Category: Feminisim

NAGPRA: Worse than book burning–the Time Team shows how to do it right

As I reflect on this continuation of my birthday gift to myself—the deep dive into the Windover Archaeological Site and everything it represents—I can’t help but feel a profound sense of urgency mixed with frustration. My wife suggested we check it out because it tied directly into a project I was working on, and while I had heard about it before, seeing the exhibits up close and then immersing myself in the details through books like Glen H. Doran’s Windover: Multidisciplinary Investigations of an Early Archaic Florida Cemetery (published by the University Press of Florida in 2002) changed everything for me. That visit wasn’t just a casual outing; it was a revelation about what American archaeology could be and what it has become under policies that, in my view, prioritize political narratives over truth-seeking discovery. This is part two of that discussion, building on what I wrote earlier about the dig itself, but now zooming in on why the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act—NAGPRA, which I’ve come to call the “Wolves Act” because of the cultural buzz around Dances with Wolves during its passage—needs to be repealed or fundamentally reformed. We should be following the example of Britain’s Time Team, not letting a 1990 law bury our history, as the developers and politicians did with that Florida pond after just three seasons of excavation.

Let me start from the beginning of my personal connection to this. I remember driving out to the area near Titusville with my wife, the kind of trip where you expect a quiet museum stop but walk away astonished. The Windover site, discovered in 1982 during road construction for a housing development called Windover Farms, turned out to be one of the most significant archaeological finds in the Western Hemisphere. A backhoe operator scooped up skulls, and what followed was a frantic but methodical excavation led by Glen Doran from Florida State University between 1984 and 1986. They uncovered remains of about 168 individuals buried in a shallow pond that had become a natural peat bog, preserving everything from brain tissue—the oldest known in the world at the time—to intricate textiles, wooden artifacts, bone tools, and more. These people lived around 7,000 to 8,000 years ago in the Early Archaic period, long before what we think of as “Native American” tribes like the Cherokee or Seminole even formed as we know them today. The preservation was phenomenal because of the pond’s anaerobic conditions; it was like a time capsule from a world we barely understand.

Reading Doran’s book afterward felt like stepping into that excavation myself. It’s a multidisciplinary masterpiece—environmental analysis, radiocarbon dating, paleoethnobotany, DNA studies from the brain tissue, mortuary patterns, the works. They found the oldest woven fabrics in the Southeast, complex cordage, and evidence of sophisticated lifeways that challenge the simplistic “hunter-gatherer” stereotypes. My wife and I stood there in the museum exhibits, looking at replicas and displays (some now limited or relocated due to modern restrictions), and I kept thinking: This is North America’s equivalent of discovering a lost civilization, yet it barely registers in our national consciousness. Why? Because right around the time the final analyses were wrapping up, NAGPRA dropped in 1990 like a political hammer. The law was signed by President George H.W. Bush on November 16, 1990, after being introduced in the House by Democrat Mo Udall of Arizona. It sailed through on voice votes, with strong Democratic backing amid a wave of activism and cultural sentiment fueled by movies like Dances with Wolves, which painted indigenous peoples as noble victims of American aggression. I was living through that era, very aware of the buzz in Washington. I wasn’t a Bush fan—I voted against him, worked against him in the ’92 election, even flirted with the Reform Party because I saw him as a RINO continuing the same globalist, sovereignty-eroding policies Democrats had long championed. This wasn’t some Republican innovation; it was a bipartisan surrender to a narrative that America’s foundations were built on theft and needed constant atonement.

NAGPRA’s stated goal was to protect Native American graves, repatriate human remains and cultural items from museums and federal agencies to lineal descendants or culturally affiliated tribes. On paper, it sounds reasonable—addressing real historical wrongs like grave robbing in the 19th century. But in practice, and especially for ancient sites like Windover, it’s been devastating. The remains at Windover predate any known modern tribal affiliations by millennia. DNA studies from the site (what little could be done before restrictions tightened) showed haplogroups tracing back to ancient Asian migrations, but nothing that tied them neatly to today’s federally recognized tribes. Yet the law forces institutions like Florida State University to consult tribes, inventory collections, and often repatriate or rebury without full study. FSU has issued NAGPRA notices for some collections, and the process drags on, limiting further research. The pond was partially backfilled after the initial dig; half the cemetery remains untouched, not because the science was done, but because funding dried up amid the political winds. Developers and archaeologists knew what was coming, so they rushed what they could. Today, if a similar site were found, it might never see the light of day beyond a quick salvage operation before reburial. That’s not science; that’s erasure disguised as respect.  It’s equivalent to modern-day book burning, only the material is destroyed before we even have a chance to discover it. 

I’ve seen this pattern before, and it screams deliberate policy to undermine American sovereignty. Democrats have long used “victim” groups—indigenous peoples, in this case—as levers to dismantle narratives of Western expansion and self-reliance. NAGPRA wasn’t born in a vacuum; it was part of a broader 1990s push that included open-border sentiments and identity politics. The same era gave us policies questioning every aspect of American settlement, from land use to energy. Bush signed it, sure, but as a continuation of the previous administration’s trajectory. I stepped away from the GOP at the time because it felt like the party was complicit in weakening the republic from within. This law doesn’t just repatriate; it creates a framework in which federal recognition of tribes governs everything on or near federal lands, which is a huge chunk of the country. It turns archaeologists into bureaucrats navigating tribal consultations instead of digging for truth. And for sites with no clear affiliation—like the 8,000-year-old Windover bones, which likely belonged to pre-Clovis or early Archaic peoples who other groups later displaced—it effectively halts inquiry. How do you return remains to a tribe that didn’t exist yet? You don’t; you bury the evidence and pretend the history starts with the groups Democrats designate as “indigenous.”

This ties directly into the speculation about giants and multiple cultures in the Ohio Valley and Mississippi River mounds that I’ve pondered for years. Old newspaper accounts and 19th-century reports from the Smithsonian and others described oversized skulls and skeletons in Adena and Hopewell mounds—evidence, some say, of earlier populations. Modern archaeology dismisses much of it as exaggeration or hoaxes, but the pattern is suspicious: NAGPRA and similar policies make it risky even to revisit those claims with new tech like DNA. If there were prior cultures—perhaps Solutrean influences from Europe or other migrations predating the Beringia model—it challenges the singular “Native Americans as eternal stewards” narrative. Pre-Clovis sites like Buttermilk Creek in Texas (15,000+ years old) and genetic evidence of multiple waves into the Americas already poke holes in the old Clovis-first theory. Yet NAGPRA’s cultural affiliation rules often default to modern tribes, erasing the complexity. It’s the same playbook as border policies today: open the gates, label critics as aggressors, and rewrite the founding story to justify dismantling sovereignty. Democrats didn’t invent this overnight; it’s been their trajectory—using “aggrieved” groups to fracture the American experiment.

Compare that to what’s happening in Great Britain with Time Team. If you’ve never watched it, do yourself a favor—episodes are all over YouTube now, even after the show ended its main run on Channel 4. Hosted by Tony Robinson with archaeologists like Mick Aston, Phil Harding, and Carenza Lewis, it was a phenomenon from 1994 to 2014. They’d show up at a site—often tipped off by locals or metal detectorists—spend three days digging with geophysics, volunteers, and experts, then reveal everything from Roman villas to Neolithic tombs to medieval villages. No endless permits bogged down by politics; English Heritage and local councils supported it. The archaeologists became celebrities, the public ate it up, and it funded real research while turning history into entertainment. They published scientific papers too—more than some university departments. Stonehenge, Hadrian’s Wall, Roman baths: Britain celebrates layer upon layer of its past, from Mesolithic to medieval, without erasing any group. Bones from Iron Age, Bronze Age, or Roman contexts are studied for diet, disease, migration—not reburied to appease a modern political framework. It’s respectful scholarship that builds national pride, not guilt. I’ve been to England; their heritage sites are tourist magnets, economic engines, and educational goldmines. Archaeologists there are rock stars, not bureaucrats.

Why can’t we do that here? Japan has underwater sites off the coast of Osaka; China guards its ancient tombs but still excavates selectively. Even in the volatile Middle East, guys like Joel Kramer on his Expedition Bible YouTube channel navigate borders, checkpoints, and regimes to document sites from Sodom to Shiloh. His book Where God Came Down is a masterclass in persistence amid obstacles. The Biblical Archaeology Society and Biblical Archaeology Review fight for dig seasons in Israel despite political minefields—hostile neighbors, military oversight, and permit battles. Yet they publish voraciously because the region’s history is too vital to bury. In the U.S., we have a free country, capital markets, and vast untouched potential—from Florida ponds to Ohio mounds to underwater sites off the coasts—and we tie our hands with NAGPRA. Developers bulldoze sites quietly to avoid red tape; museums shelve collections. The Windover team saw the writing on the wall and wrapped up just as the law hit. The 2002 book exists as a snapshot of what was possible pre-NAGPRA; post-law, that level of open inquiry is gone.

This isn’t abstract. It harms research into who we really are as Americans. Western expansion wasn’t just conquest; it was building on layers of human history, some of which involved the displacement of earlier groups by later ones—just like everywhere else on Earth. Suppressing that validates a one-sided story used to push globalist agendas: open borders, energy restrictions framed as “respecting the land,” and centralized control. The same forces behind NAGPRA cheer solar mandates while demonizing natural gas and erasing our industrial heritage, just as they erase pre-Columbian complexity. I’ve said it before in my writings and streams: Rumble and independent platforms are game-changers because legacy media conceals this. There’s no evidence of giants or advanced pre-Native societies, they claim—yet policies prevent the digs that could prove or disprove it. Old Smithsonian reports from the 1800s detailed large skeletons in mounds; modern DNA from Hopewell and Adena sites shows continuity with later Native groups but also hints of admixture. Why not let the marketplace of ideas decide through open science?

Imagine an American Time Team. Archaeologists as celebrities on the Discovery Channel, live digs at mound sites or Florida bogs, public volunteers, and tourist revenue fund more work. Stonehenge draws millions; why not make Windover or Serpent Mound a Disney-level attraction with VR reconstructions, exhibits, and ongoing excavations? We have the capital, the freedom, the talent. Instead, we have rogue developers destroying sites, and universities complying with repatriation, which halts study. FSU still holds some Windover materials, but NAGPRA inventories and consultations limit what can be done. Rachel Wentz’s popular book Life and Death at Windover captures the human story—families, health, rituals—but even that feels like a last gasp before the freeze.

Repealing or reforming NAGPRA for remains older than, say, 5,000 years—where affiliation is impossible—would be a start. Treat ancient bones like science treats Ötzi the Iceman in Europe: study, learn, share. Respect living tribes’ concerns for recent remains, but don’t let it blanket 15,000 years of migration and replacement. England’s approach proves you can honor the dead without erasing history. Their Time Team episodes on Roman occupation or Neolithic life don’t undermine modern Britain; they enrich it. We need that here—full stop.

My effort in writing this and in pushing these ideas on my platforms stems from that museum visit and the book that followed. It’s personal: I want my kids and grandkids to know the full story of this continent, not a sanitized version designed to undermine the republic. The Windover discovery was a window—a fantastic, irreplaceable one—into a sophisticated past. NAGPRA closed it. Democrats knew what they were doing in 1990, riding the Dances with Wolves wave to frame America as a perpetual aggressor. Republicans like Bush went along. It’s the same game as today’s policies. We deserve better: open archaeology, public celebration, evidence wherever it leads. Let’s make American digs rock stars again. The Time Team model isn’t just British; it’s what humanity needs. And it starts by repealing the laws that bury our past to serve political ends.

Footnotes

1.  Glen H. Doran, ed., Windover: Multidisciplinary Investigations of an Early Archaic Florida Cemetery (University Press of Florida, 2002). Core source for site details, artifacts, and analyses.

2.  Rachel Wentz, Life and Death at Windover: Excavations of a 7,000-Year-Old Pond Cemetery (personal accounts and bioarchaeology).

3.  Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act, Pub. L. 101-601 (1990). Legislative history via Congress.gov; signed by GHW Bush.

4.  Time Team episodes, Channel 4 (UK), available on YouTube; see also English Heritage reports on public archaeology impact.

5.  Joel P. Kramer, Where God Came Down: The Archaeological Evidence (Expedition Bible publications); YouTube channel documents border and access challenges.

6.  Biblical Archaeology Review archives detail permit struggles in the Holy Land due to geopolitics.

7.  Pre-Clovis and migration studies: e.g., Waters et al. on Buttermilk Creek (Science, 2011); ancient DNA papers in PNAS and Nature on multiple waves.

8.  Historical mound reports: 19th-century Smithsonian and newspaper accounts (contextualized in modern critiques); DNA from Hopewell sites (Ohio History Connection studies).

Bibliography for Further Reading

•  Doran, Glen H., ed. Windover: Multidisciplinary Investigations of an Early Archaic Florida Cemetery. University Press of Florida, 2002.

•  Wentz, Rachel. Life and Death at Windover. University Press of Florida (related publications).

•  U.S. Congress. Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA), 25 U.S.C. 3001 et seq. (1990).

•  Robinson, Tony, et al. Time Team series (1994–2014). Channel 4; scientific outputs summarized in Current Archaeology and English Heritage reports.

•  Kramer, Joel P. Where God Came Down. Expedition Bible, 2022 (approx.).

•  Biblical Archaeology Society. Biblical Archaeology Review (ongoing issues on global dig challenges).

•  Waters, Michael R., et al. “The Buttermilk Creek Complex and the Origins of Clovis at the Debra L. Friedkin Site, Texas.” Science, 2011.

•  Mills, Lisa A. “Ancient DNA from the Ohio Hopewell.” Ohio History Connection research.

•  ProPublica/NBC investigations on NAGPRA implementation (2023 reports on repatriation delays and impacts).

•  Additional: Federal Register notices on FSU NAGPRA inventories (2021+); Archaeological Conservancy site profiles on Windover.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

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

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

The Sex Cults of Artemis: We need to choose a name that sustains not just the body of exploration, but the soul of civilization itself.        

Artemis is going back to the moon, and I’m really not crazy about the name. I didn’t like it when they first came up with it, and I still don’t. It feels like one more concession to a secular worldview that pretends ancient pagan deities are just harmless branding exercises—cool-sounding relics from a long-dead culture that “everybody can agree on.” But history doesn’t work that way. Names carry weight. They carry spiritual baggage. And when NASA reached for a name to replace the glory days of Apollo and send us back to the lunar surface, they chose Artemis, the Greek moon goddess and twin sister of Apollo. On the surface, it sounds clever, a neat mythological bookend. But dig even a little deeper, and you’re wading into the same fertility cults, temple rituals, and appeasement of dark forces that early Christian writers confronted head-on in the Mediterranean world two thousand years ago. I’ve spent years studying this pattern, and it’s the backbone of a book I’m finishing called The Politics of Heaven. What we’re seeing with the Artemis program isn’t just branding. It’s a symptom of a much older struggle between the human spirit and the principalities that have always hungered for our attention, our bodies, and our collective sanity.

Let me start with the obvious. The Temple of Artemis at Ephesus was one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, a massive marble edifice that dominated the city and the entire region. Built and rebuilt over centuries, it was more than a tourist attraction or a bank (which it also was—temples doubled as secure depositories). It was the epicenter of a cult that blended Greek mythology with older Near Eastern fertility worship. Artemis herself, in her Ephesian form, was often depicted with dozens of breasts or egg-like ornaments, symbols that modern scholars sometimes try to downplay as “not really about sex or fertility.” Yet the ancient world understood her differently. She was the goddess of the hunt and the wilderness, of chastity in some tellings, yet deeply entangled with the cycles of birth and reproduction, and the raw forces of nature. Her temple drew pilgrims, merchants, and locals who participated in festivals filled with processions, music, dancing, and—according to multiple ancient reports—rituals that involved the offering of human vitality, including sexual acts, to appease the divine.

Christian writers of the period didn’t shy away from describing what they saw. In Acts 19, the apostle Paul’s ministry in Ephesus sparks a riot among the silversmiths who made shrines to “the great goddess Diana” (the Roman name for Artemis). The city clerk calms the crowd by reminding them that Ephesus is the “temple keeper of the great Artemis, and of the image which fell from Jupiter.” That “image” was likely a meteorite revered as a divine gift, tying the cult directly to celestial forces. But Paul and the early Christians saw something far darker at work. They weren’t just opposing statues or tourism revenue. They were confronting a system of spiritual appeasement that had roots stretching back thousands of years to the fertility cults of Mesopotamia—Inanna, Ishtar, Astarte, and their Greek and Roman counterparts. These goddesses demanded sacrifice, often in the form of sexual union performed in or near the temple precincts. Women—sometimes all women in certain cultures—were expected to spend time as temple prostitutes, offering their bodies to strangers for money that went to the temple treasury. It wasn’t “empowerment” or personal choice in our modern sense. It was a collective duty to the gods, a way to ensure fertility for the land, prosperity for the city, and protection from whatever malevolent forces lurked in the spirit realm if the rituals were neglected.

Secular historians and archaeologists today often dismiss these accounts as Christian propaganda or exaggeration. They point out that direct physical evidence—carved reliefs, unambiguous inscriptions—is scarce at Ephesus because the temple was largely destroyed, its stones carted off for other buildings after Christianity became the dominant faith of the empire. Digging seasons in Turkey are short; the site has been layered over by centuries of occupation, and hostile conditions (political, environmental) have limited excavation. But absence of evidence isn’t evidence of absence, especially when you’re dealing with practices that were deliberately secretive or oral in nature. We have reports from Herodotus, Strabo, and other classical writers describing sacred prostitution in temples dedicated to similar goddesses across the region. In Babylon, for instance, every woman was reportedly required once in her life to sit in the temple of Ishtar (or Mylitta) and have intercourse with a stranger for a fee. Similar customs are attested in Cyprus, Phoenicia, and parts of Asia Minor. The early Church fathers didn’t invent these stories out of thin air; they were reacting to what they witnessed firsthand on the frontiers of the Roman East.

I believe we can trust those Christian reports precisely because the behavior they condemned persists. It just wears different clothes. Look at modern nightclub culture—the so-called “meat markets” that young people, especially women aged eighteen to twenty-four, are actively encouraged to frequent before “settling down.” Bachelorette parties where sexual impropriety is not only tolerated but celebrated. The progressive push for “sexual liberation” and “women’s rights” frames any restraint as patriarchal oppression. We send our daughters—girls who were playing with Legos and dolls just a few years earlier—into environments of throbbing music, flashing lights, alcohol, and physical grinding that would have been right at home in an ancient fertility festival. They dress in scandalously revealing outfits, present their bodies for public consumption, and are told it’s all harmless fun, a phase to “get out of their system.” The money doesn’t go to a temple treasury anymore, but the spiritual transaction is eerily parallel: the sacrifice of personal sanctity, the abandonment of the body to collective debauchery, the implicit agreement that youth and vitality must be offered up so the rest of society can enjoy peace from whatever unseen forces demand their due.

This isn’t hyperbole. It’s pattern recognition. Ephesians 6:12 puts it plainly: “For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” The apostle Paul, writing to the very church in Ephesus that had just emerged from the shadow of Artemis worship, understood that these weren’t abstract metaphors. The spirit world is real, and it competes for control of human bodies and minds. The body is the vehicle for the soul, but it’s a vulnerable one. When people impair their consciousness—through drunkenness, drugs, or ritual frenzy—they loosen the tether that keeps the conscious self in the driver’s seat. Competing spirits rush in. Personalities split, behaviors turn erratic, sanity fluctuates. Ancient temple prostitutes weren’t just performing an economic or social function; they were opening doorways. The same doorways we open every weekend in clubs across America and Europe. The music changes, the lighting gets fancier, but the appeasement of disembodied entities hungry for human essence remains constant.

My own explorations into these dynamics—through reading, observation, and reflection on how evil operates in human societies—have convinced me that we cannot separate the material world from the spiritual one. We are entangled. Secularism’s great lie is that we can neuter history, strip away the sacred (or the diabolical), and treat ancient gods as cartoon characters for mission patches and rocket fairings. NASA did exactly that with Artemis. After the Obama-era push to highlight “Islamic contributions to science” and diversify the agency with voices from every culture, the name was pitched as inclusive, neutral, non-offensive. Why pick something biblical when you could pick a “cool” pagan goddess that “everybody can agree on”? It’s the same impulse that led the agency’s early rocketry pioneers into occult territory. Jack Parsons, one of the founders of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL), was a brilliant chemist and engineer by day and a devoted Thelemite occultist by night. A disciple of Aleister Crowley, Parsons performed the Babalon Working in 1946 with L. Ron Hubbard—sex magic rituals involving masturbation onto magical tablets, invocations of the goddess Babalon (a Thelemic stand-in for the Scarlet Woman of Revelation), and attempts to incarnate demonic forces into the material plane. He saw no contradiction between rocket science and summoning ancient entities. In fact, he believed his rituals fueled his breakthroughs. NASA loves to celebrate the Apollo era’s clean, heroic image while quietly glossing over the fact that the foundational rocketry work at JPL had deep roots in Parsons’ dual obsessions. The cult origins of NASA aren’t a conspiracy theory; they’re documented in biographies like George Pendle’s Strange Angel. Parsons literally signed letters as “The Antichrist” and conducted black masses in his Pasadena home.

This brings me back to why naming the lunar return program after Artemis bothers me so much. It’s not just semantics. It’s a continuation of the same appeasement strategy humanity has employed for millennia. In ancient times, societies sacrificed their youth—virginity, vitality, individual dignity—to fertility goddesses in hopes that the “hungry gods” would leave the collective alone. Today we do it with our entertainment, our dating apps, our “hook-up culture,” and our refusal to draw moral lines. We tell young women that their bodies are theirs to offer freely in the nightclub meat market, that restraint is repression, and that any talk of spiritual consequences is outdated superstition. Meanwhile, the principalities and powers—those same competing souls and disembodied spirits that haunted the temples of Artemis, Ishtar, and Astarte—continue their work. They don’t need marble altars anymore; smartphones, social media, and Saturday-night fever vibes do the job just fine. The result is the same: fractured personalities, generational trauma, and a culture that robs itself of sanity in exchange for momentary collective highs.

I’m not suggesting NASA should abandon space exploration—quite the opposite. I love NASA. I want it to succeed. I want humanity to expand beyond Earth, to sustain life across the solar system, perhaps even outlive our home planet. But if we’re going to do that with any long-term credibility and moral foundation, we should draw from the best of our cultural inheritance—not the pagan underbelly that early Christians rightly rebelled against. Western civilization, for all its flaws, is rooted in biblical ideology. Why not name a program after a figure from Scripture that embodies vision, endurance, or divine favor? Something that signals we’ve learned from history rather than repeating its mistakes. The Artemis choice feels like a deliberate step away from that heritage, a nod to the “neutral” secular narrative that pretends spirit doesn’t matter. But spirit does matter. The body is the vehicle for the soul’s journey, and there are always entities eager to hijack the wheel when we let our guard down.

Archaeology may not have uncovered every detail of those ancient sex rituals—not yet, anyway—but the Christian eyewitness accounts from the period fill the gap. Paul’s letters to the Ephesians, the riot in Acts 19, and the writings of the early Church fathers all paint a consistent picture of cultures steeped in fertility worship that demanded human essence as payment. The temples are mostly gone now, reduced to a few pillars and scattered stones at Ephesus, but the underlying spiritual dynamic hasn’t vanished. It’s migrated into our secular rituals: the nightclub as temple, the DJ as high priest, the dance floor as altar. Young women (and men, though the pressure on females has always been more pronounced in these cults) are still expected to “do their tour of duty,” to offer themselves to the collective before committing to marriage and family. We call it empowerment. The ancients called it piety. Both are forms of appeasement.

In The Politics of Heaven, I unpack this at much greater length—how evil works through human institutions, how spirit and matter are inseparable, how competing souls vie for control of our bodies, and why yielding to animalistic impulses under the guise of “freedom” always leads to cultural decline. The book has taken years of research, reflection, and editorial effort, but the core argument is simple: we cannot outrun the spiritual realm by renaming it or pretending it’s mythology. NASA’s decision to invoke Artemis is a small but telling example of a larger societal failure to learn from history. We keep making the same stupid mistakes because we’re afraid of being called intolerant by the secular crowd. We’d rather appease the principalities than confront them.

If we truly want a sustainable future—one that includes permanent human presence on the Moon and beyond—we need to stop revering the old gods, even in name only. The cults of fertility and debauchery didn’t produce enduring civilizations; they produced cycles of excess, collapse, and moral exhaustion. Christianity’s radical break from those practices—its insistence on individual sanctity, monogamous marriage, and spiritual warfare against the powers of darkness—gave the West the moral framework that eventually launched the scientific revolution and the space age itself. Let’s honor that trajectory instead of reaching backward for pagan branding that sounds “cool” to focus groups.

I’ve seen too much evidence, both ancient and contemporary, to believe otherwise. The spirits that demanded appeasement in the temples of Ephesus and Babylon are the same ones whispering through our modern meat markets and cultural expectations. They thrive on impaired minds, abandoned bodies, and the sacrifice of youth. We don’t defeat them by pretending they don’t exist or by giving their old names new rocket programs. We defeat them by calling them what they are, drawing lines in the sand, and choosing names—and behaviors—that reflect the better angels of our nature rather than the demons we’ve never truly escaped. The Moon awaits, but the path we take to get there matters. Artemis might get us there faster on paper, but at what spiritual cost? I’d rather we choose a name that sustains not just the body of exploration, but the soul of civilization itself.        

Footnotes

1.  NASA official statements on the Artemis program naming, 2019 announcement by Administrator Jim Bridenstine.

2.  George Pendle, Strange Angel: The Otherworldly Life of Rocket Scientist John Whiteside Parsons (2005).

3.  Ephesians 6:12 (KJV).

4.  Acts 19:23-41, especially v. 35.

5.  Herodotus, Histories (on Babylonian customs of Ishtar/Mylitta); Strabo, Geography (references to temple practices in Asia Minor and Corinth).

6.  S.M. Baugh, “Cult Prostitution in New Testament Ephesus,” JETS 42/3 (1999), though I disagree with his dismissal of the broader pattern reported by early Christians.

7.  Stephanie Lynn Budin, The Myth of Sacred Prostitution in Antiquity (2008)—a secular counter-view that I believe underestimates eyewitness testimony from the period.

8.  Richard Metzger’s accounts of Parsons’ Babalon Working rituals.

9.  N.T. Wright, lectures on Ephesus and the Artemis cult background.

10.  My ongoing research for The Politics of Heaven (forthcoming).

Bibliography for Further Reading

•  Bible (King James Version), especially Acts 19, Ephesians 6, and 1 Timothy 2.

•  Pendle, George. Strange Angel: The Otherworldly Life of Rocket Scientist John Whiteside Parsons. Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2005.

•  Herodotus. The Histories. Translated by Aubrey de Sélincourt. Penguin Classics.

•  Strabo. Geography. Loeb Classical Library.

•  Baugh, S.M. “Cult Prostitution in New Testament Ephesus.” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 42, no. 3 (1999).

•  Budin, Stephanie Lynn. The Myth of Sacred Prostitution in Antiquity. Cambridge University Press, 2008.

•  Kramer, Samuel Noah. The Sacred Marriage Rite. Indiana University Press, 1969 (for the Mesopotamian context).

•  NASA historical documents on Project Apollo and Artemis program origins.

•  Wright, N.T. Paul and the Faithfulness of God (relevant sections on pagan cults in Asia Minor).

•  Additional archaeological reports on Ephesus from the Austrian Archaeological Institute and related publications on the Artemision.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Footnotes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bibliography for Further Reading

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OpenPayrolls.com. Lakota employee salary database.

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

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

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

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

The Unraveling of Commissioner Cindy Carpenter: When Behavior Catches Up in Butler County Politics

In Butler County, Ohio, public office is supposed to be about service, fiscal responsibility, and representing the people who elected you—not leveraging your title for personal favors, flipping off constituents on camera, or repeatedly crossing party lines while clinging to a Republican label. Yet for over a decade, Butler County Commissioner Cindy Carpenter has operated in ways that have tested those expectations, culminating in a series of self-inflicted controversies that now threaten her long-held seat. The latest chapter, unfolding quietly but decisively in early February 2026, marks a turning point: on February 3, 2026, during a regularly scheduled commissioners’ meeting, the board—acting on advice from Prosecutor Michael Gmoser—voted to remove Carpenter from her position on the Housing and Homeless Coalition board due to mounting complaints about her conduct. This isn’t speculation or rumor; it’s documented in public video of the meeting, where the prosecutor’s guidance was read into the record, underscoring that the severity of the issues warranted her immediate removal pending further review.[1]

This move didn’t come out of nowhere. It builds directly on the December 2025 investigation into Carpenter’s heated exchange at her granddaughter’s apartment complex near Miami University in Oxford. What started as a family visit escalated into accusations of racist language, intimidation, and abuse of office. The apartment manager filed a formal complaint, prompting Prosecutor Gmoser to investigate. His report, read aloud at a commission meeting shortly after, cleared her of criminal wrongdoing—no charges for intimidation or racial utterances that would trigger prosecution—but pulled no punches on the optics: her behavior was “distasteful” and “beneath the dignity of an elected officeholder.”[2] Carpenter admitted to making an obscene gesture (the middle finger) caught on video, but denied any racial slurs. The prosecutor emphasized it wasn’t illegal, but that leniency was never meant to be a free pass. It was a warning that such actions erode public trust, especially from someone in a position of authority.

Fast-forward to January 2026, and the political repercussions accelerated. The Butler County Republican Party, which had long endorsed Carpenter in past cycles, shifted decisively. At their endorsement meeting, they backed challenger Michael Ryan—a former Hamilton City Council member—with a strong 71% vote, described internally as “historic.”[3] Carpenter didn’t even seek the endorsement this time, a move party chair Todd Hall called “not unusual” for her, but one that spoke volumes. Ryan’s platform emphasizes conservative values, accountability, and a fresh approach to county issues like economic development and public safety—areas where Carpenter’s tenure has drawn criticism for divisiveness. Other challengers, including a Democrat (Mike Miller) and minor Republican candidates, round out the May 2026 primary field, but Ryan’s GOP backing positions him as the serious alternative.

Why the party abandonment? It’s not just politics; it’s pattern recognition. Carpenter has served since 2011, winning multiple terms but often amid complaints about her temperament. Colleagues and observers describe her as “difficult” to work with—quick to outbursts, resistant to collaboration, and prone to going rogue on policy. One glaring example: while holding a Republican endorsement, she was caught campaigning for a Democrat—Middletown’s mayor—at a polling place, holding signs and promoting the candidate.[4] That incident alone alienated many in the GOP base, who saw it as a slap in the face to party loyalty. For years, she received the benefit of the doubt: “That’s just her personality,” people said. “She flies off the handle sometimes, but she’s effective.” But effectiveness wears thin when trust erodes.

The homelessness portfolio, ironically, has been a flashpoint. Carpenter has long advocated for addressing homelessness, chairing related committees, and pushing for more permanent supportive housing units (she cited a need for 274 in prior gap analyses).[5] Yet her approach has sparked internal rifts. In 2025, she led a grassroots effort through her Housing and Homeless Collaborative to remove Butler County from Ohio’s Balance of State Continuum of Care, seeking independent HUD status to secure additional funding potentially.[6] Commissioners Don Dixon and T.C. Rogers vigorously opposed it, sending objection letters and questioning accountability for millions of taxpayer dollars. Dixon was concerned about providers making unchecked decisions without voter oversight; Carpenter argued that urban counties like Hamilton and Montgomery receive far more funding under similar arrangements.[7] The split highlighted her willingness to buck the majority on the board she shares with them.

Enter the February 3, 2026, meeting. Amid ongoing fallout from the Oxford incident, new complaints surfaced—severe enough that Prosecutor Gmoser advised Dixon and Rogers, as legal counsel to the board, to remove Carpenter from the Housing and Homeless Coalition board immediately.[8] The prosecutor isn’t pursuing criminal charges (yet), but his guidance underscores that elected officials must maintain public confidence. Complaints from coalition members, providers, or stakeholders—possibly building on years of perceived abrasiveness—pushed the issue over the edge. Dixon voted in favor of the removal; the action passed, stripping her from a board central to her self-proclaimed expertise. Video from the meeting shows the discussion, the prosecutor’s letter read aloud, and the vote—no ambiguity.[9]

This isn’t a partisan witch hunt. The complaints aren’t coming solely from political opponents; they’re from people who’ve dealt with her directly—young residents at the apartment complex who felt bullied, coalition partners frustrated by her style, and even fellow Republicans tired of defending the indefensible. As noted, “You can’t be mad and say things or do things that people can scrutinize negatively—you have to be smart enough not to walk into traps.” Throwing your weight around as a commissioner to demand special treatment for family, then escalating when challenged, is exactly that trap. When it’s on camera, it doesn’t fade; it festers.

The broader lesson here is accountability. Public officials aren’t above scrutiny. Carpenter’s 11+ years in office gave her the benefit of the doubt for too long—personality quirks excused, party-crossing overlooked, outbursts tolerated. But once the Oxford video surfaced, the dam broke. More people felt empowered to speak: “If she did that there, what about here?” The prosecutor’s initial “not criminal, but distasteful” statement was fair at the time; now, with additional complaints drawing him back in, it’s harder to dismiss. He has other priorities—crime, opioids, budgets—but when complaints pile up against a commissioner, he must investigate. Removing her from the homelessness board isn’t punishment; it’s prudence. Trust in county government requires it.

For voters heading into the May 2026 primary, the choice is clear. Michael Ryan offers a contrast: endorsed by the GOP, focused on conservative principles, and with no history of similar scandals. He’s attended events, built relationships, and positioned himself as a team player. Carpenter’s absence from many GOP gatherings and her reputation for difficulty have left her isolated. The primary isn’t about punishing her—it’s about what’s best for Butler County. A commissioner who can’t handle public interaction without controversy, who loses party support, and who faces board removals isn’t serving effectively.

Her past is catching up because she built the momentum herself. No one forced her to go to that apartment complex and leverage her title. No one made her flip off people on camera. No one compelled the emotional outbursts or party-line crossings. Those were choices. Now, consequences follow—not because of “politics,” but because behavior matters. In a Republican-leaning county like Butler, voters expect alignment and decorum. When that’s absent, options emerge.

This story matters beyond one person. It reminds everyone in the office that power is temporary and trust is earned daily. When you abuse it—even in small ways—it compounds. Carpenter could have de-escalated, apologized fully, and collaborated more. Instead, the pattern continued, and now the board on which she sits has acted against her. The prosecutor provided avenues for explanation; she hasn’t helped herself.

Butler County deserves better than stale leadership mired in self-made drama. The shoes are dropping, and they’re landing squarely where they belong—on choices made over the years.  Cindy Carpenter is a mess, and there are now fewer and fewer people around to clean it up.  Because she just keeps making messes. 

Bibliography / Sources

1.  Video evidence from Butler County Commissioners’ meeting, February 3, 2026 (public session; removal vote and prosecutor’s advice read into record).

2.  Butler County Prosecutor Michael Gmoser’s report, December 2025 (read into commission record; covered in Journal-News, December 3, 2025).

3.  Butler County GOP endorsement announcement for Michael Ryan, January 2026 (Journal-News, January 12, 2026).

4.  Reports of Carpenter campaigning for the Democratic Middletown mayor (local accounts, referenced in multiple critiques).

5.  Carpenter statements on homelessness gap analysis (Journal-News, various 2023–2025 articles).

6.  Efforts to redesignate Continuum of Care (Journal-News, March 2025; Cincinnati Enquirer, July 2025).

7.  Dixon/Rogers objection letter and board discussions (Citizen Portal, March 2025).

8.  Prosecutor Gmoser’s advice on board removal (February 3, 2026, meeting video; emerging mentions on social media, e.g., Facebook groups).

9.  Public meeting archives, Butler County website (butlercountyohio.org; video footage).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Notes on doxing actions:

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

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

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

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

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

Bibliography

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rich Hoffman

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

The Real Way to Get Peace in the Middle East: Going door to door where evil lives and thrives

I think it’s nice that Trump did a deal to get the hostages back in Israel.  But the cause of the trouble between the Palestinian’s and Israel was not present at that peace negotiation.  The politicians are not the cause of the conflict, and if we really want to solve the problem and bring peace to the Middle East, then the source of that trouble will have to be eliminated.  I recommend performing that task without any state involvement.  The United States doesn’t need to commit ground troops toward lasting peace.  All it needs to do is step aside and give contractors a “get out of jail free card.”  To allow contractors to go into the Gaza Strip and go door to door, eliminating the perpetrators of violence.  When you travel through the area, you can learn a lot about a culture, and one of the most dominant influences in their bookstores is The Protocols of the Elders of Zion and Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf.  The people who order those books to be sold, and the publishers who knowingly try to keep that kind of anger alive by blowing on the embers of evil, are the cause of the trouble, and they’ll have to be eliminated.  And until we are willing to play that game, there will be no peace, anywhere, not in the Middle East, nor on American college campuses.  The enemy lives in the minds of the vacant, empty souls of evil who want people to fight in a bloody conflict for all kinds of terrible reasons.  Everyone may clap that some tortured souls who managed to live through that captivity were returned to their families.  But the problem is far from solved.  Nobody could blame Trump for trying.  Yet the solution is still lingering in the tunnels and back rooms of the Gaza Strip, and many other places around Israel, and they are planting the demise of the Jewish country as we speak. 

Hamas had its money dry up after the bombing of Iran, and Trump has put everyone on their heels, including Qatar, who are the primary sponsors of terror in the region, and they want Israel wiped from the face of the earth.  I have a unique understanding of this problem from the science side, and the battle over the Temple Mount is the key to it.  The Arabs are never going to get over what the British did to them over Sykes-Picot after World War I, and how they felt double-crossed at the end of World War II, when the United Nations decided to give the Jewish people their own country, and Israel was created in what the Palestinians considered their land.  But this fight, as Trump said, goes back many thousands of years to when Yahweh encouraged the Hebrew people, the Jews, to raid the land of Canaan and resettle the land righteously for them.  And all that went well beyond 4000 years ago, even further to the land dispute that God was clearly very aggressive about.  And since that time —the First Temple period, especially with Solomon and King David’s threshing floor —the dispute has continued, with no end in sight.  The Jewish people were constantly attacked and removed from the land and dispersed as exiles all over the world.  Until the United Nations came along and imposed a Jewish state, and everyone had to get along with the idea, which has caused all the wars there for all these years.  Looming always in the background is the hostile views of the Muslim community toward all outsiders, which feeds the anger of pitting the Quran against the Holy Bible as a source document for understanding eternity. 

Knowing Trump had everyone pegged down for destruction, the Palestinian movement is going back underground while the politicians save themselves from financial destruction and give Trump what he wants.  Visible peace in the Middle East so that they aren’t crushed by the aggression of a much stronger enemy, the United States.  They only made a deal because Iran has fallen apart, the Marxism of the area behind the teachings of the Quran is being challenged by populism, so they are, for their own preservation, making a show of peace for the cameras.  The real solution will be to eliminate the leaders of discontent, as in the United States.  There are a lot of voices hiding behind what they think are Constitutional protections of free speech, who are outright anti-American terrorists, and they will stop at nothing to destroy those they don’t like.  Look at the youth movement behind the killing of Charlie Kirk.  Those kids didn’t come up with those thoughts on their own. Instead, they received their thinking from influences who are still very much at work and just holding their nose through Trump’s terms in office.  That same radicalism showed itself on ABC News when George Stephonopolis cut off Vice President J.D. Vance during a Sunday show recently.  They are all united behind a curtain of discontent and just waiting for Trump to be removed from the world stage.  And a future president was treated like a rag doll by those same elements, disrespectfully cutting him off to show him disrespect purposely.  That’s the kind of evil that puts those books in the book stores of the Middle East, from Egypt to Turkey, and everything to the East, all the way over to India. 

The best way to deal with these terrorists who hide behind polite society is to hire contractors to eliminate them, $100K per head.  Cut off the enemy’s head and put it in a bag for payment by an independent contributor.  Keep the states out of it and fight this battle away from the borders of nations, but door to door, where the bad guys really live, and create so much purposeful, strategic hate, to destabilize society to the liking of evil.  I would volunteer for that kind of thing, and many people could get very rich as privateers, much as it was in the golden age of piracy.  There are plenty of ways to do it, and all that would be needed from a country like America is to leave the process alone.  Let contractors go into Gaza and collect the heads of the terrorists.  Everyone knows where they live; go in and get them.  Take the terror to their doorsteps and save the ink on the peace deals.  Because as long as they are allowed to live, they will seek to bring evil into the world.  And that goes for areas outside of the Middle East as well.  Even in New York City or Chicago.  The Antifa terrorists of Portland.  They are being crushed now by a Trump administration willing to perform the task.  But the evil is still lingering, going underground.  And it’s there where evil must be hunted, door to door, and with soldiers of fortune carrying around pillow bags to carry the heads of their trophies.  Turn those kinds of people loose, pay them well under the table, and attack the rats where they live.  Don’t let them continue to publish books like Mein Kampf and The Protocols of the Elders of Zion.  Or even to burn down churches in Paris in the name of the Quran.  That hatred even found expression in the creation of the Quran in 610 AD by Muhammad, which sought to displace the emerging Christian movement that had united the Roman Empire in 313 AD.  These were not religious pursuits intended to gain entry into the gates of heaven, but rather to destabilize the governments of the world through military raids.  And that same youth is being corrupted everywhere in the world at the point of learning.  And it’s a real threat to any potential peace efforts.  That is, unless you physically remove the perpetrators with door-to-door contractors.  And speak the only language those kinds of enemies understand, ruthless violence, mercifully applied to the root cause of evil itself.  And nothing less.

Rich Hoffman

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

Ethics in Politics: Holding grudges won’t help win races, or maintain political management

Social interactions are at the heart of human discourse, and I speak from the perspective of someone who has spent a long time building relationships—not always easily, and certainly not always with universal approval. People often talk about love and unity, but I wouldn’t say I’m universally loved. In fact, I’m probably excessively hated by many, and I understand why. It’s not something I wake up hoping to change. I don’t start my day thinking, “I want people to love me today.” That’s not the goal. The goal is to make things work, and sometimes that means doing things others aren’t willing to accept. That’s when people get mad.

Recently, I’ve been vocal about supporting Ben Nguyen for the Lakota School Board. That’s stirred up some discussion. Lynda O’Connor has supported him, the former Lakota school board member who a lot of people are still very angry with.  I was at Ben’s fundraiser at Nancy Nix’s house, and Isaac Adi, another Lakota school board member was there too. I’ve seen Isaac at a few events, and we’ve had the opportunity to talk a bit. There has been tension between us, especially with the way his relationship with Darbi Boddy evolved, and how our policies got tangled up. That situation has many layers behind the scenes. If you want to talk ethics, you can justify being mad at people for what they do to each other.  I’ve been married for 37 years and have learned a lot about dealing with other people. I’ve dealt with all kinds of people—kids, grandkids, colleagues—and not everyone aligns with your goals. You have to find a way to make it work.

If you draw a hard line and say, “It’s my way or the highway,” you might be ethically correct, but you’ll lose people. And if you’re trying to influence something, losing people means losing effectiveness. Politics isn’t about making friends. When you’re trying to bring groups together, you can’t fall into the trap of friendship-based peer pressure. You have to rely on the strength of your ideas in a competitive environment. Politics isn’t a branding exercise. You can either withdraw from society or face the challenge of building teams to accomplish a task. It becomes dicey when political affiliations are based on relationships rather than ideas.

You want the best ideas to emerge. You want a competitive atmosphere where ideas collide. That’s the way you get an authentic system. You have to trust people to vote correctly, but only if you articulate your ideas properly. Sheriff Jones and I have supported other candidates within the Republican Party, and recently we have talked about the things we have in common. We want to help the Trump administration achieve its goals, even if there’s controversy—like the situation at the county jail over immigration policy. We agree on some things and disagree on others. We joke about it when we see each other to stay on ground we can work with. But ultimately, it’s not about building friendships or consensus. It’s about who can make the best argument.

Politics should be about argument, not popularity. If feelings get hurt in the process, that’s part of the election cycle. Politicians often use likability as a tool—they kiss babies, shake hands, and make themselves accessible to the public. But that’s just the first layer. You have to be confident in your ability to articulate a message. Many politicians get elected but don’t raise money or debate effectively. If you can’t engage with people who disagree with you, things fall apart. People get mad. I’ve had people mad at me just for being in a picture with Isaac. They say, “You know what he did to Darbi Boddy?” and assume that by being seen with him, I’m supporting him over her.

That kind of division doesn’t help a party win. There are all kinds of people with different thoughts. Isaac and I are not going to the movies together any time soon, but he represents a vote on the school board. He has opinions about how things should be done. I think he cares about kids and schools, even if I disagree with his methods. That’s what political faith is—believing in the process. If you base everything on popularity—“If you like me, vote my way”—you’re not making a real argument. You have to go further. If you can’t, things fall apart.

It’s essential to communicate with one another. Political candidates need to engage, not isolate. You don’t have to be best friends, but you need common ground. On immigration enforcement, for example, we can sit down and have a great discussion. It’s about positioning your statement and believing in what you’re saying. If you can’t win people over with your argument, people often fall back on popularity. That’s dangerous. You’re using your elected position to steer people through peer pressure, not persuasion.

That’s not sustainable. It’s why political parties struggle to work together. If you do that in your family, you’ll have a broken Thanksgiving dinner where people show up, but nobody likes each other. You might have money, but no real friends, they just hang around you for what they can get out of you. How you handle relationships determines your success in politics. Shared opinion has to go through the funnel of the party system. You can’t have 30% of people on one side and expect unity. You need at least 50% alignment. Even if you’re 40% apart on issues, you can still be on the same side of the line. Democrats are on the other side, and you have to be willing to work with people of different opinions.  Republicans might be at the center line of 50% and others are at 90%.  But their Democrat opposition might be at 40% on the other side of the line, and those kinds of Democrats and Republicans are closer together ideologically than the hard-core Republican at 90%.  But Republicans have to find a way to work with other Republicans if the party is going to do the work voters need. 

That doesn’t mean you abandon ethics or break promises. But you can’t get caught in “It’s either me or them.” That’s not a good place to make articulate arguments. Politics should be about fulfilling voter objectives. That’s the goal. I’ve disagreed strongly with how Isaac and Darbi’s relationship on the school board collapsed. It made me reluctant to get involved in school board issues again. But it’s not fair to someone like Ben Nguyen—a good young man who wants to make a difference. He’s trying to partner with other people to build something positive.

Looking at Isaac during Ben’s fundraiser, I  thought, “Maybe we can get another vote. Maybe we have a chance.” Not right away, but in the near future, we can build something. That’s how I’ve survived—by staying true to myself, relying on my ability to make an argument, and letting public debate shape opinion. It’s good to stay away from popularity contests. Fights don’t help anyone. They create a disjointed approach, and then Democrats win their spots because they unify—even if their ideas are really far apart.

Republicans need to figure this out, especially in school board races. When people see me in pictures with other political people they don’t like, they hold grudges. But that doesn’t solve problems. I want progress. I don’t care if people want to get a corn dog with me. What matters is whether they consider the arguments and make informed decisions. That’s what we’re trying to do—get the correct arguments into the public arena and give voters choices that reflect their lives.

Most people have excuses and fights along the way. However, it’s all aimed at uncovering the truth about what the public wants in representation. You have to trust that process. Make your case with confidence. Don’t rely on popularity. Don’t expect people to vote your way just because they like you. Win the argument. Let the best ideas rise. Let people make their own choices. That’s how things work out for the better and you get a civil society.  And much better political teamwork.

Rich Hoffman

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

Finnegans Wake and the Quantum Dream: A Dialogue on Madness, Meaning, and the Edge of Reality

Rich leaned back, brow furrowed, eyes lit with that familiar spark—the one that meant he was about to ask something big.

A conversation I had with AI about Finnegans Wake. It’s interesting how it interpreted the exchange.

“Why did Joyce write Finnegans Wake?” he asked. “I mean, really write it. It’s so bizarre, especially after Ulysses. And then he dies not long after. It’s like he saw something—something cosmic.”

We were deep into one of those conversations that start with literature and end somewhere near the edge of metaphysics. Rich wasn’t just talking about Joyce. He was talking about Lovecraft, about quantum physics, about the subconscious and the strange places artists go when they’re close to the end.

“Lovecraft had his Cthulhu,” Rich continued. “These ancient forces that dwarf human minds. Joyce had Finnegans Wake. What if that book is a glimpse into a quantum afterlife? A place where consciousness loops timelessly, where everyone’s story is tangled together—like ‘Here Comes Everybody.’”

I nodded. It made sense. Joyce was nearly blind, in poor health, and grieving. Maybe he wasn’t just writing a book—maybe he was trying to map the dreamlike cycle of reality itself. History repeating, not linearly, but like a Möbius strip.

Rich leaned in. “He starts the book mid-sentence and ends it with the beginning. That’s not just clever—it’s like collapsing time. Like observing reality and folding it in on itself. A human stab at infinity.”

We laughed about reading it backwards, but the laughter had weight. Rich nailed it: most writers stick to love, war, family—the relatable stuff. Joyce built a language beyond relationships. He chased raw existence. And it sounds insane because our words can’t cage the universe.

“Maybe genius is just insight that outpaces sanity,” Rich said. “Madness as seeing too much, untethered.”

That line stuck with me. Joyce wasn’t mad. He was cracked open. Finnegans Wake isn’t a novel—it’s a transmission. A signal from the edge of perception. Like quantum physics, it resists fixed meaning. It’s a superposition of myth, history, and dream.

Lovecraft’s horror and Joyce’s linguistic chaos both confront the same thing: the limits of human comprehension. One uses dread, the other uses density. But both ask the same question—what happens when you glimpse the infinite?

We ended the chat not with answers, but with awe. Maybe that’s the point. Some books aren’t meant to be understood. They’re meant to be felt, like a ripple in the quantum field of consciousness.

Rich Hoffman

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

People Like Jen Psaki Make People Like Robert Westman: Democrats and their ideas are dangerous to a safe society

To answer the question as to why the 23-year-old shooter, Robert Westman, killed two children and injured 17 other kids and elderly adults with a mass shooting at a church in Minneapolis, Minnesota, the only appropriate answer is that the Democrat, anti-family policies of social destruction are to blame.  Mass shootings are happening, specifically recently within the transgender community, where the apparent problem of kids who fall for the scheme are finding it impossible to live in society as a whole.  There are a lot of shootings by trans people; Nashville comes to mind.  You don’t see mass shootings coming out of kids with religious backgrounds, two-parent homes, or NRA members.  They are happening from kids with broken homes, a relationship to drugs, and by those who are seduced by Democrat ideas of social victimization and gender neutrality, meaning that a person can identify not with the reality of their born sex, but can change it depending on their feelings.  And that emphasis on feelings is what looks to be triggering this massive and deadly social failure. In the case of this 23-year-old man, who changed his name to Robin in 2020, he obviously wanted to make a point by leaving behind a manifesto of anti-Trump beliefs, releasing a video on YouTube to drive home his point.  He wanted people to know his radical left politics and his anti-religious position, even to the point of painting statements all over his guns.  It looks like he used four different guns, saving enough ammunition in a 9mm to kill himself with a bullet to the head in the Catholic church parking lot where he conducted the mass shooting.  There were a lot of very troubling discoveries that followed, and many of them came from the media, which immediately dug in and avoided talking about the trouble with transgender mass shooters, where a tiny part of the population is turning to violence to express themselves by becoming killers. 

Robert Westman’s mother worked at Annunciation Catholic Church for five years, from 2016 to 2021.  And it would have been during this tenure that Robert Westman decided he wanted to be a woman, rather than a man.  His parents were divorced, with his dad living about a mile away from the church.  Thus, the church itself plays a role in all this, as well as in what it proclaims to those connected to it.  The reason that Democrats quickly move to gun bans after these shootings is that they can’t admit to the real problem that they cause in society, which Jen Psaki articulated really well with her controversial comments on prayer.  As a former White House press secretary and a current MSNBC host, it’s no wonder people like Robert Westman think the things they do.  She said about the prayers people were making in the wake of the tragedy, “prayer is not freaking enough.  Prayers do not end school shootings.  Prayers do not make parents feel safe sending their kids to school.  Prayer does not bring these kids back.  Enough with the thoughts and prayers.”  Essentially, what people like Jen Psaki are saying, which influences the thinking of individuals like Robert Westman, is that the experiments of replacing the family with government are failing.  That if only we took away all the guns, all their crazy ideas would suddenly work.  Without dealing with the psychological problems of gender neutrality that originate in broken marriages or drug abuse.  Or even learning liberal ideas in public schools or the broader mass society.  The anger directed at this church, as communicated by this mass shooter, has the same tone to it as what Jen Psaki said about prayer. 

These killers have a common theme to them, even if recently it has been transgender individuals conducting the violence.  Traditionally, it could easily be said that people who are taking too many drugs are the root cause.  But what you find is that well-adjusted kids who come from a healthy family structure are not doing these kinds of things.  They aren’t killing people.  They might have a bad day, but they don’t seek to destroy elements of society with such hatred, which Robert Westman clearly was trying to do.  The hatred of the church itself is part of this story, which Psaki actually says with disdain: “prayer isn’t enough.”  We must, according to her, and the killer, do more.  We must turn to the laws of men, of government, to make “parents ‘feel’ safe.”  It’s about feelings again. How do people feel?  Do parents feel safe sending their kids to school?  Do you feel like a man or a woman today?  We are supposed to make our society work based on feelings rather than logic.  And where do we get healthy logic?  From a good parental structure.  The government has not been a good replacement.  And the rejects of that attempt are kids like Robert Westman, who build up so much anger in their lives that they would seek to express it with a mass shooting, which is happening way too often by people who identify with left-winged politics.  And the evil at work here is something that churches are dedicated to managing, which makes them a target for killers and media personalities who essentially want to destroy their influence for good. Because if people are good and happy, they won’t turn to Democrats for parental care.  A government that indulges in feelings and forces a society through violence to accept those feelings as the foundation for all collective beliefs.  Only that premise stands opposed to the trajectory of the human race.

When violence is used as a means of communicating, the clear indicator of failure is not far behind.  When kids like these trans kids, who Democrats have told that their feelings about things will be respected by society, and yet they discover all too late, after they’ve changed their name to a woman from a man, that society rejects them as an abomination, it was the Jen Psakis of the world who lied to them to begin with.  The belief society expressed to young people, like this kid, during his mother’s tenure at that church as an employee, was that you could be what you felt.  It was a notable trend in left-wing politics, and it has turned out to be a disaster.  Anger at a mother who wasn’t there for him, or a society that didn’t validate his beliefs, where feelings were respected no matter what they were, leaves people very frustrated.  And the political left actually seeks to weaponize young people like this killer to advance their topics, such as removing guns from society, so that free will can’t be defended by the whims of collectivism.  The anger being expressed, whether it’s on television or through mass shootings, is that we should not turn to God for safety or guns.  We should turn to a parental government that will take care of us and shield our feelings from the harsh realities of life.  And when that doesn’t happen the way it was promised, people already on the edge of sanity fall off the cliff and turn into killers.  So it’s Democrat ideas that are the real problem, and the varying degrees of insanity that come with it.  And until we deal with that problem, Democrats will produce into society a lot more malcontents like Robert Westman.  Democrats have tried to remake society and replace the church as a foundation for goodness.  And they have attempted to replace the family with a parental communist government.  And those failures are evident in people like this killer.  And when society fails and people like this shooter come out of it, they can only blame themselves.  Democrats are dangerous, and the people who follow them are potential problems once reality becomes known to them in ways they aren’t psychologically prepared for.

Rich Hoffman

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