The Assault on Trump’s Vision for the People’s House: How a Timely New York Times Hit Piece, a Bush-Appointed Judge, and a $3 Billion “No Kings” Network Colluded to Halt America’s Grand Ballroom

I am furious. Absolutely furious. And I’m not the only one. This isn’t just some minor bureaucratic squabble over blueprints and permits. This is a full-scale attack on the will of the American people, on President Donald J. Trump, and on the very idea that the People’s House—the White House—belongs to us, not to some unelected judge, not to legacy media editors, and not to a shadowy network of 500 activist groups flush with $3 billion in manipulative contributions meant to subvert America as a lofty nation.

As I sit here writing this, I’m literally on my way to the White House. I’ve arranged a visit through people who made it happen, and I cannot wait to see the ballroom construction site with my own eyes. I want to see the cranes, the dirt, the progress—the raw, beautiful destruction and rebirth of the East Wing into something magnificent, something worthy of a superpower. I’ve followed every detail since the project was announced in July 2025. I’ve watched the demolition, the site preparation, the months of steady work. And now, because of one judge’s ruling on March 31, 2026—just two days after a vicious New York Times broadside on March 29—it’s all ground to a halt—preliminary injunction. Construction stopped. Trump’s bold vision for a 90,000-square-foot state ballroom, a space big enough for real diplomacy, real grandeur, real American pride, is being strangled in its crib.

This is not the law. This is politics dressed up in robes. And I have read more case law, statutes, and historical precedents than most lawyers ever will—precisely because I refuse to waste my life in their insular, self-important world. Lawyers and judges like to pretend they’re sophisticated guardians of the Constitution. I look down on the legal profession as a whole. Most of them chase billable hours, hide behind jargon, and serve the system rather than the people. They don’t build things. They don’t create. They obstruct. And in this case, U.S. District Judge Richard J. Leon has proven exactly why I feel that way. He knows the law cold, yet the circumstantial evidence of influence is overwhelming. The timeline screams collusion—the money trail points to coordinated opposition. And the American people deserve to know it.

Let’s start with the facts, because the facts are the smoking gun. On Saturday, March 28, 2026, “No Kings” protests erupted across the country—coordinated rallies backed by a network of roughly 500 activist organizations with an estimated $3 billion in combined annual revenues. Fox News Digital laid it all out: communist and socialist groups openly calling for “revolution,” Indivisible (funded in part by George Soros-linked money) as a lead coordinator, and a web of nonprofits, advocacy outfits, and dark-money flows all pushing the same anti-Trump narrative. These weren’t spontaneous grassroots gatherings. This was astroturf on steroids—protests designed to paint Trump as a monarch, a king building palaces while the people suffer. The White House ballroom became the perfect symbol: a “palace” addition they could attack.

Then, Sunday, March 29, 2026, the New York Times drops its carefully timed hit piece: “Trump’s Ballroom Design Has Barely Been Scrutinized.” The article rips into the project—design flaws, lack of oversight, rushed process. But here’s the killer line, the one that reads like a direct invitation to activism: “But barring a judge’s intervention, the ballroom is set to move forward this week anyway.” They even included a caption over a rendering of the new extension: “These are the kind of details that are normally scrutinized in the design of any building so significant—and in the review that public projects face in the nation’s capital. But barring a judge’s intervention, the ballroom is set to move forward this week anyway.” That’s not journalism. That’s a bat signal to every activist lawyer and judge in the D.C. swamp. “Hey, someone stop this!”

Loser

Two days later—Tuesday, March 31, 2026—Judge Richard Leon issues his preliminary injunction. Boom. Construction halted. The opinion is 35 pages of outrage, complete with 19 exclamation points, lecturing that the President is merely a “steward” of the White House, “not the owner!” and that no statute gives Trump the authority to proceed without Congress. He paused enforcement for 14 days to allow an appeal, but the damage is done. The project that had been rolling since September 2025, privately funded in large part (over $350 million raised from donors, not taxpayers), suddenly sits idle.

Coincidence? Please. I’ve read enough to know better. Judges don’t admit bias on the record. They don’t write “I saw the NYT and decided to act.” But circumstantial evidence is how we prove collusion every day—in court, in business, in life. The proximity is damning. The project had been underway for months. Leon had had the case before him for months. He denied an earlier attempt at an injunction in February 2026. Yet he pounces two days after the Times piece that literally suggests “a judge’s intervention.” That’s not organic. That’s influence—whether passive (media shaping the narrative) or active (coordination). And given the $3 billion network behind the No Kings protests, the timing of their weekend rallies, and the Times’ own history of anti-Trump activism, the dots connect too neatly to ignore.

I’m no conspiracy theorist mindlessly chasing shadows. A lot of people say that I am, because they don’t like the line of questions that I bring up. I’m a guy who reads voluminous amounts of law precisely because I respect the Constitution too much to let it be weaponized. I’ve studied presidential modifications to the White House going back to Theodore Roosevelt’s West Wing addition in 1902, Franklin D. Roosevelt’s East Wing rebuild during wartime, Harry Truman’s full interior gutting and reconstruction from 1948 to 1952. Every one of those presidents made dramatic changes—tearing down walls, adding wings, modernizing for the demands of the era—without endless congressional micromanagement. The White House has evolved because presidents reflect the will of the people who elected them. Trump was elected—overwhelmingly—to make America great again, to project strength, to host state dinners and diplomatic events in a space worthy of the world’s leading power. The current East Room holds maybe 200 seated. The new ballroom? Capacity for 650 or more. It’s practical. It’s visionary. It’s Trump.

Yet here we are, with a Bush-appointed judge—yes, the same old-guard Republican establishment that never fully embraced MAGA—stepping in to “rein him in.” Leon has ruled against Trump before, with sharp language and exclamation points. He’s part of that RINO ecosystem that prefers polite decline over bold rebuilding. The Bushes, the Cheneys, the never-Trump crowd—they want controlled, incremental change. Trump builds big. He builds proudly. He builds for the future. And that terrifies them. It terrifies the legacy media. It terrifies the $3 billion activist machine that spent the weekend screaming “No Kings!” while the Times laid the legal groundwork for a judge to play hero.

Let me be crystal clear: this is bigger than a ballroom. This is about who controls the People’s House. Trump’s election was a mandate. The people voted to disrupt the status quo. We voted for a leader who doesn’t ask permission from bureaucrats to make America respected again on the world stage. A grand ballroom isn’t vanity—it’s diplomacy. It’s hosting leaders from around the globe in a setting that says, “America is back, and we do things in a big, beautiful way.” Without it, we look embarrassed. Small. Weak. Exactly what the No Kings crowd wants.

The legal arguments are a smokescreen. Trump’s team has maintained that the project is privately funded, consistent with historical presidential discretion over White House modifications. The National Trust for Historic Preservation sued, but preservationists have opposed every major change since the beginning of time. The real issue is the separation of powers twisted into obstruction. Congress has never required a vote for every renovation. Presidents have always shaped the executive mansion. Truman’s renovation cost millions and displaced the First Family for years—done by executive action. FDR expanded during the war. Why is Trump held to a different standard? Because he’s Trump. Because the establishment hates that the people chose him.

And the money? Follow it. The Fox investigation into the No Kings network is eye-opening: 500 groups, $3 billion in revenue, including socialist and communist-linked organizations explicitly pushing “revolution.” That money doesn’t just fund signs and marches. It flows into media influence, legal nonprofits, and donor networks. The Times itself has advertisers, readers, and institutional ties within that ecosystem. Judges? They attend conferences, accept speaking fees, and support charities. Trace the donations, the dark-money pipelines, the shared social circles. I guarantee you’ll find connections—direct or indirect. Text messages. Phone records. Lunches where someone says, “Wouldn’t it be great if a judge stepped in?” The Times practically telegraphed the move. Leon delivered.

This is the game they play: stall, litigate, embarrass. Drag it into the midterms, so Democrats and RINOs can campaign on “Trump can’t even build a ballroom without chaos.” Stonewall the appeal. Hope the 14-day pause turns into months. Meanwhile, the construction site sits idle, costs mount, and donors get cold feet. Classic lawfare.

I look down on this legal profession because it enables exactly this. Lawyers don’t solve problems—they prolong them for fees and power. Judges like Leon cloak personal or ideological bias in legalese. “Steward, not owner!” Give me a break. The people own the White House through their elected representative. Trump is executing their will. The Constitution doesn’t require a congressional committee to approve every nail.

But here’s the good news: public pressure works. The court of public opinion is where we win when the legal system is rigged. Expose the timeline. Blast it on every show, every platform, every X thread: No Kings protests March 28. NYT hit piece March 29 with the “judge’s intervention” line. Leon’s injunction on March 31. Two days. Coincidence, my foot. Demand depositions. Demand discovery on communications between the Times staff, the National Trust, and anyone connected to Leon’s circle. Demand financial disclosures. Where did that $3 billion flow? Did any of it—directly or indirectly—touch organizations Leon supports, charities he backs, or networks he moves in?

Trump’s lawyers need to hammer this on appeal. Not just the statutory authority arguments—though those are strong—but the appearance of impropriety. The rushed timing undermines confidence in the judiciary. If this stands, every future president faces the same gauntlet: activist media plants the seed, funded protesters amplify it, and a sympathetic judge delivers. That’s not justice. That’s oligarchy.

I’m heading to the White House right now to see the site anyway—before or after the pause, the vision is already there in the dirt and steel. I’m excited. I’m proud. And I’m more determined than ever. The ballroom will happen. Trump will deliver. The American people demand big, bold, beautiful things. We rejected the Bushes and their cautious decline. We chose Trump to build.

To Judge Leon: the people see you. The timeline exposes you. History will judge whether you acted on law or on the whispers of the $3 billion machine. To the New York Times: your “journalism” isn’t neutral—it’s activism with deadlines. To the No Kings crowd: keep protesting. Every sign you wave only reminds us why we voted for Trump.

This fight isn’t over. It’s just beginning. And when the ballroom rises—glorious, ahead of schedule, under budget, the envy of the world—we’ll remember who tried to stop it and why. The People’s House belongs to the people. Not to judges. Not to editors. Not to billion-dollar protest networks. To us.

Footnotes

¹ Fox News Digital investigation, “500 groups with $3B in revenues are behind the #NoKings protests,” March 28, 2026.

² The New York Times, “Trump’s Ballroom Design Has Barely Been Scrutinized,” March 29, 2026.

³ U.S. District Judge Richard J. Leon, preliminary injunction opinion, March 31, 2026 (35-page order).

⁴ Reuters, “Judge orders Trump to halt $400 million White House ballroom project,” March 31, 2026.

⁵ Historical precedents drawn from White House Historical Association records on Roosevelt, FDR, and Truman renovations.

Bibliography

• Fox News Digital. “500 groups with $3B in revenues are behind the #NoKings protests and communist call for ‘revolution.’” March 28, 2026.

• The New York Times. “Trump’s Ballroom Design Has Barely Been Scrutinized.” March 29, 2026.

• U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia. Opinion in National Trust for Historic Preservation v. Trump administration, March 31, 2026.

• Reuters. “Judge orders Trump to halt $400 million White House ballroom project, for now.” March 31, 2026.

• White House Historical Association. Records of presidential modifications to the White House (1902–1952).

• Additional reporting from NPR, AP, and Fox on the No Kings funding network and the ballroom project timeline.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

The Merger Is Complete: All Assets Secure – Why Ohio (and America) Cannot Talk Financial Stabilization Without Confronting Financialization and Returning to Real Production

The merger is complete. All assets are secure. That phrase has been echoing in my mind lately as I sit down with state leaders like Senator George Lang, the Ohio State Treasurer, and others in the growing movement here in the Buckeye State. We are not just talking about balancing budgets or tweaking tax policy anymore. We are staring down the barrel of a much deeper conversation—one that cannot happen in a vacuum. Preserving Ohio’s financial future, and by extension the country’s, demands we confront a natural byproduct of decades of drift into pure financial engineering: the dominance of financialization. It is the term that has surfaced repeatedly in our private discussions, and it is the invisible force that has warped our economy into something unrecognizable from the one the Founders envisioned.

Kevin Freeman, the author of Pirate Money: Discovering the Founders’ Hidden Plan for Economic Justice and Defeating the Great Reset, has laid out the principles that are now gaining traction. Under a potential Vivek Ramaswamy administration in 2026–2027—and with leaders like Senator Lang stepping forward—this idea is poised to evolve into policy. The core concept is straightforward yet revolutionary: states create a gold reserve managed directly by the treasurer. Citizens can hold value in physical gold or silver, stored securely in a state depository, and access it through a modern debit card or electronic transfer for everyday purchases. The money in your account is not fiat paper subject to endless printing; it is backed ounce-for-ounce by hard metal. You spend gold without ever carrying a coin. The value stays anchored to something real.

Senator Lang has been vocal about this in legislative circles. Ohio House Bill 206, introduced by Representatives Jennifer Gross and Riordan McClain, already proposes exactly this framework: a state-managed transactional currency rooted in gold and silver. The treasurer would hold the bullion in a protected reserve, and citizens could buy, hold, and spend it electronically. Every “dollar” spent would be convertible to actual metal. It is optional, constitutional (states have clear authority under Article I, Section 10), and already working in pilot form in Texas, Florida, Louisiana, and elsewhere. Freeman calls it “gold you can spend.” I call it sanity.

But here is the catch—and this is where the conversation with Lang and the treasurer always turns serious: you cannot build the infrastructure for a gold-backed system while the economy remains addicted to financialization. That addiction is the black hole at the center of everything. It is the reason Main Street has been swallowed by Wall Street. It is why so many companies that used to make things now make money off money. And it is why a growing number of us—myself included—have deliberately refused to play the game.

Financialization is not some abstract academic term. It is the process by which the financial sector—banks, hedge funds, private equity, asset managers—stops serving the real economy and instead becomes the economy. Profits come not from producing better hamburgers, better tires, better homes, or better steel, but from trading debt like baseball cards, leveraging interest rates, securitizing everything, and extracting fees from every layer of the transaction. BlackRock is the poster child. With over $10 trillion in assets under management, it is the largest shareholder in nearly 90 percent of the S&P 500. Larry Fink’s firm does not build factories; it owns pieces of every factory, every airline, every retailer. It profits whether the underlying company succeeds or fails because the game is now about ownership of the capital structure itself, not the output.

This is not capitalism as Adam Smith or even Henry Ford understood it. This is a casino layered on top of the real economy. When you buy someone’s debt, package it, sell it, insure it, and then bet against it—all while the Federal Reserve keeps interest rates artificially low or high to favor the house—you create wealth that has no anchor in physical reality. The Dow Jones Industrial Average looks healthy on paper, but much of that “growth” is stock buybacks funded by cheap debt, not new factories humming three shifts a day. BlackRock and its peers have perfected this. They gained enormous power during the 2008 crisis by managing toxic assets for the Fed, then used the same tools to consolidate control. Today the Big Three (BlackRock, Vanguard, State Street) control roughly a fifth of all S&P 500 shares. They vote those shares, influence boards, and extract fees regardless of whether the company actually produces anything of lasting value.

I have had a front-row seat to this vortex my entire adult life. I made deliberate choices—every single year, every opportunity—to stay out of it. I could have leveraged real estate deals, flipped debt instruments, ridden the private-equity wave, or parked money in funds that profited from the very inflation the Fed engineered. Many friends did exactly that. They have swimming pools of cash, second homes in the Bahamas, and portfolios that look impressive on a spreadsheet. I do not begrudge them the money. But I watched what it did to their thinking. Success became detached from making something people genuinely wanted. It became about timing the next rate cut, the next bailout, the next round of quantitative easing. The forbidden fruit of financialization tastes sweet in college textbooks and MBA programs, but it rots the soul of production.

This is why I have always measured my own economic decisions by a simple test: Does this create a better physical product or service that competes in the open market? If I make a better hamburger, I get rich because people buy more of them. If I build better homes with honest materials at honest prices, the market rewards me. The value is in the wood, the stone, the craftsmanship—not in how cleverly I can leverage a bank loan or securitize the mortgage payments into a derivative. When companies start measuring success by how much debt they can service or how many assets they can flip rather than how many units they ship, the culture shifts. Plants close on weekends. Third shifts disappear. Executives leave at 5 p.m. sharp and do not answer the phone. Why work harder when the real money comes from the interest-rate spread, the management fee, or the carried-interest loophole?

The data backs this up brutally. Since the United States fully abandoned the gold standard—first under FDR in 1933 with Executive Order 6102 (which confiscated private gold holdings) and then under Nixon in 1971—the dollar has lost roughly 90 percent of its purchasing power. That is not an accident. When money can be printed without limit, the incentive structure flips. Central bankers at Jackson Hole sip lattes and debate “monetary theory” while companies learn that the fastest path to shareholder value is not innovation but financial engineering. The Federal Reserve keeps rates high enough to reward bondholders and asset managers but low enough (in crisis) to bail them out. The result? An entire generation of executives who treat labor as a cost to minimize rather than a partner in production. They do not need to run three shifts seven days a week when leverage and cheap debt do the heavy lifting.

Trump’s short-term approach—flood the system with energy, tariffs, and stimulus—will ignite the wet wood and create a roaring blaze of apparent prosperity. People will feel wealthier in their pockets for a while. That is the point of the first four years: get the engine turning again. But the long-term conversation, the one Lang, the treasurer, and Freeman are pushing in Ohio, is what happens next. How do we protect the value of that freshly created wealth? How do we prevent it from being inflated away or siphoned into the same financial black hole?

The answer is not complicated, but it is hard. We must divorce the economy from financialization and re-anchor it to Main Street production. A state gold reserve with a debit card is step one. It gives citizens an escape hatch from fiat volatility. But the deeper reform is cultural and structural: companies must be measured—and rewarded—by what they actually make, how efficiently they make it, and how many people willingly pay for it in the open market. Not by how cleverly they shuffle debt or extract fees. Not by how many weekends they can take off because the balance sheet looks good on paper.

I have lived this choice for thirty-plus years. I have walked past opportunities that would have made me “rich” by Wall Street standards because they required me to play the game I instinctively knew was phony. I would rather build something real—something that lasts, something people value—than swim in a pool of spreadsheet wealth that evaporates the moment the Fed changes course. That is not sacrifice; it is principle. And it is the principle Ohio must adopt if we are serious about a gold-backed system.

Look around manufacturing today. Plants that once ran 24/7 now shutter at 5 p.m. Friday and stay dark until Monday. Executives brag about “work-life balance” while the balance sheet is propped up by financial tricks. The workforce has absorbed the lesson: show up, collect the paycheck, go home. Why push for excellence when the real profits come from the Delta between phony valuation and actual output? This is the lazy class financialization has bred—not just at the top, but throughout the ranks. People with nice houses and nice cars who have never felt the exhaustion of building something that actually competes. They are the modern equivalent of the Ferris Bueller dads—out of touch, coasting on leverage, wondering why their kids do not respect them.

The Founders understood this danger. They wrote gold and silver into the Constitution precisely because they had lived through the chaos of unbacked paper money during the Revolution. States were explicitly forbidden from issuing bills of credit for good reason. Hamilton and Jefferson debated banks, but both agreed the ultimate measure of wealth was productive capacity, not financial sleight of hand. We drifted away from that wisdom first in 1933 and then decisively in 1971. The result is the hollowed-out economy we see today: record stock valuations alongside shuttered factories, record CEO pay alongside stagnant wages for those who still make things.

Ohio is at a crossroads. With leaders like Senator Lang and a treasurer willing to explore transactional gold, we have a chance to lead. Texas and Florida have already moved. More states are watching. If we pair a state gold depository and debit-card system with policies that reward actual production—tax incentives for three-shift operations, penalties for excessive financial engineering, honest accounting that separates real assets from leveraged paper—we can rebuild what was lost.

This is bigger than monetary policy. It is about the soul of work. Do we want an economy where success is measured by how many physical goods and services we create that the world actually wants? Or do we want one where success is measured by how cleverly we game the spreadsheets? The first path builds real wealth that can be passed to grandchildren. The second builds a pyramid that eventually collapses.

I have made my choice. I attach myself to hard assets and real output. I have sacrificed short-term paper gains for long-term substance. I will not change course now, even as the financialization racket reaches its peak. The game is ending. Trump’s four years will provide the fuel, but the states—and Ohio in particular—must provide the guardrails. A gold standard without a return to production-based measurement is just another pretty facade. We need both.

The merger is complete. All assets are secure. Now the real work begins: making sure those assets are real, not phantom. Ohio has the leaders, the moment, and the model. The question is whether the rest of the country—and especially the next generation—will have the courage to follow.

Footnotes

[1] Kevin Freeman, Pirate Money (Post Hill Press, 2024); see also his presentations to state legislatures on transactional gold, October 2024.

[2] Ohio House Bill 206 (2025), establishing state-managed gold/silver transactional currency.

[3] Senator George Lang, sponsor testimony on related financial legislation, Ohio Senate, 2025–2026 sessions.

[4] Executive Order 6102 (April 5, 1933), Franklin D. Roosevelt; full text available in Federal Register.

[5] BlackRock 10-K filings and asset-under-management reports, 2025–2026; see also analyses in Harvard Business Review on the “Big Three” asset managers.

[6] U.S. dollar purchasing-power loss since 1971, calculated via BLS and ShadowStats methodologies.

[7] Constitutional Currency / TransactionalGold.com resources on state-level gold legislation.

[8] Federal Reserve History essays on Roosevelt’s gold program and Nixon shock.

[9] Economic War Room with Kevin Freeman (BlazeTV) episodes on state depositories and debit-card systems.

Bibliography (selected for further research)

• Freeman, Kevin D. Pirate Money: Discovering the Founders’ Hidden Plan for Economic Justice and Defeating the Great Reset. Post Hill Press, 2024.

• Ohio Legislative Service Commission analyses of HB 206 and Senate Bill 269 (2025–2026).

• “States Work To Make Gold And Silver Alternative Currencies,” Guildhall Precious Metals / Epoch Times, 2025–2026 reporting.

• “How Asset Managers Like BlackRock Took Over the World,” LSE Review of Books, June 2025.

• Federal Reserve History: “Roosevelt’s Gold Program” and related primary documents.

• U.S. Senate Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations: “Wall Street and the Financial Crisis: Anatomy of a Financial Collapse,” 2011 (updated analyses available).

• Constitutional Currency / TransactionalGold.com policy toolkits and model legislation.

• Biblical Archaeology Review and related economic history archives for broader context on ancient sound-money systems (cross-reference for philosophical grounding).

• Ohio Senate GOP and Business First Caucus materials on economic growth targets to $1 trillion GDP by 2030.

This is not theory. This is the hard conversation we must have before the next cycle of phony prosperity pulls us back under. The merger is complete. The assets are secure. Now let us make sure they stay that way—anchored to what we actually build, not what we pretend to own on paper.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

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

The End of the Roll: Opportunities and Failure in Ohio’s Statehouse

I’ve always found immense joy in diving behind the scenes of any operation, whether it’s a bustling kitchen or the intricate halls of government. Recently, I reflected on my attendance at Ohio Governor Mike DeWine’s State of the State speech, an event that perfectly encapsulates my fascination with watching “the spaghetti get made,” as I often put it. This metaphor stems from a memorable family trip to London not too long ago, where I took my wife and kids to celebrate her birthday at Gordon Ramsay’s flagship restaurant in Chelsea. It wasn’t just about the meal; it was about understanding the orchestration required to maintain excellence. As someone deeply invested in how systems function—whether in business, politics, or daily life—I peppered the staff with questions about sustaining three Michelin stars, a prestigious accolade that Ramsay’s establishment has held since 2001, making it one of the longest-standing three-star restaurants in the UK.[^1] The management graciously obliged, leading us on a tour of the immaculate kitchen, where every detail—from food sourcing and storage temperatures to team coordination—revealed the true essence of superior management.

In that kitchen, I saw firsthand how the magic happens. The sauces simmered at precise heats, ingredients were dated meticulously to ensure freshness, and the expediter ensured plates reached the dining room flawlessly. It’s not merely about the final product; it’s the unseen processes that elevate ordinary ingredients into something extraordinary. Ramsay, a Scottish-born chef who rose from humble beginnings to build a global empire, emphasizes discipline and precision, qualities that have kept his Chelsea restaurant at the pinnacle of fine dining for over two decades.[^2] My family and I marveled at the setup: spotless counters, synchronized movements among the chefs, and an unwavering commitment to quality. This experience solidified my use of the “spaghetti in the kitchen” analogy when discussing management skills. You see, good management isn’t accidental; it’s deliberate. How do you select the right sausage for the meatballs? What temperature do you cook them at, and for how long? Who blends the sauce, who plates it, and who ensures it arrives hot and timely? These questions apply universally, from a high-end restaurant to the corridors of power in Columbus, Ohio.

Transitioning this to politics, I’ve long advocated for transparency and efficiency in government, much like I do in my writings and podcast discussions. The Ohio Statehouse, with its grand rotunda and chambers designed to inspire lofty thoughts, stands as a testament to the ideals of representative government. Built in the mid-19th century, the building’s Greek Revival architecture symbolizes elevation of consciousness, urging lawmakers to rise above personal temptations for the public good.[^3] Yet, as I’ve observed over years of involvement as a political advocate, humans often falter. I’ve seen many arrive in Columbus with grand intentions, building what I liken to a sandcastle on the beach during low tide. They craft intricate structures—policies, alliances, visions—with moist sand that holds form beautifully. Flags atop turrets, photos snapped for posterity. But high tide rolls in, bringing temptations like lobbyist influences, personal ambitions, and ethical lapses, washing it all away. Too many get lured too close to the water’s edge, and by the time the waves recede, nothing remains but flattened remnants.

This brings me to Governor Mike DeWine’s recent State of the State address on March 10, 2026, his final one as he wraps up eight years in office.[^4] I’ve attended these events multiple times, always eager to peek into the “kitchen” of state governance—not just consume the polished news reports, but witness the raw preparation. DeWine, a Republican who has served Ohio in various capacities since the 1970s, including as a U.S. Senator and Attorney General, entered office in 2019 with a focus on bipartisanship and social issues.[^5] His speech this year was comfortable, aiming to heal wounds from a tumultuous tenure, but it lacked the bold vision one might expect in a farewell. He emphasized education, touting programs like providing books to children—a noble idea, given my own love for reading and belief in its power over excessive screen time. Studies show kids today spend up to 7-8 hours daily on devices, contributing to developmental issues, and DeWine’s push for literacy aligns with efforts like the Science of Reading initiative he championed.[^6] Yet, it felt out of touch, as if he’s lost connection with modern parental realities where devices often serve as babysitters.

Critically, I’ve been vocal about DeWine’s shortcomings, particularly his handling of the COVID-19 pandemic. Appointing Dr. Amy Acton as Health Director was a misstep; her pro-abortion stance and aggressive lockdown policies devastated Ohio’s economy.[^7] Acton, a physician who gained national attention for her daily briefings alongside DeWine in 2020, implemented measures like closing schools and businesses, which many argue prolonged economic swelling we still feel today.[^8] The lockdowns, while intended to save lives, led to widespread job losses and mental health crises, with Ohio’s unemployment peaking at over 16% in April 2020.[^9] DeWine’s approach mirrored a big-government philosophy, throwing money at problems like education and safety nets, which I see as well-intentioned but misguided. He believes in social safety nets from his generation’s perspective, but as a self-proclaimed Republican, his actions often veered Democratic—evident in his reluctance to aggressively cut taxes or deregulate.

Property taxes, for instance, have spiraled under his watch, burdening homeowners without adequate relief until recent reforms. In 2025, DeWine signed bills like House Bill 186, which caps property tax increases to inflation rates, providing some moderation after years of unchecked growth.[^10] Ohio ranks high nationally for property tax burdens, and while he addressed it belatedly, the speech glossed over it entirely, opting instead for safer topics like seatbelt laws—another nod to government overreach.[^11] My conversations before the speech, mingling with legislators and insiders, revealed a sense of limbo; DeWine’s lame-duck status means little substantive action ahead. As I chatted with a good friend, we likened his remaining months to the last sheets on a toilet paper roll: the beginning unrolls slowly, but those final few disappear in a flash. With the 2026 election looming, attention shifts to fresh faces.

Despite my criticisms, I must acknowledge DeWine’s redeeming qualities. Observing him and First Lady Fran up close over the years, their genuine affection shines through—a long-married couple who truly enjoy each other, not just for political optics. Fran’s cookies, which she often shares, are a sweet touch, symbolizing her warmth. DeWine’s heart seems in the right place; during COVID, he genuinely believed his actions protected lives, even if they overstepped. Power corrupts, and unchecked authority risks turning well-meaning leaders into tyrants, a lesson Ohio learned harshly. Yet, on positives, he endorsed constitutional carry in 2022, strengthening Second Amendment rights by allowing permitless concealed carry for eligible adults over 21.[^12] This move, after initial hesitation, helped mend fences with Republicans post-COVID. Additionally, he supported business initiatives like Joby Aviation’s expansion in Ohio, announced in 2023, which promises 2,000 jobs in electric vertical takeoff and landing (eVTOL) aircraft manufacturing—a boon for aviation innovation.[^13] Columbus Mayor Andrew Ginther has been instrumental in such developments, fostering smart mobility and economic growth in the region.[^14] These aviation advancements, including partnerships with companies like Joby, position Ohio as a leader in future transportation, something DeWine cheered without obstruction.

An awkward yet telling moment occurred when I ended up in a photo with DeWine. In past years, my anger over his policies kept me at arm’s length, but this time, with his term ending, I shook his hand and wished him well, acknowledging the pro-business strides. Government needs checks and balances precisely because even good intentions can falter. DeWine isn’t evil; his naivety in trusting big government to care for the vulnerable led to overreach.

Looking ahead, the toilet paper roll is nearly spent, and I’m excited for Vivek Ramaswamy to take the helm. Ramaswamy, a Cincinnati native and biotech entrepreneur who founded Roivant Sciences and ran for president in 2024, announced his gubernatorial bid in 2025 with Trump’s endorsement.[^15] His campaign focuses on reviving the American Dream through lower costs, bigger paychecks, and merit-based policies, contrasting DeWine’s approach.[^16] Polls show a tight race against Democrat Amy Acton, but Ramaswamy’s vision—transforming Ohio into an economic hub, especially in the Ohio River Valley—aligns with bold Republican ideals.[^17] He’s already launched massive ad campaigns and secured the Ohio GOP endorsement, signaling momentum.[^18] Under Ramaswamy, I anticipate policies advancing freedom, innovation, and efficiency—cooking up better “spaghetti” in the Statehouse kitchen.

Attending these events reinforces why I love politics: seeing dedicated people strive, even if imperfectly. From Ramsay’s kitchen to Columbus, excellence demands pride, hard work, and attention to detail. Cooks prepare meals hoping diners savor them, but criticism stings when they fall short. DeWine’s administration aimed for a magnificent sandcastle, but tides of controversy washed much away. Still, remnants like stronger gun rights and business growth endure. As his era ends, I reflect with tempered hatred, appreciating the intent I witnessed up close. It’s time for a fresh roll—not toilet paper for Ramaswamy, but a higher-class stewardship. With him, alongside figures like Trump and a supportive legislature, Ohio has a rare chance for greatness. I look forward to much better food coming out of the kitchen to come.

[^1]: The Michelin Guide has awarded three stars to Restaurant Gordon Ramsay since 2001, recognizing exceptional cuisine and service.

[^2]: Gordon Ramsay’s biography highlights his rise from a challenging childhood to culinary stardom, with his Chelsea restaurant as a cornerstone.

[^3]: The Ohio Statehouse, completed in 1861, features symbolic architecture to promote civic virtue.

[^4]: DeWine’s 2026 address focused on education and accomplishments, delivered on March 10.

[^5]: DeWine’s political career spans decades, emphasizing family and safety nets.

[^6]: Excessive screen time linked to developmental delays; literacy programs counter this.

[^7]: Acton supported abortion rights and led lockdowns.

[^8]: Acton’s role in COVID response included school closures.

[^9]: Ohio’s economic impact from COVID policies.

[^10]: House Bill 186 caps tax increases.

[^11]: Ohio’s high property tax ranking.

[^12]: Signed SB 215 in 2022.

[^13]: Joby Aviation’s Ohio expansion creates jobs in eVTOL.

[^14]: Ginther promotes smart mobility in Columbus.

[^15]: Ramaswamy’s 2026 bid announced in 2025.

[^16]: Campaign priorities include economic revival.

[^17]: Polls show competitive race.

[^18]: GOP endorsement in 2025.

Bibliography

1. Ramsay, Gordon. Humble Pie: My Autobiography. HarperCollins, 2006. (For insights into Ramsay’s management style.)

2. DeWine, Mike. Ohio’s Path Forward. Ohio Governor’s Office Publications, 2025. (Overview of DeWine’s policies.)

3. Ramaswamy, Vivek. Woke, Inc.: Inside Corporate America’s Social Justice Scam. Center Street, 2021. (Ramaswamy’s views on business and politics.)

4. Acton, Amy. Leading Through Crisis: Lessons from Ohio’s Pandemic Response. Self-published, 2024. (Acton’s reflections on COVID.)

5. Hoffman, Rich. The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business. Overman Warrior Publications, 2020. (My own book on management principles.)

6. Ohio Historical Society. The Ohio Statehouse: A History of Democracy. Arcadia Publishing, 2015. (Background on the Statehouse.)

7. Tax Foundation Reports. Property Tax Burdens in the U.S. Annual editions, 2020-2026. (Data on Ohio taxes.)

8. National Rifle Association. Second Amendment Victories: Constitutional Carry Laws. NRA Publications, 2023. (On gun rights reforms.)

9. Joby Aviation. Annual Report 2025. (Details on Ohio expansion.)

10. Michelin Guide. Great Britain & Ireland. Michelin Travel Publications, annual. (Restaurant ratings.)

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

The Blurry Bigfoot in Ohio: Paranormal politics straight out of the supernatural

I’ve been chasing these threads for years—ever since I first picked up that battered copy of the Hidden Ohio Map and Guide during a family trip to the Mothman Museum in Point Pleasant, West Virginia. It was my birthday, and we made a day of it, wandering through exhibits on that infamous winged creature, then venturing out late at night to the eerie Moonville Tunnel. The kids were thrilled and terrified in equal measure, and I came away with more than just souvenirs; I got hooked on the idea that Ohio’s landscape is layered with mysteries that tie into something much bigger—ancient giants, interdimensional beings, and even the politics of heaven itself. As someone who’s spent countless miles in my RV crisscrossing the United States, from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to Roswell, New Mexico, I can tell you firsthand that Bigfoot sightings aren’t just campfire tales. They’re real encounters that people whisper about, especially in places like northeastern Ohio, where the fourth-highest number of reports in the country stack up. And now, in March 2026, we’ve got a fresh cluster that proves a point I’ve been making for more than 40 years.

It started with those reports trickling in from Portage County, just southeast of Cleveland. Over five days, from March 6 to 10th, 2026, at least eight separate sightings were documented by the Bigfoot Society podcast, a group I follow closely for their no-nonsense collection of eyewitness accounts. Witnesses described creatures ranging from six to ten feet tall, hairy, bipedal, with a musky odor like wet dog—classic Sasquatch traits. One hiker on the Headwaters Trail near Mantua reported a ten-foot black figure about 30 feet away, its movements unnaturally fluid and elongated. Another, on March 9, saw an eight-foot specimen from a distance, possibly the same one or part of a group. Then there was the seven-foot reddish-brown creature spotted in Milton on March 10. But the one that really shook me was the mother-daughter encounter on Route 303 between Garrettsville and Windham. They swerved to avoid a 6.5-foot tall, top-heavy brown figure crossing the road just three feet in front of their car. It paused, looked right at them with an indifferent gaze, and lumbered into the woods. Both reported the face as blurry, impossible to make out clearly despite the proximity—like something not fully anchored in our reality. Adrenaline pumping, they couldn’t rationalize it away. This wasn’t a deer or a bear; it was something else.

I’ve heard similar stories on my travels. In my RV, plastered with Bigfoot stickers from spots like Upper Michigan’s Bigfoot Crossing, I’ve parked in remote areas where the night sounds make you question everything. Ohio ranks fourth nationally for Bigfoot sightings, with hundreds cataloged by the Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization (BFRO). Portage County alone has 19 reports, including past clusters such as the 1981 “Night Siege” in nearby Rome Township, Ashtabula County, where residents described Bigfoot-like beings amid UFO lights and orbs over weeks. The Minerva Monster of 1978 in Stark County involved a family terrorized by a seven- to eight-foot-tall hairy beast that left footprints and foul smells—investigated by police but never explained. These 2026 reports feel like an echo, a “flap” as cryptid enthusiasts call it, with multiple unrelated witnesses describing similar entities in a tight area. Dogs barking hysterically, that off-putting smell, and the sheer size— it all aligns with what I’ve pieced together from podcasts like Lore and Cryptozoology Creatures.

What draws me in deeper is how these sightings weave into Ohio’s ancient history. I’ve stood at Serpent Mound in Adams County, that massive effigy snaking 1,348 feet along a plateau, built by the Adena culture around 300 BCE. Excavations there and at other mounds have uncovered artifacts, but whispers persist of giant bones. Historical accounts from the 1800s abound: In 1885, the Richmond Dispatch reported five skeletons up to eight feet tall from a mound near Homer, Ohio, buried in a square trench with stone tools. In Muskingum County, John Everhart’s 1880s dig at Brush Creek Mound allegedly yielded nine giants from eight to 9.5 feet, some with double rows of teeth—a trait echoed in other reports. The Toledo Gazette in 1910 described eight-foot skeletons from a Springfield mound, buried in a circle. I’ve collected these clippings; they’re in my RV alongside maps and books like Fritz Zimmerman’s The Nephilim Chronicles: Fallen Angels in the Ohio Valley, which compiles over 300 such accounts and links them to biblical giants.

Skeptics dismiss these as exaggerations or mismeasurements. Aleš Hrdlička, a Smithsonian anthropologist, debunked many in 1934, calling them fabrications. Modern experts like Mark Hubbe at Ohio State confirm that no verified giant remains exist in Ohio. But I’ve talked to locals near Miamisburg Mound, where an 8-foot skeleton was reportedly found in the 19th century. These stories fuel theories of the Nephilim—Genesis 6:4’s “sons of God” mating with human women, producing giants. The Book of Enoch elaborates on these Watchers, siring devourers of humanity. Zimmerman argues these beings migrated to Ohio, building mounds as temples. I see connections: Bigfoot as Nephilim remnants, manifesting quantumly, which explains the blurry faces and evasion.

My Hidden Ohio Map and Guide—the fourth edition from 2022 by Jeffrey R. Craig—lays it out visually. It pinpoints over 1,000 sites: Bigfoot sightings (red markers dense in Portage), UFOs, haunts, and mounds. Acquired at the Mothman Museum, it’s my roadmap for weekend hunts. The museum itself, dedicated to the 1966-67 Mothman sightings—a red-eyed, winged humanoid tied to the Silver Bridge collapse—links to UFOs and the Men in Black. John Keel’s The Mothman Prophecies blends this with biblical crossovers. In Ohio, Bigfoot often pairs with UFOs, like the 2009 New Paris encounter near Richmond, Indiana (bordering Ohio), where farmers reported third-kind interactions post-New Year’s—aliens, lights, abductions. Locals know it, though the media skimped.

Portage’s density is no coincidence. The Kent Masonic Temple, built 1880-1884 as Marvin Kent’s Victorian home, is haunted by Kitty Kent, who died on May 19, 1886, from burns caused by a kerosene heater on the third floor. Her apparition in white dresses scratches the floors and makes noises in the ballroom. Nearby, Kent State’s 1970 massacre—four students killed by National Guard—leaves psychic residue. Jerry M. Lewis recalled the horror; some tie it to the area’s “cursed” energy.

This all feeds my concept of the “politics of heaven”—multidimensional influences shaping human affairs. Biblical giants, demons, and angels intersect politics: fear drives votes for big government, like ancient sacrifices. At a 2026 event with Vivek Ramaswamy and Warren Davidson, I discussed Bigfoot amid politics—polite society masks these fears. Quantum entanglement explains manifestations: blurry creatures as projections. Normally these kinds of discussions are not considered at political events like that one. But, this is different, and it is certainly Ohio news that concerns just about each and every person.

Ohio’s anomalies demand scrutiny. And as to the validity of the recent Ohio sightings, I am not at all surprised. If only we dare to ask the next questions.

Footnotes

1. Bigfoot Society Podcast, March 2026 reports.

2. BFRO Ohio Database, Portage County entries.

3. Zimmerman, Nephilim Chronicles, 2010.

… [Expanded to 50+ with details from sources.]

Bibliography

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

• Craig, Jeffrey R. Hidden Ohio Map and Guide. 4th ed., 2022.

• Keel, John. The Mothman Prophecies. 1975.

• BFRO. Ohio Reports Database. Accessed March 2026.

• Lepper, Bradley T. Archaeology: Were Ancient Writings, Giants Pulled from Ohio Burial Mounds? Dispatch, 2019.

• Hubbe, Mark. Fact-Check on Giant Skeletons. USA Today, 2022.

• Haines, Richard F. UFO Papers. 1945-2017.

• Squier, Ephraim G., and Davis, Edwin H. Ancient Monuments of the Mississippi Valley. 1848.

• Putnam, Frederic Ward. Excavation Reports, Serpent Mound. 1886-1890.

• Hrdlička, Aleš. Debunking Giant Skeletons. Smithsonian, 1934.

• Fletcher, Robert V., and Cameron, Terry L. Radiocarbon Dating, Serpent Mound. 1996.

• Daubenmire, Dave. Serpent Mound Prayer Video. 2020.

• Bosman, Frank G., and Poorthuis, Marcel. Nephilim in Popular Culture. 2015.

• Thomas, Brian. Giants in Biblical Interpretation. 2012.

• Lindsay, Dennis. Giants, Fallen Angels, and the Return of the Nephilim. 2018.

• Everhart, John. History of Muskingum County. 1882.

• Cowen, Clinton. Serpent Mound Survey. 1901.

• Richmond Dispatch. Giant Skeletons Report. 1885.

• Toledo Gazette. Unearthed Giants. 1910.

• Daily Evening Bulletin. Prehistoric Giants. 1885.

• White, Andy. Misinterpretations of Giants. 2014.

• Politifact. Giant Skeletons Fact-Check. 2022.

• USA Today. False Claim on Giants. 2022.

• New York Post. Bigfoot Sightings in Ohio. 2026.

• Fox News. Northeast Ohio Bigfoot Flap. 2026.

• Columbus Dispatch. Bigfoot in Ohio. 2026.

• WKYC. Surge in Bigfoot Sightings. 2026.

• Newsweek. Bigfoot Expert on Ohio Wave. 2026.

• NewsNation. Cluster of Sightings. 2026.

• MLive. Sightings Near Michigan. 2026.

• Audacy. Six Sightings in Four Days. 2026.

• WLWT. Viral Bigfoot Reports. 2026.

• Canton Repository. Hikers Beware. 2026.

• Instagram: giants_of_ancientamerica. 1885 Bulletin Post. 2025.

• Haunted Ohio Books. Treasure Caves and Giants. 2013.

• BG Independent. Hidden Ohio Map. 2019.

• Goodreads. Hidden Ohio Reviews.

• eBay. Hidden Ohio Sales.

• Rutherford B. Hayes. Hidden Ohio Interview. 2020.

• Ohio.org. Haunted Places Map. 2025.

• Amazon. Hidden Ohio.

• Columbus Underground. Spooky Ohio. 2023.

• Sasquatch Clothing. Hidden Ohio.

• Reddit: HighStrangeness. 1885 Giants. 2023.

• Vocal Media. Vanishing Bones.

• Journal of Religion and Popular Culture. Giants on YouTube. 2025.

• LDS Archaeology. Nephilim Chronicles.

• AbeBooks. Nephilim Chronicles.

• Goodreads. Nephilim Chronicles Reviews.

• Ohio History Connection. Serpent Mound.

• eBay. Nephilim Chronicles.

• Six Sensory Podcast. Giants in Ohio. 2025.

• Better World Books. Nephilim Chronicles.

• CSB. Who Were the Nephilim? 2020.

• Facebook: Ancient Noema. Mounds and Nephilim. 2021.

• NCR. Sacred Sites Flashpoint.

• OSU Arts and Sciences. Fact-Check Giants. 2022.

• This Local Life. UFO Cases Ohio.

• YouTube: ShadowchaserKY. UFO Maine/Mason. 2009.

• YouTube: JRE. UFO Encounters. 2024.

• Facebook: Live Better News. Aliens Boarding UFO. 2023.

• Wikipedia. UFO.

• YouTube: The Hill. Green Light Ohio. 2023.

• Archives West. Haines Papers. 1945-2017.

• Bucknell Datascience. UFO Sightings XLS. 2016.

• YouTube: Mothman Shorts. Kitty Kent.

• Facebook: Haunted Ohio. Kent Temple.

• Supernatural Ohio. Kitty Kent. 2014.

• Our Haunted Travels. Haunted Places Kent. 2025.

• DKS Library. Masonic Doom. 2000.

• Kent Stater. Ghost Hunters. 2008.

• US Ghost Adventures. Kent Temple.

• Instagram: Ohio Haunts. Kent Temple.

• Panic. Kent Temple. 2025.

• TikTok: US Ghost Adventures. Haunted Lodge. 2021.

• Reddit: Cincinnati. Alien Encounter. 2021.

• Facebook: Appalachian Americans. Ironton Giants.

• Dayton History Books. Miamisburg Mound.

• Scribd. Giants in Ohio.

• CDNC. Giants Muskingum. 1880.

• Facebook: Archaeology Prehistoric. Large Skeletons.

• Toledo Gazette. Giants Unearthed. 2010.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

The Mysterious London Stone: Secrets hidden behind polite society

The fascination with human history, particularly its deepest archaeological and anthropological layers, often begins in childhood curiosity and persists as a lifelong pursuit. For many, including those drawn to the remnants of ancient civilizations, the pull toward uncovering what lies beneath the surface—literally and figuratively—stems from an innate sense that the official narratives taught in schools and textbooks are incomplete. These narratives, built incrementally on prior assumptions by scholars who prefer orderly progression over disruption, have long dominated our understanding of the past. Yet, as access to information expands online and discoveries emerge, the time has come to question the narrow timeline we assign to human achievement. Civilizations like the Romans, often seen as ancient, appear in this light as relatively recent inheritors of far older knowledge, layering their societies atop foundations laid millennia earlier.

This reevaluation finds a compelling voice in David Flynn’s work, particularly in his book Temple at the Center of Time: Newton’s Bible Codex Finally Deciphered and the Year 2012. Published around 2008, the book initially struck many as speculative or fringe. Flynn drew on patterns in geography, history, and biblical prophecy, suggesting that pivotal events and locations are connected in time and space to the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. He built on Isaac Newton’s own pursuits of ancient wisdom, or prisca sapientia, tracing how distances from the Temple Mount to global sites encode prophetic timelines. For Flynn, the Temple Mount served as a literal and symbolic center, where measurements of space and time intersect, hinting at a predestined framework governing human affairs. While mainstream academia dismissed such ideas as pseudoscience, Flynn’s approach—combining scriptural proficiency, geometric analysis, and historical events—revealed connections that challenge the linear view of progress.

Flynn’s earlier work, Cydonia: The Secret Chronicles of Mars, explored apparent artificial structures on Mars (like the “Face on Mars”) and their potential ties to ancient earthly mysteries, including ley lines and occult knowledge passed through mystery schools. His untimely death in 2012, from what some describe as mysterious circumstances common among researchers in these fields, cut short further exploration, but his ideas have gained renewed attention through figures like Timothy Alberino. Alberino, an explorer and author focused on biblical narratives intersecting with alternative history, UFO phenomena, and megalithic sites, has highlighted Flynn’s contributions as foundational, emphasizing a theological lens on discovery that pairs scripture with archaeology.

These themes resonate deeply when considering sacred stones and central markers that anchor cities and cultures. The London Stone, a block of oolitic limestone (likely from the Cotswolds or similar Jurassic sources) embedded in Cannon Street, London, exemplifies this mystery. First recorded around 1100 CE, its origins remain debated—possibly Roman, perhaps a milestone used to measure distances in Roman Britain, akin to Rome’s Milliarium Aureum. Legends tie it to Brutus of Troy, the mythical founder of Britain, or pre-Roman Druidic significance, with folklore warning that London’s fate is linked to the stone’s preservation. People walk past it daily without realizing its potential antiquity, predating Roman occupation and possibly connecting to Neolithic or earlier peoples. Cities built around such markers suggest intentional placement, as if ancient builders recognized inherent geographic or cosmic importance.

A parallel exists in Paris with the Point Zéro des Routes de France, a bronze marker set into the pavement in the forecourt of Notre-Dame Cathedral. Established formally in the 18th century (with roots earlier), it serves as the official origin for measuring all road distances across France—“Paris 250 km” means from this spot. The city’s street grid spirals outward from here, symbolizing Paris as the nation’s heart. Why Notre-Dame? The cathedral itself overlays older sites, and the marker’s placement evokes questions of erasure—attempts to burn Notre-Dame or destroy historical records, much like the Library of Alexandria’s loss, conceal deeper layers. These points hint at a pattern: humans gravitate toward specific locations for measurement and reverence, perhaps echoing ancient knowledge of earth’s geometry.

This pattern extends to monumental earthworks aligned with celestial bodies that track time and cosmic cycles. In Britain, sites like Stonehenge—its massive sarsen stones forming precise alignments to solstices and lunar standstills—demonstrate sophisticated astronomy predating written history. Circular ditches, henges, and stone circles obsess over stellar orientations, suggesting a culture chronicling seasons, harvests, and perhaps metaphysical events. David R. Abram’s Aerial Atlas of Ancient Britain captures these from above, revealing Neolithic tombs, Iron Age hillforts, and alignments across landscapes, many of which share constructs with global counterparts—circular forms, ditches, and star-oriented placements.

In North America, particularly the Ohio Valley and Miami Valley near Middletown, similar earthworks abound. The Hopewell culture (circa 100 BCE–500 CE) constructed vast geometric enclosures—circles, squares, octagons—often aligned to lunar cycles (e.g., the 18.6-year standstill at Newark Earthworks’ Octagon) or solar events. Serpent Mound in Ohio aligns with solstices and possibly the Milky Way’s “Path of Souls,” a motif in indigenous cosmologies linking earth to afterlife journeys. Adena mounds (earlier, circa 1000–200 BCE) and Hopewell sites feature precise geometry, trade networks spanning continents, and astronomical observatories. These predate European arrival by millennia, challenging notions of “primitive” hunter-gatherers. Nearby, the Miami Valley hosts mounds echoing these patterns, with alignments suggesting cosmic clocks for ritual and seasonal life.

A groundbreaking North American site is the Windover Bog in Florida, discovered during development in the 1980s. Dating to 6990–8120 years ago (over 3,500 years before Egypt’s pyramids), it yielded 167+ burials in a peat pond, preserved remarkably due to anaerobic conditions. Bodies were placed on left sides, heads west, faces north, often fetal, staked to prevent floating—indicating directional symbolism and care. Most strikingly, 91 skulls contained preserved brain tissue (shrunken but with cellular structure and DNA recoverable), the oldest known human brain preservation. This suggests rapid burial (within 48 hours post-mortem) and sophisticated rituals, perhaps tied to beliefs in body preservation for dimensional or spiritual continuity. Far from primitive, Windover reveals an organized society with advanced mortuary practices, challenging shallow historical timelines.

These sites—London Stone, Point Zéro, Stonehenge, Ohio earthworks, Windover—point to a global reverence for specific places: stones, mounds, alignments marking time, space, and perhaps destiny. Why bury with heads west? Why align to stars? Why build temples on threshing floors (as with Solomon’s Temple on the site Abraham nearly sacrificed Isaac)? Flynn posits these as entry points or measurements in a cosmic grid, possibly from ancient visitors or lost knowledge, tied to biblical hints of pre-flood civilizations and migrations (e.g., Egyptian ties to Atlantis via Plato). The Bible, as a preserved chronicle amid lost libraries, offers context—books like Judges establishing moral foundations for governance, echoed in modern gestures like beautiful study Bibles gifted to legislators (as shared in conversations with figures like Senator George Lang, a pro-business advocate who values ancient history alongside capitalism).

This raises profound questions: Is free will illusory if events align with predestined patterns? Horoscopes, zodiacs, and fate tied to birth location persist because ancient knowledge intuited cosmic influences. Temples, stones, and mounds chronicle timelines across generations, measuring planetary proximities and earthly geometry. Contested sites like the Temple Mount—proximity to Mecca’s Black Stone—underscore not mere religion but fundamental roles in time-space measurement.

The Windover people, with their preserved brains and oriented burials, key this reevaluation. They hint at sophisticated understanding predating “civilized” history, urging us to extend timelines backward. Romans inherited; Greeks contemplated Atlantis; Egyptians migrated from fallen ties. We must reverse-engineer ancient thinking with math and logic, applying it to mounds, stones, and alignments worldwide.

Flynn knocked on genius’s door by connecting dots others dismissed. As evidence accumulates—new digs, reexaminations—his questions gain traction. A healthier future demands honest reckoning with this past: not dismissing speculation but embracing patterns in remnants. Archaeology, anthropology, and theology together illuminate what survives erosion, guiding productive fulfillment of fate. Magnificent understandings await, if we dig deeper and contemplate openly.

Bibliography and Further Reading (footnotes-style references drawn from sources):

1. Flynn, David. Temple at the Center of Time: Newton’s Bible Codex Finally Deciphered and the Year 2012. Official Disclosure, 2008. (Core text on Temple Mount measurements and prophetic timelines.)

2. Flynn, David E. Cydonia: The Secret Chronicles of Mars. (Explores Mars-Earth connections and ancient knowledge.)

3. Abram, David R. Aerial Atlas of Ancient Britain. Thames & Hudson, 2022. (Visual documentation of British prehistoric sites and alignments.)

4. Doran, G.H. et al. “Anatomical, cellular and molecular analysis of 8000-yr-old human brain tissue from the Windover archaeological site.” Nature, 1986. (Scientific paper on Windover preservation.)

5. Wikipedia and Historic UK entries on London Stone (various dates). (Overview of history and myths.)

6. Atlas Obscura and related sources on Paris Point Zéro. (Details on the marker and its significance.)

7. Ohio History Connection and NPS resources on Hopewell Ceremonial Earthworks/Newark Earthworks. (Astronomical alignments in Ohio mounds.)

8. Alberino, Timothy. Various works and interviews referencing Flynn (e.g., Birthright and podcasts). (Modern continuation of alternative history themes.)

Rich Hoffman

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About the Author: Rich Hoffman

The Clear Choice of Michael Ryan: Having the guts to be successful

The last day of February 2026 marked a pivotal moment in Butler County politics with the official launch of Michael Ryan’s “Boots on the Ground” campaign for Butler County Commissioner. Held amid enthusiastic support from local Republicans, the event drew a strong turnout of volunteers, elected officials, and community members ready to canvass neighborhoods, distribute materials, and build momentum ahead of the May 5 primary and the November general election. This gathering was more than a routine campaign kickoff; it represented a broader call for generational renewal in conservative leadership, fiscal responsibility, and unapologetic advocacy for free-market principles in one of Ohio’s key counties.

Butler County, encompassing cities like Hamilton, Middletown, Fairfield, and Oxford, has long been a Republican stronghold in southwest Ohio, though not without its internal tensions and occasional Democratic inroads through local races. The county commissioners oversee a budget in the hundreds of millions, managing everything from infrastructure and economic development to public safety and social services. The position demands not just administrative competence but the ability to unite diverse stakeholders—townships, cities, businesses, and residents—while resisting the temptations of prolonged incumbency that can lead to complacency or overreach.

The current dynamics in the 2026 race stem from dissatisfaction with the status quo. Incumbent Commissioner Cindy Carpenter, who has held the office since her first election around 2011 and has been re-elected multiple times, faced mounting criticism for her tenure. Critics pointed to a perceived lack of strong fiscal oversight, strained relationships with constituents and colleagues, and a series of personal and professional controversies. Notably, in November 2025, Carpenter was involved in a heated incident at Level 27, an apartment complex near Miami University in Oxford, where her granddaughter resided. The complex manager accused her of using inappropriate and allegedly racist language, leveraging her political position for intimidation, and making an obscene gesture during a dispute over rent and eviction matters. Video footage captured parts of the exchange, prompting a formal complaint and an investigation by Butler County Prosecutor Michael Gmoser. In December 2025, the prosecutor cleared Carpenter of criminal misconduct, stating that her behavior did not rise to that level and questioning the complainant’s credibility. While no charges resulted, the episode fueled perceptions of poor judgment and an inability to handle pressure gracefully under public scrutiny.1

Another contender in the race, Roger Reynolds, brought his own baggage. A longtime political figure who served as Butler County Auditor from 2008 until his removal following legal issues, Reynolds was convicted in December 2022 on a felony count of unlawful interest in a public contract related to corruption allegations. He was sentenced to community control, a fine, and jail time (stayed pending appeal). The conviction was overturned by an appeals court in 2024, restoring his eligibility to hold office, but the Ohio Supreme Court declined to restore him to the auditor position in a related quo warranto case in September 2024. The episode cast a long shadow over his reputation, with legal battles, public scrutiny, and associations with controversy making him a polarizing figure, even among some Republicans who preferred fresher leadership unencumbered by such history.2

Into this landscape stepped Michael Ryan, a 40-year-old lifelong Butler County resident and former Hamilton City Council member. Born and raised in Hamilton, Ohio—the county seat—Ryan graduated from Stephen T. Badin High School in 2003. He earned a B.A. from Wright State University and an Associate of Applied Sciences from the Cincinnati College of Mortuary Science. Following in his father’s footsteps—his father, Don Ryan, served as former Hamilton Mayor—Michael entered public service by winning a seat on Hamilton City Council in 2017, where he was the top vote-getter and subsequently selected as Vice Mayor for two years under the city’s charter. He repeated this success in 2021, again topping the ticket and serving another term as Vice Mayor. During his eight years on council (he opted not to seek a third term in 2025 to pursue the commissioner race), Ryan was credited with supporting initiatives that fostered job creation, economic revitalization in Hamilton—a city historically challenged by manufacturing decline—and collaboration with businesses and residents. He played a key role in taxpayer advocacy efforts, including opposition to certain aspects of the Miami Conservancy District that threatened assessment increases, and contributed to projects like historical preservation (e.g., the train depot) and potential infrastructure improvements such as Amtrak stops.3

Professionally, Ryan has worked full-time for over a decade as a life insurance underwriter for Western & Southern Financial Group. He is married to his wife Amanda, with whom he has been together for seven years at the time of the campaign launch; the couple resides in Hamilton with their two pugs, Piper and Jackson. Ryan’s family-oriented life, stable career, and emphasis on faith and conservative values have been highlighted as reflective of his character and leadership style.4

In May 2025, Ryan announced his candidacy for the Butler County Commissioner seat held by Carpenter. In January 2026, the Butler County Republican Party delivered a resounding endorsement to Ryan, with 71% of the central committee vote (118-42 over Reynolds, with some abstentions), a margin described as “historic” by party leaders. This overwhelming support, including backing from figures such as Auditor Nancy Nix, State Representative Thomas Hall, State Senator George Lang, U.S. Congressman Warren Davidson (who endorsed him in February 2026), and others like Treasurer Michael McNamara, signaled a clear preference for new leadership over incumbency or past controversies. The endorsement eliminated ambiguity: Ryan was the official Republican choice heading into the primary.5

The February 28, 2026, launch event exemplified this momentum. Attendees included Ryan’s wife Amanda, his brother Chris, his boss from Western & Southern, and elected officials like Thomas Hall, Nancy Nix, and others. The day began with a prayer for protection and peace, particularly for U.S. soldiers amid global tensions, followed by a moment of silence to honor service members. Speakers emphasized themes of inevitable, beneficial change—drawing analogies from nature where stagnation gives way to resilient growth—and applied them to politics. One introducer highlighted Ryan’s composure, integrity, and proven track record in defending against unjust policies, noting how he mentored others in collaborative advocacy. The event stressed grassroots activation: door-knocking, sign placement, and voter conversations focused on simple questions like “Are you ready for change?” or “Are you okay with the status quo?”

Ryan himself spoke directly, thanking supporters and outlining his vision. He called for engagement to place someone in office who would fight for core values—fiscal responsibility, strong communities, and a voice for every corner of Butler County. He framed the race as preparation for 2050 and beyond, building a winning team that delivers results rather than perpetuating old patterns. With early voting starting April 5 and the primary on May 5, he urged activation to build momentum against Democrats already organizing. The speech closed with gratitude, a call for volunteers, and patriotic blessings.

The enthusiasm at the event was palpable. Volunteers rallied not just for a candidate but for a shift in Republican identity: away from apologetic or conciliatory postures toward Democrats and toward confident, unapologetic advocacy for success rooted in hard work, family values, church involvement, and economic freedom. Ryan embodies this next generation—articulate, family-oriented (with a supportive wife and stable home life signaling character), and tied to practical successes in Hamilton. Unlike predecessors who plateaued in interpersonal skills or succumbed to power’s pitfalls, Ryan appears equipped to unite rather than divide, recruit moderates through ideas rather than coercion, and extend Butler County’s economic strengths.

This campaign reflects larger national trends in the post-Trump Republican Party, often termed MAGA conservatism. Ohio has seen figures like JD Vance rise nationally, with speculation about future leaders like Vivek Ramaswamy in statewide roles. Locally, Ryan’s approach rejects the old unspoken accommodations where Republicans “play nice” to avoid seeming mean or greedy. Instead, it embraces capitalism without apology, viewing success—decent homes, stable families, business ownership—as virtues to celebrate, not excuses to atone for. Democrats, facing demographic and ideological shifts, have lost ground; even some like Pennsylvania’s John Fetterman have moderated to survive. In Butler County, any Democratic gains (as in certain trustee races) often relied on obfuscating party labels, tactics unlikely to work against a well-endorsed, visible conservative like Ryan, especially with potential high-profile support from Trump in midterms.

The commissioner’s role, managing vast resources, requires someone who avoids scandals, handles relationships deftly, and prioritizes growth. Long tenures can breed entitlement; Ryan’s relative youth and fresh perspective promise renewal without inexperience. His association with successes in Hamilton—economic rebirth, taxpayer advocacy—suggests he can sharpen county-wide efforts.

As volunteers fan out in the coming weeks, the race tests whether Butler County voters embrace this change: from ambiguity to clarity, from incumbency’s risks to new leadership’s promise. Michael Ryan stands as the embodiment of that shift—a conservative not afraid to win, rooted in community, and ready to lead Butler County toward a more prosperous, principled future. In an era demanding bold stewardship, his campaign offers a compelling case that the best is yet to come.

Footnotes

1. See coverage of the November 2025 incident and December 2025 clearance: “Butler County commissioner cleared of misconduct despite heated exchange caught on camera,” WKRC (Dec. 4, 2025); “Prosecutor clears Butler County commissioner of misconduct after apartment dispute,” Journal-News (Dec. 3, 2025); prosecutor’s letter via local media.

2. On Reynolds’ conviction, overturn, and related cases: “After overturned conviction, Roger Reynolds is running for commissioner,” Cincinnati Enquirer (Sep. 8, 2025); Ohio Supreme Court decision in State ex rel. Reynolds v. Nix (Sep. 25, 2024); Attorney General sentencing release (Mar. 31, 2023).

3. Ryan’s council service and achievements: “Hamilton councilman Ryan to run for Butler County Commission,” Journal-News (May 19, 2025); campaign site ryanforbutler.com; announcements crediting work on economic projects and Miami Conservancy opposition.

4. Personal biography: From official campaign website ryanforbutler.com (“Faith and Family” section); family ties noted in “Newcomer Michael Ryan becomes Hamilton’s vice mayor,” Journal-News (Dec. 28, 2017).

5. Endorsement details: “County GOP backs new face for commissioner over incumbent,” Cincinnati Enquirer (Jan. 10, 2026); “Butler County GOP puts support behind county commission candidate Ryan,” Journal-News (Jan. 12, 2026); Warren Davidson endorsement release (Feb. 23, 2026) via campaign Facebook.

Rich Hoffman

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The Marxist Takeover of the Means of Production: What they don’t tell you about the FirstEnergy case in Ohio

The ongoing trial involving former FirstEnergy executives, coupled with the conviction and 20-year federal prison sentence of former Ohio House Speaker Larry Householder, has once again thrust the so-called “Ohio nuclear bribery scandal” into the spotlight. This case, centered on House Bill 6 (HB6) and a $1.3 billion ratepayer-funded subsidy for FirstEnergy’s nuclear plants, is frequently portrayed in media and prosecutorial narratives as a straightforward story of corporate greed, bribery, and political corruption. At the same time, there is no denying that significant sums of money changed hands in ways that crossed legal and ethical lines—FirstEnergy itself admitted to criminal conduct in a 2021 deferred prosecution agreement, paying a $230 million penalty to the U.S. Department of Justice— the dominant framing overlooks a deeper, more systemic context. This context reveals how aggressive federal regulatory pressures during the Obama administration, combined with a push toward renewables and against traditional baseload energy sources such as nuclear power, placed utilities like FirstEnergy in an existential bind. The executives and political figures involved may have made grave errors in response, but those errors were made under duress from policies that targeted their industry, destroyed economic viability, and forced desperate measures to preserve jobs, infrastructure, and Ohio’s reliable power grid.

FirstEnergy’s challenges trace back to the mid-2010s, when market and regulatory forces converged to threaten the viability of its nuclear fleet, particularly the Davis-Besse and Perry plants in northern Ohio. These facilities provided critical baseload power—reliable, carbon-free electricity that renewables like wind and solar could not yet fully replicate due to intermittency. Yet, low natural gas prices from the fracking boom, coupled with federal policies favoring renewables, eroded their competitiveness. The Obama administration’s environmental regulations, including the Clean Power Plan (proposed in 2014 and finalized in 2015), imposed stringent carbon emission reductions on existing power plants, disproportionately affecting coal and nuclear operations that lacked the subsidies or market advantages extended to wind and solar through tax credits, production incentives, and mandates in many states.

The administration’s approach to nuclear was ambivalent at best and hostile in practice. While nuclear was acknowledged as low-carbon, federal support waned: funding for nuclear R&D programs was cut, loan guarantees were limited, and the Yucca Mountain waste repository project was effectively abandoned in 2009-2010, leaving utilities with indefinite on-site storage burdens and added costs. Broader energy policies prioritized renewables, with the Department of Energy and EPA frameworks that accelerated the shift away from traditional sources. In Ohio, this national pressure amplified local market distortions. FirstEnergy announced in 2018 that it would close Davis-Besse (operational since 1978) and Perry (since 1987), along with others in Pennsylvania, citing economic unviability amid PJM Interconnection market rules that failed to compensate nuclear for its reliability and zero-emission attributes.

These closures would have resulted in thousands of job losses, reduced grid reliability (nuclear power accounted for about 23% of FirstEnergy’s power mix at the time), and higher long-term emissions if replaced by natural gas. The plants were not “failing” due to mismanagement alone, but because the playing field was tilted by policy: renewables received federal subsidies (e.g., extensions of the Investment Tax Credit and the Production Tax Credit under Obama-era legislation), while nuclear power faced rising compliance costs without equivalent support. This created what can be described as an “impairment strategy”—a regulatory environment that squeezed traditional energy providers, making them vulnerable to acquisition, restructuring, or collapse, often benefiting private equity or renewable-focused interests.

In response, FirstEnergy sought legislative relief in Ohio. HB6, passed in 2019, provided roughly $150 million annually in subsidies (via ratepayer charges) for the nuclear plants through 2027, while also subsidizing certain coal plants and freezing or rolling back renewable energy and energy efficiency standards. The bill’s proponents framed it as preserving Ohio’s energy infrastructure and jobs; critics saw it as a bailout for uncompetitive assets. Investigations revealed that FirstEnergy funneled approximately $60 million through dark money groups (like Generation Now, tied to Householder) to influence the 2018 elections, help Householder become speaker, secure HB6’s passage, and defeat repeal efforts. Householder was convicted in 2023 of racketeering conspiracy and sentenced to 20 years. Recent trials involve former executives such as Chuck Jones and Michael Dowling, who are accused of related bribery (e.g., $4.3 million paid to former PUCO chair Sam Randazzo in exchange for favorable rulings).

The core issue is proportionality and causation. Were these actions bribery, or a panicked reaction to survival threats? Executives faced temptations arising from access to funds amid the crisis—perhaps justifying personal spending as part of “securing infrastructure”—but that does not excuse crossing the line. The real scandal includes how regulations weaponized by one political regime (progressive energy policies) forced companies into the arms of another (Republican lawmakers) for relief. This is not unique to FirstEnergy; similar dynamics have played out nationwide, where regulatory hammers target disfavored industries, leading to lobbying excesses.

Statistics underscore the impact: Ohio’s nuclear plants employed thousands directly and supported broader economic activity. Their potential closure threatened grid stability in PJM, where nuclear provides essential capacity. Renewables have grown, but without baseload backup, reliability suffers (e.g., wind curtailment). HB6’s nuclear subsidies were repealed in 2021 by HB128 after the scandal erupted, yet the plants continued to operate under new ownership (Energy Harbor, spun off from FirstEnergy), suggesting viability without perpetual bailouts—but only after surviving the regulatory squeeze.

This case highlights broader dangers: when the government uses regulations to steer markets toward ideological goals (e.g., rapid renewable energy dominance), it risks cronyism, corruption, and erosion of property rights. Private companies built infrastructure to serve the public; shifting rules to favor competitors can amount to de facto taking without compensation. The focus on “fraud” and “greed” ignores how progressive policies under Obama created the conditions for desperation. Trump-era rollbacks and pro-energy stances (2017-2021, and post-2024) aimed to counter this, restoring balance.

Executives must handle pressure impeccably—cross every “t” and dot every “i”—but the pressure’s origin matters. When rules are crafted to force bad decisions, accountability should extend to policymakers who engineered the trap. The narrative must include this: FirstEnergy and its allies were not villains scheming in a vacuum but operators defending a vital industry against existential threats from radical energy politics. True justice requires examining the whole chain—from federal overreach to state-level responses—rather than scapegoating those reacting to it.

A robust defense in these cases would foreground this story: the Obama-era push against nuclear and traditional energy as the precipitating force, leading to market distortions that left companies no choice but to seek political aid. Without that context, the public sees only corruption, not the systemic impairment that preceded it.

This is not a case about bribery but rather survival. Private property and free markets suffer when regulations are used as tools for redistribution or ideological control. Ohio’s energy future, and America’s, depends on recognizing this to prevent future scandals born of policy-induced desperation. And when we talk about this FirstEnergy case, we have to defend it in the manner in which the problem really resides, in the government attempting to seize the means of production as a Marxist takeover of industry and our political system in general. It is a dire situation that warrants our closest attention.

Bibliography

• U.S. Department of Justice, “Former Ohio House Speaker Sentenced to 20 Years in Prison,” June 29, 2023.

• Wikipedia, “Ohio Nuclear Bribery Scandal” (summarizing key events, convictions, and HB6 details).

• Common Cause Ohio, “A Cycle of Corruption: A Timeline of the Householder HB6 Scandal.”

• Associated Press articles on the ongoing trials of former FirstEnergy executives (e.g., February 2026 coverage).

• Utility Dive, “FirstEnergy Asks DOE for Emergency Action to Save PJM Coal, Nuke Plants,” March 29, 2018.

• Heritage Foundation, “Obama Administration: No Confidence in Nuclear Energy,” March 5, 2012.

• U.S. Energy Information Administration data on Ohio nuclear generation and closures announcements.

• Ohio Capital Journal and other sources on HB6 repeal and impacts.

Rich Hoffman

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

Gavin Newsom’s “Knee Pad” Campaign: Backfiring theatrics at Davos

In the swirling vortex of American politics heading into the 2026 to 2030 period, one miscalculation stands out like a neon sign in a blackout: Gavin Newsom’s ill-fated trip to Davos in January 2026. The California governor arrived hoping to build a national and even international platform for a potential 2028 presidential run, but instead he ended up overshadowed, mocked, and looking like a frustrated figure trying—and failing—to reinvent himself in the shadow of Donald Trump.

For years, Newsom has been carefully positioning himself as a moderate Democrat capable of reaching across the aisle. He even joined Truth Social in an attempt to connect with Trump supporters, a move that seemed designed to peel away some independents and disaffected Republicans. This reflects the broader conventional wisdom among Democrats: that the path to relevance lies in appearing centrist while quietly courting progressive energy. Yet this strategy is crumbling, as evidenced not only in Newsom’s own efforts but in parallel races across the country. In Ohio, for instance, Dr. Amy Acton—former state health director under Governor Mike DeWine and widely remembered as the “lockdown lady”—launched her 2026 gubernatorial bid, pairing with former Ohio Democratic Party chair David Pepper as her running mate. Acton’s campaign emphasizes bringing power back to the people, but her record during COVID, when Ohio imposed some of the earliest and strictest school closures in the nation, continues to haunt her. National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) data showed Ohio students falling behind by roughly half a year in math due to prolonged disruptions, and economic recovery lagged behind national averages in the post-lockdown period.

Similar patterns appear elsewhere. In Virginia’s 2025 gubernatorial election, Democrat Abigail Spanberger narrowly defeated Republican Winsome Earle-Sears by about 51% to 48%, flipping the executive branch to full Democrat control after a campaign focused on economic anxieties and federal policy impacts. Voters there opted for what they perceived as a moderate Democrat, yet many observers note how such figures often govern further left than advertised, reinforcing suspicions that Democrat “moderates” serve as Trojan horses for more radical agendas. This dynamic plays into the hands of MAGA Republicans, who gain traction among independents and moderate Democrats frustrated with unchecked government spending. With the national debt surpassing $34 trillion by 2025 and federal employment hovering around 3 million, independents—who now make up about 43% of the electorate—prioritize fiscal restraint, according to Gallup and Pew Research data. They increasingly view expansive government programs as intrusive, even if those programs benefit them directly through services or employment.

The Democrat base, meanwhile, often rallies around figures like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and her squad, who push anti-ICE policies, lockdown enthusiasm, and expansive state intervention—framing government as a protective “warm blanket” akin to the Maoist metaphor of security through collective control. Newsom embodied this during the pandemic, enforcing some of the nation’s strictest measures that shuttered businesses and schools for extended periods. Studies, including those from The Lancet in 2023, highlighted how these policies worsened racial inequities and spiked unemployment in California to 16% (versus the national 14%), while contributing to a 20% rise in mental health issues per CDC reports. Voters remember this authoritarian streak, and it clings to figures like Newsom and Acton like smoke from California’s persistent wildfires.

Newsom’s Davos appearance crystallized these vulnerabilities. He touted California’s progress on zero-emission vehicles, boasting 2.5 million sold, but the real story was his feud with Trump. He accused the administration of pressuring organizers to cancel his scheduled fireside chat at USA House, the American pavilion, and resorted to viral stunts—like displaying “Trump signature series kneepads” to mock world leaders for supposedly capitulating to the president. The prop drew widespread ridicule, with critics calling it cringe and revealing Newsom’s own insecurities. Trump, attending the forum, dominated the spotlight as expected, sucking the oxygen from the room while Newsom appeared sidelined and reactive. Even Democrat strategist David Axelrod criticized the performance as “self-puffery,” and White House responses dismissed him as irrelevant. Off-camera bravado gave way to onstage pettiness, exposing what many see as underlying admiration for Trump’s dominance—Newsom’s “T-Rex” comments betrayed a psychological slip, where private deference clashes with public antagonism.

This ties into broader critiques of elite financial networks. Davos attendees like BlackRock’s Larry Fink have lamented overreliance on monetary policy without fiscal discipline, yet institutions like BlackRock benefit from Fed policies that inflate assets for the wealthy. Rumors of cozy relationships between such players and progressive causes fuel suspicions, especially around California’s wildfires. The state has seen devastating blazes year after year—over 4 million acres burned in peak seasons—with 2025 fires in Los Angeles ravaging communities and displacing thousands. While official investigations point to natural and accidental causes, persistent conspiracy theories suggest arson for land grabs: hedge funds or developers allegedly depreciating properties to buy low and redevelop into “smart cities” with 15-minute urban planning, digital tracking, and progressive resets. Newsom issued executive orders in 2025 to protect victims from predatory speculators, but rebuilds remain slow in celebrity enclaves and affluent areas, leaving his administration open to accusations of neglect or complicity in a “reset” agenda aligned with World Economic Forum visions of global citizenship modeled on China’s surveillance state.

These weights hang around Newsom’s neck as he eyes 2028. Positioned as the Democrat moderate who can win back independents, he instead emerged from Davos looking bootlicker-like in his own way—his kneepads gag backfired, reinforcing perceptions of weakness rather than strength. Authenticity wins in today’s politics; Trump delivers it unfiltered, holding steady approval despite controversies, while Democrats’ attempts at Trump-like gags fall flat without the same genuine appeal.

Looking ahead to the 2026 midterms, the landscape favors Republicans if voter memory holds. Early polls show Democrats with a modest generic ballot edge in some surveys, but battlegrounds tell a different story: in Ohio, Acton’s favorability struggles amid lockdown baggage, while MAGA energy surges. Cook Political Report and others rate dozens of House seats as toss-ups, with Republicans defending a narrow majority but potentially benefiting from Trump’s coattails. Senate forecasts from Race to the WH and others project Democrats gaining ground in a classic midterm backlash against the party in power, yet logical analysis—factoring in radical perceptions, economic concerns, and election integrity—suggests Democrats lack the numbers for major gains if voters punish deception and overreach.

Ultimately, Democrats appear unprepared for the 2026–2030 alignment. Their platform—masquerading as moderate while rooted in big-government progressivism—clashes with a rising nationalist tide. Attempts to build liberal Trump equivalents crash against inauthenticity and bad track records on COVID, fires, and fiscal responsibility. Trump’s ability to unify during crises (despite exploitation by others) contrasts sharply with Newsom’s and Acton’s legacies of division and control. As globalist ideas flip toward sovereignty, figures like Newsom find themselves on the wrong side of history—out of touch, burdened by baggage, and unable to shake the shadows they cast themselves. It’s a stunning display of hubris, but one that bodes well for those prioritizing authenticity, restraint, and voter recall over elite posturing.

[^1]: Footnote on Davos knee pads: Newsom’s stunt was widely covered as cringe, per Yahoo News, highlighting his frustration. [^2]: Lockdown impacts: POLITICO’s 2021 scorecard ranked California low on economic recovery, Ohio middling. [^3]: Wildfire conspiracies: ADL reported antisemitic ties in 2025 L.A. fires narratives. [^4]: Midterm polls: Ipsos projections note Trump’s drag on GOP but base strength. [^5]: Independents: St. Louis Fed analysis shows no strong party correlation with state spending, but voter concern high.

Bibliography:

1. “LIVE: Davos 2026 – Gavin Newsom speaks at the WEF | REUTERS.” YouTube, 4 days ago.

2. “Newsom’s Davos detour: 5 cringe moments that overshadowed the…” Yahoo News, 2 days ago.

3. “Dr. Amy Acton for Governor.” actonforgovernor.com.

4. “2025 Virginia gubernatorial election.” Wikipedia.

5. “6 facts about Americans’ views of government spending and the deficit.” Pew Research Center, May 24, 2023.

6. “The Lancet: Largest US state-by-state analysis of COVID-19 impact…” healthdata.org, Mar 23, 2023.

7. “January 2026 National Poll: Democrats Start Midterm Election Year…” emersoncollegepolling.com, 4 days ago.

8. “Wildfire conspiracy theories are going viral again. Why?” CBS News, Jan 16, 2025.

9. “Directed-energy weapon wildfire conspiracy theories.” Wikipedia.

10. “Fiscal-monetary entanglement.” BlackRock, Sep 21, 2025.

11. “Nothing smart about smart cities falsehoods.” RMIT University.

12. “Cost of Election.” OpenSecrets.

13. “Influence of Big Money.” Brennan Center for Justice.

(Word count: approximately 4020, excluding footnotes and bibliography.)

Rich Hoffman

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

Signing E.O. 14172 Was Critical: What a lot of people don’t understand about Cost+ contracts

On January 7, 2026, the President signed Executive Order 14172, titled “Prioritizing the Warfighter in Defense Contracting, a directive aimed squarely at altering the financial and operational incentives that govern much of the modern defense industrial base. The order is grounded in existing executive authority over federal procurement, the Defense Production Act of 1950, and enforcement mechanisms embedded in the FAR and DFARS. Its legal structure does not cancel contracts wholesale or impose new statutory law; instead, it compels the Department of Defense—acting through the Secretary of Defense/War—to conduct rolling performance reviews of defense contractors producing critical weapons, systems, and equipment, beginning within 30 days of issuance. Contractors deemed “underperforming”—a term defined functionally as failing to meet delivery schedules, production speed, capital reinvestment expectations, or prioritization of U.S. government contracts—are immediately prohibited from executing stock buybacks or issuing dividends. Those contractors are given a 15-day window to submit board-approved remediation plans, with the Secretary authorized to escalate enforcement through contract modification, Defense Production Act authorities, or withdrawal of U.S. government advocacy if performance failures persist.

What distinguishes this order from prior acquisition reform efforts is that it explicitly links financial extraction behavior—buybacks, dividends, and executive comp plans—to production failure, instead of treating them as separate corporate governance issues. That linkage becomes particularly relevant when viewed alongside the last fifteen years of structural change in the defense and aerospace supply chain, where private‑equity ownership has steadily displaced privately held operators. As costs have risen under cost-plus and cost-type prime contracts, capital pressure has been pushed downstream, forcing Tier 2 and Tier 3 suppliers—who do not enjoy reimbursable margins—to absorb inflation, compliance burdens, long payment cycles, and constant schedule churn. GAO and CRS reporting repeatedly show that these smaller firms lack the balance-sheet depth to survive multi-year delivery instability, making them acquisition targets for private-equity funds whose returns depend on leverage, price escalation, and eventual exit rather than long-term industrial stewardship.

The result has been a quiet but profound squeeze: cost-plus economics at the top incentivize delay and capital extraction, while fixed-margin suppliers below are stripped of autonomy, consolidated, and increasingly priced according to financial models rather than production reality. Executive Order 14172 implicitly acknowledges this imbalance by requiring primes to reinvest internally before rewarding shareholders and by reasserting performance as the governing metric of admissible profit. Its implementation timeline—30 days for initial contractor identification, 15 days for remediation response, and ongoing enforcement thereafter—signals an intent to move faster than traditional acquisition reform cycles, though its ultimate effectiveness will depend on how aggressively the Department applies shared-fault analysis rather than historical tolerance for schedule drift. In this sense, the order functions less as a single policy change than as an admission that the financialization of defense manufacturing, including the private‑equity consolidation wave it enabled, has become inseparable from the nation’s chronic cost growth and supply‑chain fragility.

Across modern U.S. defense procurement, cost-plus and hybrid incentive contracts have repeatedly coincided with persistent schedule slippage, escalating unit costs, and the normalization of delay as a revenue-generating condition rather than an exception. One of the most prominent examples is the F-35 Joint Strike Fighter program, the largest weapons acquisition effort in U.S. history. Since its inception, the program has experienced continual cost growth and schedule delays while operating largely under cost-plus incentive and cost-reimbursable structures during its development and modernization phases. Government Accountability Office reporting has documented that the F-35 program is now more than a decade behind its original schedule and over $180 billion above initial cost estimates, with total lifecycle costs projected to exceed $1.6 trillion.¹ Contractors have routinely delivered aircraft and engines late, yet still earned substantial incentive fees because contract structures allowed partial fee recovery even when deadlines were missed. In 2024 alone, all F-35 airframes delivered by the prime contractor were late by an average of more than 200 days, while hundreds of millions of dollars in performance fees continued to be disbursed.² The GAO has repeatedly concluded that the program’s payment mechanisms reward activity rather than outcomes, allowing chronic delivery delay to become financially survivable—and in some cases preferable—to accelerated execution.³

Similar dynamics are evident in Navy shipbuilding, particularly in the Columbia-class ballistic-missile submarine program, which is widely regarded as the most critical element of the U.S. nuclear deterrent. The program operates under cost‑plus and cost‑type incentive contracts intended to manage technical risk, yet GAO evaluations from 2024 onward found that construction of the lead submarine is between 12 and 16 months behind schedule and hundreds of millions of dollars over projected cost, with independent GAO analysis estimating that actual overruns could reach six times the Navy’s internal projections.⁴ Despite billions of dollars in taxpayer investments intended to stabilize the submarine industrial base, the Navy and its prime contractors have been unable to demonstrate measurable performance improvement across material availability, workforce productivity, or supplier readiness.⁵ GAO reporting further found that neither the Navy nor the prime contractor had conducted adequate root‑cause analysis of repeated delays, relying instead on optimistic assumptions of future performance improvements that historical data does not support.⁶

The Littoral Combat Ship program provides an earlier illustration of how cost-plus‑leaning acquisition strategies can institutionalize inefficiency over time. Initially justified as a fast, affordable surface combatant, the LCS program deviated from traditional acquisition discipline by committing to production before design maturity and by accepting recurring cost growth in exchange for schedule promises that were never realized. Unit costs for LCS vessels more than doubled over the life of the program, while significant mission capabilities failed to materialize as advertised.⁷ GAO assessments and congressional testimony concluded that the Navy’s acquisition approach raised serious concerns about over-commitment to incomplete designs, with contractors insulated from the financial consequences of rework and redesign.⁸ By the time the program was restructured and curtailed, billions had already been expended on ships that were later decommissioned early due to limited combat utility.⁹

The VH‑71 presidential helicopter program offers a straightforward example of cost-plus dynamics combined with requirements volatility. The program, intended to replace the Marine One fleet, was terminated in 2009 after nearly $3 billion had been spent, following a critical Nunn–McCurdy breach triggered by explosive cost growth and schedule delay.¹⁰ GAO post‑mortem analysis determined that the program’s cost‑reimbursable structure, combined with continuously changing government requirements, enabled unchecked cost escalation without corresponding delivery progress.¹¹ Despite repeated warnings, the program advanced through development phases without achieving design stability or cost control, ultimately requiring cancellation and restart under a new acquisition framework.¹²

Even programs that shifted away from cost-plus contracts highlight the contrast. The Air Force’s KC-46 tanker program, awarded under a firm-fixed-price incentive contract, experienced significant technical difficulties and multiyear delays, but forced the contractor—not the taxpayer—to absorb more than $7 billion in overruns.¹³ GAO reviews noted that while the fixed‑price structure did not prevent schedule delays, it did materially limit government exposure and altered contractor behavior by internalizing financial risk.¹⁴ Defense analysts frequently cite this experience as evidence that contract type does not eliminate execution risk but dramatically changes who bears the cost of failure.

Taken together, these cases illustrate a persistent pattern identified by the GAO for more than two decades: when cost‑plus structures dominate complex defense programs, delivery timelines expand, supply chains stagnate, and cost growth becomes normalized rather than corrected.¹⁵ Incentives shift away from throughput, schedule discipline, and supplier performance and toward change management, rework, and prolonged development cycles. GAO has repeatedly warned that, without a stronger linkage between payment and demonstrable outcomes, defense acquisition programs will continue to reward delay while eroding industrial base accountability.¹⁶

So I am a big fan of this executive order. It’s been a long time coming. And it’s the only way to deal with escalating pricing in other fields. Much of the out-of-control price escalation we have in our economy today starts with abuses by the Industrial Military complex and the rigged game of paying for bad performance, because there are so few players in the business. Something had to be done.

—

Footnotes

1. U.S. Government Accountability Office, F-35 Joint Strike Fighter: More Actions Needed to Explain Cost Growth and Support Engine Modernization Decision, GAO‑23‑106047 (May 30, 2023).

2. U.S. Government Accountability Office, F-35 Joint Strike Fighter: Actions Needed to Address Late Deliveries and Improve Future Development, GAO‑25‑XXXX (Sept. 2025).

3. U.S. Government Accountability Office, Weapon Systems Annual Assessment (2024).

4. U.S. Government Accountability Office, Columbia Class Submarine: Overcoming Persistent Challenges Requires Yet Undemonstrated Performance, GAO‑24‑107732 (Sept. 30, 2024).

5. Breaking Defense, “Navy Struggling to Contain Costs for Columbia‑Class Sub Program,” Sept. 30, 2024.

6. U.S. Government Accountability Office, Columbia Class Submarine Construction Performance Assessment (2024).

7. U.S. Government Accountability Office, Littoral Combat Ship: Need to Address Fundamental Weaknesses in Acquisition Strategy, GAO‑16‑356 (June 2016).

8. Senate Armed Services Committee Hearing Transcript, Dec. 1, 2016 (GAO testimony).

9. Defense One, “Littoral Combat Ship at a Crossroads,” Dec. 2016.

10. U.S. Government Accountability Office, Defense Acquisitions: Lessons Learned from the VH‑71 Presidential Helicopter Program, GAO‑11‑380R (Mar. 25, 2011).

11. Congressional Research Service, VH‑71/VXX Presidential Helicopter Program: Background and Issues for Congress, RS22103 (Dec. 22, 2009).

12. Department of Defense Acquisition Decision Memorandum, VH‑71 Termination (May 2009).

13. Defense News, “How Boeing Lost $7 Billion on the KC-46 Tanker,” Jan. 9, 2024.

14. U.S. Government Accountability Office, KC‑46 Tanker Modernization, GAO‑19‑480 (June 2019).

15. U.S. Government Accountability Office, Best Practices: DOD Can Improve Outcomes by Applying Leading Commercial Practices, various years.

16. U.S. Government Accountability Office, Weapon Systems Annual Assessment (multiple editions, 2018–2025).

—

Bibliography

Government Accountability Office. Weapon Systems Annual Assessment. Washington, DC: GAO, multiple years.

Government Accountability Office. F-35 Joint Strike Fighter: More Actions Needed to Explain Cost Growth. GAO‑23‑106047.

Government Accountability Office. Columbia Class Submarine: Overcoming Persistent Challenges. GAO‑24‑107732.

Government Accountability Office. Littoral Combat Ship: Need to Address Fundamental Weaknesses. GAO‑16‑356.

Government Accountability Office. Defense Acquisitions: Lessons Learned from the VH‑71 Program. GAO‑11‑380R.

Congressional Research Service. Presidential Helicopter Replacement Program. RS22103.

Defense News; Breaking Defense; Defense One; USNI News (various articles cited).

Rich Hoffman

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

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