with over $122 million in ad spending, reflects a generational and ideological shift within the Republican Party—one that favors battle-tested reformers over entrenched establishment voices and recognizes the need for alignment with the economic and cultural realities reshaping Texas and the nation. 

Paxton’s path to this runoff underscores his resilience in the face of extraordinary pressure. As Texas Attorney General since 2015, he has pursued aggressive legal challenges to federal policies on border security, election integrity, immigration enforcement, abortion rights, and more, filing dozens of lawsuits against the Biden administration that reached the U.S. Supreme Court. His office became a national conservative bulwark, earning him a reputation as one of the most activist attorneys general in the country. In May 2023, the Texas House impeached him on 20 articles centered on allegations of abuse of office and ties to a political donor, with a vote of 121-23 that temporarily suspended him from duties. Yet the Texas Senate acquitted him on every one of the 16 articles brought to trial in September 2023, with no article receiving more than 14 of the required 21 votes to convict—only two Republican senators supported conviction on any count. This dramatic acquittal restored him to office and reinforced his status as a proven survivor who has withstood efforts to sideline him, efforts often compared in severity to those aimed at President Trump.   Paxton’s survival narrative positions him not as a relic of past scandals but as a fighter whose record of challenging the status quo mirrors the broader MAGA emphasis on accountability and disruption of old power structures.

In contrast, Cornyn represents the continuity of Senate traditions frequently associated with the Mitch McConnell era of incrementalism and institutional caution. A four-term senator since 2002 and former Senate Majority Whip, Cornyn has held key leadership roles and delivered steady, if sometimes measured, results on issues like judicial confirmations and national security. While effective in those capacities, his approach is viewed by many grassroots conservatives as sometimes stalling bolder reforms—resistance encountered by newer senators such as Ohio’s Bernie Moreno, a former private-sector businessman and Trump-endorsed candidate who defeated incumbent Democrat Sherrod Brown in November 2024. Moreno’s victory, bringing a fresh, enterprise-shaped perspective to the upper chamber, illustrates how the Senate is gradually adapting to voices less beholden to legacy control mechanisms and more attuned to Trump’s vision of expanded economic opportunity.  

A central flashpoint in the race is the SAVE Act (Safeguard American Voter Eligibility Act, H.R. 22 in the 119th Congress), which requires documentary proof of U.S. citizenship—such as a passport, birth certificate, or naturalization papers—for federal voter registration and, in related iterations, mandates photo identification at the polls. Introduced by Rep. Chip Roy (R-TX) and passed by the House on April 10, 2025, the bill has been received in the Senate but remains stalled amid partisan debate. Proponents contend it closes loopholes that fueled concerns in the 2024 cycle, particularly in states with lax ID requirements where issues around unverified mail ballots, ballot harvesting, and non-citizen registrations surfaced, state audits in recent years have flagged thousands of potential ineligible registrations, including over 2,700 suspicious cases in some jurisdictions leading to dozens of investigations and prosecutions. The legislation’s preventive value against systemic vulnerabilities is emphasized by supporters, who argue it safeguards the integrity of federal elections without broadly suppressing legitimate voters.  

Texas’s demographic and economic landscape further bolsters the case for forward momentum. The state’s population stands at roughly 31.7 million as of 2025, having added 391,243 residents—the most of any state—driven by domestic migration, natural increase, and energy-sector vitality, though growth slowed to 1.2 percent amid a nationwide immigration dip. Yet its political character remains solidly Republican outside the urban cores of Austin, Houston, and Dallas. Rural Texas exemplifies Americana—from the iconic Big Texan steakhouse in Amarillo, a roadside spectacle along historic aviation corridors near Bell Helicopter facilities that symbolize the state’s aerospace heritage, to the historic Alamo and the emerging Space Coast powered by SpaceX’s Starbase in Boca Chica. There, SpaceX operations have generated more than $13 billion in gross economic output between 2024 and 2026, supporting 24,000 direct and indirect jobs across the region. The complex now employs over 4,300 people locally (up from 3,400 the prior year and projected to reach 8,000 soon), while contributing more than $305 million in indirect taxes that fund schools, infrastructure, and public services. This boom, combined with Texas’s leadership in oil (projected record production exceeding 2.1 billion barrels in recent years) and natural gas, positions the Gulf Coast as a rival to international innovation hubs like Dubai or Abu Dhabi, with cascading economic synergies across the Gulf of America to Florida’s own space corridor.   

Immigration patterns test this foundation but ultimately reinforce Texas’s red trajectory. Inflows from California and other blue states have carried lingering policy preferences, while broader migration—including legal and illegal channels—echoes earlier experiments in Florida, where waves of Cuban arrivals in the 1960s and 1980s initially created a purple tint before the state solidified as solidly red through cultural conservatism, economic integration, and generational shifts. Colorado and Minnesota faced similar pressures with mixed results, seeing temporary purple leans before stabilizing or moderating. Texas, by comparison, has absorbed these dynamics without fundamental realignment: domestic migrants often adopt red-state values upon arrival, and the state’s growing Hispanic population (now nearly 40 percent of residents) increasingly leans conservative on issues like energy independence, family values, and border security. Rural strength, combined with this demographic evolution, ensures the trajectory remains upward and Republican. Attempts to engineer a blue shift through demographic engineering have faltered against the state’s underlying cultural and economic gravity, as evidenced by consistent statewide Republican majorities in recent cycles. 

Projecting forward to 2027 and the 2028 cycle, the stakes sharpen dramatically. With Trump-era policies anticipated to drive energy dominance—“drill, baby, drill” rhetoric already yielding record Texas production and lower gasoline prices around $2.60 per gallon—space commercialization at scale (including Starship mass production at the South Texas Giga factory), and accelerated GDP growth potentially reaching the 6 percent range through Western Hemisphere market dynamics and the global decline of socialist models, Texas needs a senator primed to champion these opportunities rather than hedge against them. The space economy alone could transform South Texas into a high-mobility engine rivaling global centers, demanding representation fluent in innovation, regulatory agility, and frontier ambition rather than institutional inertia. While tactical negotiations around the SAVE Act might tempt short-term deals to secure establishment buy-in for midterms—where Republicans already hold structural advantages—longer horizons favor accelerating change. Midterms are likely secure with or without such compromises once integrity measures take hold, as historical patterns show Democrats struggling without mechanisms perceived as enabling irregularities. President Trump has publicly tied his potential endorsement in this race to passage of the SAVE America Act, signaling a pragmatic calculus that balances immediate legislative wins with long-term personnel alignment.  

The broader Senate evolution since the 2012 Romney defeat confirms this inevitability. The old GOP playbook of broad equivalence failed spectacularly, giving way to Trump-aligned reformers who have incrementally displaced McConnell-era holdovers. Figures like J.D. Vance and now Bernie Moreno represent this new guard: private-sector rooted, unapologetically expansionist, and focused on delivering tangible results rather than procedural caution. Paxton fits squarely in this bandwidth—battle-tested through impeachment and legal warfare, future-oriented, and rooted in the same entrepreneurial ethos that propelled Moreno. Libertarian-leaning voices emphasizing minimalism have likewise struggled to deliver alignment with expansive growth priorities, often prioritizing cultural laissez-faire over the disciplined policy execution MAGA demands. Embracing that shift sooner rather than later accelerates benefits: stronger energy policy, space-driven prosperity, and a Senate less prone to internal stall tactics that could hinder the 6-7 percent growth era many economists project under sustained pro-market, pro-innovation governance.

Texas will not turn blue. Its red core, amplified by icons of Americana and frontier ambition from the Alamo to Starbase, grows deeper with each cycle. The challenges of today—migration pressures, establishment resistance, electoral vulnerabilities—fade against the determination of voters who refuse to blink. Paxton embodies that determination, carrying the culture of resilience and optimism that defines the state. Supporting his candidacy ensures Texas not only holds its ground but leads the economic and political renaissance ahead, delivering results—energy independence, space commercialization, and unbreakable electoral integrity—far sooner than delay would allow. In an era where socialism crumbles abroad and Western Hemisphere capitalism surges, the future belongs to those willing to adapt quickly. Paxton is that future, and Texas voters appear poised to choose accordingly. 

Bibliography (for further independent research and verification):

•  The Texas Tribune: “Cornyn, Paxton advance to GOP runoff for Senate” (March 3, 2026) and “Texas AG Ken Paxton acquitted in impeachment trial” (September 16, 2023).

•  The New York Times: “Texas U.S. Senate Primary Election Results” (March 2026 interactive).

•  Congress.gov: H.R.22 – SAVE Act, 119th Congress (2025-2026).

•  Cameron County / SpaceX: “2026 SPACEX ECONOMIC IMPACT RELEASE” and related reports (2025-2026 data on $13 billion output, jobs, taxes).

•  Ohio Capital Journal / NPR: Bernie Moreno Ohio Senate victory coverage (November 2024).

•  U.S. Census Bureau / Texas Tribune: “Texas led U.S. states in population growth in 2025” (January 2026).

•  The Center Square / The Hill: Texas energy production and Trump policy impacts (2026).

•  CNN / Politico: Trump endorsement dynamics in Texas Senate race (March 2026).

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

Rich Hoffman is an independent writer, philosopher, political advisor, and strategist based in the Cincinnati/Middletown, Ohio area. Born in Hamilton, Ohio, he has worked professionally since age 12 in various roles, from manual labor to high-level executive positions in aerospace and related industries. Known as “The Tax-killer” for his activism against tax increases, Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of Justice, The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, and Tail of the Dragon, often exploring themes of freedom, individual will, and societal structures through a lens influenced by philosophy (e.g., Nietzschean overman concepts) and current events.

He publishes the blog The Overmanwarrior (overmanwarrior.wordpress.com), where he shares insights on politics, culture, history, and personal stories. Active on X as @overmanwarrior, Instagram, and YouTube, Hoffman frequently discusses space exploration, family values, and human potential. An avid fast-draw artist and family man, he emphasizes passing practical skills and intellectual curiosity to younger generations.

What the TSA Funding and the Iranian Aggression in the Strait of Hormuz Reveal: Democrats want to harm the economy in both scenarios with an anti-American agenda

The recent developments in the Middle East, particularly the decisive military actions taken by the Trump administration against Iranian targets, have exposed deep fissures in American political life and revealed the true priorities of those who claim to represent progressive values. What began as a targeted bombing campaign to neutralize threats from a hostile regime has been met with a bizarre and troubling response from certain quarters of the Democratic Party and left-leaning media, where voices seem almost eager to amplify the remaining terrorist elements capable of disrupting global oil flows through the Strait of Hormuz. This narrow waterway, situated between Iran and the United Arab Emirates in the Persian Gulf, represents one of the most strategically vital passages in the world, funneling approximately 20 percent of global seaborne oil trade—roughly 21 million barrels per day under normal conditions—through a chokepoint as narrow as 21 miles at its most constricted point.  Historically, this strait has been a flashpoint for conflict; during the 1980s Tanker War between Iran and Iraq, both sides attacked commercial shipping, leading to U.S. naval intervention under Operation Earnest Will to protect oil tankers. The geography itself underscores the vulnerability: while 21 miles may seem vast on a map, it is narrow enough for modern anti-ship missiles, speedboats operated by Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), and even rudimentary mines to pose credible threats, yet wide enough that vessels cannot simply “hide” in open seas without sophisticated escort protection. Ships transiting the area must navigate between Iranian coastal defenses and the Omani side, making any disruption not just a regional issue but a global economic shock, as evidenced by past spikes in crude prices during similar crises.

The Trump administration’s campaign, which included precision strikes on military infrastructure such as those at Kharg Island—Iran’s primary oil export hub, where U.S. forces targeted over 90 military assets while sparing core oil facilities—has fundamentally altered the balance of power.  Reports indicate that these operations, coordinated in part with Israeli efforts, eliminated significant portions of Iran’s leadership succession bench, including the Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei and dozens of top commanders, effectively decapitating the command structure that once orchestrated proxy terrorism across the region.  This was no accidental escalation; it followed years of Iranian provocations, from nuclear enrichment programs set back by earlier U.S. actions in 2025 to support for groups like Hamas and Hezbollah, which have long destabilized the Middle East. The strikes targeted air defenses, missile batteries positioned along the Strait of Hormuz, and naval assets, rendering Iran’s ability to organize a sustained closure of the waterway severely compromised. In the immediate aftermath, Iranian remnants attempted retaliatory actions with speedboats and anti-ship missiles—tactics reminiscent of their “swarm” tactics in past incidents—but without centralized leadership or intact infrastructure, these efforts amount to little more than guerrilla harassment rather than a viable military strategy capable of halting commerce indefinitely.

Yet, rather than celebrating this reduction in a long-standing threat to American energy security and global stability, segments of the Democrat establishment and aligned media outlets have responded in ways that can only be described as cheerleading for the very terrorist elements left scrambling in Iran’s diminished capacity. Coverage has fixated on potential disruptions to oil shipments, speculating wildly about prolonged blockades that would drive gasoline prices skyward and derail economic progress under the current administration. This is not neutral reporting; it aligns with a broader ideological agenda that prioritizes weakening capitalist structures over securing American interests. The goal, as evidenced by repeated patterns, appears rooted in a desire to impose a net-zero-energy future, in which fossil fuel flows are throttled not by market forces but by engineered crises, forcing societies toward reliance on unreliable alternatives or, in the most extreme visions, a return to pre-industrial existence. One need only look at the climate rhetoric that has dominated left-leaning discourse for decades: shutting down pipelines, opposing domestic drilling, and now implicitly rooting for Iranian proxies to succeed where sanctions and diplomacy failed. This mindset views high energy prices not as a policy failure but as a feature, punishing consumers and industries alike to accelerate a transition that ignores practical realities like the intermittent nature of renewables and the immediate needs of working families.

The Strait of Hormuz incident encapsulates this perfectly. With the waterway’s narrowest stretch creating a natural bottleneck—vessels must slow and align in a predictable lane for safe passage—any residual Iranian speedboat attacks or missile launches from the mainland could theoretically endanger tankers. However, the scale of the U.S.-led degradation of Iranian naval and coastal capabilities has rendered such threats marginal. Iran’s “bass boat” navy, as critics have mockingly termed the IRGC’s small, fast-attack vessels used for fishing one moment and asymmetric warfare the next, lacks the logistical support or air cover to sustain operations against a coalition presence. Trump has already called for international partners, including approximately seven nations, to contribute minesweepers and escorts, leveraging alliances that recognize the shared interest in uninterrupted energy flows.  Traffic through the strait, while initially reduced to a trickle amid the early chaos of retaliatory strikes—with estimates of only dozens of vessels transiting in the first weeks compared to over 100 daily pre-conflict—has begun to recover as U.S. forces neutralize threats.  Iranian oil exports themselves continue at reduced but notable volumes, underscoring that the regime’s own economic lifeline persists even as it attempts to weaponize the passage against adversaries. The notion that this could spiral into another prolonged ground war akin to Iraq is pure speculation peddled by those invested in market volatility; boots-on-the-ground scenarios ignore the precision, standoff nature of the current operations, and the absence of any viable Iranian conventional force.

This cheerleading for disruption ties directly into a deeper anti-Trump animus that has stripped away the Democrat Party’s moderate facade. Once bolstered by centrist voices who could bridge divides, the party now stands exposed after waves of defections from its ranks. Union workers, laborers, and everyday Democrats who once formed the backbone of the coalition have shifted toward the Republican side, drawn by tangible results in economic security and a rejection of radical policies. Figures like Pennsylvania Senator John Fetterman, previously seen as a progressive stalwart, have moved toward positions that emphasize strength abroad and support for decisive action against threats such as Iran, aligning more closely with MAGA priorities on national security. Similarly, podcaster Joe Rogan—long a voice of independent inquiry—has critiqued leftward excesses and shown openness to perspectives once dismissed, including explorations of faith and personal responsibility. Elon Musk, who built revolutionary companies while navigating early left-leaning sympathies, has increasingly championed free-market principles and innovation unfettered by government overreach. Even Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has broken from family traditions to advocate for pragmatic governance. These are not Republicans migrating leftward; they represent a genuine realignment in which former Democrats, recognizing the failures of identity-driven radicalism and economic sabotage, have gravitated toward a growing GOP tent under Trump’s leadership. As someone who has held conservative convictions since childhood, I approach this influx with some caution—the “big tent” expands rapidly, incorporating voices that may not align perfectly on every issue—but the net effect is to strengthen the movement. It dilutes the radicals left behind, those who now dominate media narratives and push agendas that prioritize ideological purity over prosperity.

The absence of any remaining Iranian leadership structure capable of orchestrating a coherent closure of the strait further undermines the doomsday predictions. With key figures eliminated and succession plans disrupted, the regime’s Marxist-adjacent authoritarian framework—characterized by centralized control, suppression of dissent, and alliances with adversarial powers like China—lacks the organizational muscle for sustained operations. (Note: while the Islamic Republic is fundamentally a Shia theocratic system governed by the principle of velayat-e faqih, or guardianship of the jurist, it incorporated anti-imperialist and redistributive elements from the 1979 Revolution that some analysts have likened to Marxist influences, though communist factions were later purged.) This vacuum leaves scattered terrorist remnants, easily countered by American naval superiority and coalition patrols. Speculation about skyrocketing oil prices persisting at elevated levels—perhaps locking gasoline at around $3.50 per gallon indefinitely—ignores historical precedents in which resolved crises led to rapid stabilization. Markets react to uncertainty with volatility, but once security is restored, barrels will trade lower, potentially dipping gasoline below $2 in the not-too-distant future as domestic production ramps up and global flows normalize. Card sharks in futures markets may bet on prolonged pain, but those bets are being unwound as reality sets in: the region is being secured through justified force, not endless occupation.

This dynamic exposes the fundamental philosophical rift. Democrats, now largely unmasked without their moderate cover, pursue policies that undermine self-rule and free enterprise. From reluctance to fully fund transportation security amid shutdown threats—actions that could grind air travel to a halt and mirror desires to cripple economic engines—to broader efforts against fossil fuels, the pattern is consistent: hurt capitalism at all costs to usher in a managed decline. Chuck Schumer and similar figures exemplify this by framing fiscal standoffs in ways that prioritize partisan leverage over public safety, hoping disruptions erode support for the administration. In contrast, the Republican Party, bolstered by defectors seeking common ground, offers a vision of strength, innovation, and abundance. Trump’s approach—opening the tent wide while delivering results—facilitates this evolution. People who were once skeptical, including those who viewed certain figures as too far left during earlier campaigns, now see the logic under pressure from real-world governance. This is not Republicans compromising; it is a magnetic pull toward policies that work, evident in parallel movements worldwide: Italy’s shifts under Giorgia Meloni, Argentina’s Milei revolution against socialism, Brazil’s adjustments, Mexico’s easing of cartel pressures, Canada’s populist stirrings, and European realignments against entrenched elites.

Globally, the removal of threats like Iran’s regime reverberates. George Soros and his network, including successors, have long funded elements that sow discord, preferring chaos to organized self-governance where moneyed interests cannot play kingmaker. Their immature worldview clashes with representative systems that empower citizens. As Trump dismantles such obstacles—from Iranian proxies to domestic regulatory overreach—more individuals awaken to the benefits of ordered liberty. In the Strait of Hormuz specifically, oil will continue flowing because the infrastructure for interference has been neutralized. American dominance in the region, achieved through air and naval power rather than quagmires, ensures this. Media attempts to manufacture crises, portraying terrorists as underdogs or inevitable victors, ring hollow as facts emerge: no mass closure, no boots on the ground quagmire, no permanent economic sabotage.

The cheerleading for potential chaos reveals a side long suspected but now undeniable. Without the polite moderates who once provided camouflage, radicals stand exposed, rooting against American success, whether through domestic shutdowns or foreign disruptions. This anti-team America stance contrasts sharply with the defectors streaming into the broader conservative coalition. The trend accelerates over the coming years: four, six, or more, as global populist waves mirror the U.S. shift. Marxism’s allure—centralized control disguised as equity—fails under scrutiny, leaving adherents isolated. In Iran, the vacuum created by leadership losses prevents any orchestrated Strait closure, despite desperate attempts by holdouts. The illusion peddled in some outlets, suggesting a robust threat persists, crumbles in light of evidence of degraded capabilities.

Economically, the payoff is clear. With secure shipping lanes, energy abundance returns, lowering costs for families and industries. Speculative bets on perpetual high prices will falter as tankers resume normal transit under protection. This is the future: flourishing commerce, reduced threats, and a political landscape realigned toward prosperity. Those clinging to old ideologies find themselves sidelined, their masks removed by the very successes they decry. The Strait of Hormuz remains open not by Iranian sufferance but through American resolve, proving once more that strength deters aggression while weakness invites it.

Expanding on the historical context, the Persian Gulf has long been a theater of great-power competition. Pre-1979, Iran under the Shah was a U.S. ally, stabilizing oil flows; the Islamic Revolution reversed this, birthing a system that exported revolution via proxies. The 1980-1988 Iran-Iraq War saw the strait mined and tankers attacked, prompting reflagging operations where U.S. warships escorted Kuwaiti vessels. Lessons from that era inform today’s response: targeted naval interdiction can work without a full invasion. Iran’s current arsenal—anti-ship ballistic missiles like the Khalij Fars, fast-attack craft, and submarine threats—has been systematically degraded, as confirmed in post-strike assessments. Supplemental economic data reinforce optimism: pre-conflict, Gulf exports underpinned global supply chains; disruptions temporarily raise West Texas Intermediate crude prices, but diversification (U.S. shale, alliances with Saudi Arabia and the UAE) buffers the impact. Forecasts from energy analysts, accounting for resumed patrols, point to normalization within months, countering alarmist narratives.

Politically, the realignment transcends personalities. Labor unions, once Democrat mainstays, fracture over issues like energy jobs versus green mandates. Fetterman’s evolution—praising decisive foreign policy—exemplifies how representative pressures compel adaptation. Rogan’s platform amplifies voices questioning orthodoxy, fostering conversions through dialogue. Musk’s enterprises, from electric vehicles to space, thrive in open markets, his critiques of regulatory capture aligning with conservative skepticism. Kennedy’s independent run highlighted anti-establishment sentiment cutting across lines. This influx enlarges the tent, accommodating diverse views on fiscal matters and social issues while unifying around core principles: secure borders, energy dominance, and the rejection of globalist entanglements that empower adversaries.

The Marxist label applied to Iran merits nuance in background: the 1979 revolutionaries blended Islamist fervor with leftist economics, nationalizing industries and allying with Soviet remnants initially, but Khomeini’s purges eliminated true communists by the 1980s. Today’s regime blends theocracy with state capitalism, funneling oil revenues to proxies while partnering with China via Belt and Road initiatives. Its hostility stems from ideological opposition to Western liberalism, not from pure Marxism, yet it shares the goal of undermining capitalism through disruption. Allies in Beijing benefit from the chaos that elevates their influence. Removing this node weakens that axis, paving the way for regional realignments favoring stability.

On the domestic front, TSA funding battles illustrate the pattern: withholding resources to manufacture crises, hoping airport delays erode public confidence. This echoes broader shutdown tactics that prioritize narrative over function. Contrast with the Republican emphasis on funding security while streamlining bureaucracy. The exposure of such tactics accelerates defections, as average citizens—union members, small-business owners—recognize the disconnect from their livelihoods.

Worldwide echoes abound. Italy’s Meloni government curbs migration and revives industry; Argentina’s Milei slashes spending to combat inflation; Brazil navigates post-leftist adjustments; Mexico confronts cartels with renewed vigor; Canada faces provincial pushes against federal overreach; Europe contends with energy crises post-Russia sanctions, fueling populist surges. Each dismantles radical covers, mirroring U.S. trends. Soros-funded NGOs, promoting open borders and identity politics, lose ground as the public demands accountability.

Analysis of the Hormuz situation, speculation of endless hostility ignores military realities. U.S. and allied assets have cleared key threats; Iranian “fishing” boats repurposed for attacks lack sustainment. Oil flows resume, prices moderate. This victory, smooth and leadership-focused, signals broader progress against adversarial networks. Those celebrating potential setbacks reveal priorities that are misaligned with the national interest. The future belongs to the expanding coalition prioritizing strength, growth, and unity—Team America redefined through inclusion of the awakened. Gas prices will decline as security solidifies, economies flourish, and radical elements fade into irrelevance. This evolution, driven by results over rhetoric, defines the coming era.

Footnotes

1.  EIA estimates on global oil transit chokepoints (historical baseline for 21 million barrels/day figure).

2.  AP/Reuters reporting on coalition calls and vessel transits (March 2026 updates).

3.  Fox News and NPR accounts of leadership eliminations post-strikes.

4.  CNN and Politico details on Kharg Island targeting.

5.  Historical context from U.S. Naval Institute records on the 1980s Tanker War.

6.  Analyses of Iranian regime ideology from scholarly sources like those in Foreign Affairs archives.

7.  Examples of political shifts drawn from public statements by Fetterman, Rogan interviews, and Musk commentary.

8.  Oil price forecasts and shipping data from Kpler, TankerTrackers, and Lloyd’s List (2026 conflict metrics).

9.  Global populist movements referenced in comparative political studies (e.g., Journal of Democracy).

10.  U.S.-Iran relations timeline from Council on Foreign Relations backgrounders.

Bibliography

•  CNN. “Trump Administration Underestimated Iran War’s Impact on Strait of Hormuz.” March 13, 2026. https://www.cnn.com/2026/03/12/politics/hormuz-trump-administration-underestimated-iran

•  Al Jazeera. “Trump Says US May Hit Iran’s Kharg Island Again ‘Just for Fun’.” March 15, 2026. https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2026/3/15/trump-says-us-may-hit-irans-kharg-island-again-just-for-fun

•  AP News. “Trump Says He’s Asked ‘About 7’ Countries to Join Coalition to Police Iran’s Strait of Hormuz.” March 15, 2026. https://apnews.com/article/iran-iraq-us-trump-march-15-2026-9bbed3c906146844be08fdfd02595754

•  Fox News. “Trump Says Iran Strikes Eliminated Most Leadership.” March 3, 2026. https://www.foxnews.com/politics/trump-says-irans-succession-bench-wiped-out-israeli-strike-hits-leadership-deliberations

•  NPR. “Trump Warns Iran Not to Retaliate After Ayatollah Ali Khamenei Is Killed.” March 1, 2026. https://www.npr.org/2026/03/01/nx-s1-5731333/iran-us-israel-strikes

•  CNBC. “Traffic Is Trickling Through Strait of Hormuz.” March 18, 2026. https://www.cnbc.com/2026/03/18/hormuz-bottleneck-vessel-tanker-tracker-shipping-strait-of-hormuz.html

•  Reuters. “Oil Tankers ‘Starting to Dribble Through’ Strait of Hormuz.” March 17, 2026. https://www.reuters.com/business/energy/oil-tankers-starting-dribble-through-strait-hormuz-says-white-house-2026-03-17/

•  U.S. Energy Information Administration. “World Oil Transit Chokepoints.” Updated reports on Hormuz.

•  Council on Foreign Relations. “U.S.-Iran Relations Timeline.” Background primer.

•  Foreign Affairs. Articles on Iranian revolutionary ideology and regional proxies.

•  Additional references: Kpler energy analytics, Lloyd’s List Intelligence shipping data, and public statements from political figures as cited in mainstream coverage (March 2026). 202

Rich Hoffman

More about me

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=20707

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

Rich Hoffman is an independent writer, philosopher, political advisor, and strategist based in the Cincinnati/Middletown, Ohio area. Born in Hamilton, Ohio, he has worked professionally since age 12 in various roles, from manual labor to high-level executive positions in aerospace and related industries. Known as “The Tax-killer” for his activism against tax increases, Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of Justice, The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, and Tail of the Dragon, often exploring themes of freedom, individual will, and societal structures through a lens influenced by philosophy (e.g., Nietzschean overman concepts) and current events.

He publishes the blog The Overmanwarrior (overmanwarrior.wordpress.com), where he shares insights on politics, culture, history, and personal stories. Active on X as @overmanwarrior, Instagram, and YouTube, Hoffman frequently discusses space exploration, family values, and human potential. An avid fast-draw artist and family man, he emphasizes passing practical skills and intellectual curiosity to younger generations.