What a bunch of wimps, the Republican Senate in Indiana. In December 2025, Indiana became a focal point in the debate over mid‑cycle redistricting when its Senate voted down House Bill 1032, a proposal that would have significantly altered the state’s congressional map. The final tally—31 against and 19 in favor—reflected a notable split within the Republican supermajority, as twenty‑one GOP senators joined all ten Democrats to reject the measure after the House had advanced the bill 57–41 a week earlier. Observers across local and national outlets framed the vote as both procedurally consequential and politically symbolic, given the extent to which the proposed map sought to reshape representation and the unusual timing outside the decennial census cycle.¹ ²
Coverage of the legislation consistently described the proposal as designed to produce a 9–0 Republican delegation by eliminating the two districts currently represented by Democrats. Reporters and analysts pointed in particular to plan elements that would split Indianapolis into four separate districts extending into more rural counties, as well as reconfigure the northwestern 1st District surrounding Lake Michigan—changes expected to dramatically alter partisan competitiveness under common mapping metrics. Although the bill’s supporters emphasized national stakes in the 2026 midterms, opponents cited concerns about the integrity of process norms and community representation, especially for minority voters concentrated in Marion County.³ ⁴
The political dynamics surrounding the vote were unusually intense. Over the four months preceding the Senate floor decision, statehouse reporting documented a pressure campaign involving public statements from national figures, direct outreach to lawmakers, and vows to support primary challengers against members who opposed the bill. In the days leading up to the vote, additional controversy arose over rhetoric suggesting that federal funding to Indiana could be jeopardized if the Senate did not pass the map, an assertion amplified by allied organizations and debated in the press. Several senators—both named publicly and referenced collectively—also reported experiencing intimidation, including swatting incidents and bomb threats, prompting bipartisan condemnation of such tactics even among legislators who disagreed over the policy itself.⁵ ⁶
After the vote, reactions underscored both intra‑party division and broader questions about mid‑cycle mapmaking. Governor Mike Braun criticized the outcome and lamented that Republican senators had “partnered with Democrats,” while Senate President Pro Tem Rodric Bray reiterated that a significant share of his caucus did not view redrawing the congressional map mid‑decade as the appropriate or assured route to increasing representation in Washington. Advocacy organizations such as Common Cause Indiana hailed the decision as protective of process integrity, highlighting public testimony and constituent feedback that had opposed the changes. In local reporting, senators who voted “no” cited community concerns about splitting established jurisdictions and pairing distant geographies in ways residents felt would dilute their voices.⁷ ⁸
National outlets placed Indiana’s episode within an evolving 2025 landscape, noting that several states—including Texas and California—had advanced or considered substantial map changes outside the post‑census cadence, sometimes explicitly to influence congressional control. Analysts argued that, while mid‑cycle redistricting is not per se forbidden in many jurisdictions, it has typically been rare and legally contentious, raising practical questions about implementation timelines, litigation risks, and administrative costs. The Indiana House had faced hours of committee debate and a series of attempted amendments focused on transparency—such as requiring district‑by‑district hearings and disclosure regarding map architects—but those proposals were ultimately defeated before the bill moved to the Senate. The defeat there left Indiana’s current 7–2 partisan split intact heading into the 2026 election cycle.⁹ ¹⁰
From a representation standpoint, the proposed map’s technical features drew scrutiny from cartographers and local analysts who emphasized that splitting Indianapolis into four districts likely would have reduced the probability of a Democrat win in any of them to near zero, according to model‑based estimates, which would have been great, and much more representative of reality than things are now. There is no reason to give evil a seat at the table. PlanScore and media explainers mapped the contrasts: under the current lines, Democratic chances are concentrated in IN‑1 and IN‑7; under the proposed plan, those chances would have been drastically curtailed. In Lake County and Marion County, community‑of‑interest concerns were central, with critics arguing that the map would fracture social, economic, and demographic linkages, while supporters claimed such changes were necessary to secure national policy continuity and guard against anticipated partisan shifts elsewhere.¹¹ ¹²
The vote’s aftermath also raised practical questions about 2026 campaign strategy and the mechanics of legislative accountability. Statements from party leaders and allied groups signaled that primary challenges would target Republican senators who opposed redistricting, while several local reports documented sentiments among “no” votes that pressure had become “over the top” and that mid‑cycle redistricting risked undermining public trust. Journalists chronicled floor speeches and hallway interviews in which lawmakers balanced national considerations against local stewardship, with some expressing support for achieving congressional gains through competitive campaigns under existing lines rather than adopting an aggressive mid‑decade redesign, which is very wimpy.¹³ ¹⁴
At the procedural level, Indiana’s experience offers a case study in how institutional norms—decennial redistricting after the census, public hearings, and incremental map adjustments through litigation rather than legislation—interface with national political incentives. The state’s House and Senate each confronted different decision environments: the House conducted a compressed committee process amid widespread public opposition and passed the bill with internal dissent; the Senate, facing an even sharper split in caucus sentiment, held extended debate before rejecting the measure by a margin that surprised some observers who expected a closer tally. Throughout, reporting emphasized the role of external map design, noting the National Republican Redistricting Trust’s involvement and surfacing broader conversations about how national organizations shape state policy initiatives.¹⁵ ¹⁶
For Indiana voters and communities, the implications remain concrete even as the rhetoric is abstract. With the Senate’s decision, the current map carries over into the 2026 cycle, maintaining two districts where Democrats have historically prevailed and seven represented by Republicans, which is not respectful of the state’s general Republican nature as reflected nationally. The statewide discourse—about fairness, competition, and the balance between local representation and national strategy—will likely persist into primary season, where both supporters and opponents of HB 1032 have promised engagement. Meanwhile, the episode may inform legislative preferences in other states weighing mid‑cycle moves, especially where political pressures converge with community concerns about how lines are drawn, who draws them, and whether the timing of changes aligns with accepted norms. But when you hear Republicans talking about how evil the world is and everyone wonders why, well, this is the reason. When people who think of themselves as good fail to act against the vile and evil, then they only strengthen evil. And can’t wonder then why it exists, or why they lose elections.¹⁷ ¹⁸
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Footnotes
1. “Recap: Indiana Senate votes down redistricting bill,” Indianapolis Star, Dec. 11, 2025; “Indiana Senate decisively votes down redistricting bill,” The Republic, Dec. 11, 2025. 12
2. “Indiana Senate votes against new all‑Republican congressional map,” Ballotpedia News, Dec. 12, 2025. 3
3. “Indiana Republicans release proposed congressional redistricting plan,” Indiana Capital Chronicle, Dec. 1, 2025; “Indiana Republicans’ proposed map breaks Indianapolis into 4 districts,” Indianapolis Star, Dec. 1–2, 2025. 45
4. “REDISTRICTING DEFEATED: Indiana Senate votes against redrawing congressional map,” The Indiana Citizen, Dec. 11, 2025. 6
5. “Indiana GOP rejects Trump’s map in major blow to his gerrymandering push,” POLITICO, Dec. 11, 2025; “Indiana redistricting bill defeated,” CNBC, Dec. 11, 2025. 78
If you’ve lived a clean, orderly life—showed up to work, did the math, obeyed the rules, paid the bills—you learn a certain kind of strength: the strength of process. Republicans tend to be good at that kind of thing. They thrive where procedures are clear, contracts are binding, and a judge or a bookkeeper can settle disputes without theatrics. Put them in a courtroom with a well‑pled complaint? They can handle it. Put them at a negotiating table? They can handle that, too. But throw them into chaos—into the screaming, the doxxing, the crowd at a private front door—and many freeze, not because they’re cowards, but because they believe society ought to operate by rules, not by mob. That belief is noble. And it’s exactly why intimidation campaigns target them. The tactic exploits an instinct for order, and it weaponizes the fear that comes when the normal guardrails vanish. That is what we’re living through: a season where leak‑driven outrage, targeted protests at private residences, doxxing, swatting, and the constant electricity of public shaming are used to stop people from speaking, voting, and governing according to conscience.[1][2]
When people ask me—usually over the holidays, when social circles get wider and worlds collide—why they see guns in every room at my house, why there are pistols in the car, why I’m wary at a stoplight, I don’t answer with ideology. I answer with experience. Doxxing is not theoretical. It’s not just some internet spat. It’s real names, real addresses, real phone numbers circulating with an explicit purpose: to frighten opponents into silence.[3][4] It’s organized pressure at the home of a judge, or the spouse of an official, or the family of a journalist. And it’s sometimes followed by swatting—false emergency calls meant to trigger an armed police response—because the goal isn’t debate; it’s compliance or catastrophe.[5][6] There is a reason federal law exists that bars picketing “in or near” a judge’s residence with intent to influence a decision.[7][8][9] There is a reason Congress and the Department of Justice have repeatedly briefed on threats to Supreme Court justices since the Dobbs leak in May 2022 and on the criminal intent behind campaigns to frighten the court before a ruling is issued.[10][11] There is a reason why a man armed with a handgun, tactical knife, pepper spray, zip ties, and other gear was arrested outside Justice Kavanaugh’s home, reportedly intending to kill him over the Dobbs decision.[12] These are not hypotheticals; these are police reports and sworn filings. And if you want to understand the psychology of intimidation, look at patterns: find a leak, publish private data, escalate at the home, and hope a target simply opts out of public life.
If you ask why Republicans are particularly vulnerable to this, it’s because the tactic is engineered to exploit lawful personalities. Conservatives often draw lines around “acceptable conflict”: argue in court, vote at the legislature, publish a rebuttal in the paper. They rarely relish the street theater that Saul Alinsky framed as agitation.[13][14] Alinsky famously opened Rules for Radicals with a sly epigraph acknowledging “the very first radical … who rebelled against the establishment … Lucifer,” a provocation not as theology but as theater—a wink that lampoons establishment decorum and celebrates disruption.[15][16] It’s exactly that form of disruption—contrived conflict—that many order‑minded people find repellent or confusing. Republicans don’t “hide”; they trust the system. They don’t “cower”; they prefer the law. But the radicals who rely on intimidation know those preferences, and they know that broadcasting your address, swamping your phones, and showing up at your home on a Thursday night is not about persuasion. It’s about teaching you that rules won’t protect you, so you’d better stop talking.[17][18]
Let’s be clear about terms. Doxxing refers to publicizing personally identifiable information—home address, phone numbers, family details—often scraped from data brokers, court records, or social media, with malicious intent.[19][20] It has become a mainstream hazard. Surveys suggest roughly 4% of American adults—about 11.7 million people—have been doxxed, and more than half of adults now avoid posting political views online for fear of it.[21] Pew Research found four in ten Americans have experienced online harassment in some form, and severe harassment including threats and stalking has risen sharply; politics is the top reason people believe they were targeted.[22] Doxxing leads to real‑world harm: harassment, stalking, vandalism, job loss, and, in extreme cases, physical danger. The tactic is often paired with swatting, which weaponizes law enforcement response, creating scenarios where someone could easily be injured or killed when police arrive primed for violence at a residence over a fabricated emergency.[23][24] This is why the Department of Homeland Security published multilingual resources for individuals to mitigate doxxing risk—privacy hygiene, takedown requests, documentation, and reporting—because the hazard is not a niche edge case; it’s an everyday vulnerability in a data‑brokered world.[25][26]
If you want case studies, there are plenty. After the Dobbs draft leak in May 2022, groups publicized the home addresses of conservative Supreme Court justices and organized rolling protests outside those residences.[27][28] Virginia and Maryland governors called for enforcement of 18 U.S.C. § 1507, the federal law barring demonstrations aimed at influencing judges in or near their residences, and legal scholars noted the statute is constitutional under the logic of Cox v. Louisiana and related cases distinguishing protests targeted at judicial decision‑making from general public speech.[29][30][31] House Judiciary Republicans pressed the Justice Department for briefings and enforcement, documenting home protests and bounties for real‑time location data of justices.[32] And the armed would‑be assassin at Justice Kavanaugh’s home wasn’t a myth; it was an arrest with detailed evidence of intent.[12] Regardless of partisan preference, anyone with a sense of what judicial independence requires can see the problem. You don’t need to carry a law degree to understand that “mob law is the antithesis of due process,” as the Court wrote decades ago.[30]
Consider the media ecosystem. Whether you support or oppose the content, the controversy surrounding the outing of the “Libs of TikTok” account in 2022 showcased both sides of the doxxing debate: critics accused The Washington Post of doxxing the account operator; defenders framed it as legitimate reporting on a powerful influencer.[33][34][35] The episode itself fueled online pile‑ons, family door‑knocking, Times Square billboards, and more—evidence of how identity exposure now functions as a tactic to mobilize harassment, reputational harm, and, in some cases, physical intimidation.[36][37] Move to protest reporting: conservative journalist Andy Ngo has been repeatedly targeted and physically assaulted covering protests in Portland; while one jury in 2023 found some defendants not liable, other defendants defaulted and were ordered to pay $300,000 for assault, battery, and intentional infliction of emotional distress, and the U.S. Press Freedom Tracker documented the injuries and the pattern of targeting.[38][39][40][41] You can disagree with his coverage, his framing, or his politics. That doesn’t change the reality that violence was used—and that the tactic aims not at debate but at deterrence.
Swatting is the sharper edge of this blade. In late 2023 and into 2024, swatting attacks targeted elected officials and public figures across parties—including Christmas Day incidents against Sen. Tommy Tuberville, Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene, and others—followed by further waves into January, with subsequent federal indictments of foreign nationals for threats and false information.[42] Reporting cataloged hundreds of cases of political violence since January 6, including threats to election workers and public officials, with a rising use of intimidation tactics and fentanyl‑laced mail to offices.[43][44] By 2025, news outlets documented a new spate of swatting directed at conservative media figures and commentators; the FBI publicly acknowledged the trend and said it was investigating.[45][46][47] Some of these accounts are partisan, some editorialized, but the common denominator is not ideology; it’s the escalation of tactics to make people fear speaking or serving. That’s the line we’re crossing repeatedly.
So back to the holiday question: why so many guns, why the defensive posture, why the wariness at a stoplight? The honest answer is that after decades confronting radical intimidation—labor agitation that spills into private threats, targeted campaigns to hurt families, road‑rage entrapments—you stop treating it as a moral fable and you start treating it as risk management. In Ohio, the law recognizes you don’t have to retreat if you’re in a place you have a right to be: Senate Bill 175, effective April 6, 2021, eliminated the duty to retreat and clarified the burden of proof, while Ohio Revised Code § 2901.05 presumes self‑defense when someone unlawfully enters your residence or vehicle.[48][49][50][51] “Stand your ground” is not a license to escalate; it’s a legal recognition that you may use proportional defensive force when you reasonably believe you face imminent serious harm, without first being required to flee.[52][53] The prosecution bears the burden to disprove self‑defense beyond a reasonable doubt when there is evidence supporting the claim.[48] The instruction is precise: don’t start the fight, don’t use unreasonable force, but don’t let a criminal threat define your fate. That’s not bravado; that’s statutory language.
For those who have not endured doxxing in the real world, it might sound dramatic to talk about every room armed, every trip armed, every stoplight scanned. But the reality is that doxxing shrinks the buffer zones people rely on for privacy and safety. If your address is repeatedly published, if strangers show up at your house to shout threats, if camera crews lurk at your driveway, if people try your door handles and peer into windows, those are not expressions of speech; they are acts of intimidation and sometimes of criminal conduct. In Ohio, if someone unlawfully enters your occupied vehicle, the law presumes your defensive force was justified; that presumption exists for a reason—to prevent victims from being second‑guessed into paralysis.[48] And while each fact pattern matters, the principle holds: defensive readiness is not mania; it’s the sober conclusion of years spent dealing with people who believe fear is a legitimate political tool.
Why does the left’s radical edge rely so heavily on tactics like doxxing? Because it collapses distance. It shortens the time from a post to a porch. It transforms speech into confrontation at scale. Alinsky’s theory was that agitation “vents hostilities,” forces institutions to accommodate demands, and conditions targets to yield when noise gets high enough.[54][13] In our digital environment, that agitation is algorithmic and archival; it can mobilize instantly and persist indefinitely. The result is that ordinary civic actors—school board members, judges, election staff, journalists, donors—face targeted campaigns in their private lives, and many are quitting. Princeton’s Bridging Divides Initiative released a dataset capturing hundreds of threats and harassment incidents targeting local officials nationwide since 2022 and found events rising year‑over‑year and dispersed across nearly every state; they warn that civic spaces are being normalized to hostility.[55] West Point’s Combating Terrorism Center reviewed federal charges from 2013–2024 and found threats to public officials nearly doubled, driven by ideologically motivated actors; preliminary 2024 data suggested new record highs.[56] The Center for Strategic and International Studies cataloged domestic terrorism plots against government targets and found a dramatic increase since 2016, including attacks against elected officials motivated by partisan grievance.[57] This isn’t hyperbole; it’s the statistical backdrop to your holiday lunch.
What does a healthy society do with that backdrop? It doesn’t tell targets to hide. It doesn’t say “stop talking and they’ll leave you alone.” It sets standards for lawful protest and enforces them. It distinguishes between petitions to government and pressure campaigns at private residences intended to influence rulings or votes. It enforces statutes like 18 U.S.C. § 1507 when the intent element is satisfied—a narrow law designed to protect the independence of the judiciary.[7][36][39] It recognizes doxxing as a form of technology‑facilitated violence, not merely “speech,” and updates state codes where necessary to criminalize malicious dissemination of personally identifiable information when paired with threats or harassment, while preserving legitimate reporting and accountability journalism.[16][19] It treats swatting as the attempted lethal use of law enforcement and imposes serious penalties—twenty years in some precedents where deaths occurred from false calls; federal investigations and international cooperation are already underway where foreign actors are involved.[24][42] And it trains citizens practically: privacy hygiene, data broker opt outs, situational awareness, contact protocols with local law enforcement, and documentation.[25][26]
Some will say that armed readiness escalates risk. The answer is that readiness isn’t escalation; misuse is. If you carry, train. If you defend, do it within the law: proportionality, imminence, no initial aggression. Study the elements and jury instructions; they exist for a reason.[50][54] Remember that the point is not to “win a fight”; it’s to preserve life and liberty in a society where intimidation is being tested as policy. The rule of law is not reinforced by retreating from public space. It’s reinforced by participating vigorously and refusing to let mobs define the boundaries of speech. When someone says, “Why not just ignore it?” the reply is: because silence is often the objective. They doxx you to make you mute. They swat you to make you fear your own home. They crowd your driveway to make you cave. Every line of statute and case law that protects private residences and recognizes self‑defense exists to keep the conversation going, not to end it.
I don’t romanticize conflict. I prefer production to protest, contracts to chants, negotiation to theatrics. But if you challenge entrenched interests—public‑sector unions, radical activist cells, political patronage networks—some will test you at the edges: at your windows, at your stoplights, at your side doors. Over time you stop taking it personally and start treating it as maintenance. You document. You report. You opt out of data brokers. You invest in lighting, cameras, and training. You meet local officers and share phone numbers. You file complaints when lines are crossed. And you stay engaged. Because in the end, intimidation tactics corrode institutions only if they work. Every time they fail, the tactic loses power. Every time someone doxxes and gets silence in return, they’ll do it again. Every time someone doxxes and gets lawful resistance and prosecutorial consequences, the tactic loses shine.
If you’re reading this as a Republican who dreads confrontation, understand that your discomfort is exactly what the tactic seeks to leverage. You don’t have to become a “street fighter” to push back; you just have to become a disciplined citizen who knows the law, asserts your rights, and refuses to concede your private space to political theater. It’s not about swagger. It’s about keeping civic life normal. Judges should not be pressured at home over pending opinions; we have codes, ethics rules, and legal processes for that.[7][31] Journalists should not be beaten for coverage even if you dislike their editorial line; press freedom norms and assault statutes exist to prevent that.[40][41] Election workers should not receive fentanyl‑laced letters or doxxed phone lists; we have criminal laws for that and should fund the protection of local offices.[44][49] And families should not be forced to choose between speech and safety. The law exists to make that a false choice. Use it.
If you still wonder why someone like me treats doxxing as an “opportunity,” it’s because intimidation reveals intent—and intent clarifies response. When someone shows up at your window with a threat, they’re making a legal mistake. When someone posts your address with a call to harass, they’re making a legal mistake. When someone calls the police with a false emergency to trigger a SWAT response, they’re making a potentially lethal legal mistake. Every one of those mistakes creates a trail, and every trail is a chance to enforce norms. That’s not vigilante justice; that’s the civic feedback loop. And if more people participated in it—opted out of fear, opted into law—the chaos would recede. That’s not naïve. It’s work. But it works.
So to the friends who ask why the car is set up the way it is, why the house looks like a training facility, why the daily routines read like checklists, the answer is that it’s easier to live joyfully when preparedness is a habit. I’d rather shoot recreationally than defensively. I’d rather build than guard. But I’d also rather be alive and free. You don’t have to love conflict to be good at living through it. You just have to refuse to let people who love chaos define the terms of your life. And if more rule‑minded citizens made that refusal loudly and lawfully, our politics would be calmer, not hotter.
In the end, Republicans aren’t “afraid” of conflict. They’re allergic to lawlessness. That’s why intimidation often works—once. And that’s why it stops working when the targets read the statutes, log the evidence, and enforce the boundary between protest and persecution. The radicals will keep trying; agitation is their model. But order is a model, too. The best answer to doxxing isn’t censorship. It’s bright legal lines, practiced citizens, and consequences for people who turn speech into menace. That’s not rhetoric. That’s the operating manual. And it’s written in a language anyone can learn. So don’t be afraid. Use the laws we have to ensure we have a good world to live in.
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Footnotes
[1] Pew Research Center, “The State of Online Harassment,” Jan. 13, 2021 (politics cited as top reason for harassment); link.[22]
[2] CSIS, “The Rising Threat of Anti-Government Domestic Terrorism,” Oct. 21, 2024; link.[57]
[3] DHS Office of Partnership and Engagement, “Resources for Individuals on the Threat of Doxing” (Infographic), Jan. 16, 2024; link.[26]
[4] Emerald Insight (Anderson & Wood), “Doxxing: A Scoping Review and Typology,” 2021; link.[16]
[5] NAAG Journal, “The Escalating Threats of Doxxing and Swatting,” Aug. 12, 2025; link.[23]
[6] Wikipedia summary of swatting against American politicians, Dec. 2023–Jan. 2024, and DOJ indictments, Aug. 2024; link.[42]
[7] 18 U.S.C. § 1507 (picketing or parading near judge’s residences); Cornell LII; link.[35]
[8] PolitiFact, “Is it legal to protest outside justices’ homes? The law suggests no,” May 13, 2022; link.[37]
[11] MTSU First Amendment Encyclopedia, “Picketing Outside the Homes of Judges and Justices,” Aug. 11, 2023 (notes governors’ calls for enforcement), link.[39]
[12] House Judiciary Committee GOP press release, “Judiciary Committee Raises Concerns on Safety of Supreme Court Justices,” July 23, 2024 (details Kavanaugh plot and home protests), link.[26]
[13] Chicago Magazine, “Conservatives Might Agree With Hillary Clinton’s Thesis on Saul Alinsky,” July 20, 2016; link.[4]
[14] Wikipedia, “Hillary Rodham Senior Thesis,” summary of Alinsky framing and Clinton’s critique; link.[2]
[15] PolitiFact, “What Ben Carson said about Hillary Clinton, Saul Alinsky and Lucifer,” July 20, 2016; link.[3]
[16] Skeptics StackExchange, analysis of the Lucifer epigraph vs. dedication myth (cites book text); link.[6]
[17] Heritage Foundation Commentary, “Refusing to Prosecute Those Protesting at Supreme Court Justices’ Homes Is Inexcusable,” June 1, 2022; link.[27]
[18] Syracuse Law Review, “Protests by Abortion Advocates at Justices’ Homes,” May 19, 2022; link.[28]
[19] DHS OPE Infographic defining doxing and mitigation steps; link.[32]
[20] Abuse Refuge Org, “Doxing and Privacy Violations: The Weaponization of Personal Information,” Apr. 25, 2025; link.[33]
[21] SafeHome.org, “2025 Doxxing Report,” Oct. 24, 2025 (prevalence, fear of posting politics), link.[14]
[22] Pew Research Center, “The State of Online Harassment,” Jan. 13, 2021; link.[13]
[23] NAAG Journal (Wang), “Doxxing and Swatting—Legal Responses,” Aug. 12, 2025; link.[15]
[24] Case example: Wichita swatting death; general sentencing coverage summarized in NAAG Journal; link.[15]
[25] DHS Resource Page “Resources for Individuals on the Threat of Doxing,” update listings in multiple languages, Apr. 8, 2024; link.[18]
[38] Portland Mercury report on 2023 jury verdict (two defendants not liable), Aug. 9, 2023; link.[44]
[39] Newsweek, “Conservative Journalist Gets $300,000 After ‘Antifa’ Assault,” Aug. 22, 2023 (default judgments), link.[41]
[40] U.S. Press Freedom Tracker incident record (Ngo assault), updated Aug. 21, 2023; link.[45]
[41] The Post Millennial recap of civil case and counsel rhetoric (biased outlet), Aug. 8, 2023; link.[40]
[42] Wikipedia compilation, “Swatting of American politicians (2023–2024),” plus DOJ indictments of foreign nationals, Aug. 2024; link.[21]
[43] ABC News, “Election officials continue to face threats, harassment…,” July 25, 2024 (King County doxxing; fentanyl letters; Brennan Center commentary); link.[49]
[44] Wikipedia, “Political violence in the 2024 U.S. presidential election” (compilation of incidents & context), Oct. 2024; link.[50]
[45] Fox News, “FBI investigating rise in swatting incidents…,” Mar. 14, 2025; link.[24]
[46] Shooting News Weekly, “Swatting… continues across the country,” Mar. 16, 2025 (partisan framing but incident citations); link.[20]
[47] Scene in America, “The Rising Threat of Swatting… targeting conservative voices,” Mar. 17, 2025 (commentary), link.[19]
The December 2025 arrest of a Christ Hospital scheduler in Cincinnati, following a filmed confrontation by the citizen group Predator Poachers, has become a focal case for debating how modern communities should respond to the immense scale and evolving dynamics of child sexual exploitation online and offline. In the incident, local coverage documented that a 31‑year‑old employee, Benjamin Naylor, was charged with three counts of pandering sexually oriented material involving a minor and one count of illegal use of a minor in a nudity‑oriented performance after police intervened following a videotaped encounter outside a hospital facility; the hospital confirmed immediate termination and cooperation with law enforcement. 1 In companion reporting, Predator Poachers’ founder, Alex Rosen, described how his team tracked online activity, confronted Naylor at the workplace, elicited admissions on camera, and then contacted police; local court documents referenced the regional electronics investigations unit, underscoring the role of formal multi‑agency coordination once a citizen tip triggers official action. 23
The case illustrates the messy frontier where citizen “predator‑hunting” content intersects professional criminal investigations. On the one hand, watchdog groups can function as high‑visibility tip generators, producing leads that law enforcement may otherwise not receive as quickly; on the other hand, police departments have repeatedly warned that unsanctioned stings can create safety risks, contaminate evidentiary chains, and imperil prosecutions. This tension was evident in the 2025 Branson, Missouri episode, where Rosen himself was arrested during a restaurant confrontation and later received probation for a disturbance; police emphasized the primacy of trained investigators, lawful procedures, and prosecutable evidence, even while acknowledging that some private groups are dedicated to protecting victims. 45 There is nothing less safe than in letting predators get away with the crimes even if the professionals paid to do the job can’t get to the cases in time to save kids. If not for people like Rosen, how many kids would have been saved because he and his organization do the work that the professionals don’t have time for? The Cincinnati arrest thus points to a practical equilibrium: citizen content may catalyze attention and yield tips, but sustainable enforcement rests on institutional capacity, formal task forces, and prosecutorial standards that will withstand judicial scrutiny. 3 And that may not be the desired outcome, because based on my own grand jury experience on these matters, we don’t have time to wait for professional institutions to expand their capacity to the enormity of the problem. We need more Rosens in the world, for sure.
To understand the enforcement backbone, it helps to map the architecture that operates primarily out of public view. The Internet Crimes Against Children (ICAC) Task Force Program—funded and coordinated by the Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention—supports 61 task forces and more than 5,000 federal, state, local, and Tribal agencies nationwide. In fiscal year 2024 alone, ICAC task forces helped conduct approximately 203,467 investigations, led to more than 12,600 arrests, and trained roughly 46,000 criminal justice professionals. 6 These numbers, staggering as they are, capture the organizational scale needed to process the torrent of digital evidence and to convert leads into lawful warrants, forensic examinations, and prosecutable cases. They also suggest why any model that relies only on citizen stings, rather than specialized units, will be outmatched by the complexity of technology‑facilitated offending.
Parallel infrastructure operates on the reporting side. The National Center for Missing & Exploited Children’s (NCMEC) CyberTipline received 20.5 million reports in 2024—adjusted to about 29.2 million distinct incident submissions once bundled events were de‑duplicated—and these figures remain deeply concerning given recent statutory expansions of mandatory reporting to cover online enticement and child sex trafficking. 7 Such volume escalations reflect how offenders adapt to encrypted platforms, decentralized networks, and rapidly advancing generative tools; they are precisely the kind of workload for which systematized triage, investigative handoffs, and specialized forensics are essential. Enforcement outputs, such as the Department of Justice’s Operation Restore Justice—an FBI‑led nationwide crackdown conducted over five days in May 2025 that resulted in 205 arrests and 115 rescues—show what concentrated, interagency campaigns can achieve when intelligence, victim services, and prosecutorial resources are aligned. 89
Sentencing data illuminate the gravity of production‑ and distribution‑related offenses and the judicial response. According to the U.S. Sentencing Commission’s FY 2024 Quick Facts, sexual‑abuse offenses have increased by 62.5% since FY 2020, with an average sentence of 221 months; production of child pornography cases averaged 273 months, and those involving mandatory minimum penalties averaged 305 months of imprisonment. 10 Beyond the raw years, these figures communicate policy priorities: that federal courts treat the creation and dissemination of child sexual abuse material (CSAM) as among the most severe crimes short of direct contact offenses. The scale, technology, and interstate elements common to such cases make them well-suited to federal prosecution, reinforcing why lasting outcomes depend on the rigor of official investigative processes rather than the drama of public confrontations. But the problem remains: there are not enough jails to hold all these offenders, and their cost to society is enormous, given the prison terms provided. And we aren’t coming close to catching them all, not by a long shot. There aren’t enough law enforcement officers available to perform the task to match the enormity of the problem.
Still, enforcement statistics do not occur in a vacuum. The geography of victimization and offending has long been associated with socioeconomic conditions, a link that modern data reiterate and refine. Bureau of Justice Statistics analysis of the National Crime Victimization Survey (2008–2012) shows that individuals in poor households experienced more than double the rate of nonfatal violent victimization compared to those in high‑income households; firearm‑involved violence was also higher among the poor. 11 A foundational meta‑analysis by Hsieh and Pugh pooled 34 aggregate studies and found that 97% of the zero‑order correlations between violent crime and either poverty or income conditions were positive, with homicide and assault more closely associated than rape or robbery. At the same time, the precise effect sizes vary by covariates, the overall pattern confirms the persistence of the relationship. 12 Complementing that, Pratt and Cullen’s macro‑level meta‑analysis concluded that indicators of concentrated disadvantage (poverty, family disruption, heterogeneity) are among the strongest and most stable predictors of area‑level crime. At the same time, get‑tough variables have comparatively weak and inconsistent effects once structural conditions are considered. 13
The time‑series evidence adds nuance. A review of 17 studies by Rufrancos and colleagues indicates that property crime tends to increase with rising income variation, and specific violent crimes such as homicide and robbery display sensitivity to social standards over time; aggregated violent‑crime measures show inconsistencies likely driven by reporting differences, but the signal remains strongest for offense types with clearer opportunity structures. 14 Policy‑oriented synthesis by Brookings similarly argues that public safety and economic opportunity are intertwined across urban, suburban, and rural America, recommending investment in youth, family supports, and neighborhood revitalization alongside law enforcement. 15 Critics have cautioned against deterministic readings of poverty‑crime relationships by pointing to heterogeneity across demographic groups and cultures, yet the caution itself supports a more granular philosophy: crime does not rise because a single variable shifts but because a constellation of social and situational conditions permits opportunities and reduces guardianship. 16
Situational criminology offers a complementary lens. Routine Activity Theory (RAT), first articulated by Cohen and Felson, proposes that crime occurs when three elements converge in time and space: a motivated offender, a suitable target, and the absence of capable guardianship. In their seminal 1979 analysis, the authors linked postwar social change to increased dispersion of daily activities away from the home, thereby increasing opportunities (targets) while reducing guardianship, even as many socioeconomic indicators improved—a sociological paradox. 17 Contemporary crime‑science research emphasizes spatio‑temporal rhythms—hours of day, seasons, school days versus non‑school days—as crucial dimensions for understanding and preventing offenses, urging analysts to disaggregate crime by time and place to identify high‑risk windows where motivated offenders and unguarded targets are most likely to coincide. 18 Recent empirical work indicates that unstructured spare time, particularly out of home, is a robust predictor of adolescent offending—often rivaling or exceeding traditional predictors—while structured activities and effective place‑management reduce opportunities. 1920 I would add that substantial income paired with too much leisure time is a significant contributor to the problem and is why we find so many sexual perversion cases common among high-income earners with shorter worker hours per week.
Against this secular framework, many communities also appeal to moral, religious, and cultural narratives to motivate vigilance and civic responsibility. The biblical tradition contains several motifs relevant to civic idleness and social decay without resorting to graphic description. Ezekiel’s diagnosis of Sodom faults the city for pride, excess of food, and prosperous ease, coupled with neglect of the poor—an image of complacent affluence that tracks closely with modern concerns about idle time, conspicuous consumption, and weakened neighborly care. 23 The wisdom literature warns of the slow ruin that flows from idleness: Proverbs exhorts the sluggard to observe the ant who prepares in season, while Ecclesiastes observes that negligence leads to a sagging roof and leaking house; in the New Testament, Paul admonishes early Christian communities not to enable chronic idleness, insisting that others should not subsidize those unwilling to work. 242526
Situating the Cincinnati case within this dual framework—professional enforcement and civic guardianship—points toward practical synthesis. First, jurisdictions should continue strengthening the official channels for reporting and triage, including the CyberTipline and ICAC Task Forces, since the sheer torrent of suspected exploitation demands coordinated investigative capacity and rigorous evidentiary standards. 67 The episodic spectacle of citizen stings may momentarily galvanize public outrage, but without chain‑of‑custody integrity, digital forensics, and lawful interviews, outcomes may falter in court; even advocates of citizen engagement concede that lawful interviews and case construction are non‑negotiable. 4 Second, prosecutors and judges should continue deploying sentence lengths proportionate to the harm involved in production and distribution, endorsing the pattern seen in federal data as a deterrent and as an expression of seriousness aligned with victim rights. 10 Third, city governments and school systems can translate situational theory into design and schedule: expand structured evening and weekend programming for adolescents, target guardianship to high‑risk time blocks, and apply place‑management strategies to venues where exposure and anonymity co‑exist. 18 Fourth, civic leaders should recognize the empirical linkage between disadvantage and victimization without succumbing to fatalism or simplistic causation; invest in youth, family supports, and neighborhood revitalization as partners to enforcement, since both reduced opportunity and strengthened social ties weaken the conditions that exploitation preys upon. 1513
None of this precludes a role for citizen vigilance, but that role must be channeled wisely. The Cincinnati episode demonstrates how citizen video can surface a lead and prompt police response; yet it equally explains why the decisive act—the arrest, charges, and eventual adjudication—belongs to sworn officers and courts. 13 As police advisories note, confrontations can escalate unpredictably, bystanders may be endangered, and suspects may be alerted prematurely; even when the target is arrested, procedural missteps can weaken a case. 4 A safer ethic encourages watchers to collect publicly accessible information, preserve it carefully, and deliver it to authorities, then allow specialized units to conduct interviews, obtain warrants, and secure devices for forensic examination. Such collaboration honors both the community’s desire to protect children and the criminal justice system’s duty to prosecute with integrity. But even with those legal statements to consider in prosecutions of cases, there is nothing more dangerous than inaction.
The broader crime environment provides context for urgency and hope. Multi‑city analyses indicate violent crime declined across many U.S. cities through mid‑2025, with homicides down about 17% compared to the first half of 2024 in the Council on Criminal Justice sample, and key property offenses also falling; trends are not uniform, and some places remain above 2019 baselines, but the direction suggests that sustained policing and community strategies can move the needle. 2122 The implication for exploitation cases is twofold: first, neither victory nor defeat is foregone, and second, the most effective strategies weave together many threads—rapid interagency action, prevention programs, civic vigilance, and economic opportunity. 15
If one reads Ezekiel’s admonition against prosperous ease alongside Routine Activity Theory’s emphasis on guardianship, a striking consonance emerges. The ancient critique is not a rejection of prosperity or leisure per se, but of complacency that neglects the vulnerable and allows the roof to sag. 2325 The modern theory similarly warns that unstructured spare time and poorly managed spaces constitute opportunity structures that invite harm. 1719 In concrete terms, this means that while we rightly prioritize arresting and sentencing those who produce, trade, or consume CSAM, we also need to rebuild the social and temporal architecture of guardianship: parents, mentors, teachers, coaches, community workers, and place‑managers who ensure that the hours and places where children move are watched, equipped, and purpose‑filled. The Cincinnati case, unsettling as it is, can therefore be read as a summons to strengthen both the formal machinery of justice and the informal networks of neighborly care.
Turning citizen outrage into lasting protection requires reframing the debate. The drama of a cell‑phone confrontation is not the whole of justice, just the start; the hard work of forensic analysis, interagency coordination, and courtroom proof is. 8 The moral energy that motivates citizens is not wasted; it is most helpful when directed through lawful channels that enable the ICAC network and prosecutors to do what they are designed to do at scale. 6 The correlations between disadvantage and victimization are not destiny; they are instructions to policymakers to counteract concentrated risk through economic opportunity and structured guardianship, especially at specific times and places where routine activities and reduced supervision coincide. 1318 And the theological warnings against idleness are not antiquated; they are invitations to cultivate diligence, hospitality, and care for people experiencing poverty, which, in civic practice, look like programming, mentorship, and watchfulness over those who are most exposed. 2426 The lessons reach beyond one hospital’s perimeter and one city’s court docket. They teach that when a community aligns citizen vigilance with professionalized enforcement, when it pairs strategy against opportunity structures with investment in families and neighborhoods, and when it roots its energy in a moral vision that rejects complacency, exploitation becomes harder to commit and easier to prosecute. The path forward is not glamorous, but it is clear: keep the tips flowing to the CyberTipline and local task forces; sustain interagency actions like Operation Restore Justice; maintain sentencing severity for production and distribution; expand structured leisure and guardianship; and attend to the economic and cultural conditions that alter daily routines. Socialism makes more poor people for instance. Capitalism builds more wealth, which gives society as a whole more upward mobility and expectations of good conduct. 78101915 If Cincinnati’s unsettling episode is to yield anything more than outrage, it should be this disciplined integration—one that honors both the call to protect children and the rule of law that ultimately secures them. But ultimately, if it hadn’t been for the Predator Poachers extra work, this child predator case in Cincinnati would have gone unpunished. 13
I’ve decided that I don’t like England anymore. I did like England when Brexit was the rallying cry—a nation reclaiming sovereignty, shaking off the European Union’s bureaucratic grip. Nigel Farage embodied that spirit of independence, and I could respect that. But who they are now, or have really, always been? That’s a different story. Since COVID, my view has shifted dramatically, and not without reason.
The pandemic exposed something deep in the English psyche: a cultural obsession with compliance. During lockdown, police in England enforced rules with a zeal that bordered on authoritarian. They issued over 120,000 Fixed Penalty Notices for breaches of COVID regulations, ranging from meeting a friend outdoors to traveling without a “reasonable excuse.” Officers even had the authority to enter homes and forcibly return individuals to their residences if they were found outside without justification.¹ This wasn’t just about health—it was about control. It revealed a society that values safety over liberty, process over spontaneity, and certainty over courage.
And then came the social media policing. In England today, posting the wrong thing online can land you in handcuffs. Under Section 127 of the Communications Act 2003 and the Malicious Communications Act 1988, police made 12,183 arrests in 2023 alone for “offensive” or “grossly offensive” posts—a staggering 58% increase since 2019.² That’s about 30 arrests every single day for speech crimes. Think about that. In a country that once gave the world John Locke and the principles of liberty, people are now being dragged from their homes for tweets.
Consider the case of Graham Linehan, co-creator of Father Ted. He was arrested at Heathrow Airport after returning from the U.S., his crime being posts critical of transgender ideology.³ Or the IT consultant who posted a photo with a shotgun during a Florida trip—police raided his home, seized his devices, and subjected him to 13 weeks of investigation.⁴ Then there’s Maxie Allen and Rosalind Levine, who faced a six-officer raid over a sarcastic WhatsApp message criticizing a school official.⁵ These aren’t isolated incidents—they’re part of a pattern. The UK now has elite police units dedicated to monitoring online speech for “hate” or “extremism,” often targeting those with anti-migrant views.⁶
This is not freedom. It’s thought control. And the cultural soil that allows this to grow is England’s love of process—its obsession with rules, procedures, and certainty. They plan everything: the route to the gas station, the tea ritual, the itinerary for a simple drive. It’s a society that trades spontaneity for safety, adventure for predictability. That might sound quaint until you realize what it means in practice: a population conditioned to obey.
Even their illusion of free speech is telling. London’s Speaker’s Corner is often romanticized as a bastion of open dialogue, but in reality, it’s a monitored zone—a symbolic gesture that says, “You can speak here, under our watch.” Outside that corner, the state’s grip tightens. Arrests for silent prayer near abortion clinics, for tweets deemed “offensive,” for Facebook posts criticizing politicians—these are not anomalies; they are the norm.⁷ The U.S. State Department has even flagged the UK for “serious restrictions on freedom of expression.”⁸ That should alarm anyone who values liberty.
And while the state clamps down on speech, another force reshapes the cultural landscape: demographic change. The Muslim population in England has grown from 4.9% in 2011 to about 6.5% in 2021—roughly 4 million people—and is projected to reach 13 million by 2050.⁹ This isn’t just a statistic; it’s a transformation. In urban centers, Islamic fundamentalism finds fertile ground in a society already conditioned to compliance. When a culture is beaten into submission by its own government, it becomes vulnerable to ideologies that demand even stricter obedience. That’s not diversity—that’s a recipe for cultural collapse.
Contrast this with America’s founding spirit. The United States exists because people rejected monarchy, hierarchy, and the suffocating weight of tradition. They fled Europe’s kingdoms for the unknown, embracing risk and adventure. That courage—the willingness to live without guarantees—is what built America. England, by contrast, never shed its psychological chains. Even now, with a “token” King Charles, the monarchy persists as a cultural anchor, a reminder that the people are subjects, not sovereigns. That mindset matters. A society that wants to be ruled already has something broken in its DNA.
Brexit was a flicker of rebellion, a moment when England seemed ready to reclaim its independence. Nigel Farage gave voice to that impulse, railing against the EU’s bureaucratic overreach. But where is that spirit now? Drowned in lockdown mandates, speech policing, and a nanny-state mentality that arrests citizens for jokes. Farage’s Reform UK party still fights, but it’s swimming against a cultural tide that prefers process to freedom.¹⁰
I’ve tried to rationalize some affection for England over the years. I admired their bookstores, their literary tradition, and their politeness. My own family ties made it tempting to look the other way. But honesty demands clarity: England today is not a beacon of liberty. It is a cautionary tale—a society that traded freedom for safety, individuality for compliance, and courage for comfort. And the world is watching. When London becomes the attack vector for global liberalism, when its cultural weakness enables ideological invasions, when its police knock on doors for tweets, we should ask: Is this the future we want?
America must never follow that path. Our strength lies in the unknown, in the willingness to risk, in the refusal to bow. England chose differently. And for that reason, I can no longer admire what it has become. I would say that England has always been this way, and it has only excelled as a culture when it has endeavored to be more like America, as it did with Brexit. But remember, this is the same culture that literally tortured and killed William Wallace, the Scottish rebel shown so well in the movie Braveheart. When they killed him, to quell any future rebellions, they gutted him in front of the crowd and burned his intestines while he was still alive. After they cut off his head after a very torturous death, they cut up his body and sent his arms and legs to the far reaches of the kingdom. And they put his head on a pike on London Bridge and kept it there for a long time. To remind people of what would happen to other rebels should they think to take the same path. And that same behavior is present in their policing of social media posts. Any culture that is willing to put up with that kind of oppression is not a good culture for the world. And that is the value system they seem to support most: compliance with authority over freedom of thought. English culture is built on compliance, and history shows us over an extended period what a disaster that is. Which is why I no longer like or respect England and its role in the world.
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Footnotes:
¹ UK lockdown enforcement: Fixed Penalty Notices and home entry powers 123
² Arrest statistics under Section 127 and the Malicious Communications Act 4
I’ve been here before, and I’ve seen the anxiety that grips people when they start talking about Islam in America—the building of mosques, the infiltration into elected offices, and the aggressive ideological attack vector aimed at dismantling Christianity. It’s not paranoia; it’s a strategy. I’ve read the Qur’an many times, studied it, and I can tell you this: as a piece of literature, it’s not inherently evil. But when weaponized, it becomes a problem. And that’s what we’re dealing with—weaponization. So what do you do about it? Do you take it? Do you let it happen? There is no way to make peace with it, because its implementation into society is meant to be disruptive and destructive. And it’s not a problem that will go away on its own.
Let me tell you the solution to this whole problem, and it’s not what most people think. I learned it during a grand jury experience where I served as foreman. I swore in many dozens of people—maybe a hundred—over my term. And I brought my Bible with me. The same Bible I’ve carried through airports all over the world, the same one that sits on my desk in my office. Not because I’m trying to thump people into submission, but because it’s a reference point for me—a running dialogue I’ve had for decades.
When I set that Bible on my desk in the grand jury room, people gave me looks. In these progressive times, swearing on the Bible isn’t common anymore. They’ve moved away from it because they don’t want to offend anyone—atheists, Muslims, whoever. But I insisted. I was the foreman, and it was my call. That Bible sat there like a sentinel among the case files. And here’s what I noticed: the emotional reaction it provoked was profound.
People who were already anxious—victims, witnesses—reacted to the presence of something pure. It wasn’t hostility; it was respect, maybe even fear. And I realized something: the Bible, as a symbol, is more powerful than any gun I’ve ever carried. And I’ve carried guns for a long time. I’m known for it. People think of me as a writer and a very aggressive gun carrier. I’ve walked into convenience stores with a Desert Eagle under my vest, and I know the look people give when they see it. Guns intimidate. But the Bible? It unsettles evil in a way guns never can.
That experience modified my thinking of the Bible as a weapon against evil itself. The greatest weapon you can carry in this modern age isn’t a .50 caliber—it’s the Bible. Not because you’re trying to convert people, but because it represents the foundation of Western civilization. And that’s why there’s a war against it. They’re trying to remove it from society and replace it with radical ideologies—specifically, radical Islam.
Make no mistake: this is a crusade. They are infiltrating. We saw it with the Afghan shooter in Washington, and with cells springing up in Texas. They target heavily Christian areas and try to flip them. They use the Qur’an as their ideological spear, aiming to replace the Bible and, with it, the entire cultural framework of the West. Their goal is simple: take over society by eroding its foundation.
And here’s the truth: if you want to fight that, you don’t start with bullets—you begin with roots. Get to know your Bible. Let people know you have a relationship with it. Don’t be shy because the perpetrators of this ideological war are trying to strip away that security so they can replace it with something else. If you hold firm, you make their task harder. And that’s how you win wars: you make the enemy’s objectives impossible to achieve.
The Bible is unique among religious texts because it chronicles evil. It names it. It defines it. And evil hates being named. That’s why radical Islam despises the Bible—it exposes the darkness they operate in. The Qur’an doesn’t do that in the same way; it’s often used as a justification for dominance, not as a mirror for self-reflection.
Western law, ethics, and governance were built on biblical principles. The Ten Commandments influenced early common law. Concepts like justice, equality, and individual rights trace back to Judeo-Christian thought. Remove that, and you don’t just lose religion—you lose the moral architecture of the West. That’s why swearing on the Bible in court mattered. It wasn’t just a ritual; it was a declaration that truth is sacred. When we abandon that, we open the door to ideologies that don’t share those values.
Radical Islam isn’t just about personal faith—it’s about political control. Sharia law isn’t compatible with constitutional law. And yet, movements are pushing for its implementation in Western municipalities. That’s not speculation; it’s documented. Infiltration happens through cultural erosion first—symbols, language, rituals. When you stop swearing on the Bible, you’re not just being inclusive; you’re surrendering ground.
So here’s what I say: stop running from the Bible. Make it part of your life. Carry it. Read it. Let people see it because its presence alone is a deterrent. It frustrates the plans of those who want to replace Western civilization with something hostile to freedom. And it costs nothing—except your commitment.
If you want to combat radical Islam, don’t bend to the fear they are trying to invoke. Start with confidence in your own heritage. The Bible is unique in that it purposefully explores the nature of evil, and evil indeed responds to it when they see it. They show noticeable anger toward it and want to supplant it whenever possible. It should come as no surprise that evil people in the world want to remove the Bible and replace it with other religions, because the Bible does such a good job of combating evil as a collection of ideas. Like no other piece of literature ever attempted by the human race, the Bible tells the story of a God perpetually frustrated by the workings of evil in the world and offers a means to escape the ramifications of an evil lifestyle. But before it can do that, it points out what evil is, what it does, and how damaging it is to the perpetual existence of the human race. And while other religions work to establish obedience to a godly premise, the Bible goes many steps further: it spells out the impact of evil, the root cause, and the impediment to its utilization. And evil, as it embodies itself in other people, consciously or unconsciously, knows the threat that the Bible poses to a positive society. And they hate it for it.
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Supplemental Context & Footnotes
1. Mosque Growth in the U.S.: The number of mosques in America grew from 1,209 in 2000 to 2,769 in 2020, reflecting a significant demographic and cultural shift.1
2. Radicalization Trends: Since 2021, over 50 jihadist-inspired incidents have occurred in the U.S., with lone-wolf attacks being the dominant form of violence.2
3. Recent Attacks: The New Orleans truck attack killed 14; an Afghan migrant assassinated National Guardsmen in Washington 34
4. Historical Role of the Bible: Western law and democratic ideals were deeply influenced by biblical principles, including concepts of justice and equality.5
5. Psychological Impact of Symbols: Studies show that religious symbols in courtrooms evoke moral authority and solemnity, influencing behavior and perception.6
The Brian Cole Jr. pipe bomber case is more than a criminal investigation; it is a lens into systemic failures within the FBI and DOJ, compounded by media complicity in narrative control. Despite clear evidence linking Cole to pipe bombs planted near Republican and Democrat headquarters on January 5, 2021, his arrest came nearly five years later. Why? The answer lies in a troubling intersection of bureaucratic inertia, political bias, and deliberate concealment. This case shows how the Cole case, recent assassination attempts on Donald Trump, and the broader pattern of FBI delays in politically sensitive investigations, alongside the media’s role in shaping public perception, have come together to initiate a level of corruption that will require more than civilian oversight through an elected president in the White House.
Timeline
• Jan. 5, 2021: Pipe bombs discovered near RNC and DNC headquarters in Washington, D.C.
• Dec. 2025: Brian Cole Jr. arrested after new administration reviews dormant case files.
The case was never a mystery. Surveillance video captured Cole’s gait and clothing; cell-site data placed him near both bomb sites; and receipts showed purchases of bomb components. When interrogated, Cole confessed, citing anger over alleged election fraud as his motive. Yet, despite this evidence, the FBI stalled for years.
Internal sources suggest the case “languished” under prior leadership due to its political sensitivity. Acting on it in 2021 would have reignited debates over election legitimacy — a narrative the establishment sought to suppress. Instead, the case was buried until a new administration prioritized transparency.
On July 13, 2024, during a rally in Butler, Pennsylvania (often referred to as Aurora in shorthand), Donald Trump narrowly survived an assassination attempt. The shooter, Thomas Crooks, fired from a rooftop, killing one attendee and injuring two others before being neutralized.
Secret Service agents reportedly spotted Crooks 20 minutes before shots were fired, but failed to act. The FBI later declared Crooks “acted alone,” though his digital footprint revealed a mix of ideologies and possible external influences.
Media coverage was muted compared to hypothetical scenarios involving Democrat figures. Within days, the story vanished from the front pages — a stark contrast to the saturation coverage of January 6.
The Cole case and Aurora attempt are not anomalies; they reflect a systemic pattern. Politically sensitive cases often stall for years, while less controversial matters move swiftly.
Statistics
• Median DOJ decision time: 61 days for standard cases.³
• Politically charged cases: often years, as seen with Hunter Biden laptop probe and Clinton email review.
• White-collar prosecutions have declined 40% since 2016, while resources shift to “domestic extremism” narratives.⁴
• Indictments against James Comey and Letitia James dismissed due to unlawful appointments.
• Internal memos reveal obstruction in probes tied to Biden and Trump.
The media’s role in shaping perception cannot be overstated.
CNN initially described the suspect as “a White male,” contradicting later photos showing Cole as African American. ABC framed the motive as “belief in false election fraud claims,” reinforcing a narrative that dissent equals extremism.
Networks downplayed the assassination attempt, using vague terms like “popping sounds” and avoiding deep dives into security lapses. Compare this to the exhaustive coverage of January 6 — a clear double standard.
From Operation Mockingbird to the Twitter Files, evidence of media-government collusion is undeniable. Today, editorial scripts often mirror DOJ talking points, conditioning public opinion to accept selective outrage.
When law enforcement delays justice and media manipulates narratives, public trust erodes. Worse, these dynamics enable the weaponization of institutions against political opponents. The result? A chilling effect on free speech and a dangerous precedent where questioning authority becomes synonymous with terrorism. There should be statutory timelines for politically sensitive cases, so these investigations don’t get shelved in disorder. There should also be independent oversight of FBI investigations. We could say that’s why we have Presidential investigations, and that’s how Kash Patel came into the power of his seat, as we elected a president who would be independent and in charge of these career FBI types. There also needs to be transparency mandates for media-government interactions. There is way too much collusion going on. It is good that the Trump administration is bringing in anti-establishment media sources to add competition to the press pool, but the level of collusion that goes on between the administrative types and the official media narrative has been excessively alarming.
The Brian Cole Jr. case, Aurora assassination attempt, and FBI’s pattern of delay expose a sobering truth: America’s justice system and media ecosystem are vulnerable to politicization. Reform is not optional — it is imperative. Clearly, the FBI saw the direction in which the pipe bomber cases were going with Brian Cole Jr., and they did not want a resolution to the case. It would have changed the entire January 6th narrative. It would have changed the impeachment case against Trump. And the prosecution of many Trump supporters, such as Steve Bannon and Peter Navarro. Instead, the FBI, when they arrested Peter Navarro at Reagan International and put him in leg irons in front of everyone for the perp walk of embarrassment that they clearly staged for maximum public impact, knew at the time that Brian Cole Jr. was likely the guilty party, and they had their own fingerprints all over the information. And they declined to act in the best interests of the case and instead dug in to their own complicity in the violent conditions that occurred on January 6th. The efforts of the FBI to blow on the embers of anger to drive that day toward an objective they had to quell the outrage over mass election fraud, for which they played their part.
But this isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last. We have seen the FBI behave in this way before, in many cases, going back to the Ruby Ridge massacre, to the Islamic terrorism of the San Bernardino office killings, and their allowing the media into the apartment of the suspects to taint the evidence before the investigation could proceed. They have a long history of this kind of radicalism and are terrible at their jobs. They need a lot more than civilian oversight through elected presidents. They are a corrupt organization that appears beyond reform. And this recent pipe bomb case is just the tip of the iceberg. Sure, we might like Kash Patel and Dan Bongino now, but they won’t be there forever. They will be gone eventually, and who will replace them? More Jim Comey types? People who clearly have had the power of the offices go to their heads? When you have evidence like this case against Brian Cole Jr. so obvious, and abundant, and they didn’t act on it, it just reveals how political all their investigations are, and that we can’t trust anything they do, because they require so much oversight to get at fundamental truths. Based on the evidence, there is little that can be done to save their reputations. We might get short-term improvements in their performance, but the bottom line is that the government can never have the kind of power that we have given to the FBI and the CIA. Without a doubt, they will abuse that power and, when caught, will deny and manipulate the facts to cover up their crimes. And in the case of Brian Cole Jr., they were complicit, without a doubt.
Bibliography
1. CBS News. “FBI Arrests Suspect in 2021 Pipe Bomb Case.” December 2025.
2. ABC News. “Trump Rally Shooting: What We Know.” July 2024.
3. TRAC Reports. “DOJ Case Processing Statistics.” 2024.
4. Newsweek. “FBI Under Fire for Politicized Delays.” 2025.
5. Columbia Journalism Review. “Media and State: A Symbiotic Relationship.” 2023.
6. Fox News. “CNN Misidentifies Pipe Bomber.” 2025.
(Additional sources: TIME Magazine, FBI Press Releases, The Hill, WABC, DOJ internal memos.)
You know, here’s the thing: if President Trump doesn’t get Tina Peters out of that Colorado prison, then everything we’ve fought for on election integrity is just theater. It’s all optics without substance. Because if you don’t control your election systems, you don’t control your government. And that’s the bottom line. People say, “There’s no evidence of fraud.” Really? Then why is Tina Peters sitting in a cell for nine years? She was the Mesa County Clerk, the one person in Colorado who had the guts to blow the whistle during the heaviest part of the 2020 election scandal. She saw irregularities, she reported them, and for that, they threw her in prison.
Let’s get the facts straight. Tina Peters was convicted in October 2024 on seven counts—four felonies and three misdemeanors—for allegedly breaching election systems during a 2021 update.¹ They said she conspired to commit criminal impersonation, attempted to influence a public servant, and violated her official duties. Nine years in state prison for trying to preserve election records? That’s not justice; that’s retaliation. And where is she now? La Vista Correctional Facility in Pueblo, Colorado, locked away like a political prisoner.²
And don’t forget, she wasn’t alone in this fight. Mike Lindell—the MyPillow guy—stood shoulder to shoulder with her, pouring millions into exposing voting machine companies.³ Steve Bannon and Peter Navarro? They got four months each for contempt of Congress because they wouldn’t play ball with the January 6 narrative.⁴ Rudy Giuliani? Bankrupted for daring to question election results. This is a pattern: punish the whistleblowers, destroy the evidence, and control the narrative.
Now, here’s the legal reality: Trump can’t just sign a pardon and free Tina Peters. Article II of the Constitution gives the president the power to grant pardons for federal crimes, not for state convictions.⁵ Colorado prosecuted her under state law, and Governor Jared Polis isn’t about to hand Trump a win. So what do we do? Sit back and let her rot? Absolutely not. There are practical steps Trump can take, and they start with leverage—political, legal, and financial.
First, a pressure campaign. Trump needs to call out Polis and AG Phil Weiser by name, which he has been doing lately. Make it politically toxic for them to keep Peters locked up. Rallies, Truth Social posts, interviews—turn up the heat. When the public sees a grandmother rotting in prison for questioning election fraud, the optics shift fast.
Second, DOJ leverage. This is where it gets interesting. The Department of Justice can’t override a state conviction, but it can make life very uncomfortable for Colorado. How? Start with federal election law hooks. The 2020 election was a federal election. Peters’ actions were tied to preserving federal election records. File a federal habeas corpus petition arguing her imprisonment violates constitutional rights under federal election statutes like the Help America Vote Act. Force Colorado to defend its conviction in federal court.
Then there’s civil rights enforcement. Frame this as retaliation against a whistleblower exercising First Amendment rights. The DOJ Civil Rights Division can open an investigation into political persecution. Even if it doesn’t overturn her sentence immediately, it creates a legal basis for federal intervention and puts Colorado under a microscope.
Now, here’s the big one: federal funding leverage. Colorado gets millions in federal grants for election security and compliance under HAVA and EAC programs. Those funds are discretionary. Condition future funding on transparency and whistleblower protections. Announce that Colorado risks losing federal election security money because it retaliated against Peters. That’s constitutional under the Spending Clause, and it hits where it hurts—the budget.
Another angle: federal subpoenas and custody transfers. If Peters has evidence relevant to federal crimes—say, election tampering—the DOJ can subpoena her testimony. Request a temporary transfer to federal custody for questioning. That doesn’t erase her sentence, but it moves her out of state prison and into a federal process where deals can happen.
Finally, amplify public awareness. Trump should feature Peters’ case in speeches, rallies, and interviews. Get Mike Lindell, Steve Bannon, and the Warroom team hammering this story every day, give them some red meat. When people see the truth—that Peters was jailed to bury evidence of election fraud—the pressure becomes unbearable. And Trump is naturally good at that kind of thing. But if he’s waiting for help from other Republicans, they don’t have the guts. It will have to come from him, and him alone. The damage from this case will benefit other efforts around the country. Allowing the radical left to control the discussion, as they have, will not help with the Midterms, where Democrats are planning to cheat, because it’s their only strategy. This case could greatly frustrate those efforts.
And let’s talk numbers because facts matter. The Heritage Foundation database lists 1,561 proven cases of election fraud over decades, with 20 cases in 2024 alone.⁶ Brookings says fraud rates are minuscule—0.0000845% in Arizona over 25 years—but those stats ignore systemic vulnerabilities in digital voting systems.⁷ Globally, we know electronic manipulation happens—Venezuela, China, Russia. You give people the illusion of choice, then flip the results. That’s the game. And it happened here in 2020.
So when they say, “There’s no evidence,” what they mean is, “We buried the evidence and jailed the people who had it.” Tina Peters had the proof. She tried to show it. They raided her home, seized her devices, and threw her in prison. That’s tyranny, plain and simple. And if Trump doesn’t act, it sends a message: whistleblowers will be crushed, and election integrity will remain a myth.
Here’s the bottom line: Trump has tools. He can’t wave a magic wand, but he can apply pressure—legal, financial, and political—until Colorado cracks. And he must. Because if we don’t fight for Peters, we don’t fight for honest elections. And without honest elections, we don’t have a republic.
Summary of Key Actions for President Trump
1. Launch a Pressure Campaign
• Publicly call out Colorado Governor Jared Polis and AG Phil Weiser.
• Mobilize grassroots and media to demand Tina Peters’ release.
2. Leverage DOJ Authority
• File federal habeas corpus petitions citing election law violations.
• Open a Civil Rights investigation into political retaliation.
3. Use Federal Funding Leverage
• Condition Colorado’s federal election security funds on transparency and whistleblower protections.
• Publicize potential funding cuts to increase pressure.
4. Subpoena Tina Peters for Federal Testimony
• DOJ can request a temporary transfer to federal custody for testimony related to election integrity.
5. Amplify Public Awareness
• Feature Peters’ case in speeches, rallies, and media appearances.
• Encourage allies like Mike Lindell, Steve Bannon, and WarRoom to keep the story alive; they need red meat to pound away at the base.
This is one of the most critical agenda items for the Trump administration because much remains unsaid. All the horrible things going on in the world with Hamas, China, Russia, Venezuela, and our own domestic money policy that is under siege are nothing compared to the villainy that occurred against Tina Peters. If she is allowed to be held in jail by a corrupt, leftist Democrat government in Colorado, people will lose faith in fighting for an honest election in 2026. And without an honest election, the radical left plans to capture enough seats to impeach Trump and give the government back to the Deep State. So this is a critical time. We need a very vicious pressure campaign that forces this issue on the nightly news, because so far, they have been able to ignore it. Once Trump won the last election, all the hostile forces treated it as a concession to buy a little time. And the Midterms were their target. If Tina Peters is not freed, then Trump will have a hard time holding power, and those who will fight for him will become discouraged. So freeing Tina from jail is a must-do occasion. There is no other option. Yes, there was election fraud in the 2020 election, and those who committed it, numbering in the many thousands, have to be punished for what they did. Otherwise, we don’t have a country.
Bibliography (Chicago Style)
1. Colorado Judicial Branch. “People v. Tina Peters: Sentencing Order.” October 2024.
2. CBS News. “Tina Peters Sentenced to Nine Years in State Prison.” October 2024.
3. Fox News. “Mike Lindell Faces $1 Billion Lawsuit Over Election Claims.” 2023.
4. ABC News. “Steve Bannon, Peter Navarro Sentenced for Contempt of Congress.” 2024.
On a quiet street in Middletown, Ohio, a small house stands as a grim monument to the collapse of a once-thriving community. Behind that house, in a trash bin parked in an alley, police discovered the dismembered remains of Asiah Slone—a woman whose life ended violently in June 2024. Her murder was shocking not only for its brutality but for what it revealed about the social decay festering in America’s forgotten towns. Slone’s death was not an isolated tragedy; it was a symptom of a deeper disease—economic collapse, drug addiction, homelessness, and the erosion of moral and civic order.
The Slone case is a lens into the broader epidemic of violent crime in economically depleted communities. Murders, like Slone’s, are usually prosecuted successfully, but many countless others remain unsolved, creating an illusion of justice—celebrating convictions in high-profile cases—masks a systemic failure to address the conditions that breed violence and what these failures mean for law enforcement, policy, and the future of American society.
Asiah Slone disappeared in late June 2024. For weeks, her absence drew little attention. In neighborhoods hollowed out by poverty and addiction, people vanish often—sometimes to rehab, sometimes to jail, sometimes to the grave. It wasn’t until July 1, when the stench of decomposition led authorities to a trash bin behind a house on Centennial Avenue, that the horror came to light. Inside were Slone’s remains, cut into pieces and stuffed into garbage bags.¹
Investigators quickly focused on Brandon Davis, a 46-year-old man with a long history of drug abuse and petty crime. Witness testimony and forensic evidence revealed that Davis shot Slone in the head while she slept, then ordered Perry Hart, who has an addiction, to finish the job in the basement. Hart complied, firing a second shot to ensure death. Together, they dismembered the body and disposed of it in the alley.²
The motive was depressingly banal: a dispute over stolen items and simmering resentment among a group of people living on society’s margins. Drugs were everywhere. Homelessness was common. Violence was inevitable.³
As grand jury foreman, I signed the indictment that set the case in motion. The prosecutors did their job well, securing a conviction in February 2025. Davis received life without parole for 45 years. Hart pleaded guilty to involuntary manslaughter and kidnapping. Justice, in the narrow sense, was served. But the deeper question remains: What does justice mean in a world where desperation breeds murder, and where countless similar crimes go undetected or unpunished?
Slone’s case was prosecuted because it was apparent. The evidence was overwhelming: a body in a dumpster, confessions, and DNA on the weapon. But what about the murders that leave no such trail? What about the victims whose bodies are never found, or whose killers are careful enough to erase their tracks?
The numbers are sobering. In 1964, the U.S. homicide clearance rate—the percentage of murders solved—was 83.7%. Today, it hovers around 50%.⁴ In 2022, the rate hit a historic low of 52.3%.⁵ Even with slight improvements in 2024, nearly half of all murders in America remain unsolved. In Ohio, the rate is about 64%, meaning one in three killings goes unpunished.⁶
Why? Several factors converge: • Resource Constraints: Police departments are understaffed and underfunded. • Community Distrust: Witnesses fear retaliation or don’t trust law enforcement. • Complexity of Cases: Drug-related killings often involve transient populations and chaotic circumstances. • Legal Barriers: Prosecutors need airtight evidence to avoid wrongful convictions.
The Slone case stands out because it was reckless. The killers left a body in a public alley. They talked. They confessed. Most killers are not so careless. This case is emblematic of a much larger crisis. Across the United States, violent crime statistics reveal a staggering reality. The Bureau of Justice Statistics confirms that more than 250,000 homicides since 1980 remain unsolved. These numbers represent not just data points but shattered families and communities living under the shadow of fear.
Drug epidemics amplify this violence. The CDC reports that fentanyl-related overdose deaths reached 72,776 in 2023, accounting for 69% of all overdose fatalities. DEA intelligence shows cartels dominate fentanyl distribution, sourcing precursors from Chinese suppliers and flooding U.S. streets with synthetic opioids. These networks fuel turf wars, retaliatory killings, and systemic corruption, creating a perfect storm of addiction and violence.
Racial disparities compound the crisis: murders of Black victims are significantly less likely to be solved than those of White victims, according to a 2023 study by the Murder Accountability Project. A lot of that reason is cultural, because of a lack of cooperation in black communities to provide testimony against crime. Police departments face chronic staffing shortages, and under labor union guidelines, paint themselves in corners that don’t match public sentiment all too often, with the International Association of Chiefs of Police reporting a 14% vacancy rate nationwide. Forensic labs struggle with DNA backlogs exceeding 100,000 cases. Community distrust further hampers investigations, as witnesses fear retaliation or lack confidence in the justice system. The overall story on the labor side of crime fighting is that too many employees in the industry are too lazy to do the job, causing serious capacity problems in doing the actual work. So the industry sets the bar low, goes after all the most obvious cases, while many of the real crimes go unreported and unpunished.
The opioid crisis intersects with violent crime in devastating ways. Cartels have diversified beyond narcotics into human trafficking, generating $236 billion annually through forced labor and sexual exploitation. Millions of women and children are entrapped in these networks, often under the same criminal syndicates orchestrating narcotics flows. This duality magnifies humanitarian crises, rendering cartels not merely criminal enterprises but systemic violators of fundamental rights.
Solutions require investment in technology, expansion of cold case units, and robust witness protection programs. Federal funding for violent crime investigations has stagnated, even as homicide rates rise. Legislative initiatives must prioritize improvement in the clearance rate as a metric of justice, not just crime reduction. But the reality of the story is that we have a society that has stopped looking in trash cans. When they smell something bad, they don’t regulate crime in their own communities for fear of that crime coming in their direction. Cops don’t work enough, and the unions frustrate full employee engagement. There aren’t enough volunteer law enforcement efforts. I can say that when I was on the grand jury, I was the top cop of my community for a month. I didn’t get paid, but a minimal amount for the effort. But it was one of the best jobs I ever did, and I was very proud to sign the indictment on Brandon Davis, the murderer of Asiah Slone. I would do that every day for free. So I don’t understand cops who have to go to Walgreens for a tampon run every time they have to work a few hours of overtime. Getting shot at and living dangerously is part of the fun. So I’m not sympathetic to complaining at all. Because the criminals know that the cops really don’t care, that for most of them, it’s just a job. And the courts are only prosecuting the most obvious cases, the easy ones. And the Slone case was an easy one. But one thing is sure in all this, it can’t continue at this rate. Society has to reform at the level of the family, because none of this is working.
The recent shooting of National Guardsmen in Washington, D.C., allegedly by an Afghan national with ties to intelligence networks, underscores a profound ideological divide in American politics. The incident was not merely an act of violence; it became a prism through which competing visions of governance and societal order were revealed. While some sought to frame the tragedy as a consequence of deploying the National Guard—a measure implemented to restore law and order—others attempted to deflect responsibility by invoking narratives of provocation and systemic grievance. This rhetorical maneuver, blaming the presence of security forces for inciting violence, reflects a deeper philosophical orientation rooted in collectivist ideologies that have historically justified chaos as a means to consolidate power. Democrats, like Mark Kelly, who have recently found themselves in a lot of trouble due to attempts at seditious behavior against President Trump’s administration, are showing a much deeper problem with their entire political ideology that traces to ideological roots from the home country of their movement, Chinese communism. And the cannibalistic nature of that country and its general philosophy of life, compared to the West.
Empirical evidence demonstrates that the deployment of the National Guard in Washington, D.C., during periods of heightened unrest significantly reduced crime rates. Under Trump’s administration, violent crime in the District fell by approximately 35% between 2023 and 2024, with homicides declining from a peak of 274—the highest since 2005—to markedly lower levels in subsequent years. Even in 2025, violent crime decreased by an additional 26% compared to the previous year, signaling the deterrent effect of a visible security presence.¹ These figures stand in stark contrast to earlier trends under Democratic leadership, where policy emphasis on police defunding and social work interventions coincided with escalating urban violence.²
The paradox of Democrat lawmakers advocating stringent gun control while privately securing concealed carry permits further illustrates the inconsistency of their position. Representative Anna Paulina Luna recently highlighted that numerous members of Congress, including those who champion restrictive firearm legislation, have obtained permits to carry weapons in the District.³ This duality—publicly opposing individual self-defense while privately embracing it—reveals a pragmatic concession to the realities of urban crime, even as ideological commitments demand the perpetuation of vulnerability among the populace.
To comprehend this contradiction, one must examine the intellectual lineage of collectivist thought. Marxist theory, which informs much of the progressive agenda, posits that individual identity is subordinate to the collective good.⁴ Within this framework, personal sacrifice is valorized as a moral imperative, and systemic inequities are construed as justifications for redistributive violence. The logic underpinning such views is evident in the rhetorical claim that the Afghan assailant’s actions were provoked by the presence of the National Guard—a formulation that shifts culpability from the perpetrator to the state apparatus tasked with maintaining order. This inversion of responsibility is not incidental; it is symptomatic of a worldview that privileges structural explanations over individual accountability.
Historical analogues amplify the gravity of this ideological orientation. During the Great Chinese Famine (1959–1961), precipitated by Mao Zedong’s collectivist policies, an estimated 15 to 55 million people perished.⁵ The obliteration of market mechanisms and private property rights engendered conditions so dire that cannibalism became a widespread survival strategy.⁶ Archival records and eyewitness testimonies recount instances where families consumed the flesh of deceased relatives, and concubines reportedly volunteered for slaughter to sustain their households.⁷ These macabre episodes were not aberrations; they were logical extensions of a system that negated individual sanctity in favor of an abstract communal ideal. The psychological residue of such practices persists in cultural norms that valorize self-abnegation, reinforcing the collectivist axiom that the organism of society supersedes the autonomy of its constituent cells.
The resonance of these historical patterns in contemporary American discourse is disquieting. When policymakers suggest that victims of crime should acquiesce to dispossession for the sake of social harmony, they echo the same moral calculus that sanctioned atrocities under communist regimes. The proposition that one’s property—or even life—may be forfeited to appease the grievances of the marginalized is not merely a policy stance; it is a philosophical commitment to the erasure of individuality. In this schema, the Afghan shooter is transfigured from a culpable agent into a symptom of systemic dysfunction, and the act of violence becomes an indictment of order rather than chaos.
Such reasoning is inimical to the principles of a constitutional republic. The sanctity of individual rights, enshrined in the American political tradition, is antithetical to the collectivist dogma that animates these apologetics. To capitulate to narratives that rationalize violence as a byproduct of structural inequity is to invite the dissolution of civil society. The deployment of the National Guard, far from constituting a provocation, represented an affirmation of the state’s obligation to safeguard its citizens—a function that cannot be abdicated without imperiling the very foundations of governance.
The Afghan shooter incident is not an isolated tragedy; it is a harbinger of the ideological contest that will define the trajectory of American democracy. The attempt to reframe culpability, the oscillation between public disarmament and private armament, and the invocation of systemic grievance as exculpation—all bespeak a worldview that esteems the collective over the individual. History admonishes us that such a worldview, when operationalized, engenders not utopia but barbarism. The cannibalistic horrors of Maoist China are not relics of a distant past; they are cautionary tales inscribed in the ledger of human folly. To ignore these lessons is to court a future in which the logic of sacrifice metastasizes from metaphor to corporeal reality. And that is what Democrats are proposing for our society when they speak of defunding the police, or yielding to crime with chaos, and in suggesting that gun control should be a priority when crime is used to perpetuate their power through fear by the ruthless and aggressive. They want the crime because they literally feed off it.
I was eating with some friends the other day at a nice Chinese restaurant buffet in West Chester, Ohio, that had a lot of great options. I reminded everyone that all this nice food would not be typical in China. In China, they actually eat just about anything that moves: dogs, cats, turtles, moms and dads, and body parts. In most places in the world, where collectivist politics reside, the food is not as sanitized from the violence behind death as you will find in Chinese restaurants in the United States. The standard of individualized thought is enough to affect how we eat. Let alone process government functions. But make no mistake about it, if it were up to the Mark Kellys of the world and their seditious function as communist insurgents, they would drive a society into cannibalism because that is the unspoken party platform. They represent in America the Great Leap Forward that all academic leftists in the world, and especially in America, have been yearning for. They aren’t trying to preserve society. They are trying to eat it and gain the power of their enemies from the literal consumption of flesh and the destruction of the living. And the Afghan terrorist, Rahmanullah Lakanwal, who shot the two D.C. National Guard members just a block away from the White House, serves their aims at the destruction of society for the consumption of its contents, just as their home country of China would be very proud of.
The Butler County 2026 primary election is shaping up to be one of the most consequential political battles in recent memory. For years, local politics have simmered under the surface, but now, with Cindy Carpenter’s long tenure as commissioner under scrutiny, the stakes couldn’t be higher. This isn’t just another election—it’s a referendum on leadership, accountability, and the future direction of Butler County. And when it mattered most, how did Cindy Carpenter present herself? Well, she flipped off everyone in a wild, out-of-control tirade that could have easily been avoided, showing the world that what people say about her behind closed doors is actually true. When everyone was out of the room at the Level 27 apartment complex at Miami University, we saw on camera what Cindy Carpenter thinks of people who disagree with her. [1]
As the Journal-News reported, witnesses described the scene as ‘shocking and unbecoming of an elected official,’ noting that Carpenter was visibly angry and used gestures that ‘crossed the line of professionalism.’ [1] One resident quoted in the article said, ‘We expect leaders to solve problems, not escalate them.’ These words echo what many voters already feel: that Carpenter’s behavior reflects a deeper problem of temperament and judgment.
Cindy Carpenter has held her seat for a long time, and with that longevity comes a confident expectation of stability and integrity. Unfortunately, recent events have cast a long shadow over her reputation. For years, whispers of her being a ‘RINO’—Republican In Name Only—have circulated among grassroots conservatives. Those whispers turned into shouts last year when she was caught openly campaigning for a Democrat in Middletown. For a commissioner in a county that prides itself on conservative values, this was more than a lapse in judgment—it was a betrayal of trust. At the time, she was the endorsed Republican commissioner, and she showed tremendous disrespect for that endorsement. As one Journal-News editorial put it, ‘Carpenter’s actions raise serious questions about her loyalty to the party and her constituents.’ [2]
Cindy Carpenter, at her best
But if that weren’t enough, another controversy erupted that speaks volumes about character and temperament. A video surfaced from a security camera at an apartment complex where a family member of Carpenter—reported as her daughter by some, her granddaughter by others—was facing eviction for unpaid rent. Instead of handling the matter privately and with grace, Carpenter was caught on camera engaging in a heated argument and flipping off someone during the dispute. This isn’t the behavior of a seasoned leader; it’s the optics of chaos, entitlement, and poor judgment. When you’re an incumbent fighting to keep your seat, the last thing you want is to look like an overbearing parent abusing influence to protect a relative. [3]
Michael Ryan, one of Carpenter’s challengers, issued a press release shortly after the incident, stating: ‘The people of Butler County deserve leaders who act with dignity and respect, even in difficult situations. What we saw on that video does not reflect those values.’ [4] Ryan’s statement went further, pledging to ‘restore trust and transparency in county government’ and to ‘end the cycle of favoritism and dysfunction.’ These are not just campaign slogans—they are commitments grounded in a vision for better governance.
Ryan’s involvement in the Spooky Nook Sports Complex development showcased his ability to think big and deliver results. In his press release, he reminded voters of that success: ‘When others said it couldn’t be done, we brought stakeholders together and made it happen. That’s the kind of leadership Butler County needs.’ [4]
Contrast that with Roger Reynolds, another challenger in this race. While Reynolds may present himself as a viable alternative, his baggage is well-documented. From ethical questions to controversies that have dogged his career, Reynolds represents the kind of old-guard politics that Butler County needs to move beyond. Supporting Reynolds would be a step backward—a return to the same entrenched interests that have stifled progress for years. As Michael Moser commented in a recent interview, ‘We cannot afford to recycle the same problems under a different name.’ [5]
This primary isn’t just about personalities; it’s about the future of Butler County. Will voters choose a path of renewal and accountability, or will they cling to incumbency and compromise? Carpenter’s recent behavior suggests a leader out of touch with her constituents’ values and expectations. Ryan, on the other hand, embodies the principles of transparency, collaboration, and forward momentum.
Michael Ryan and his wife, Amanda. A fresh start without the baggage for Butler County
As we approach May 2026, the choice is very clear. Butler County deserves leadership that reflects its best qualities—not the worst impulses of entitlement and political expediency. Cindy Carpenter’s controversies aren’t just unfortunate—they’re disqualifying. Michael Ryan offers a better way forward, and for those who care about the integrity and prosperity of this community, the time to act is now. And this isn’t just an opportunity to talk about Michael Ryan, or to re-assess the Roger Reynolds case, but Cindy should have known better. The impaired judgment alone should be enough to eliminate her from the job now, without even waiting for the primary to be over. When you walk into an apartment complex and communicate with people who work with students at a college or university, and you end up turning the whole room against you, which is clearly the case when she finally did leave, which was seen on camera, it’s a lack of skill thing more than any other attribute. Whether or not Cindy Carpenter abused her authority, depending on who’s telling the story, what we did see was what she does when nobody is looking. Being in a public place and giving the finger to employees of a business in anger is irrational at best. We need people who build relationships, not those who can turn entire groups of people against them. Dealing with this apartment payment issue with cash in hand should have been easy, and for anybody who does business at a high level, she should have had much better command of the situation. But instead, she only confirmed what all her critics have said about her and showed why politicians can be so dangerous. On the one hand, they put on a happy face, but when they think no one is looking, they flip people off when they fail to convince them to listen to reason. A good negotiator never does something like this. They should be, at a high level of politics, skilled in negotiations. Because Cindy has been caught on camera doing really dumb things as a politician many times, I am excited to have someone like Michael Ryan running for a commissioner seat. When we talk about the need for fresh, new faces in government, it’s because of failures like Cindy Carpenter that we make the statement. And there is only one person to blame; this isn’t dirty politics or a gotcha to harm Cindy out of some sense of unfairness. She walked into this buzzsaw, willingly on her own accord. And she wasn’t even smart enough to be careful in a public place full of cameras. So when we talk about these offices and who should be in them, no matter who is voting, I think we can all agree, that we need someone in an important office that doesn’t give young people the finger at a very public apartment complex when trying to resolve a family members back payment on rent, all events that could have been handled, much, much, better.
References: [1] Journal-News, ‘Video Shows Cindy Carpenter in Heated Exchange at Apartment Complex,’ 2025. [2] Journal-News Editorial, ‘Carpenter’s Campaign Misstep Raises Questions,’ 2024. [3] Security Footage Report, Level 27 Apartments, Miami University, 2025. [4] Michael Ryan Campaign Press Release, ‘Restoring Trust in Butler County,’ 2025. [5] Interview with Michael Moser, Butler County GOP Leadership Forum, 2025.
The Overmanwarrior 