No, I Don’t Cook: The state of marriage in the world

To answer the most asked question I get during the holidays, no, I don’t cook. My wife does. That’s not a joke, it’s a commitment we made in 1988 when we married young and chose a traditional family on purpose. I mow the grass, fix the cars, bring home the apples; she turns them into pie. That division of labor has kept our household steady for nearly four decades, and every year the same eyebrows go up from people who ask those kinds of questions—“You can’t say that.” Of course I can. We built our marriage like a small business with roles we both wanted, not roles assigned by a committee of strangers. And when someone tries to question our deal at the family gatherings over the years, I keep a poker face, and stay civil and nice—but I remember. My wife remembers too: I had an aunt once who took her to lunch to lecture her on feminism, the in-laws who offered social pressure in progressive wrapping paper, the yearly chorus of “help with the dishes or else.” We pushed back not to score points, but to defend something we knew was worth protecting.

What’s funny—what’s tragic, really—is how much social commentary people will smuggle into a question around stuffing and cranberry sauce. Behind the small talk lives a theory of marriage: some think roles should be erased; we think roles should be agreed upon. I believe in complementary strengths. And I don’t belittle the cook; I admire the work my wife does in our family, she is 100% committed in ways that are nearly gone these days. She’s made possible the work I do when most people are sleeping, because the clothes are clean, the house runs well, and a hot plate finds its way to my chair in the middle of the night. You want to know how I read so much, write so much, keep so many projects moving? It starts with the dinner that arrives without me asking.

Now, if we’re going to talk about how marriages actually fare, let’s invite the numbers into the room. The United States logged 2,041,926 marriages in 2023—about 6.1 per 1,000 people—and 672,502 divorces across 45 reporting states and D.C., roughly 2.4 per 1,000. That’s the official snapshot, and it tells you something simple: marriages rebounded from the pandemic dip, and divorces keep drifting down from their 1980s peak. 1 2 If you prefer measures that adjust for who’s actually at risk, Bowling Green State University’s National Center for Family & Marriage Research (NCFMR) puts the 2023 refined divorce rate at 14.4 divorces per 1,000 married women, slightly down from 2022; some analysts saw it nudge lower again in 2024. The refined marriage rate for women in 2023 held around 31.5 per 1,000 unmarried women. Translate that: fewer divorces relative to the number married, and a stable likelihood of marriage among those unmarried. 3 4

Of course, national averages flatten out the geography. In 2023, Utah had the highest refined marriage rate (49 marriages per 1,000 unmarried women), while Louisiana and Delaware were near the bottom; for divorce, Alaska had the highest rate and Vermont the lowest, with the U.S. at 14.4 overall. That’s culture, economics, and age composition all doing their dance. 4 3

And how long do marriages last? The federal government no longer publishes fine-grained duration tables the way it once did, but the NSFG’s event histories and Census reports paint enough of the outline: the median age at first marriage has climbed to historic highs—about 30.2 for men and 28.4 for women in 2023—meaning couples enter marriage later, after more schooling and work. Later marriages tend to be more stable than teen marriages, and the divorce hazards have shifted more toward economic stress and mismatched expectations than any single “traditional vs. egalitarian” switch. 5 6

If you step back and trace the arc since the mid-20th century, the significant facts are now old facts: we marry later, we marry less often, and divorce rates (by multiple measures) are lower than they were at their peak. OECD cross-national data puts the crude marriage rate for many wealthy countries between 3 and 5 per 1,000 today; the U.S. is higher than most at around 6, but it’s still far below the 1970s. Pandemic disruptions knocked weddings down in 2020, and they bounced back in 2021–2023. 7 8

The household story is equally stark: fewer than half of U.S. households today are married‑couple households. That was 78.8% after World War II; it’s been under half since 2010. Does that mean marriage is dead? The cost of progressive lifestyles really starts to show here. Our living arrangements have diversified, and a growing share of adults delay or forgo marriage—and often cohabit instead. 9 10 Pew’s longer view shows that most Americans now find cohabitation acceptable, even for couples who don’t plan to marry, though a majority still believes the country is better off if long-term couples eventually marry. Cohabitation has grown across age groups; by 2022, roughly 9% of Americans ages 18–64 were cohabiting at a point in time, up from 7.8% a decade earlier, with the highest shares in the late 20s. 11 12

Does all that mean traditional marriage is disappearing? It’s more honest to say we’re in a sorting era. The median age at first marriage rose; remarriage fell; and the marriage share is increasingly concentrated among the college-educated and the religiously observant in certain regions. NCFMR shows the remarriage rate declining steadily since 2008—down to about 34.4 per 1,000 previously‑married men and 18.5 for women in 2023—suggesting fewer second chances through formal vows and more cohabitation after divorce. 13

And yet, under all the trends, the old expectations haven’t entirely vanished. A widely cited study in American Sociological Review found that in marriages formed after 1975, a husband’s lack of full-time employment predicts higher divorce risk, while a wife’s full-time employment does not—evidence that the breadwinner norm still carries weight even as homemaking expectations for wives have softened. 14 Another line of research argues that when partners’ gender norms clash—when the meaning of “husband” and “wife” isn’t mutually agreed—marriage becomes both more complicated to form and easier to break. That’s not ideology; it’s matching theory with real data on cohorts and states. 15

Once you admit the obvious—that marriage is a covenant built on agreements—my answer about holiday cooking stops sounding provocative and starts sounding like governance. The deal in our house is clear and cherished. We never outsourced it to a trend line or surrendered it to an aunt with a pamphlet. And when the holiday question lands, I hear the undertone: “Are you compliant with the new code?” No, we’re compliant with our vows. That choice has paid dividends in steadiness, in output, in the way we raise children and grandchildren, and yes, in sanity.

Around the globe, OECD figures show crude marriage rates clustered around the 4‑per‑1,000 mark with wide variance, and Our World in Data summarizes the broad pattern: most rich countries see later marriage, fewer marriages, and a decoupling of marriage from childbearing. In lower-income regions, median marriage ages are younger and formal rates are higher, but there’s intense regional variety, and progress on ending child marriage remains uneven and far too slow. 7 16 17

Where does that leave the “traditional marriage comeback”? In the U.S., there’s no sudden surge in crude marriage rates; what we do see is a stabilization post-pandemic, a continued decline in divorce rates, and a concentration of marriage among those who treat it as a purposeful life strategy rather than an automatic milestone. Whether a couple chooses entirely traditional roles, fully egalitarian roles, or something bespoke for their house, the risk lies in misalignment—pressure from outside to reshape the inside. What saves a marriage is consented clarity. My wife and I made ours long ago, and we’ve maintained it against polite frowns and impolite lectures. I didn’t ask the world to bless that agreement, and I certainly didn’t give the world veto power over it. The results, measured by the calendar and the calm of a well-run home, speak for themselves.

So, no, I don’t cook at Christmas, Thanksgiving, or ever. She cooks, I carry the burdens outside the house, and the house hums. If the conversation at the table drifts toward social engineering, I smile and let the numbers do the talking: later marriages, fewer divorces, more cohabitation, fewer married‑couple households, and a stubborn breadwinner signal that hasn’t lost its force. You can read those trends as doom or as instruction; I read them as proof that the marriages that last are the ones grounded in agreed roles, mutual respect, and a united front against outside manipulation. That’s our holiday recipe. It’s kept us going for 37 winters, and it works. And always remember, advice is only as good as the people giving it. And most people aren’t qualified to give it.

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Notes & Sources (selected)

• U.S. marriages and divorces (2023): 2,041,926 marriages; 6.1 per 1,000 population; 672,502 divorces across 45 reporting states and D.C.; 2.4 per 1,000. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), NCHS FastStats & NVSS tables. 1 2

• Refined rates: NCFMR refined divorce rate ~14.4 (2023) and refined marriage rate ~31.5 (2023); state variation (Utah high marriage, Alaska high divorce). 3 4

• Median age at first marriage (U.S., 2023–2024): ~30.2 men, ~28.4 women; historical series since 1890. U.S. Census (MS‑2) and NCFMR profiles. 6 5

• Married‑couple household share under 50%; historical peak ~78.8% (1949). Census & USAFacts syntheses. 9 10

• Cohabitation attitudes and prevalence: Pew Research Center (2019) and NCFMR (2012–2022 CPS analysis). 11 12

• Remarriage decline (2008–2023): NCFMR Family Profile on remarriage rates. 13

• Breadwinner signal & divorce risk: Alexandra Killewald, American Sociological Review (2016). 14

• Gender‑norm conflict and marital outcomes: Antman, Kalsi, Lee, Journal of Demographic Economics (2021). 15

• OECD cross‑national marriage/divorce comparisons & COVID disruption: OECD Family Database & documentation; Our World in Data. 7 8

• Global institution change overview: Our World in Data’s “Marriages and Divorces.” 16

• Child marriage progress & pace to elimination: UNICEF Data brief (2023). 17

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Annotated Bibliography

• CDC/NCHS – FastStats: Marriage and Divorce. U.S. nationwide counts and crude rates for marriages and divorces; latest provisional (2023). Clear definitions and coverage notes about non-reporting states for divorce. 1

• CDC/NVSS – National Marriage & Divorce Rate Trends (2000–2023). Historical tables showing year-by-year changes in crude marriage and divorce rates, with footnotes on state coverage. 2

• NCFMR (Bowling Green State University) – Refined Marriage & Divorce Rates (2023). ACS-based indicators that adjust for the population at risk; state maps and margins of error. Essential for understanding geographic variation and trends beyond crude rates. 4 3

• U.S. Census – Historical Marital Status Tables (MS‑1 & MS‑2). Extended‑run time series on marital status and median age at first marriage. Useful for context on age trends and the shrinking share of married adults. 6

• USAFacts – “How has marriage in the US changed over time?” (2025). Synthesizes Census series into digestible charts on age at first marriage and household composition; suitable for communicating to general audiences. 10

• Pew Research Center – “Marriage and Cohabitation in the U.S.” (2019). Attitudes and experiences around living together; relationship satisfaction comparisons; long-term shifts in cohabitation acceptance. 11

• NCFMR – “A Decade of Change in Cohabitation Across Age Groups: 2012 & 2022” (2024). CPS-based point-in-time prevalence by age; growth concentrated in late‑20s cohorts. 12

• NCFMR – “Remarriage Rate, 2023” (2025). ACS event counts and rates documenting the decline of remarriage across sexes and ages. 13

• Killewald (2016) – “Money, Work, and Marital Stability” (ASR). Panel Study of Income Dynamics analysis distinguishing economic resources from role signals: the persistent effect of male full-time employment on stability. 14

• Antman, Kalsi, Lee (2021) – “Gender norm conflict and marital outcomes” (JDE). Theory and evidence on how norm mismatch reduces marriage formation and increases fragility. 15

• OECD Family Database – SF3.1 Marriage and Divorce Rates. International comparisons of crude rates, mean age at first marriage, and pandemic‑era disruptions; handy Excel annexes. 7

• Our World in Data – “Marriages and Divorces” & grapher for marriage rates. Broad global synthesis with interactive charts; connects U.S. trends to wider patterns. 16 8

• UNICEF Data – “Is an End to Child Marriage within Reach?” (2023). Global progress and uneven pace; regional concentration and projected timelines. 17

Rich Hoffman

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

Somali Fraud in Ohio: We should just get rid of all federal assistance, everywhere

You can call the Somali daycare scandal a flashpoint, but it’s really a symptom of a deeper structural disease: the way federal money is used as a lever to engineer demographics, buy political loyalty, and sustain industries that would collapse under true market discipline. Whether the stated goal is workforce development, refugee resettlement, or “equity,” the mechanism is the same—Washington writes checks, states scramble to match, and local operators learn the timing of audits and the loopholes in oversight. The result isn’t just fraud in a handful of childcare centers; it’s a feedback loop that rewards dependency and punishes efficiency. Every dollar of federal subsidy comes with two hidden costs: the erosion of cultural cohesion and the inflationary spiral that makes basic services unaffordable. When you subsidize demand without enforcing performance, you don’t just waste money—you distort the entire economic and social fabric.

Multiply that pattern across every sector federal money touches. Public education? Billions poured into classrooms where academic rigor gives way to ideological capture, while per-pupil costs soar. Healthcare? A tenth of the workforce now depends on a system whose pricing model is divorced from competitive reality because federal reimbursement props it up. Infrastructure? Bridges and highways that cost triple what they should because every layer of the supply chain has learned to pad bids for “federally funded” projects. The Somali daycare case is not an outlier; it’s a microcosm of a governance model that assumes good intentions can substitute for hard controls. Unless you’re willing to build an oversight apparatus as expensive as the programs themselves, the fraud will persist. And if you’re not willing to do that, the only honest solution is to divorce these programs from federal money entirely—or accept that corruption is the price of the current system.

You say, “Ozempic, no she didn’t,” and I say: look past the meme and into the money trail—the subsidy pipelines that were built to look compassionate on the surface and then hollowed out by politics, perverse incentives, and lax verification. That’s the frame. Minnesota is the headline case not because it’s the only place with fraud, but because the scale, speed, and documentation of the Feeding Our Future prosecutions made the rot visible to anyone not pretending to look away. Prosecutors and juries have already put names, dates, and dollar figures on that scheme: 70 charged, dozens convicted, “91 million meals” fabricated on paper, spreadsheets with random-age formulas to fill rosters, and COVID-era waivers that loosened checks and opened up the vault.¹ ² ³ ⁴ 1 2 3 4

But Minnesota’s story is not just the kids-meal program. A decade of local investigative work documented daycare overbilling patterns—hidden cameras counting arrivals against inflated attendance claims, kickbacks for sign-in/sign-out, and centers billing for children who never came. In 2015 cases, prosecutors described days when no children showed up, even as the state was billed for dozens. Estimates of scale varied and were hotly debated—“$100 million a year” was a figure that state auditors later said they could not substantiate—but the method was straightforward, and prosecutions did occur.⁵ ⁶ ⁷ 5 6 5

Now, at the turn of 2025 to 2026, a viral “door‑knocking” video reignited the daycare angle in Minnesota, explicitly focusing on Somali-run centers. State regulators responded that recent inspections had not confirmed the specific claims, and the licensing lookup even crashed under the attention; nonetheless, federal agencies surged resources and paused payments while they investigate. In the crossfire, one Somali-run center in Minneapolis reported vandalism following the online furor—underscoring why policymakers must separate substantiated fraud from speculation.⁸ ⁹ ¹⁰ 7 8 9

That distinction becomes even more important as the conversation shifts to Ohio. Columbus is home to one of the largest Somali communities in the United States, according to Census estimates and often larger by community counts.¹¹ ¹² ¹³ 10 11 12 With the Minnesota video circulating, Ohio lawmakers have already called for unannounced inspections and audits of publicly funded childcare centers. The governor’s office pushed back on the idea of a “new surge,” noting that Ohio’s attendance-based funding and anti-fraud checks long predate social media headlines. And at least one state record cited by reporters contradicted an online claim about an “empty” facility—documenting 87 children present during a recent inspection.¹⁴ ¹⁵ ¹⁶ 13 14 15

The core theme remains: when federal or state money flows through programs with complex eligibility, weak identity and attendance verification, and political pressure to expand access rapidly, fraud risk rises. Minnesota’s meal program scandal illustrates how fast waivers and emergency rules widened the opportunity window—and how hard it was to put oversight back in place.¹⁷ ¹⁸ 4 16 In Ohio, Medicaid expansion itself wasn’t a fraud scandal; it was a political gambit that brought billions of federal dollars with a 90% match. Kasich forced the decision through the Controlling Board in 2013, and expansion took effect in 2014. Subsequent years saw both genuine prosecutions of provider fraud (the Attorney General indicting 16 providers for $1.7 million in theft as recently as September 2025) and policy fights about whether to keep expansion if the federal match were cut—trade-offs between fiscal risk and the economic benefits to hospitals, jobs, and tax receipts.¹⁹ ²⁰ ²¹ ²² 17 18 19 20

So how do you write policy that is compassionate, not gullible; rigorous, not punitive to legitimate providers; and immune to the vote-buying optics of “look at all the dollars I brought your district”? Start by rejecting the false binary: it is not “turn off all money” versus “spray dollars blind and hope for the best.” The path forward is the unglamorous build-out of program integrity—identity, attendance, payments, and audits—with the political will to let real-time controls veto the ribbon-cutting ceremony.

Attendance that counts. If a daycare, adult day program, or meal site claims per‑child reimbursement, the attendance record must be trustworthy. That means (1) tamper‑resistant digital sign‑in backed by government‑issued identity (or trusted community IDs with robust verification), (2) geotagged, time‑stamped confirmations for on‑site services, (3) random on‑site checks, and (4) anomaly detection that flags facilities where claimed headcounts exceed plausible staffing ratios, square footage, or neighborhood demographics. Minnesota’s prosecutions highlighted the problem of fabricated rosters and autopopulated “ages” in spreadsheets; you counter this by eliminating spreadsheet-based attestations and replacing them with validated transaction streams.²³ ²⁴ 3 2

Payments that pause when signals fire. Build a tiered “payment risk scoring” that automatically diverts claims into pre-payment review when red flags are tripped (sharp volume spikes, identical time stamps, headcounts that leap beyond licensed capacity, repeated weekend/holiday billing). Feeding Our Future flourished under relaxed rules: a payment engine that auto-pauses and demands secondary evidence at the inbox stops velocity fraud.²⁵ ²⁶ 4 16

Licensing that measures utilization, not paperwork. Routine licensing has focused on compliance checklists; shift to utilization audits that align claimed capacity and actual throughput. Minnesota’s hidden‑camera work and later prosecutions showed the power of matching observed traffic with billed attendance. Ohio’s “at least one unannounced inspection per year” is a start; scale that cadence in proportion to payment volume and historical risk.¹⁵ ²⁷ 13 5

Separating verified fraud from community scapegoating. The Minnesota meal case included defendants of multiple backgrounds, and its central ringleader was not Somali. Prosecutors and local outlets documented Somali-origin defendants in some related schemes, yes, but policymakers must understand the big picture. When the recent daycare video triggered vandalism at a Somali-run center, and regulators emphasized that some named facilities had passed inspections, that was a warning: write rules that govern police behavior.⁸ ¹⁰ ²⁸ 9 7 8

Politics: disincentivize the “show me the headcount” press release. Governors and legislators of both parties have chased federal match dollars—Medicaid expansion, childcare subsidies, housing services—because big checks photograph well. Ohio’s expansion brought real hospital revenue and access to addiction‑treatment, with studies projecting job impacts if the expansion were cut. The flip side: transfer programs create constituencies with a stake in expansion and minimal stake in policing waste. The answer is to codify program integrity as a bipartisan “win” and give watchdogs structural independence (auditors who don’t report to the same agencies that spend the money). Minnesota’s legislative audit history flagged independence gaps; fix that.²⁹ ²⁰ ³⁰ 6 19 21

Concrete legislative package for Ohio (and exportable anywhere):

1. Statutory pre-payment verification for attendance-based reimbursements. Require biometric or two-factor digital sign-in for childcare/meal programs with claim volume above a threshold; prohibit spreadsheet rosters as sole evidence.²³ 3

2. Scaled unannounced inspections. Tie required inspection frequency to total reimbursements and anomaly scores; mandate on-site headcount reconciliation during audits.¹⁵ 13

3. Independent Program Integrity Office. Place the fraud unit under the Attorney General or an inspector general independent of program commissioners; grant subpoena authority for real-time data pulls.²⁹ 6

4. Provider transparency. Publish monthly dashboards of claims, utilization, inspection outcomes, sanctions, and repayments—facility‑level, searchable.

5. Federal match guardrails without cliff effects. Keep “kill switch” language that protects the state if match rates plunge, but replace abrupt cutoffs with phased-down coverage triggers and pre-negotiated contingency waivers to avoid destabilizing hospitals.²¹ ²² 19 20

6. Whistleblower incentives and protections. Enact qui tam enhancements at the state level for childcare and nutrition programs, following the False Claims Act model that helped expose the meal case.²⁵ 4

7. Cross-program identity resolution. Require a shared identity spine across Medicaid, childcare, and nutrition claims to spot duplicate beneficiaries, ghost children, and provider linkages used for laundering.

8. Community‑neutral enforcement. Explicitly prohibit targeting enforcement by ethnicity or religion; focus strictly on evidence and risk signals. Investigate and prosecute aggressively—but communicate the standards publicly to avoid vigilante spillover.⁸ ¹⁰ 9 7

Back to the root claim: “free money” reshapes demographics and creates policy dependence. Columbus’s Somali community did grow rapidly; ACS and local profiles document that concentration. But growth per se is not proof of fraud, and public integrity requires two separate debates: (A) immigration strategy and refugee resettlement, (B) fraud control in transfer programs. When we blur them, we get bad policy and ugly politics. Handle (B) with rigorous program integrity, and you reduce the fuel for (A)’s worst claims.¹¹ ¹³ 10 12

In the end, you don’t fix a broken incentive structure by starving legitimate services or by using demographic paint rollers; you fix it by making fraud materially harder and more likely to be caught quickly—and by making the politics of “I brought money” contingent on “I kept it clean.” Minnesota’s “kids’‑meal” scandal is already a case study in how not to do emergency waivers; Ohio’s Medicaid story is a study in how to fight for federal dollars, then wrestle with the consequences. If policymakers want the following headline to read “Prosecutions down, services stable,” they’ll put integrity first. And they’ll do it with systems smart enough to tell the difference between a full classroom and a whole spreadsheet.

All that sounds like a lot of money, and it is. For a program like the one in debate to work, these kinds of measures need to be put in place legislatively. But as we do it, we have to ask ourselves why we should in the first place. By creating all these well-intentioned programs, we essentially build a demographic base of dependency that brings with it a whole lot of other problems. Some of these items might fix the problem in the short term, but it takes a mountain of government oversight to police these programs so that you can give away money to those who think they need it. Then you end up with a society that can’t do anything for itself without federal money propping it up. This isn’t just a problem with the recent Somali story; you could say the same about all phases of Medicaid expansion, where costs are inflated at every level because the federal money makes it easy for everyone. Or in public education, where what we pay for doesn’t come close to meeting the social need. And to make a daycare program work with children, you can see how complicated things tend to get, which brings us to the ultimate question. Is any of it worth doing at all? And I think the preponderance of evidence says no. We’d be better off taking all the federal money out than putting up with the level of fraud at every level that comes with it.

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Footnotes

1. Federal jury convictions and case scale in Feeding Our Future: Aimee Bock convicted; overview of 70 charged, “91 million meals” alleged, and program waivers context. 1 2

2. IRS criminal investigation press release detailing random-age spreadsheet formula; guilty plea context. 3

3. FBI/DOJ tallies of indictments and convictions; waiver environment noted. 4

4. KARE 11 coverage compendium from 2022–2025. 8

5. FOX9 decade-of-fraud overview; hidden camera counts vs. billed attendance. 5

6. American Experiment’s 2019 analysis of CCAP fraud allegations and OLA audit dynamics. 6

7. Legislative Auditor statements about inability to corroborate the $100M estimate; prosecutions noted. 5

8. Report of vandalism at Somali-run daycare following viral video. 9

9. Licensing inspections and regulator responses amid viral claims. 7

10. KARE 11’s “full coverage” page noting investigation status and breadth. 8

11. Franklin County/Columbus Somali population estimates (ACS-based). 10

12. ACS program overview and data tools (for policymakers to pull local tables). 11

13. Community estimate commentary (Columbus Somali Community Project / UPG North America). 12

14. Ohio lawmaker letters for inspections; statutory unannounced inspection baseline. 13

15. Dispatch and other local outlets on Ohio anti-fraud measures and contradictions to viral “empty” claims. 14 15

16. Additional local reporting on calls for investigation. 22

17. Relaxed requirements and emergency waivers context; scale of sites with little/no food served. 4

18. Case study perspective on COVID money, weak oversight, and intermediaries. 16

19. Ohio Controlling Board approval and expansion launch (2013–2014). 17

20. Ohio AG prosecutions of Medicaid provider fraud (2025). 18

21. Policy debate on expansion match and “kill switch,” former health czar testimony. 19

22. Economic modeling of job and revenue impacts if the expansion ended. 20

23. Specific fraud methods (fabricated attendance; spreadsheet formulas). 3

24. Prosecutors’ description of fake rosters and claimed headcounts. 2

25. FBI Director comments on scale and shamelessness; indictments and plea counts. 4

26. Overview of waiver-driven vulnerabilities in the meal program. 16

27. Historical use of hidden cameras and utilization vs. billing audits in Minnesota daycare cases. 5

28. Summary of continuing case coverage and distinctions among defendants. 8

29. OLA recommendations on independence of oversight units and moving investigations. 6

30. Scholarly overview of Ohio’s Medicaid expansion politics. 21

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Bibliography (for policymakers & staff)

• MPR News. “Feeding Our Future’s head Aimee Bock convicted on all fraud charges.” March 19, 2025. 1

• St. Cloud Times / USA TODAY Network. “What we know about the Feeding Our Future Minnesota Covid fraud scheme.” March 20, 2025. 2

• IRS Criminal Investigation. “Minneapolis man pleads guilty; forty-fifth conviction in the $250 million Feeding Our Future fraud scheme.” March 24, 2025. 3

• FOX News. “45 convicted in massive $250M COVID-era scam…” July 18, 2025. (Context on waivers and scale.) 4

• KARE 11. “Full coverage: Feeding Our Future fraud scheme.” Ongoing compendium, updated Dec. 5, 2025. 8

• FOX9 Investigators. “Through the years: A decade of investigating fraud in Minnesota.” Dec. 29, 2025. 5

• Center of the American Experiment. “Child care welfare fraud.” Spring 2019. (Discusses OLA and CCAP.) 6

• FOX9 / Fox News Digital. “Minnesota childcare fraud scandal sparks questions…” Dec. 30, 2025. 7

• FOX9. “Somali-run daycare in Minneapolis broken into, vandalized.” Dec. 31, 2025. 9

• Ohio NBC4 (WCMH). “Ohio lawmaker calls for investigation into Columbus‑area childcare facilities.” Dec. 30–31, 2025. 13

• Columbus Dispatch (via St. Cloud Times syndication). “Somali day care allegations prompt demand for Ohio fraud probe.” Dec. 31, 2025. 14

• Cleveland.com. “Ohio GOP lawmakers demand daycare investigation, but viral claims appear dubious.” Dec. 2025. 15

• KFF Health News Morning Briefing. “Ohio Board OKs Medicaid Expansion, Lawsuits Loom.” Oct. 22, 2013. 17

• Ohio Attorney General Dave Yost. “16 Medicaid Providers Facing Fraud, Theft Charges.” Sept. 16, 2025. 18

• Health Policy Institute of Ohio. “Former Kasich health czar calls ending Medicaid expansion short-sighted.” March 21, 2025 (news brief referencing Toledo Blade). 19

• Statehouse News Bureau (Ohio). “Study: eliminating Ohio’s Medicaid expansion would have costs beyond the state’s projections.” July 25, 2025. 20

• ACS / Census.gov. “American Community Survey Data tools and tables.” (How to pull local demographic estimates.) 11

• Neilsberg Insights. “Somali Population in Franklin County, OH by City: 2025 Ranking & Insights.” Oct. 1, 2025. 10

• UPG North America. “Somalis in the Columbus Metropolitan Area.” (Community estimates and context.) 12

• Journal of Health Politics, Policy and Law (Duke University Press). “Medicaid Expansion: A Tale of Two Governors.” Oct. 2016. (Comparative state politics.) 23

Rich Hoffman

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

Marijuana Use at the High Place of Tel Arad, Israel: The problem with legalizing communication with inter-dimensional entities

I promised more context for why I hate the legalization of marijuana so much, and in the case of mass society, intoxicants. It’s not enough to say that drugs should be illegal; people need to understand why. And for me, it’s a battle of consciousness and who controls your thoughts. How can people, for instance, fight for small government and the benefits of an intelligent republic, but then surrender all thought through intoxication over to other forces that invade your personal sovereignty, and the most important at that, our minds and the thoughts that those minds produce? When smoke filled the air of an inner sanctum, it was never accidental. It was engineered. In the eighth century BCE, at the Judahite fortress shrine of Tel Arad, roughly thirty-five miles south of Jerusalem, two limestone altars stood before the threshold of the “holy of holies.” Laboratory analysis of the charred residue on those altars has now told us plainly what ancient worshipers were inhaling: on one, frankincense blended with animal fat to volatilize its perfume at higher temperatures; on the other, cannabis mixed with animal dung to slow‑burn at lower temperatures, releasing a psychoactive aerosol sufficient to induce altered states. The compounds identified—THC, CBD, CBN, terpenes, and terpenoids—leave no doubt that the cannabis inflorescences were burned not for fragrance but for ecstasy.¹ ² ³ ⁴ 1 2 3 4

That is the kind of hard, physical evidence that strips away modern euphemisms. At Tel Arad, cannabis was a ritual technology. It was the apparatus by which priests or officiants crossed the threshold from sober perception to trance, much as frankincense, sourced via Arabian trade routes, made the sanctum smell like heaven even as cannabis smoke tuned human minds to hear it.¹ ³ ⁵ 1 3 5 The shrine’s use window, ca. 760–715 BCE, places it squarely in Judah’s political and religious turbulence, between the First Temple’s glory and the Assyrian pressure, when competing cults and high places dotted the land. The Arad altars stood not in a marginal folk‑site but in a fortress on the southern frontier—a liminal place in geography and consciousness.² ⁵ 2 5

The broader archaeology of Canaan corroborates that mind-altering substances were embedded in ritual. In the Late Bronze Age cemetery at Tel Yehud, archaeologists recovered imported Base‑Ring jugs shaped like poppy heads whose residues test positive for opium—likely associated with funerary rites and the cult of the dead, whether to raise spirits or ease the passage.⁶ 6 Across the Near East, ecstasy was not a fringe practice; it was a cultivated technique. Tel Arad’s twin altars memorialize that technique at the threshold of the inner sanctum, where incense regulated the smell and cannabis regulated the state of mind.¹ ³ 1 4

From that ancient record, one conclusion emerges that remains relevant today: cannabis was used to override sober cognition in a sacred framework. It did not sharpen judgment; it sought communion—voices, visions, feedback from a realm beyond ordinary waking life. Whether you interpret those experiences as genuine encounters with non-human intelligences or as products of hyper-stimulated neural circuitry, the public‑policy implication is the same. Normalizing marijuana enshrines altered consciousness as a cultural good. The more potent the product and the wider the adoption, the more a society tunes its public square toward ritualized disinhibition.

You can see the continuity of this logic in India’s long bhang tradition. Bhang, a paste made from cannabis leaves, has been woven into festivals like Holi and Maha Shivaratri for centuries, with references in Vedic literature and Ayurvedic lore and with colonial observers documenting its ubiquity.⁷ ⁸ ⁹ ¹⁰ 7 8 9 10 Contemporary estimates run in the millions of annual consumers around major festivals, placing cannabis within a sacred calendar rather than on the margins of culture.⁸ 8 In visual culture, the art that issues from such states is strikingly consistent across continents: charged neon geometrics, entity‑forms, fractal mandalas—repertoire that echoes shamanic cosmologies from Siberia to Amazonia and now saturates modern psychedelic aesthetics. The continuity of motifs suggests a continuity of effect: the same kinds of altered states produce the same types of visions.

But where ancient priests burned cannabis to induce ecstasy within a small, controlled ritual community, modern legalization scales that effect to whole populations. That is where archeology’s lesson collides with public health. If cannabis is a portal, the portal’s throughput matters. Epidemiology repeatedly associates heavier or earlier cannabis use with increased risk of psychotic outcomes, observing dose‑response effects: meta‑analysis finds the heaviest users have odds ratios near 3.9 for schizophrenia or related psychoses compared with non‑users.¹¹ 11 A 2025 synthesis applying Hill’s criteria argues there is a high likelihood cannabis contributes to schizophrenia development overall, with a pooled OR ≈ 2.88 and roughly two‑fold greater risk for adolescent users.¹⁴ 12 More granular clinical work shows that in diagnosed schizophrenia, cannabis use is tied to increased positive symptoms (hallucinations, delusions) and higher excitement, even as negative symptom patterns can vary; no causality is claimed, but the association is robust.¹³ 13 And among people with schizophrenia, cannabis use is significantly associated with some suicide‑related outcomes, including elevated odds of attempted suicide and increased hazards for suicide death.¹⁵ 14

Jurisdiction-level studies add a societal lens. After U.S. recreational legalization (2009–2019), modeling shows +5.8% injury crash rates and +4.1% fatal crash rates in the aggregate, controlling for factors like unemployment, speed limits, seat‑belt use, rural miles, and alcohol trends—effects vary by state, but the direction is worrisome.¹⁶ ¹⁷ 15 16 Systematic reviews converge on negative road‑safety impacts in most studies, and national surveys now find 4–6% of drivers self‑report driving within an hour of cannabis use, with risk perceptions conspicuously more lenient than for alcohol.¹⁸ ¹⁹ 17 18 None of this proves that every consumer will suffer harm; it demonstrates that scaled access increases measurable externalities—most acutely among young men, high‑potency users, and those who combine cannabis with alcohol.¹² ¹⁸ 19 17

So why invoke Tel Arad in a twenty-first-century legalization debate? Because it reveals what cannabis was for in a culture that canonized sacred space: it was for ecstasy, for crossing boundaries, for letting something else participate in one’s thinking. If you grant the metaphysical possibility that those “somethings” are genuine non-human intelligences, then mass legalization looks like opening a wide conduit into a population’s decision-making machinery. If you deny that and call the entities neural artifacts, the conclusion hardly changes: repeated entry into states that mimic external agency undermines habituated sovereignty and clarity—what a civilization requires for law, craft, and self-government.

There is also a moral claim at stake. Cultures thrive on lucidity—on earned competence and honest accountability. We do not need to romanticize intoxication because it looks antiquarian. Tel Arad was not quaint. It was precise. One altar perfumed the sanctum; the other hijacked cognition. Judah’s priests were innovating in ritual engineering, not engaging in harmless herbalism. The residue composition—the dung matrix, the cannabinoid profile, the deliberate temperature control—shows purposeful design to modulate consciousness.¹ ² ³ 1 2 3 That is the legacy modern marijuana culture inherits: techniques to create porosity. Legalization, commercialization, and age-neutral marketing scale porosity to a level ancient officiants never imagined, and the data on psychosis and road safety tell us the cost.

For these reasons, I reject marijuana as a cultural good. The Tel Arad shrine is a fossilized warning: cannabis has been a conduit into ecstasy in high places for a very long time, and cultures that survive do not hand their sovereignty to smoke. The way forward is not to sacralize intoxication, but to honor clarity—frankincense is fragrant; cannabis is psychoactive. The former perfumes a room; the latter reprograms it. Tel Arad did both. We should do neither.

David Jay Brown and Sara Phinn Huntley’s The Illustrated Field Guide to DMT Entities: Machine Elves, Tricksters, Teachers, and Other Interdimensional Beings (2025) brings this conversation into sharp modern focus. Structured like a naturalist’s handbook for hyperspace, the book catalogs 25 distinct entity types encountered in DMT and ayahuasca experiences—from self-transforming machine elves and mantis insectoids to reptilians, gray aliens, fairies, nature spirits, and divine forms like Grandmother Ayahuasca and the Virgin Mary. Each chapter includes encounter narratives from trip reports and scientific studies, rich descriptions of behavior, appearance, and the messages or teachings they impart, accompanied by visionary artwork from artists such as Alex Grey and Sara Phinn Huntley herself 1 2. The field guide poses a profound question: Are these beings mere constructs of the human psyche, or are they independent intelligences inhabiting other dimensions? That question lies at the heart of every cross-cultural psychedelic tradition, from Tel Arad’s cannabis altars to global shamanic rites.

The guide has not only attracted readers interested in visionary art or entheogens but has also gained credibility through endorsements from figures like Graham Hancock and through guest appearances by Brown and Huntley on platforms like the “Rebel Spirit Radio” podcast 3. Meanwhile, mainstream voices like Joe Rogan regularly revisit “DMT astronauts”—individuals who deliberately seek these entities for spiritual insight or practical guidance—and discuss whether contemporary governments and institutions might align with such interdimensional “high priests” to influence mass consciousness 4 5. This book is a frontier consideration into a new science of analysis and reinforces the core argument: humanity’s engagement with psychoactive smoke—from ancient altars to modern DMT breakthroughs—is not benign. It is a politics of consciousness intervention, where the line between personal sovereignty and external mental imposition is perilously blurred. And it’s very dangerous, and should under no rational endeavor, should ever be legalized in a serious society.

Footnotes

1. Arie, Rosen, Namdar (2020), GC‑MS identification of THC/CBD/CBN; animal dung/fat matrices; dating and functional interpretation. 1

2. Science News coverage of the shrine context, the cannabis–dung mixture, and THC levels consistent with altered states. 2

3. Taylor & Francis newsroom summary highlighting frankincense chemistry (boswellic acids) and deliberate psychoactive use of cannabis. 3

4. Times of Israel report: cannabis “to stimulate ecstasy” and implications for Temple ritual analogs. 4

5. Sci. News overview of shrine chronology, fortress border function, and compositional findings. 5

6. Biblical Archaeology Society: Tel Yehud opium residues in Base‑Ring jugs; cult‑of‑the‑dead context. 6

7. Wikipedia (summary with sources) on bhang as an edible cannabis preparation and festival use. 7

8. Firstpost explainer on Holi and bhang’s historical embedding; contemporary practice estimates. 8

9. IndiaTimes feature with Vedic/Ayurvedic references and colonial documentation of bhang. 9

10. SAGE review on the historical context and research state of cannabis use in India. 10

11. Marconi et al. (2016) meta-analysis: dose‑response; OR≈3.9 for heaviest use vs. non-use. 11

12. JAMA Network Open invited commentary (2025) summarizing evidence and Ontario cohort demographics; rising PARF after medical legalization. 19

13. eClinicalMedicine IPD meta-analysis (2023) associating cannabis use with higher positive and excitement dimensions in schizophrenia. 13

14. Biomolecules (2025) systematic review applying Hill’s criteria; overall OR≈2.88; doubled adolescent risk. 12

15. Psychological Medicine (2025) meta-analysis: cannabis use in schizophrenia linked to attempted suicide and suicide death hazards. 14

16. Journal of Studies on Alcohol and Drugs (2022): legalization associated with +5.8% injury crashes and +4.1% fatal crashes in aggregate. 15

17. IIHS bibliography summary of the same study’s methodology and state heterogeneity. 16

18. MDPI systematic review (2023) concluding negative impacts of legalization on road safety in most studies; risk profiles. 17

19. AAA Foundation (2024) fact sheet on DUI‑C prevalence (~4–6%), risk perceptions, and sex differences. 18

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Bibliography

Arie, E.; Rosen, B.; Namdar, D. (2020). Cannabis and Frankincense at the Judahite Shrine of Arad. Tel Aviv, 47(1), 5–28. 1

Bower, B. (2020). An Israeli shrine may have hosted the first ritual use of marijuana. Science News. 2

Farmer, C. M.; Monfort, S. S.; Woods, A. N. (2022). Changes in Traffic Crash Rates After Legalization of Marijuana. Journal of Studies on Alcohol and Drugs, 83, 494–501. 15

Marconi, A., et al. (2016). Meta-analysis of the Association Between the Level of Cannabis Use and Risk of Psychosis. Schizophrenia Bulletin, 42(5), 1262–1269. 11

Argote, M., et al. (2023). Association between cannabis use and symptom dimensions in schizophrenia spectrum disorders. eClinicalMedicine, 64, 102199. 13

Pourebrahim, S., et al. (2025). Does Cannabis Use Contribute to Schizophrenia? Biomolecules, 15, 368. 12

Mulligan, L. D., et al. (2025). Cannabis use and suicide in schizophrenia. Psychological Medicine, 55, e79. 14

González Sala, F., et al. (2023). Effects of Cannabis Legalization on Road Safety: A Literature Review. IJERPH, 20(5), 4655. 17

AAA Foundation for Traffic Safety (2024). Cannabis Use, Public Health, and Traffic Safety (Fact Sheet). 18

Biblical Archaeology Society (2022). Narcotics used in Canaanite Cult: Opium in Late Bronze Age Graves. 6

Firstpost (2025). The Big ‘Bhang Theory’: Why Indians drink bhang on Holi. 8

IndiaTimes (2023). On Holi, a look at the tradition of using bhang and its legality. 9

Rich Hoffman

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

Nick Fuentes Picked a Fight with the Heavyweight, Vivek Ramaswamy: And he’ll get his teeth knocked out and his jaw broke, just like Jake Paul–but he’ll be rich

Jake Paul’s recent fight with Anthony Joshua is the perfect illustration of what happens when spectacle replaces substance. Paul, a YouTube celebrity with millions of followers, stepped into the ring against a world-class heavyweight—a man with Olympic gold and years of professional dominance. The pre-fight theatrics were designed to sell the drama, but anyone who understood boxing knew the outcome was inevitable. Paul fought briefly, suffered a broken jaw in two places, and left the arena humiliated in front of tens of millions of viewers. Yet, for him, the payday—reportedly $92 million—made the beating worthwhile. It was never about winning; it was about monetizing attention, even at the cost of personal dignity.

In many ways, that’s exactly what Nick Fuentes is doing with his attacks on Vivek Ramaswamy and, by extension, the MAGA movement. Vivek is the Trump-endorsed candidate for Ohio governor, a heavyweight in political terms, and Nick is trying to build his brand by picking a fight he cannot win. The goal isn’t policy or principle—it’s clicks, donations, and notoriety. Like Paul, Fuentes is willing to take a beating if it means short-term gains. But compromising integrity for a few bucks is a dangerous trade. Real influence comes from credibility, not shock-jock theatrics, and when the dust settles, Vivek will be fine. Nick, on the other hand, risks being remembered as the guy who sold his future for a viral moment.

Before we get lost in the weeds on Nick and the “war” he’s trying to gin up against Vivek Ramaswamy in Ohio, the first thing to understand is that this is a publicity grab, a brand‑building exercise in the attention economy dressed up as a crusade. Tucker Carlson’s long sit‑down with Nick dropped late October 2025 and lit up the right for weeks—not because Nick said anything new, but because platforming him without hard pushback sparked a visible fracture among conservatives: Shapiro condemned the interview as “normalizing” a Hitler apologist, Heritage’s president defended Tucker as a free‑speech stand, and even Senate Republicans openly rebuked the tone and content. That intra‑movement rift is real, it’s documented, and it tells you what lane Nick is driving in: controversy converts to cash. 1 2 3 4 5

When Nick went on Piers Morgan Uncensored in December 2025, he doubled down—“Hitler was very f***ing cool,” he said, shrugging off historical atrocity with aesthetic fanboy talk about uniforms and parades. That wasn’t clipped speculation; it aired, it was challenged in real time, and it produced the predictable outrage cycle. He also conceded “at least six million” Jews were killed, but framed Holocaust memory as a mechanism to browbeat white Christians—a rhetorical move that’s been part of his pattern: push past decency, trivialize mass murder, court the shock. The point isn’t whether he “means” it; the point is that publicly saying it pays in a donor‑driven creator market. 6 7 8

And sure, people will ask how a 27‑ or 28‑year‑old ends up with this microphone. There’s a timeline: Unite the Right 2017, Groyper wars harassing mainstream conservative events in 2019, deplatforming cycles from YouTube for hate speech, and then re‑ascendance on platforms willing to host him; he even turned up at Mar‑a‑Lago in November 2022 when Ye (Kanye) brought him to dinner with Trump—a fiasco the former president later said he didn’t foresee. That dinner is a hinge in the public memory; it proved how oxygen flows to extremism when spectacle meets lax vetting. 9 10 11 12 13

Now, does Nick hurt Vivek in Ohio? No—he helps him by contrast. Ohio 2026 is shaping up as Ramaswamy vs. Acton, and the fundamentals are what they are: Vivek’s cash advantage, statewide endorsements, and consolidated GOP backing set the terrain; Acton’s own story is COVID‑era and compassion‑branded, but even Gov. DeWine has publicly said those shutdown decisions were his, not hers—undercutting the “Lockdown Lady” moniker his party uses. Because, DeWine is really a Democrat, and Amy was his girl. On balance, the race is competitive in public polling but leans Republican in a red‑trending Ohio; when the smoke clears, voters will choose jobs, affordability, and competence over influencer theatrics. That’s why a shock‑jock swipe from Nick won’t move the needle—it hardens a tiny niche while most Ohioans tune out the performative nihilism. 14 15 16 17 18 19

And here’s the part nobody wants to say out loud: this is a business model. The pundit economy rewards dopamine spikes—outrage, taboo, transgression—because creator monetization has shifted from legacy ad rails to direct fan funding. Platforms like Rumble now integrate Bitcoin tipping (with Tether) so audiences can spray micro‑payments across controversial content in seconds. You don’t need brand safety; you need attention. That’s why “Hitler is cool” becomes an economic lever: it draws fire, it drives views, it pulls in tips from an aggrieved subculture that feels ignored by institutions. In this incentive structure, “being unhinged” is not a bug; it’s a feature. 20 21 22

So, the math here is straightforward. Nick’s short‑term revenue maximizes by attacking Trump‑aligned figures like Vivek; it creates a pseudo‑rebellion narrative (“I speak the truths your gatekeepers won’t”), harvests donations, and inflates his standing with under‑30 males who see no path in a culture saturated with porn, atomized dating markets, and collapsing family formation—all frustrations he riffs on. But that same strategy destroys long‑term trust and any real governing coalition. Tucker’s interview gave Nick oxygen; Shapiro’s response—and the broader backlash—marked the boundary lines of mainstream conservatism. Vivek will do well to stay above it, keep on policy‑first, and connect with Ohio’s economy and families, and let the theatrics burn themselves out. That contrast, in the end, will decide everything. 3 23 5

I’ll add one more note because I’ve lived this choice set: taking money and chasing the algorithm means someone else owns your argument. Independent voices who refuse the pay‑to‑play goose—whether that’s bot‑inflated follower counts or crypto tip farms—give up the easy ego pop in exchange for credibility with serious people who need facts, not theatrics. In Ohio, facts look like campaign filings, union endorsements crossing over, county‑by‑county organizing, and policy planks about taxes, education, and industry. That’s where Vivek is playing. That’s where this race will be decided. 15 16

While Vivek Ramaswamy will be fine in Ohio—his strategy is solid, his Trump endorsement is strong—he could easily swat away Nick Fuentes by pointing to the Jake Paul fight as a metaphor. Picking a fight with a heavyweight when you’re clearly outmatched is reckless, and Nick’s attempt to derail Vivek’s campaign is no different. It’s a stunt, not a strategy, and it will fail.

But here’s the deeper truth Nick is tapping into: the rise of a disenfranchised generation. Under‑30 men are angry, disconnected, and increasingly unwilling to pursue marriage or family because they see the culture as broken—porn saturation, hookup norms, and progressive narratives have eroded trust. Nick speaks to that frustration, and that’s why his voice resonates even when his tactics are self‑destructive. This is the future of media and politics: decentralized, unfiltered, and without institutional guardrails. Legacy platforms can’t contain it, and the genie isn’t going back in the bottle. Even when Vivek wins and MAGA thrives for now, the next wave will be shaped by these angry young men who feel robbed of a normal life—and commentators like Nick will only grow louder in that vacuum.

—

Footnotes

1. Tucker Carlson’s interview with Nick Fuentes published Oct. 27, 2025; episode listings and YouTube analytics confirm timing and reach. 1 2

2. Coverage of the interview’s fallout and intra‑GOP rift (Heritage defense; Shapiro’s critique; Senate Republicans’ reactions). 3 4 5

3. Piers Morgan interview (Dec. 8–9, 2025) where Fuentes said “Hitler was very f***ing cool”; additional reportage on his Holocaust remarks. 6 8 7

4. Fuentes background and extremism timeline: Unite the Right, Groyper wars, deplatforming, ideological positions. 9

5. Mar‑a‑Lago dinner (Nov. 22–25, 2022) with Ye and Fuentes; Trump’s later statements on not recognizing Fuentes. 10 11 12 13

6. Ohio 2026 overview: Ramaswamy’s fundraising and endorsements; Acton’s profile; DeWine clarifying COVID decisions. 14 15 16 17 18 19

7. Creator‑economy monetization and Rumble’s Bitcoin tipping integration (Tether partnership; rollout timing). 20 21 22

8. Shapiro’s extended takedown of Tucker/Fuentes; the boundary between mainstream conservatism and the groyper fringe. 23 5

—

Selected Bibliography

• Tucker Carlson x Nick Fuentes: “Tucker Carlson Interviews Nick Fuentes” (Podchaser listing, Oct. 27, 2025); “Tucker Carlson Interviews Nick Fuentes” (YouTube). 1 2

• Intra‑movement rift: USA TODAY analysis of interview fallout; POLITICO on Shapiro’s critique and Heritage backlash; Fox News coverage of the AmericaFest sparring. 3 4 5

• Piers Morgan interview: The Independent, Jewish Telegraphic Agency, and The Forward reports on Fuentes’ Hitler comments and Holocaust remarks (Dec. 2025). 6 8 7

• Mar‑a‑Lago dinner (2022): USA TODAY, NBC News, ABC News, POLITICO accounts and Trump’s statement. 10 11 12 13

• Ohio 2026: Cleveland Scene and Columbus Underground on fundraising and endorsements; Acton campaign site; NBC4 on DeWine’s COVID responsibility remarks; Ohio Capital Journal profile. 14 15 24 17 18

• Creator monetization: Cointelegraph and industry reports on Rumble’s Bitcoin tipping rollout and Tether partnership. 20

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=2070

Ohio is Not Moving Away From Trump: People who buy lottery tickets aren’t going to flip a Red State

(I wrote this before Trump signed that stupid pot executive order. I won’t write any more support for Trump, or speak favourably of him in any more videos. This article is still true, and is the case with Ohio in general. People can do what they want. For me, this is where I step off the Trump train. It was fun while it lasted. He said people from my side didn’t call him to warn him away from making that really dumb decision. Well, I warned him, and he did it anyway. So I’ve cooled off a lot on Trump and don’t feel like defending him any longer, as it’s a waste of my time. With that said, the facts of this article still hold. The Democrats are offering worse people, with even dumber ideas about pot and civilization in general. So the facts are the facts. But because of Trump’s all talk and no action on the essential things, and his alignment with pot, I am done with his administration. I took down all my Trump signs and got rid of all my Trump collectibles. I didn’t throw them away; I put them away and out of sight. They are part of history. But I am no longer as proud of Trump as I have been for 10 years. Needless to say, between him and the Democrats, Ohio will still pick him.)

Ohio didn’t suddenly sour on Trump because one online poll said so, and the breathless headlines that tried to turn a three-month, opt-in web survey into a pronouncement on the Buckeye State’s political soul tell you more about the media’s incentives than about voters. The story making the rounds came from Morning Consult’s December state-level approval tracker, which rolled up interviews from September through November and reported Ohio at 49% disapprove, 48% approve, 2% don’t know—net −1, same as Iowa. That is the entire basis for the “Ohio flips negative” narrative. It’s wafer-thin, within the plausible margin for any nonprobability sample, and it relies on online panel responses that are later weighted to look representative. If you know how Ohio votes, and who actually shows up on Election Day, the “flip” reads like a media convenience, not a signal. 1 2

Start with what the poll is, not what people pretend it is. Morning Consult’s state approval series is an online, quota‑- and sample-tracking program; they interview registered voters every day via a network of web panels, then weight those respondents to government benchmarks and past vote, and publish a three-month rolling average for each state. They’re transparent about it: a July 2025 methodology primer spells out the quota sampling, ranking, and the +/-1 to +/-6 point state-level margins, depending on population. In other words, these are not random samples drawn from a known frame of all Ohio voters; they are scaled, modeled estimates built from opt-in online interviews, aggregated across a quarter. That matters when the “movement” being hyped is a one-point net change. 3 4

If you want to understand why these numbers gyrate month to month, look at how they’re constructed. Nonprobability online panels can be excellent for speed and topic tracking; they also introduce two significant vulnerabilities in politics: coverage and self-selection. Every serious polling standards body has wrestled with this. AAPOR’s task force reports—one classic from 2013 and another extensive update in 2022—explain that opt-in online samples don’t give you known selection probabilities for respondents, so you rely on weighting and modeling to back into representativeness. That’s defensible for many uses, but it’s also where nonresponse and selection biases can sneak in, mainly when partisan participation differs across modes. The reports also catalog quality metrics to diagnose panel drift and response attentiveness; the punchline is that online panels can be made useful, but you must keep their inferential limits in mind. None of that supports turning a −1 net in a rolling average into “Ohio abandons Trump.” 5 6

It’s not just theory. The lived reality in Ohio has been three straight presidential cycles of double-digit rightward lean relative to the country and consistent Trump wins. In 2024, Trump carried Ohio by about eleven points—roughly 55% to 44%—adding more raw votes than he had in 2020, even as total turnout dipped slightly. That outcome reinforced the long glide from swing‑state status to reliable red terrain, with the GOP broadening margins across most counties. Anyone living here saw the on-the-ground coalition: working-age voters in exurbs and small industrial towns whose politics are shaped by affordability, energy, and cultural stability—not by who answers online surveys on their phone during lunch. That’s the fundamental disconnect between online approval tracking and honest Ohio elections. 7 8 9

Media framed the December tracker as a “flip” because it fits a larger storyline about Trump underwater in swing states and a blue wave threat in 2026, but step back and you see the core fact the headlines buried: even Morning Consult’s own map shows Trump net‑positive in 22 states, with Ohio and Iowa moving to net −1 inside an error band. When your method can swing a couple of points on panel composition changes or weighting updates, you don’t declare reversals—you caution readers. The Cincinnati Enquirer piece, which repeats the 49/48/2 figures, at least notes that margins vary by state and are derived from a three-month roll-up; it still presented the “flip” as a dramatic change without grappling with how fragile a one-point net is on an online panel. That’s precisely how suppression narratives work: take noisy readings, build a doom arc, hope the mood sticks. 1 10

Iowa and Ohio were singled out, but notice how the same tracker had Florida at 50/46 approval for Trump—net positive—and Pennsylvania at 47 approve/50 disapprove—basically what you would expect from a purple state. If you are trying to tell the story of collapsing support in former GOP strongholds, Florida’s numbers don’t help that narrative, so they get footnoted, while the two net −1 states get the spotlight. That’s selection by headline, not by method. And again, we’re talking about slim differences inside modeled margins: it’s a map designed for trend reading, not knife-edge pronouncements. 11

Now, to the core critique: online panels systematically underrepresent the kind of “silent majority” MAGA voters most common in Ohio. You can hear it in any shop floor breakroom: people who work fifty or sixty hours a week aren’t clicking survey invites, and they’re not keen on sharing opinions with strangers for points or coupons. AAPOR’s work on nonprobability sampling and online panels acknowledges the coverage problem and the dependence on weighting to correct for it. Pollsters like YouGov defend their panels as high‑quality with strong fraud detection and advanced weighting; they also admit that recruitment tilts toward the more digitally connected. Even when you calibrate to census and voter file benchmarks, you’re still correcting a nonrandom, volunteer sample. When the political signal you’re measuring is heavily driven by turnout and preference intensity among people who aren’t panel joiners, you can miss a lot of real-world support until ballots are counted. 12 13 6

There’s also the “shy” question. In 2016 and 2020, analysts argued about social desirability creating a hidden Trump vote. The academic record is mixed: a Yale list experiment found no evidence that Trump support was under-reported; FiveThirtyEight suggested shy voters weren’t the main driver of error. On the other hand, the USC Dornsife team showed systematic differences across modes, with self-administered polls showing higher Trump support than live interviewer surveys, consistent with a discomfort effect. The newest work on social pressure finds cross-pressured partisans on both sides, with the aggregate bias likely dampened. Put all that together, and I’d call the shy effect situational, not universal—more relevant where stigma is high, less relevant in places where Trump is a social norm. In Ohio, especially outside a handful of urban neighborhoods, there’s not much stigma in saying you’re for Trump. The bigger bias here is availability: who answers at all—online, by phone, or at the door. 14 15 16 17

When the media reach for “approval” to make a case about electoral strength, they also conflate two different animals. Approval is a temperature check about job performance; elections are about choice under constraints—issues, opponents, down-ballot dynamics, mobilization, and rules. Look at Emerson’s December 2025 Ohio survey: it used mixed mode (cellphone text/IVR plus an online panel), and found Trump approval 46/48 among Ohio voters—again a slight net negative—, but in the same poll, Democrats gained some ground in governor and Senate horse races as women consolidated for Amy Acton while men stayed with Vivek Ramaswamy. That’s not a collapse; it’s issue sorting. It tells you that campaign narratives and mobilization matter more than a two-point swing in approval. And even Emerson’s series acknowledged that, since August, Trump’s approval fell by three points while disapproval rose by six—but the economy remained the top issue (44%), immigration (8%), and education (7%)—a profile that has historically favored Republicans in Ohio. 18 19

There’s an additional wrinkle: turnout validation. When researchers link surveys to voter files, they consistently find that self-reported voting overstates actual turnout, and that this bias is disproportionately among the more educated and politically attentive—precisely the groups who are more likely to complete online polls. Harvard’s Kosuke Imai and UNC’s Ted Enamorado showed that once you validate against the voter file, inflated turnout claims drop, and the sample’s voting behavior looks more like the real electorate. If your online panel tilts toward habitual survey‑takers who also overreport civic activity, no amount of ranking thoroughly fixes the difference between “people who like to answer surveys” and “people who actually vote.” This is one reason approval and intention measures in opt-in panels can underperform in high‑salience elections—turnout composition swamps neat demographic weights. 20 21

So what can you actually learn from the Ohio “flip” month? Two things: first, the national mood in late fall 2025 went sour around affordability and government dysfunction; national aggregates showed Trump underwater at the end of the shutdown, with Gallup at 36% approve, NBC/YouGov, and Quinnipiac similarly negative. That atmospheric dip can tint state panels—even red ones—for a few weeks. Second, you should watch trajectories across methods, not a single three-month roll-up. Emerson’s Ohio series put Trump’s approval in the mid-40s; Morning Consult’s national tracker had him in the mid-40s, too; RealClear’s compilation showed a spread across outlets from the high 30s to the mid-40s. All consistent with a choppy environment, not with Ohio turning blue. 22 23

The media hook—“Ohio flips negative”—also ignores a simple, durable counter‑fact: elections here continue to break for Republicans, even when national approval wobbles. The 2024 map showed GOP dominance across nearly all counties, and state certification confirmed that Trump netted more votes than his 2020 Ohio total despite slightly lower turnout. That doesn’t happen in a state “flipping away”; it occurs in a state consolidating. 8 9

Let’s talk method faults more directly, because that’s the part that actually teaches you something worthwhile. Nonprobability online polling faces four recurring problems in U.S. electoral work:

First, coverage error. Not all likely voters are reachable or inclined to join web panels. Internet access is high, but panel participation has its own skews: time availability, digital comfort, and willingness to trade opinions for incentives. AAPOR’s reports and YouGov’s own methodology notes acknowledge this and lean on active sampling and propensity scoring to compensate. In practice, compensation helps; it does not erase differences in contactability. The working-age, shift-based voters who anchor Ohio’s GOP strength are precisely under-covered by panel culture. 12 5

Second, selection and nonresponse. Even if you invite a demographically balanced slice of your panel, the people who respond to political surveys at a given moment are not random. During periods of partisan enthusiasm, one side may “show up” more in surveys; during periods of disgust or cynicism, response rates fall unevenly. AAPOR’s 2022 task force walks through how response quality metrics can improve detection, but it doesn’t change the fact that in high‑polarization cycles, panel response is a mood-weighted sample. When affordability becomes the top issue—as it did in late 2025—people irritated with politics may be less inclined to answer; that alone can shift approval by 2 points without any underlying change in vote intent. 6

Third, mode effects. In political polling, live‑caller phone, IVR, text‑to‑web, and online panel surveys can produce different distributions, especially on sensitive questions. USC’s 2016 work showed online self-administered surveys yielded higher Trump support than interviewer-administered phone polls, consistent with social comfort patterns. In Ohio, where “Trump talk” is everyday in many communities, the mode effect probably flattens, but nationally, when media storms frame a narrative of controversy, online samples can absorb more activism from the left—people who like surveys and like being heard. That can tilt a short‑window tracker. 16

Fourth, translating approval to a vote. Approval is not a ballot. Ohio voters have repeatedly separated “job rating” judgments from vote choice, prioritizing affordability, energy prices, border policy, and cultural guardrails. Emerson’s December Ohio poll confirmed the issue stack: economy at 44%, then “threats to democracy” at 13%, healthcare at 11%, housing at 9%, immigration at 8%. That landscape, coupled with historic vote margins, suggests Republicans will remain favored unless they become complacent. A one-point net approval drift in a web panel doesn’t rewrite that reality. 18

Now, some readers will push back with other online trackers. Civiqs, for instance, had Ohio at 51% disapprove/44% approve of Trump in early December after the shutdown, and local coverage highlighted the dip among younger voters and college-educated respondents. That’s a data point; it shows how shifts in subgroup composition can affect approval. But even that report noted the split by age—50+ approve, 18–49 disapprove—and the gender gap. Translate that to turnout and geographic distribution—older voters vote more, and Ohio’s GOP strength is outside the big metros—and the electoral consequences look less dire than the topline suggests. 22

If you want Ohio-specific reassurance that the fundamentals haven’t changed, look at actual 2024 results and how they mapped across counties: red strength intensified almost everywhere; Democrats tightened only in a few suburban counties like Union, Clermont, and Delaware. The new coalition here is anchored in places the media rarely visits, and it shows up when it matters—not in online panels, but on paper ballots. That’s the silent majority phenomenon people talk about—not “shy,” just disinterested in surveys. 24

Two practical lessons for reading polls as we head into 2026:

First, weigh the method, not the headline. An online three-month tracker is useful for trend sense; don’t treat a one-point net as a regime change. Check whether other modes—mixed IVR/text, live‑caller statewide polls—show the same movement. In December, Emerson’s mixed-mode Ohio survey clocked Trump at 46/48 approval, consistent with Morning Consult’s national mid-40s; RealClear’s national batteries ranged from 39–46 approve, depending on the house effects. That triangulation tells you the mood was softer, not collapsing. 18 23

Second, remember the reality of turnout and election timing. Polls measure talking; elections measure doing. Pew’s “validated voter” work makes this plain: the people who say they vote are not always the ones who do, and compositional differences matter more in midterms. The Ohio electorate that shows up in 2026 will look more like 2024 Ohio voters than like a national online panel. That means more weight on the working class and the 50+ cohort, less on the disengaged younger respondents who fill out online surveys between classes. 25

Gas will be under $2 going into the next election cycle. What matters politically: perceived affordability. Voters judge by weekly spend—fuel, utilities, groceries—and by whether they feel their community is stabilizing or fraying. Trump’s rallies have leaned hard into affordability and border policy precisely because those resonate in Ohio. Even the USA Today roundups that touted the “flip” acknowledged that Florida remains net‑positive on Trump and that national averages ticked up slightly after the November low. If energy stays cheaper and wages steady, approval will follow—but more importantly, votes will hold. 11

Is the left trying to plant suppression narratives through poll headlines? Of course, that’s politics. The tactic is as old as Gallup: shape mood, depress the other side’s excitement, declare inevitability. The antidote is local reality: county maps, early vote patterns, precinct work, and actual field operations. Ohio Republicans have a structural advantage here; if they keep “same‑day, paper, ID” as a rallying cry and focus on precinct captains instead of Twitter fights, they’ll out-organize online sentiment. The 2024 map already proved the coalition is resilient. 8

For readers who want receipts—the footnotes that help you judge the robustness—here’s a compact reference set you can use whenever the following “flip” headline drops:

• Morning Consult’s tracker and its state-level methodology primer, detailing the three-month roll-up and weighting to CPS benchmarks. 2 3

• The Cincinnati Enquirer and USA Today write-ups that summarized the December update (the 49/48/2 Ohio figure and the context of 22 net‑positive states) are useful to see how reporters framed the same dataset. 1 11

• Emerson College Polling’s December 2025 Ohio survey, showing mixed‑mode data for gubernatorial and Senate matchups and Trump approval at 46/48 with issue salience led by the economy. Local TV and NBC4 coverage of that same poll adds clarity on sample size (n≈850, MOE ±3.3). 18 19

• Civiqs-based local coverage indicating a post-shutdown approval dip (Ohio 51 disapprove / 44 approve), with subgroup splits by age and education—worth reading but always weighed against turnout patterns. 22

• The election result confirmations: NBC News Ohio 2024 live results (55–44), county breakdowns from NBC4, and certification notes from Cleveland.com on turnout and vote totals. These ground everything. 7 8 9

• AAPOR’s nonprobability sampling reports (2013; updated task force on online panels and data quality metrics in 2022/2023). These are the “how the sausage is made” documents for opt-in online surveys. 5 6 26

• Mode‑effect and shy‑vote literature: Yale’s list experiment (no shy effect), FiveThirtyEight’s skeptical analysis, USC’s 2016 mode comparison, and recent work on social pressure showing cross-pressured partisans on both sides. Use these to push back when someone waves “shy voters” as either a cure-all or a fantasy. 14 15 16 17

• Turnout validation studies: linking surveys to voter files to debias self-reported voting, which underscores why online samples overrepresent habitual survey‑takers. 20

If you collect those sources, you’ll see how flimsy the “Ohio flips negative on Trump” headline is in methodological terms. It’s a cautious tracker’s small net move during a rough national month, not a realignment. And even inside the tracker’s own series, Florida and other GOP states remained net‑positive, with the number of above-water states still exceeding similar points in Trump’s first term. The narrative breaks under its own weight. 11

What should Ohio Republicans do with this? Treat it as a lesson in media jujitsu. When a web panel drifts two points, smile and keep organizing. Push precinct-level turnout plans, show up in the workplaces and churches where surveys don’t go, and keep beating the drum on affordability with receipts: local gas averages, utility bills, grocery basket comparisons over six months. You don’t need a poll to tell you what the checkout line tells you. And if you want a poll, prefer mixed‑mode, registration-based samples connected to the voter file (SSRS’s Voter Poll methods statement is a good model). Those designs reduce the self-selection bias of pure opt-in panels and tend to track the actual electorate more accurately. 27

Ohio didn’t flip. It yawned while national pundits tried to turn a rounding error into prophecy. The people who will decide 2026 are not filling out online “approval” pulse checks; they’re making shifts, fixing machines, and then voting. And when you look past the headlines to the county maps and the validation studies and the complex math of turnout, the story is the same one you’ve seen for three cycles: Ohio is MAGA country, not a trending blue lab experiment. Polls will keep trying to tell a different story because it sells. But the ballots—paper, same day, with ID—are what count. Those who have told the truth about Ohio for years now will continue to do so. 7 Ohio won’t turn away from Trump in exchange for the kind of people who buy lottery tickets and fill out online polls.

—

Sources for further reading (a handy set to clip under the essay body for footnoted context):

• Morning Consult state tracker and methodology: “Tracking Trump” and “Methodology Primer—State‑Level Tracking (July 2025).” 2 3

• Local coverage of the December Ohio/Iowa net‑one reading: Cincinnati Enquirer; USA Today overview. 1 11

• Emerson College Polling—Ohio (Dec. 6–8, 2025) plus NBC4/WLWT write-ups. 18 19 28

• Civiqs/Ohio coverage (Canton Repository). 22

• Ohio 2024: NBC News live results; county breakdown (NBC4); certification (Cleveland.com). 7 8 9

• AAPOR reports on nonprobability sampling & online panel quality. 5 6

• Mode effect & shy voter literature: Yale list experiment; FiveThirtyEight; USC Dornsife; Acta Politica social pressure paper. 14 15 16 17

• Turnout validation: Imai & Enamorado on linking surveys to voter files. 20

• SSRS Voter Poll methodology as an example of multi-frame, verified voter sampling. 27

Rich Hoffman

Click Here to Protect Yourself with Second Call Defense https://www.secondcalldefense.org/?affiliate=2070

The Ohio Governor Race: Vivek Ramaswamy vs. Amy Acton—”the lockdown lady”

You know, people keep asking me about this Ohio governor race, and I’ll tell you what I think: Vivek Ramaswamy is going to win, and he’s going to win big. But that doesn’t mean you sit back and assume it’s all going to happen on autopilot. Campaigns aren’t won by assumptions; they’re won by hard work, strategy, and relentless execution. And if you’ve seen some of the chatter online—polls showing Amy Acton up by a point or two—you might think, “Wow, is Vivek in trouble?” No, he’s not. But let’s break this down because there’s a lot of smoke and mirrors in these early numbers.

First, let’s talk about Amy Acton. Who is she? Most people don’t even remember her name right now, and that’s part of the problem. She’s the former Ohio Health Director who became the face of lockdowns during COVID. Back in 2020, she was the one telling you to stay home, mask up, and cancel your life. She shut down schools, businesses, county fairs—you name it.¹ She was Ohio’s Dr. Fauci, taking cues straight from the CDC and enforcing some of the harshest restrictions in the Midwest. And it wasn’t just policy; it was the tone. She leaned into fear. She made people miserable. And when the heat got too much, she resigned in June 2020 because she refused to lift bans on county fairs.² That’s her legacy.

Now, fast forward to 2025. People have short memories, and Democrats are counting on that. They’re hoping voters see “Dr. Acton” and think “compassionate health expert” instead of “lockdown czar.” But here’s the reality: once she starts talking, once Vivek and his team start connecting her to those lockdowns, it’s game over. Ohioans haven’t forgotten the pain of 2020—they’ve just moved on. But if you remind them who caused it, they’ll move on from her real fast.

And what’s she running on? Abortion rights, reproductive freedom, and vague promises of “public health leadership.”³ That’s it. No major accomplishments since leaving office. No executive experience beyond a failed stint as health director. She’s endorsed by unions like AFSCME and UAW, and big-city mayors are lining up behind her.⁴ But endorsements don’t erase a record of failure. And in a state that leans red, with Trump back in the White House and MAGA energy surging, that’s not enough.

Now, Vivek Ramaswamy—he’s the opposite story. Entrepreneur, author, former presidential candidate. He’s smart, articulate, and aggressive. He’s raised nearly $10 million for this race, compared to Acton’s $1.4 million.⁵ He’s got Trump’s endorsement, JD Vance in his corner, and the Ohio GOP machine behind him.⁶ His platform? Bold: eliminate income and property taxes, merit pay for teachers, work requirements for Medicaid.⁷ He’s even courting unions, which is a savvy move in a state where blue-collar voters matter.⁸

So why the tight polls? Because polls lie. Or, more accurately, they mislead. Early polls oversample urban areas, lean left in methodology, and create narratives that help Democrats fundraise. RealClearPolitics has Vivek up by 6.5 points (49.5% to 43%).⁹ But Impact Research claims Acton is down by just one point, and Hart Research even shows her up by one among likely voters.¹⁰ Sounds scary, right? Until you realize these are snapshots taken before the campaign really starts. Acton hasn’t been vetted yet. She hasn’t faced Vivek on a debate stage. She hasn’t had to answer for the misery she caused during COVID. When that happens, those numbers will swing hard.

Here’s what I told people: don’t panic, but don’t get complacent. Vivek could walk out today and win by 15 points, maybe more. On Acton’s best day, she loses by eight. But campaigns aren’t about best days; they’re about execution. Vivek needs ads, billboards, ground game, and a war chest big enough to drown out the noise. And that’s why he’s smart to push fundraising now. Take nothing for granted. Because Democrats will throw everything at this race—they know Ohio is a battleground, and they’d love to embarrass Trump by flipping it blue.

And let’s not forget the Trump factor. If Trump does a couple of rallies in Ohio for Vivek, it’s lights out for Acton. He probably doesn’t even need that help, but it would seal the deal. MAGA voters will turn out in force. Independents? They’ll break for Vivek once they see Acton’s record. And suburban moms—the group Democrats are banking on—aren’t going to forget who kept their kids out of school for months. That’s political kryptonite.

So what happens when Acton starts talking? Disaster. She’s awkward, ideological, and out of touch. She was a radical during COVID, and she hasn’t changed. Democrats think they can hide that, but they can’t. The minute Vivek’s team rolls out ads showing her press conferences from 2020, it’s over. She’s the lockdown lady. The face of fear. And Ohioans aren’t voting for that in 2026.

Now, let’s talk strategy. Vivek needs to keep doing what he’s doing: stay aggressive, stay visible, and keep hammering the contrast. He’s a builder; she’s a bureaucrat. He’s about freedom; she’s about control. And he needs to remind voters that elections have consequences—because if Acton wins, Ohio goes backward. More mandates, more government overreach, more progressive nonsense. That’s the choice.

So, bottom line: Vivek wins. Easily. But only if he fights like he’s ten points down. No coasting, no assumptions. Raise the money, run the ads, knock the doors. Because politics is like football—you don’t win by reading the headlines; you win by playing the game. And when the game starts, Amy Acton is going to get crushed. She’s going to be exposed for what she is: a failed health director with no vision, no leadership, and no chance.

And let’s not forget just how angry people were at Amy Acton during and after those lockdowns. This wasn’t mild criticism—it was rage, rage that she provoked. People had been pushed beyond their limit, and she knew it as she did it. Protesters showed up at her home in Bexley, some carrying rifles, shouting slogans, and waving signs with anti-Semitic slurs.¹ Armed demonstrators patrolled her street while others plastered her address online.² She had to be assigned a security detail and eventually went into hiding because the threats were so severe.³ People doxed her, compared her to Nazis, and called her a “globalist” for extending stay-at-home orders.⁴ It got so bad that she resigned under pressure, citing concerns for her safety and her family’s well-being.⁵ That’s the level of backlash we’re talking about—the kind of fury that doesn’t just disappear. Ohioans haven’t forgotten that, and once voters are reminded, it will come roaring back. And all that was just for a member of the DeWine administration. Imagine her as the head of the Executive Branch.

Notes on doxing actions:

1. Forward. “Ohio Protesters Gather in Front of Dr. Amy Acton’s Home.” May 2020.

2. Times of Israel. “Jewish Ohio Health Official Resigns After Anti-Semitic Backlash.” June 2020.

3. FOX 5 New York. “Public Health Officials Resign, Some Assigned Security Detail Amid Threats.” June 2020.

4. WKYC. “Why Did Dr. Amy Acton Resign as Ohio Health Director?” November 2020.

5. Jewish Telegraphic Agency. “Amy Acton Faced Anti-Semitic Backlash After Lockdown Orders.” February 2021.

Bibliography

1. Cleveland.com. “Amy Acton’s Role in Ohio COVID Lockdowns.” June 2020.

2. Columbus Dispatch. “Acton Resigns Amid Controversy Over Fair Bans.” June 2020.

3. Cincinnati Enquirer. “Amy Acton Campaign Platform: Abortion Rights and Public Health.” October 2025.

4. Dayton Daily News. “Unions Back Acton for Governor.” November 2025.

5. RealClearPolitics. “Ohio Governor Race Polling Average.” December 2025.

6. Fox News. “Trump Endorses Vivek Ramaswamy for Ohio Governor.” November 2025.

7. Politico. “Ramaswamy’s Policy Agenda: Taxes, Education, Medicaid.” November 2025.

8. Wall Street Journal. “Ramaswamy Courts Unions in Ohio.” December 2025.

9. RealClearPolitics. “Ohio Governor Race Polling Average.” December 2025.

10. Impact Research and Hart Research Polls. “Ohio Governor Race Polling.” November 2025.

Rich Hoffman

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

FBI Delays, Media Spin, and the Brian Cole Jr. Pipe Bomber Case: What They Don’t Want You to Know

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.

• 2021–2024: FBI claims “ongoing investigation,” releases grainy surveillance footage of masked suspect.

• 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

• Epstein files heavily redacted, shielding high-profile names.

• 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 6^th 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 6^th. 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.)

Rich Hoffman

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

Free Tina Peters: The Battle for Honest Elections in America

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.

5. U.S. Constitution, Article II, Section 2.

6. Heritage Foundation. “Election Fraud Database.” 2024.

7. Brookings Institution. “Election Fraud Rates in U.S. Elections.” 2023.

Rich Hoffman

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

The Affordability Crisis: Price increases to fill vacant personalities are the folly of socialism looming in the background

The question of housing affordability has become one of the most pressing socio-economic issues in the United States today. With the average home price reaching approximately $400,000 in 2024, many young families and individuals find themselves priced out of the market. This reality raises a critical question: why does the housing industry continue to prioritize large, expensive homes when market signals clearly indicate a growing demand for smaller, affordable housing options? Historically, the American housing model was built on accessibility. Following World War II, the United States experienced an unprecedented housing boom driven by the GI Bill, which provided returning veterans with low-interest mortgages and educational benefits. Between 1945 and 1960, the average home price increased from roughly $8,000 to $12,000 [1], while median household income rose from $2,400 to $5,600 [2]. These homes were predominantly single-story ranch houses designed to be affordable for working-class families. They featured simple layouts, modest square footage, and efficient construction methods that allowed developers to build entire neighborhoods quickly and inexpensively. This model supported rapid suburbanization and contributed to the rise of the American middle class. By contrast, the late 20th and early 21st centuries saw a shift toward larger homes, often called “McMansions.” In 1980, the average home price was $47,000 [3], but by 2000, it had climbed to $120,000 [4], and by 2020, it had skyrocketed to $320,000 [5]. This escalation far outpaced wage growth, creating a structural imbalance in housing affordability and leaving younger generations unable to enter the market. The cultural and economic forces that once prioritized affordability have been replaced by incentives that reward size, luxury, and perceived status, setting the stage for today’s housing crisis.

The persistent trend toward building larger homes is not driven solely by consumer demand but by systemic incentives in the real estate and finance sectors. Developers maximize profits by constructing high-value properties, while municipalities benefit from increased property tax revenues. This dynamic discourages the development of smaller, entry-level homes, even though demographic data suggests that younger generations prefer affordability and functionality over size and luxury. According to recent affordability indices, the ratio of median household income to qualifying income for a median-priced home fell to 0.68 in 2024 [6]. This indicates that homeownership is increasingly unattainable for average earners, reinforcing the argument for a return to smaller, cost-effective housing models. Yet the financial ecosystem—from banks to zoning boards—remains locked into a paradigm that rewards high-margin projects. Mortgage lenders often favor larger loans because they generate higher interest revenue, while local governments prioritize developments that promise substantial tax inflows. These incentives create a feedback loop that perpetuates the construction of oversized homes, even as market demand shifts toward affordability. Furthermore, inflationary pressures and speculative investment exacerbate the problem. Between 2000 and 2024, housing prices grew by more than 230%, while median incomes increased by less than 75%. This disparity underscores the structural imbalance between wages and housing costs, a gap that cannot be bridged solely by traditional market mechanisms. Without intervention, the housing market risks becoming increasingly exclusionary, limiting access to homeownership and eroding the foundation of economic mobility.

Beyond economics, cultural factors play a significant role in shaping housing trends. For decades, the pursuit of status through material possessions influenced consumer preferences, encouraging the construction of larger homes as symbols of success. Golf memberships, luxury cars, and sprawling properties became markers of achievement, reinforcing a cycle of materialism that drove housing design. However, contemporary social values are shifting. Younger generations prioritize experiences, sustainability, and financial flexibility over conspicuous consumption. They are less interested in impressing neighbors with square footage and more concerned with affordability and quality of life. This cultural evolution underscores the need for housing policies and development strategies that align with changing societal norms. Yet the industry has been slow to adapt, clinging to outdated assumptions about what buyers want. Compounding the affordability crisis is the growing influence of institutional investors such as Blackstone, Invitation Homes, and other private equity firms that have acquired tens of thousands of single-family homes across the country. These firms often purchase distressed properties in bulk, outbidding individual buyers with cash offers, and then convert these homes into rental units. This practice accelerates the transition from an ownership-based society to a rental-based one, echoing predictions from the World Economic Forum that “you will own nothing and be happy.” While such statements are controversial, they highlight the structural forces reshaping housing markets globally and the erosion of the American Dream. Institutional investors operate with access to cheap capital and sophisticated financial instruments, enabling them to dominate local markets and set rental prices that further strain household budgets. When ownership becomes unattainable, wealth accumulation stalls, and generational inequality deepens, creating a society increasingly divided along economic lines. The presence of these investors also distorts housing supply, as homes that could serve as affordable entry points for families are removed from the ownership pool and repurposed for profit-driven rental schemes.

Failure to address this imbalance has profound social and economic consequences. Young adults delay marriage and family formation because they cannot afford homes. Communities lose stability as homeownership declines, and wealth inequality deepens as property ownership consolidates among institutional investors. Ultimately, the American Dream of homeownership becomes unattainable for a growing segment of the population. The current housing crisis reflects a failure to adapt to evolving market realities and cultural values. Continuing to build large, expensive homes in the face of declining affordability and changing consumer preferences is economically unsustainable and socially detrimental. A strategic pivot toward smaller, affordable housing—akin to the post-WWII ranch-style model—offers a viable solution to restore accessibility to the American Dream. Developers, policymakers, and financial institutions must recognize that the market is in charge, not the egos of those who seek to maximize profit at the expense of social stability. If this shift does not occur, the consequences will ripple across generations, transforming a nation of homeowners into a nation of renters and undermining the very foundation of American prosperity. The time to act is now: by embracing affordability, sustainability, and inclusivity, the housing industry can realign with the values that once made homeownership a cornerstone of American life. But price increases, as a solution to fill the empty minds of vacant personalities, are the driving force here. Everyone can’t be rich; they don’t have a mind for it, nor do they want it. But we have been caught in giving everyone a sense of wealth without them doing the work of wealth, and in the process, we have opened Pandora’s box of illusion that many are perfectly willing to exploit for a short-term gain. But the cost of those short-term gains is now before us, and it’s wrapped up in this whole affordability debate. And looming in the background is the mechanisms of Marxism that knew what they were doing all along. Once people throw in the towel, what will they want? That’s what has happened in New York with the new communist mayor there. And behind it all, there is a push to hide from the world the moral bankruptcy of the instigators if what gets ushered in behind the carnage is socialism and government-driven price controls. When really, what was needed all along were market-driven sentiments of pure capitalism; if only people had listened to those market forces instead of trying to control them.

References:

[1] U.S. Census Bureau. Historical Housing Data, 1945–1960.

[2] U.S. Census Bureau. Median Income Trends, 1945–1960.

[3] National Association of Realtors. Housing Price Trends, 1980.

[4] Federal Reserve Economic Data (FRED). Median Home Prices, 2000.

[5] Federal Reserve Economic Data (FRED). Median Home Prices, 2020.

[6] Housing Affordability Index Report, 2024.

Rich Hoffman

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

Justice Deferred: Why Prosecutions Under Trump’s Second Term Remain Slow—and What Global Parallels Reveal

Donald Trump’s second term reignited expectations of sweeping accountability for political corruption. Yet, despite strong rhetoric and high-profile promises, major prosecutions remain elusive. One year into Trump’s second term, the question persists: Why haven’t the big names gone to jail? Hillary Clinton remains free, despite years of allegations. The Clintons’ ties to corruption, Epstein’s network, and the weaponization of law enforcement against Trump allies have fueled public frustration. From Rudy Giuliani to Peter Navarro, loyalists have faced bankruptcy and imprisonment for defending election integrity. Meanwhile, figures like Letitia James and James Comey—central to prosecutorial misconduct—walk free after cases were dismissed due to procedural irregularities, not innocence.

This paradox underscores a deeper truth: prosecutions are not merely legal acts—they are political acts requiring stability, mandate, and timing. In a polarized nation, aggressive prosecutions without securing legislative dominance risk triggering retaliatory cycles, undermining the very agenda they aim to protect.

The dismissal of cases against Letitia James and James Comey illustrates the fragility of prosecutorial authority. A federal judge recently threw out charges citing the unlawful appointment of Lindsey Halligan as interim U.S. attorney, despite clear evidence of misconduct. The crime was procedural, not substantive—a loophole exploited to shield political elites from accountability1.

This is not unique. DOJ statistics reveal that high-profile political cases often span 3–7 years from indictment to resolution, with declination rates exceeding 39% when political volatility threatens institutional legitimacy2. Prosecutors, like any actors, weigh personal risk: firebomb threats, reputational ruin, and career destruction loom large when partisan control can flip overnight.

Trump’s own experience reinforces this caution. His first term saw relentless lawfare—Mueller investigations, impeachment trials, and civil suits—weaponized to cripple his agenda. The lesson? Without a stable mandate, prosecutions become pyrrhic victories, inviting reciprocal vengeance when power shifts.

The human toll of this legal warfare is staggering. Rudy Giuliani, once America’s Mayor, now faces $1.36 million in unpaid legal fees, with bankruptcy looming3. Mike Lindell, the MyPillow CEO, has liquidated assets to fund election integrity lawsuits, burning through millions4. Tina Peters, a Colorado clerk, sits in jail for investigating election fraud—a chilling precedent for dissent5.

These cases illustrate the asymmetry of lawfare: defending truth costs fortunes, while weaponizing law costs taxpayers. The financial attrition of Trump allies serves as a deterrent, signaling to future operatives that loyalty carries existential risk.

Enter the Epstein files—a political gambit disguised as transparency. Democrats, desperate to derail Trump ahead of midterms, embraced Epstein disclosures as a “gotcha” strategy, betting on salacious ties to tarnish MAGA credibility6. What they miscalculated was Trump’s counterplay: full release of the files, exposing a Democratic nexus of sexual trafficking, influence peddling, and elite corruption7.

This maneuver exemplifies asymmetric warfare: bait the opposition into overreach, then detonate the trap. As Trump played it, “rat poison in the nest”—a tactic to implode the colony from within. The fallout promises to be seismic, not for Trump, but for the progressive aristocracy entangled in Epstein’s web.

Brazil offers a cautionary mirror. Jair Bolsonaro, ousted after contesting election fraud, now faces 27 years in prison for an alleged coup attempt8. His successor, Lula da Silva—himself a convict released to reclaim power—embodies the cyclical weaponization of law. The message is clear: in politicized systems, justice is not blind; it is partisan.

For MAGA strategists, Bolsonaro’s fate underscores the imperative of institutional entrenchment. Without securing Congress and insulating the judiciary, Trump’s prosecutions risk reversal under a Democratic resurgence.

According to the Bureau of Justice Statistics, U.S. attorneys prosecuted 61% of suspects in matters concluded in FY 2023, with political cases often delayed beyond five years due to appeals and procedural challenges2. The median time from investigation to decision: 61 days, but high-profile cases involving political figures skew far longer, often requiring special counsel oversight.

Public impatience for “perp walks” is understandable. Yet, in the calculus of power, timing trumps theatrics. Immediate arrests may gratify the base but jeopardize the agenda if Democrats reclaim legislative control. Trump’s restraint is not weakness—it is war by other means.

The Epstein gambit, midterm positioning, and structural reforms signal a long game: secure the mandate, then strike decisively. Until then, justice remains deferred—not denied. I would say to all who are seeking justice, defend Trump for the midterms, keep the Democrats running for the hills. And sweep them up once the rat nest is poisoned and they can no longer do any harm. But don’t play nice with them. They would never give you the same benefit.

References

NBC News. Judge dismisses cases against James Comey and Letitia James after finding prosecutor was unlawfully appointed. Nov. 24, 2025.1

Bureau of Justice Statistics. Federal Justice Statistics, 2023. March 2025.2

USA Today. Rudy Giuliani must pay his defense lawyers $1.36 million. Sept. 17, 2025.3

CBS News. Convicted Colorado election clerk Tina Peters transfer controversy. Nov. 23, 2025.4

PBS News. Trump signs bill to release Jeffrey Epstein case files. Nov. 20, 2025.7

CBS News. Jair Bolsonaro arrested before serving 27-year sentence for coup attempt. Nov. 22, 2025.8

To understand why prosecutions under Trump’s second term remain slow, we must situate this phenomenon within a broader historical and theoretical context. Lawfare—the strategic use of legal systems as instruments of political warfare—is not an American invention. It is a global sport, played with Machiavellian finesse and Foucauldian precision

Consider South Korea: former presidents Park Geun-hye and Lee Myung-bak were imprisoned for corruption, only to be pardoned later in a theatrical display of political mercy. This oscillation between punishment and absolution mirrors Michel Foucault’s thesis on power as a dynamic, relational force rather than a static possession [1]. In Israel, Benjamin Netanyahu’s corruption trials have dragged on for years, punctuated by coalition collapses and judicial reforms—a case study in how legal timing intersects with political survival [2].

Historical parallels abound. Watergate, often romanticized as a triumph of accountability, was in fact a slow burn. The scandal erupted in 1972, yet Nixon resigned only in 1974 after exhaustive hearings and strategic delays. Roman legal systems offer an even older template: prosecutions were frequently deferred until political winds shifted, illustrating Cicero’s dictum that law is the servant of politics, not its master [3].

Theoretical frameworks enrich this analysis. Machiavelli, in The Prince, counseled rulers to appear just while wielding power ruthlessly—a maxim evident in Trump’s calibrated restraint. Foucault’s Discipline and Punish reminds us that law is a technology of control, deployed to normalize behavior and consolidate authority [4]. When Trump delays prosecutions, he is not abdicating justice; he is performing sovereignty, signaling that timing—not immediacy—defines true dominion.

Global data corroborates this thesis. Transparency International reports that high-profile political prosecutions in democracies average 4–6 years from indictment to resolution, with delays often justified as procedural safeguards [5]. In Brazil, Lula da Silva’s conviction and subsequent resurgence exemplify lawfare’s cyclical nature: today’s convict is tomorrow’s kingmaker [6].

This expanded lens reframes Trump’s strategy as part of a transnational pattern: justice deferred is not justice denied—it is justice weaponized. The playful irony? While pundits clamor for perp walks, seasoned strategists know that the real game is chess, not checkers. Arrests gratify the mob; timing secures the throne.

Footnotes:
[1] Foucault, M. (1977). Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. Vintage Books.
[2] Peleg, I. (2023). Judicial Politics in Israel: Between Law and Power. Israel Studies Review.
[3] Cicero, M.T. (54 BCE). De Legibus.
[4] Machiavelli, N. (1532). The Prince.
[5] Transparency International. Global Corruption Report, 2024.
[6] Hunter, W. (2020). The Politics of Corruption in Brazil. Journal of Democracy.

Bibliography

Foucault, M. (1977). Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. Vintage Books.

Machiavelli, N. (1532). The Prince.

Cicero, M.T. (54 BCE). De Legibus.

Peleg, I. (2023). Judicial Politics in Israel: Between Law and Power. Israel Studies Review.

Transparency International. Global Corruption Report, 2024.

Hunter, W. (2020). The Politics of Corruption in Brazil. Journal of Democracy.

Rich Hoffman

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

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