Category: Mystery

School levies Fail all over Ohio: Only 24 measures passed while 42 failed, showing voter fatigue in funding democrat driven free babysitting services

The recent primary election held on May 5, 2026, in Ohio sent a clear signal regarding public education funding. Voters statewide faced 66 local school district proposals for new or renewed property and income tax levies to support K-12 operations. Only 24 measures passed, representing approximately 36 percent approval, while 42 failed. This outcome marked a sharp decline from prior cycles, where passage rates had reached 52 percent in May 2024 and 64 percent in May 2025. Districts across Northeast Ohio, Southwest Ohio, and other regions—including Parma City, Streetsboro City, Fairfield City, Strongsville, and Plain Local—witnessed their requests for additional revenue rejected, often by substantial margins. In Parma City Schools, for instance, an income tax levy failed by nearly 20 percentage points, marking yet another setback for a district that had not secured new funding since 2011. Streetsboro City Schools saw its third consecutive levy attempt collapse despite warnings of cuts to junior varsity sports and arts programs. These results were not isolated but reflected widespread voter fatigue with repeated tax increases amid stagnant academic performance and rising household costs. 

The pattern encompassed both new levies and renewals, though new revenue requests fared particularly poorly. Only about 24 percent of new levies succeeded, compared to 75 percent of renewals. In Southwest Ohio, Mt. Healthy City Schools secured passage on its fourth attempt in two years after earlier defeats, while Xenia Community Schools renewed a permanent improvement levy narrowly. Fairfield City Schools, however, saw a proposed 1.25 percent earned income tax rejected as expenses continued to outpace revenue projections. Similar defeats occurred in central and northern districts, including Pickerington Local, where an income tax initiative failed decisively. Analysts pointed to economic pressures—rising property values, inflation, and concerns over gas prices near $5 per gallon—as key factors. Low primary turnout, typically advantageous for organized supporters such as teachers’ unions and families reliant on district services, did not deliver the anticipated edge. Instead, sufficient opposition materialized to block most proposals, indicating a potential shift in community tolerance for the existing funding model. 

This voter resistance appeared most pronounced in larger suburban systems such as Lakota Local Schools in Butler County, north of Cincinnati. Serving roughly 17,000 students, Lakota pursued significant funding measures in prior cycles. In November 2025, voters rejected a proposed $506 million bond and permanent improvement levy—the largest such request in state history at the time—intended for facilities upgrades. Despite operating levies stretching back to 2013 and strong cash reserves built through consecutive balanced budgets, the district faced scrutiny over escalating costs and outcomes. Annual payrolls remain substantial, with teacher salary schedules reflecting competitive compensation amid a top-heavy administrative structure. Critics highlight that such expenditures have not translated into uniformly strong graduate preparedness, as many students require remediation upon entering college or the workforce. 

A notable counterpoint within Lakota emerged through Benjamin Nguyen, a 2025 graduate of Lakota West High School. At age 18, Nguyen became one of Ohio’s youngest elected officials when voters selected him for the school board in November 2025. Now a freshman at Miami University studying public administration, he serves as a student-centered voice emphasizing fiscal accountability, parental engagement, and practical skill-building. His contributions, including advocacy for restoring public comment periods at board meetings, demonstrate how strong family support and personal initiative can yield high achievement even in a system viewed by many as flawed. Nguyen’s election and collaborative approach—working across ideological lines on the five-member board—stand out amid broader challenges. Yet his success represents an outlier rather than the standard. Data indicate that family structure, including stable two-parent households and home reinforcement of core skills, explains far more variation in long-term outcomes than incremental school spending alone. 

At the national level, local rejections in Ohio align with persistent disconnects between investment and results. Public school current spending per pupil reached $17,619 in fiscal year 2024, a 6.6 percent increase from $16,526 the prior year. Total K-12 expenditures exceeded $981 billion nationwide, with personnel costs—salaries and benefits—accounting for the majority of budgets. Despite this, National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) results reveal stagnation or decline. In recent assessments, only about 31 percent of fourth-graders achieved proficiency in reading, with eighth-grade figures similarly lagging. Mathematics proficiency hovered around 40 percent for fourth-graders, while twelfth-grade scores hit record lows in basic categories. These trends persist even as per-pupil spending ranks among the highest globally when adjusted for purchasing power. In Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) comparisons, the United States outspends most developed nations per student yet underperforms in international benchmarks such as PISA. 

Large urban districts illustrate the gap vividly. In five major cities, combined per-pupil spending—including all funding sources—averaged $26,578 in recent years, 50 percent above the national figure. Federal contributions alone averaged $13,116 per student in these systems. Yet hundreds of thousands of eighth-graders scored below basic proficiency in math and reading on NAEP, with performance worse in 2024 than in 2003 for several subgroups. Teacher compensation nationally averages around $74,000, higher in major metros, yet unions have channeled substantial resources—over $135 million in recent cycles—toward policies favoring increased funding rather than structural changes. This dynamic has fueled perceptions that additional resources primarily sustain existing structures without driving measurable gains in literacy, numeracy, or civic knowledge. 

The philosophical roots of these challenges trace to early 20th-century reforms. John Dewey and progressive educators shifted emphasis from classical content mastery—reading, mathematics, history, and philosophy—toward socialization, experiential learning, and preparation for democratic participation. Dewey’s framework in works such as “Democracy and Education” prioritized habit formation and social cooperation, incorporating elements that viewed schools as vehicles for societal transformation. While not explicitly ideological in a partisan sense, this approach embedded priorities of group dynamics and cultural adaptation over rigorous academic drills. Subsequent influences through teacher preparation and policy embedded themes of emotional development and contemporary social issues, sometimes at the expense of phonics-based literacy, procedural math fluency, and factual civic instruction. Observers note that many graduates emerge with pronounced views on current affairs but gaps in practical sciences, financial literacy, and constitutional principles. 

Centralized federal oversight exacerbates inefficiencies. The U.S. Department of Education, created in 1979, administers roughly $2,500 per pupil in federal aid accompanied by compliance mandates, reporting burdens, and grant incentives that favor established interests. Total federal spending on education since 1979 exceeds $3 trillion, yet outcomes have remained flat or declined in key areas. Proposals in 2026 to trim administrative layers and devolve authority reflect frustration with a bureaucracy focused on regulation rather than classroom results. Historical initiatives such as No Child Left Behind and Common Core yielded limited or mixed improvements, further eroding public trust. In red states like Ohio, voters increasingly view property tax mechanisms as tools for wealth redistribution that fund ideological priorities rather than core competencies. 

Reliance on property taxes as the primary local revenue source compounds taxpayer discontent. In Ohio and similar states, this ties school funding to home values, incentivizing districts to expand operations without proportional efficiency gains. Homeowners without school-age children, retirees, and empty-nesters subsidize systems that many perceive as delivering diminishing returns. Dual-income families may appreciate schools as childcare, yet growing numbers question indefinite support for outcomes that include workforce unreadiness and, in some cases, political socialization misaligned with family values. The 2026 primary defeats suggest this model has reached a breaking point. Districts attempting to place levies on low-turnout ballots encountered organized resistance, as seen in the broad rejections across 42 measures. 

Reform advocates increasingly emphasize school choice as an alternative. Programs attaching funding to individual students rather than geographic zip codes introduce competition and accountability. Ohio’s EdChoice Scholarship initiative offers evidence: participants showed higher college enrollment and bachelor’s degree attainment rates, particularly among low-income, male, and Black students. Longitudinal studies indicate that 27 of 30 empirical analyses of choice programs document academic gains for participants or competitive improvements in traditional schools, with no negative effects identified. Public districts facing enrollment pressure have responded with modest performance gains, suggesting spillover benefits. Such mechanisms encourage cost control—reducing administrative overhead, negotiating sustainable compensation, and prioritizing proven instruction over extraneous or ideological initiatives. 

In districts like Lakota, where facilities plans and operating levies recur despite voter input, student-centered funding would compel innovation. Parents could select providers based on results, fostering environments where high-achieving students like Nguyen become the norm rather than exceptions supported primarily by external family strengths. Payroll adjustments, including limits on union-driven legal expenses and emphasis on merit-based advancement, could realign incentives. Broader fiscal realities reinforce the case: escalating education costs crowd out other priorities and private investment. Property tax revolts, now evident at the ballot box, echo historical taxpayer pushback. With national debt burdens and competing demands, indefinite funding increases without accountability prove unsustainable. 

Public education’s foundational promise—to impart literacy, numeracy, and civic competence—has been overshadowed by a system that, in many instances, generates remediation needs, ideological conformity, and workforce unpreparedness. Evidence from Ohio’s 2026 primaries, national proficiency data, and international benchmarks demonstrates that fundamental change is required. The model inherited from progressive reformers and expanded through centralized bureaucracy no longer commands broad consent. Voters signal exhaustion with outcomes that fail to deliver reading proficiency, mathematical competence, or philosophical grounding. Strong families remain the most reliable predictor of success, yet schools should complement rather than undermine them. Attaching resources directly to children, promoting competition via choice, and refocusing on core academics provide a viable path. Until these reforms advance, districts will confront repeated levy defeats, taxpayers will withhold approval, and successive generations will inherit the costs of a system that prioritizes institutional preservation over excellence. Decentralization, parental empowerment, and outcome-based accountability represent not merely preferable options but essential directions if education is to fulfill its democratic and economic functions in coming decades.

Additional layers of data underscore the urgency. Enrollment trends show declining birth rates and out-migration in some Ohio communities, yet per-pupil costs continue rising due to fixed overhead and contractual obligations. In Lakota, 12 consecutive years of balanced budgets have built reserves exceeding policy minimums, yet repeated levy attempts signal structural pressures. Nationally, the share of students scoring below NAEP basic levels increased post-2019, with low-income eighth-graders faring worse in 2024 than in 2003 across multiple subjects. Big-city districts spending $26,000-plus per pupil still report fewer than one-third of students at basic proficiency, highlighting inefficiencies unrelated to raw funding levels. Teachers’ unions, while advocating for members, have opposed many choice expansions and accountability measures, directing political spending toward aligned candidates. These patterns suggest that without competitive pressure, cost-per-pupil reductions—through streamlined administration, negotiated contracts, and merit-focused staffing—will remain elusive.

Historical context further illuminates the trajectory. Progressive education’s emphasis on socialization aligned with broader societal shifts toward centralized planning in the mid-20th century. Dewey’s influence permeated normal schools and curriculum frameworks, embedding experiential and cooperative learning as ideals. Subsequent federal expansions post-1965 and the 1979 Department of Education creation layered regulatory complexity atop local systems. Results have been underwhelming: inflation-adjusted per-pupil spending has risen over 245 percent since the department’s founding, yet scores have flatlined or declined in key metrics. International comparisons reinforce the point: nations spending less per student often outperform the United States through focused curricula and cultural emphasis on academic rigor.

School choice programs nationwide provide a natural experiment. Voucher and education savings account initiatives in states like Florida, Arizona, and Ohio demonstrate improved outcomes for participants and competitive pressure on traditional districts. Urban Institute analyses of Ohio EdChoice participants found 32 percent higher college enrollment rates and 60 percent higher bachelor’s attainment compared to matched public school peers. Competitive effects lifted nearby traditional schools modestly. These findings align with broader meta-analyses showing consistent positive or neutral impacts. In Ohio, expanding such mechanisms could address enrollment assumptions tied to residential ZIP codes, forcing districts to earn families through results rather than geographic monopoly.

Taxpayer perspectives have evolved. Property tax burdens have climbed with home values, often exceeding $7,000 annually in affluent suburbs like Lakota. Families with grown children or no children increasingly question subsidizing systems perceived as misaligned with their values. Dual-income households may value convenience, yet retirees and working-class voters express fatigue with funding outcomes that include low civic literacy and workforce readiness gaps. The 2026 primary rejections—particularly of new levies—indicate this sentiment has translated into electoral action. Districts planning return visits to the ballot in August or November face heightened opposition, as organized groups and informed voters mobilize against low-turnout strategies.

Practical reforms could include payroll moderation, administrative efficiencies, and curriculum refocus. In Lakota, where teacher schedules reflect annual cost-of-living adjustments near 2 percent and multi-year increments, total compensation packages—including benefits—contribute to high per-pupil figures. Reducing legal expenditures tied to union negotiations and emphasizing core instruction could free resources. Restoring public comment periods, as Nguyen supported, enhances transparency and accountability. Broader state-level changes, such as attaching funds to students and eliminating ZIP code monopolies, would incentivize districts to compete on quality, safety, and results rather than assume enrollment.

The economic case for restructuring is compelling. Education spending approaching $1 trillion nationally crowds out infrastructure, defense, and private-sector growth. Unsustainable property tax reliance distorts housing markets and burdens fixed-income residents. Voter signals in Ohio and elsewhere suggest willingness to support effective models but rejection of perpetual escalation without improvement. Family-centric approaches—stable homes reinforcing values, reading, and discipline—complement any system. Public education must earn value through demonstrable outcomes rather than mandate support via taxation.

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

Bullwhips: Why they are associated with everything I do

I have been asked for years why whips appear in my videos, my sites, and my personal iconography. For those who have known me longest, the question usually comes with a knowing smile, as if recalling an old shared joke. For newer acquaintances—those who discover my work through a podcast appearance, a cultural commentary piece, or a passing mention in wider discourse—the question carries genuine curiosity, sometimes even mild bewilderment. They wonder what such an archaic object could mean in modern life. The answer is straightforward, yet layered: the whip has never represented bravado or a hunger for conflict. It has always stood for preparation, symbolism, discipline, and the quiet refusal to hand over one’s agency to fear.

My fascination began in childhood, not with rebellion or spectacle, but with stories of individuals who met intimidation with composure. I devoured classic adventure cinema and serialized tales—black-and-white films flickering on late-night television, Republic Pictures serials with their cliffhanger tension, Westerns where lone figures upheld a code amid chaos. Zorro, in particular, captured me. He moved with elegance and precision, masked not to evade accountability but to shoulder it fully. He confronted tyranny without mirroring its cruelty, using wit and skill as extensions of moral clarity. Those stories planted a seed: justice need not seek permission from the powerful; it could arise from personal conviction and disciplined action.

That abstract pull found concrete grounding in family history. My grandfather and great-grandfather were practical men who worked the land in rural Kentucky. Whips were tools for them—extensions of the hand for guiding livestock, clearing brush, or managing distance with precision. As a boy, I watched them with wide-eyed reverence. I remember the dry Kentucky air thick with the scent of earth and hay, the faint creak of leather, and then the sharp, clean crack that split the stillness. One vivid memory remains etched: my great-grandfather, calm as still water, snapping a fly clean off the weathered side of a shed without disturbing the wood. There was no anger in the motion, no theatrical flourish. Only years of practiced focus, an intimate understanding of leverage, timing, and the physics of energy traveling down a braided length. The whip became, in that moment, a lesson in mastery—not domination, but harmony with consequence. Every crack carried immediate feedback. Miss, and you knew it instantly. Succeed, and the satisfaction was private, earned.

Those early impressions shaped more than idle curiosity. As I entered adolescence, schoolyard realities tested abstract ideals. Environments where hierarchies formed through bluster and threat rather than merit were common. I learned quickly that fear functions as currency only when accepted. A bully’s power evaporates the moment their target refuses the transaction. One particular incident stands out—not for drama, but for the internal shift it produced. Cornered by a group testing boundaries, I felt the familiar spike of adrenaline. Yet instead of freezing or fleeing, something from those whip lessons and adventure tales clicked: respond with clarity, not escalation. I stood firm, voice steady, eyes level. The moment passed without violence, but the realization endured. Intimidation relies on your participation. Withdraw consent, and the dynamic collapses. That lesson traveled with me into adulthood, informing how I navigated professional pressures, public discourse, and personal challenges.

Martial arts deepened this foundation. I immersed myself in disciplines emphasizing structure, balance, footwork, timing, and above all, restraint. Years of training in systems rooted in traditional practice taught that true competence whispers rather than shouts. It waits, patient and prepared. I studied the transfer of force, the economy of motion, and the mental discipline required to remain centered amid chaos. Over time, these elements—family craft, cinematic archetypes, physical training—wove into a cohesive personal philosophy. It was never about inventing novelty or seeking attention. It was integration: taking timeless principles and applying them to contemporary existence.

Preparedness, I came to understand, is frequently misconstrued as paranoia or latent aggression. In truth, it cultivates calm. When you have tested your limits through deliberate practice, when you know your capabilities and accept your responsibilities, fear loses its primary lever. You cease knee-jerk emotional reactions and begin responding with reasoned presence. This mindset proved invaluable as I moved into public life. Speaking on cultural matters, challenging assumptions, or simply voicing independent thought invites pressure. Sometimes it arrives as social exclusion, professional repercussions, or relentless psychological framing. The tactic remains consistent: induce retreat without substantive engagement. Fear is efficient because it bypasses debate.

I decided early against living under that shadow. The choice was deliberate, not reckless. Discipline over anxiety. Preparation over denial. Personal responsibility over dependence on external validation or protection. The whip crystallized this decision. Learning it demands patience. The leather does not forgive haste or distraction. Its physics are unforgiving: energy builds along the taper, accelerating to supersonic speed at the tip. One slight error in wrist angle, grip, or follow-through, and the crack becomes a painful self-inflicted lesson. Progress requires ego surrender. Early attempts bring frustration—tangles, weak pops, bruised pride. Each failure teaches humility and attention. Success arrives only after hundreds of repetitions, when mind, body, and tool align in quiet competence.

Psychologically, the whip mirrors broader life patterns. It punishes emotional volatility. Swing in anger, and you lose control. Approach with calm focus, and precision follows. In public discourse, the parallel is striking. A flailing argument scatters energy uselessly. A single, well-timed point—delivered with clarity and restraint—cuts through noise like that supersonic tip. The whip rewards respect for its nature; so does effective communication. Over the years, this symbol has organically attached itself to my work. Friends referenced it with humor. Viewers inquired. Strangers requested demonstrations. “Can you do a trick?” became a common refrain. I often smiled and redirected, preferring substance over performance. Yet maturity brings a willingness to explain the root rather than minimize it.

The deeper essence has never been domination or threat. It centers on deterrence born of inner certainty, moral confidence, and psychological resilience. When others recognize that fear holds no sway, dynamics transform. Posture straightens. Conversations shift from coercion to exchange. Many potential conflicts dissipate before ignition because the foundation for intimidation has been removed. This principle extends beyond physical tools into speech, integrity, and cultural navigation. In an era of digital amplification—where outrage algorithms reward emotional reactivity, where institutional pressures frame dissent as deviance, where social mechanisms attempt to enforce conformity through shame cycles—the response remains consistent: remove fear from the equation. Reclaim agency. Force interactions back into the arena of reason and accountability. Those unable to operate there reveal their own limitations.

Philosophical traditions reinforced what experience taught. Miyamoto Musashi’s The Book of Five Rings spoke to detached clarity amid conflict, the warrior’s mind unclouded by emotion. Sun Tzu emphasized winning before battle through positioning and insight. Jigoro Kano’s judo principles highlighted using an opponent’s force against them while maintaining balance—much like channeling energy precisely through a whip rather than brute resistance. Joseph Campbell’s hero’s journey framed the personal quest: venturing into uncertainty, confronting shadows, returning transformed with hard-won wisdom. These were not abstract texts; they illuminated lived practice. The restrained guardian archetype—Zorro as a modern knight-errant, Fairbanks’ swashbucklers balancing flair with duty—echoed across time. Even historical reflections on justice outside rigid institutions, as explored by thinkers like E.P. Thompson, underscore that moral order sometimes requires personal readiness when systems falter.

At its core, the whip embodies self-control in an age prone to indulgence, responsibility amid widespread excuse-making, and preparedness against currents of denial. It is no relic of aggression but a tangible reminder that discipline precedes freedom. Courage, similarly, is cultivated long before any visible conflict. The hours of solitary practice, the ego-bruising repetitions, the quiet satisfaction of incremental mastery—these build the internal reservoir that sustains through storms.

I have worn many masks across decades: professional, public, private. Beneath them, the values remain constant—discipline, preparedness, restraint, resolve. Sharing this openly now feels right, not for performance or provocation, but for honesty. People today hunger for tangible examples of lived conviction. Abstract ideals fall short of witnessing how principles endure in practice. If articulating this path helps even one person loosen fear’s grip on their decisions, the candor serves a purpose. If it illustrates that justice and clarity begin with personal accountability, all the better.

Looking forward, the legacy I hope to leave transcends any single symbol. It is a quiet demonstration that ordinary individuals can cultivate extraordinary resilience. In daily life—facing workplace coercion, digital pile-ons, familial tensions, or cultural headwinds—the same mindset applies. Assess honestly. Prepare diligently. Respond with measured agency. Teach children through example that mastery arises from repetition and respect, not entitlement. Encourage friends to value inner calibration over external approval. The whip, for me, remains a private compass more than a public prop. Its crack echoes a simpler truth: you are capable of more than fear allows you to believe.

That realization, extended outward, fosters healthier discourse, stronger communities, and freer minds. It asks each of us to examine our own tools of self-mastery—whatever form they take—and wield them with care. In doing so, we honor the lineage of those who came before: the quiet practitioners, the storytellers, the guardians of principle. We pass forward not fear, but freedom earned through discipline.

This path is ongoing. I continue to practice, reflect, and integrate. The whip still rests in my hand from time to time, a tactile link to origins and aspirations. Its lessons endure: precision over power, calm over chaos, responsibility as the truest form of strength.

Bibliography & Further Reading / Viewing

Classic Film & Serial Influences

•  The Mark of Zorro (1920 silent version with Douglas Fairbanks; 1940 sound version with Tyrone Power)

•  Republic Pictures adventure serials (1930s–1940s, including Zorro-themed entries)

•  Douglas Fairbanks Sr. swashbuckler films

•  Don Q, Son of Zorro (1925)

Martial Philosophy & Discipline

•  Miyamoto Musashi, The Book of Five Rings

•  Sun Tzu, The Art of War

•  Jigoro Kano, writings and teachings on Judo discipline and philosophy

•  Dave Grossman, On Combat: The Psychology and Physiology of Deadly Conflict in War and in Peace (for mental preparedness frameworks)

•  Epictetus and Seneca, selected Stoic writings on controlling fear and the internal locus of control

Cultural Symbolism & Justice Archetypes

•  Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces

•  Julius Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World (for traditional archetype context)

•  E. P. Thompson, Whigs and Hunters: The Origin of the Black Act (historical justice outside formal institutions)

Historical Tools & Craft

•  Ron Edwards, How to Make Whips

•  David Morgan, Whips and Whipping

•  Additional craft resources from traditional leatherwork and equestrian traditions

Image & Archive Sources

•  Library of Congress film stills and historical photography archives

•  Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences photo and poster collections

•  Smithsonian Folkways and rural American material culture collections

•  Museum of Western Film History image archives

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.

7 Seconds of Terror: What the bad guys want to do and how to stop them

Watching those grainy surveillance clips from the Washington Hilton on April 25, 2026, is a reminder of how insanity is a persistent threat to the propensity for personal freedom.  Even Mark Hamill, the guy who played Luke Skywalker in the Star Wars movies, was in on this push by the radical Marxist left to kill off those in their way for the destruction of Western civilization itself.  The annual White House Correspondents’ Dinner— that odd, decades-old ritual where journalists, celebrities, politicians, and power brokers cram into the International Ballroom under the pretense of civility—had been humming along as usual. Over 2,600 guests, including President Trump, the First Lady, the Vice President, Cabinet members, and a chunk of the presidential line of succession, all dressed to the nines, trading polite laughs while the country outside kept grinding through its divisions. Then, at roughly 8:36 p.m. Eastern, the illusion shattered in under ten seconds. Gunfire cracked near the security screening area one level above the ballroom. Chaos rippled through the dining hall. Secret Service agents moved like they were trained to: shielding the President, evacuating the principals, and locking down the succession. The rest of us watching from afar didn’t know it yet, but an armed man named Cole Tomas Allen, a 31-year-old teacher and mechanical engineer from Torrance, California, had just sprinted through a metal detector checkpoint, shotgun and .38-caliber handgun in hand, knives strapped on, treating the whole thing like a level in Call of Duty he’d rehearsed in his head for who knows how long. 

I watched the footage from multiple angles—the one that captured him charging from a 90-degree side view made it look lightning-fast, almost cinematic, but the head-on camera told a different story. He looked reckless, almost naïve, the way he barreled straight at that first barrier like the game’s respawn button was waiting. He fired; a Secret Service officer took a shotgun pellet to the chest, but the ballistic vest and the officer’s cell phone absorbed the worst of it. The agent drew, returned fire, and within about seven seconds from the moment Allen hit the checkpoint until he was wrestled down, it was over. No one in the ballroom was hurt. The President and the inner circle were evacuated safely. By any narrow metric, catastrophe was averted. But narrow metrics don’t tell the whole tale, and that’s why I’ve been turning this over in my mind ever since. Why didn’t anyone flag this guy earlier? How did he check into the very hotel hosting the event, spend days scouting access points, and still get that close? And what does it say about the limits of layering more security when the real breakdown is happening in the culture long before anyone reaches for a trigger?

I have experience in personal protection, and I know how these things go. You stand post for hours—sometimes thousands of them—where nothing happens, people are laughing inside the ballroom, you’re thinking about Netflix or grabbing Chinese on the way home to your wife, and then suddenly a figure is sprinting your way with a long gun. Context collapses. Decision time compresses to fractions of a second. That officer who got hit? He reacted fast, drew clean, and did his job. The team neutralized the threat without letting it reach the principals. That’s a positive outcome, even if it wasn’t flawless. But the broader questions linger, and they’re the ones the public is rightly screaming about. How do we prevent the next one without turning every public gathering into a TSA-style gauntlet that makes normal life miserable? Because layering metal detectors, more agents, more dogs, more AI profiling only gets you so far when the problem isn’t just tactical—it’s behavioral, cultural, rooted in how we raise kids, what we feed their minds through screens, and the toxic political rhetoric that lights the fuse.

Take Allen himself. Thirty-one years old, no prior criminal record that’s come out yet, educated—mechanical engineering background, game developer, part-time teacher. He wasn’t some drifter; he was the kind of guy who could blend in, book a room at the Hilton weeks ahead, ride the train cross-country from California, and case the place like it was reconnaissance for a mission. He left a manifesto—over a thousand words—sent to family members just minutes before he charged, calling himself the “Friendly Federal Assassin” and laying out “rules of engagement” for targeting Trump administration officials, prioritized by rank. He wasn’t after random guests or hotel staff, but he was willing to go through them to get there. He referenced his duty, his outrage at policies, the whole grievance cocktail that’s become too familiar in these lone-actor cases. And yes, he had the video-game vibe written all over it: dressed for the occasion, shotgun ready, sprinting the perimeter like he expected the respawn or the cutscene reward. I laughed a little when I first saw the clips—not because it was funny, but because I’ve seen this pattern before with these younger guys who’ve spent years in simulated combat, where death is temporary, and glory is instant. Reality doesn’t work that way. He fell, got tackled, and now faces federal charges: attempt to assassinate the President, interstate transport of firearms with intent to commit a felony, and discharge of a firearm during a crime of violence. Potential life sentence. Good. But the real failure happened upstream, in whatever radicalized him to the point where he thought charging a Secret Service checkpoint was a viable strategy to “change behavior” in American politics.

This isn’t the first time the Hilton has seen this kind of violence. Forty-five years earlier, almost to the month, John Hinckley Jr. waited outside the same hotel after Reagan spoke at a conference and opened fire, wounding the President, his press secretary Jim Brady, a police officer, and a Secret Service agent. Reagan survived, but the parallels hit hard: same venue, same sense of a public ritual turned lethal in seconds. Historically, we’ve had about 18 assassination attempts or plots on U.S. presidents where the attacker got close enough to pose a real physical threat—four successful kills (Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, Kennedy), several woundings (Reagan, Teddy Roosevelt as a former president, Trump himself in 2024 at that Pennsylvania rally), and a litany of foiled plots.  Most attackers have been lone actors driven by personal grievances, mental health struggles, ideological fixations, or some toxic mix. Many left manifestos or rambling notes, just like Allen. In 1835, Andrew Jackson in 1835 beat off an assailant with his cane after both pistols misfired. Gerald Ford survived two attempts in 1975, within weeks of each other. The list goes on, and the pattern is depressingly consistent: security layers get breached because no perimeter is perfect when someone is willing to die for the cause, and the real variable is human behavior on both sides—the attacker’s and the society that produced him.

What’s changed in the modern era is the accelerant: online radicalization, 24/7 political outrage cycles, and entertainment that gamifies violence. I’ve said it before on the show, and I’ll say it again here—kids (and adults who never grew out of it) spend countless hours in first-person shooters where charging a fortified position with a shotgun is a power move, where the AI enemies drop, and you rack up points. Allen wasn’t the first to treat real-world targeting like a mission brief. We’ve seen it in other mass violence cases where perpetrators referenced games explicitly. It’s not the sole cause—plenty of gamers never hurt anyone—but when you combine it with manifestos railing against “the administration,” echo-chamber rhetoric from politicians who’ve flirted with “fight like hell” language or “by any means necessary” vibes and a culture that’s lost its grip on basic moral foundations, you get powder kegs like this. Allen wasn’t some mastermind; he was a product of the times, radicalized enough to cross the country, arm up, and sprint into history. His sister reportedly told investigators he’d made extreme statements before. There were signs, perhaps, but in a free society, we can’t pre-crime every disgruntled soul with an online footprint without shredding the Constitution. That’s the free-speech tension everyone’s yelling about now: should we have been monitoring his posts more aggressively? Should AI have flagged the cross-country trip combined with his hotel booking and known grievances? Maybe. But intrusive surveillance comes with its own costs, and we’ve already seen how that path leads to overreach.

The aftermath has been predictable. The dinner was postponed or scaled back in future planning talks. Congressional briefings are demanded. Reviews launched by the FBI, Secret Service, ATF—screening enhancements, internal movement controls, all the usual post-incident layers. And that’s fine as far as it goes, but I keep coming back to the deeper point: you can’t just secure your way out of a behavior problem. We’ve tried that with airports—TSA pat-downs, body scanners, the whole theater of it—and people grumbled but accepted it after 9/11 because the threat felt existential. Yet even there, determined attackers have slipped through. Here, at a black-tie event meant to celebrate the press and democracy, we don’t want guests feeling groped or stripped down to hear a few jokes. Striking that balance is tough. Secret Service leadership has rightly defended the response: the outer layer was breached, but the inner perimeter held. That’s layered defense working as designed. A former agent I respect called it a “positive outcome, not a successful one”—acknowledging the breach while praising the neutralization. Fair enough. But critics are right too: visible posture in the outer areas, minimal ID checks in a functioning hotel space, complexity of securing mixed public-private venues—all vulnerabilities.

Statistically, these events are rare, but their costs are enormous. The global economic impact of violence hit about $19.97 trillion in 2024 (11.6% of world GDP, or roughly $2,455 per person), with military spending, internal security, and homicide making up the bulk.  In the U.S., post-9/11 terrorism and related conflicts have run into the trillions when you tally direct damages, lost output, heightened security, wars, and long-term health costs for responders and veterans. One study pegged immediate 9/11 losses at $20-60 billion, with broader “terror tax” effects on airlines, insurance, logistics, and GDP drag of 0.1-0.3% annually for years. A single event like this WHCD incident? Immediate costs include the officer’s hospitalization (thankfully brief), massive law enforcement mobilization, hotel lockdowns, event cancellations or rescheduling, and the inevitable bump in protective details. The Secret Service’s FY2025 budget is already $3.2 billion, with over $1.2 billion allocated to protective operations alone—covering not just the President but also former officials, candidates, and major events.  Add in local police overtime, FBI investigations, congressional hearings, and the intangible hit to public confidence, and one botched sprint through a checkpoint can easily run into tens of millions. And that’s before you factor the copycat effect: bad actors worldwide study these videos, learning what worked and what didn’t. Allen’s failure—getting stopped before the ballroom—will inspire some to refine the tactic: faster, better armed, maybe drones or diversions next time. We can’t afford to pretend otherwise.

Side stories often get lost in the headlines, but they matter. Consider the security canine that reportedly reacted to Allen’s presence moments before, but whose handler didn’t intervene in time. Critics pounced: missed signals. Defenders noted the dog pulled, but real-time human judgment in a crowded corridor is messy. Or the crossfire dynamics—agents firing, missing Allen initially, rounds potentially endangering bystanders in a hotel full of civilians. Training scenarios rarely replicate the exact stress of a black-tie crowd with the President yards away. Then there’s the human element on the security side: 20-plus officers on post, but sometimes more bodies can breed diffusion of responsibility—“someone else has got this.” Complacency creeps in during the quiet hours. I’ve been in those shoes; it’s human. That’s why personal foundations—character, vigilance, moral clarity—matter more than extra badges.

Politically, this lands in the third assassination attempt on Trump in recent years (the Butler rally in 2024, the golf course plot, now this). It marks something ugly: political violence isn’t episodic anymore; it’s persistent, compressed, modern. Assassins used to be mentally ill loners with pistols; now they’re often ideologically fueled, manifesto-writing, game-trained actors who see themselves as protagonists in a larger war. Allen wasn’t fighting for “freedom”—he wanted to force behavioral change through terror, echoing 9/11 logic but on a smaller, more personal scale. We can’t surrender to that. We don’t cancel the dinner, hide the President forever, or let radicals dictate how we govern. But neither can we ignore the rhetoric that poisons minds. When leaders on any side joke about or wink at violence—“punching Nazis,” “fight like hell,” late-night host monologues that cross into incitement—it adds fuel. Allen’s irrationality didn’t come from nowhere; it was cultivated. How do we counter radicalization without becoming the thought police? That’s the free-speech tightrope. I favor more armed, responsible citizens as the ultimate backstop—law-abiding people trained to stop threats in progress—because police and Secret Service can’t be everywhere. A well-armed, well-behaved society is the best deterrent—more guns in good hands, fewer in the unstable ones. Enforce existing laws, prosecute threats, but don’t disarm the law-abiding.

Zoom out historically, and the data bears this out. The Violence Project’s presidential attacks database traces these incidents back to 1835, revealing patterns linked to periods of high polarization, economic stress, or cultural upheaval. Many perpetrators had recent life stressors, a fascination with prior attackers, or exposure to violent media. Mental health plays a role, but so does ideology. Post-2026, we’ll see calls for red-flag laws, online monitoring, and more funding for mental health—some good, some overreach. What we really need is a cultural reset: stronger families, communities that prioritize reality testing over fantasy escapism, education that values debate over demonization, and, yes, a recommitment to the Second Amendment as both a right and a responsibility. I hate heavy security personally; I carry, I train, and I want to move freely without feeling like I’m in a police state. But after events like this, the public demands action. The trick is action that targets roots—discouraging the hatred, the loss of touch with reality—rather than just adding layers that make society paranoid and miserable.

Democrats often push the “more control” angle, which I get, but it’s proven that it can’t eliminate the human variable. Republicans emphasize personal agency and armed self-defense, which aligns with my view. Neither side has a monopoly on solutions, but pretending this was just a security lapse misses the forest. Allen planned it academically, almost academically detached from consequences, willing to die to “send a message.” That mindset is the real enemy. We saw similar in the 2024 attempts on Trump: lone actors, manifestos or online trails, grievances against “the system.” Each time, the distance between public ritual and lethal intent shrinks. The Hilton ballroom, once a symbol of Washington pomp, now carries that scar.

Looking ahead, expect tighter protocols: advanced intelligence fusion (AI cross-referencing travel, bookings, and online activity with threat databases), better hotel vetting for high-profile events, and perhaps moving more gatherings to hardened venues like the White House itself or military bases where lockdown is feasible. But that changes the “dance”—the odd ritual of press and power mingling. We need it, warts and all, for transparency and normalcy. The alternative is bunker mentality, and that hands victory to the Allens of the world. Ultimately, more security isn’t just more guards; it’s more people living with their eyes open, ready to act as good Samaritans or armed defenders when the moment demands it. It starts with personal foundations: teach kids reality over fantasy, hold media and politicians accountable for inflammatory language, celebrate responsible gun ownership, and reject the victimhood narratives that breed assassins. We can’t overreact to every threat and make life unlivable, but we can’t underreact either and pretend behavior doesn’t matter.

In the weeks since, I’ve reflected a lot on my own experiences—times I’ve been heavily armed in uncertain environments, the split-second decisions that define protection work. It’s never easy. Those agents weren’t “hoping for two more hours till shift end”; they were professionals doing a thankless job. The public owes them gratitude, not just criticism. Yet we also owe it to ourselves to learn. This incident—seven seconds of terror—reveals the compressed threat environment of 2026 America. Political violence persists because underlying values have frayed. Rebuilding those—family, faith, personal responsibility, civic duty—is the only long-term fix. More layers buy time; better people prevent the need for them.  We solve this at the foundation, or we keep paying the price in blood, treasure, and lost liberty. The ballroom lights are back on, but the warning lingers.

Footnotes

1.  NBC News, CBS News, and DOJ reports on Cole Tomas Allen’s charges and actions, April 2026.

2.  Wikipedia entry on 2026 WHCD shooting and historical parallels to Reagan 1981 at the Hilton.

3.  The Violence Project Presidential Attacks Database (18 incidents tracked).

4.  Institute for Economics and Peace, Economic Impact of Violence 2025 report ($19.97T global figure).

5.  DHS FY2025 Secret Service budget overview ($3.2B total, $1.2B protective).

6.  Joint Economic Committee historical analyses of terrorism costs post-9/11.

7.  NYT, WaPo, and NY Post coverage of Allen’s manifesto and background (teacher/engineer, Cal State/LinkedIn details).

Bibliography for Further Reading

•  U.S. Department of Justice Press Release: “Suspect in White House Correspondents’ Dinner Shooting Charged with Attempt to Assassinate the President,” April 27, 2026.

•  The Violence Project. “Presidential Assassinations Database,” ongoing.

•  Institute for Economics and Peace. “The Economic Impact of Violence,” 2025.

•  Wikipedia. “List of United States Presidential Assassination Attempts and Plots.”

•  U.S. Department of Homeland Security. “U.S. Secret Service Budget Overview,” FY2025.

•  New York Post. “Read WHCD Suspect Cole Allen’s Full Anti-Trump Manifesto,” April 26, 2026.

•  CBS News and NPR profiles on Cole Tomas Allen, April 2026.

•  Joint Economic Committee. “The Economic Costs of Terrorism,” historical studies.

•  Additional sources: NYT visual investigations of WHCD footage; historical accounts from HistoryExtra and Statista on presidential attacks.

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.

Ohio’s Unfinished Economic Reckoning: How Amy Acton’s Lockdowns Created the High-Price Reality Democrats Are Trying to Now Blame on Trump and Vivek Ramaswamy—but the guilt is completely on Lockdown Democrats

In the spring of 2026, Ohio voters are being told a familiar story by the Democratic ticket led by the stringy-haired Amy Acton. High grocery bills, elevated gas prices, stubborn supply-chain bottlenecks, and the everyday squeeze felt by working families and small manufacturers are, according to Acton’s campaign and its surrogates—Mark Elias, David Pepper, and the usual Democratic spokespeople—the direct result of Trump-era policies and the supposed continuation of that agenda under Vivek Ramaswamy. The irony is staggering. The very architect of Ohio’s most disruptive government intervention in modern history—the woman who, as Director of the Ohio Department of Health in 2020, signed the stay-at-home orders that shuttered schools, closed non-essential businesses, and upended millions of lives—is now positioning herself as the solution to the very economic pain her policies created. 

This is not partisan rhetoric. It is a matter of documented cause and effect, visible every day in Ohio’s factories, restaurants, construction sites, and family budgets. The high prices we live with in 2026 are not primarily the fault of tariffs, speculation, or any single administration in Washington. They are the long shadow of a forced economic shock imposed in 2020 by a centralized government decree—one in which Amy Acton played a central role, coordinating with federal health authorities, the CDC, the World Health Organization, and, ultimately, with policies shaped by information flowing from China. The damage was not abstract. It was immediate, structural, and enduring. And while headline statistics have been massaged to suggest recovery, the real economy—especially for midsize manufacturers, small businesses, and working families—never returned to its pre-2019 equilibrium.

To understand why Acton’s record matters now, we must revisit what actually happened in Ohio in the spring of 2020. On March 22, 2020, Acton issued a stay-at-home order effective at 11:59 p.m. that night. Non-essential businesses were closed. Schools shuttered. Gatherings were limited. The order, later extended by Governor Mike DeWine, was not a suggestion; it carried the force of law. Within weeks, Ohio’s unemployment rate exploded from roughly 4.5 percent pre-pandemic to a peak of 16.4 percent in April 2020—the highest level in modern state history. More than 2.1 million unemployment claims were filed that year alone, compared to just 360,000 in all of 2019. Entire sectors—manufacturing, hospitality, transportation, professional services—were suddenly and forcibly interrupted. 

This was not a natural recession triggered by market conditions. Ohio’s economy in early 2020 was not overheating. It was not over-leveraged. It was functioning normally until the government decree flipped the switch. The result was a structural break in continuity that no amount of federal stimulus could fully repair. Over 341,000 non-farm jobs disappeared in a single year—a decline of more than 6 percent. Manufacturing, the backbone of Ohio’s economy, absorbed a particularly brutal blow, losing roughly 480,000 jobs at the height of the crisis. Supply chains that had taken decades to optimize were severed overnight. Relationships between suppliers, customers, and workers were shattered. Skills atrophied. Experience was lost.

Federal relief money flowed in—Ohio ultimately received billions through the CARES Act and subsequent packages, with more than $10 billion in direct grant funding allocated early on and additional ARPA dollars later. That money stabilized household consumption and prevented total collapse on paper. It propped up demand. But it did not rebuild labor pools, restore broken supplier networks, or reverse the loss of institutional knowledge. GDP figures eventually rebounded. On the surface, Ohio appeared to recover. Yet for thousands of private, midsize, and industrial firms—the companies that form the real productive core of the state—the recovery never materialized in the way that matters most. Revenue stabilized in some cases, but labor did not return evenly. Supply chains remained fragile six years later. Many businesses entered a new, permanently altered economic reality from which they have yet to exit. 

Look at the numbers that actually matter on the ground. Manufacturing employment has clawed back toward pre-pandemic levels in headline counts—hovering near 680,000 statewide by late 2025 and into 2026—but the composition is different. Output rose in aggregate, yet headcount remained flat or declined in many subsectors. Productivity gains came not from rebuilding capacity but from automation, consolidation, and doing more with fewer people. Smaller suppliers absorbed shocks they could not pass along. Material inflation, labor shortages, and customer concentration became permanent features. A 2025 survey of Ohio manufacturers found that around 40 percent still cited material costs as a major concern, with tariffs and other factors playing secondary roles. Speculators and opportunistic pricing certainly contributed to some price spikes—gasoline being the most visible example—but the underlying fragility traces directly back to the 2020 rupture. 

Even more telling is the labor force participation rate. Ohio’s rate dropped sharply in 2020 and has never fully recovered. As of March 2026, it stands at approximately 62.1 percent—still roughly 1.3 percentage points below 2019 levels. That gap represents tens of thousands of missing workers. Many retired early. Others shifted to disability. Skilled trades lost experienced hands who never re-entered. The pandemic accelerated trends already underway—remote work, changing employer expectations—but the government-mandated shutdown turned those trends into a structural labor shortage. Employers now pay significantly higher wages without corresponding productivity gains. Chronic hiring difficulties persist. Small and midsize businesses, lacking the scale of large corporations, took the brunt of this hit. 

The human and business-level consequences are visible in every corner of the state. Fast-food restaurants that once operated with long lines and reliable staffing still struggle with chronic understaffing. Supply chains that used to move with just-in-time efficiency now carry permanent buffers, higher costs, and longer lead times. Contracts signed in 2018 or 2019 based on pre-pandemic pricing realities cannot be easily renegotiated in 2024 or 2025 when everything from labor to materials has inflated. Large buyers—Walmart, major distributors, big manufacturers—hold suppliers to those old terms while their own costs have risen. Many smaller firms plateaued at lower output, higher risk, and reduced resilience. Nearly half of the Ohio businesses operating in 2019 were no longer active by 2024. New formations occurred, as they often do after crises, but stimulus checks or reconfigured statistics cannot replace the permanent loss of experience, relationships, and localized capacity. 

This was not mismanagement or an isolated failure. It was a structured shock imposed by the government, and in Ohio, by Amy Acton directly.  The recovery that followed was real on paper but redistributive in practice. Large firms with access to capital, automation, equity markets, and policy cushions emerged stronger. Smaller private companies absorbed transition costs without the same protections. Stimulus prioritized consumption over reconstruction of upstream production capacity. The result is an economy that looks healthier in aggregate GDP and unemployment figures but feels fundamentally different—and more fragile—for the businesses and workers who actually produce goods and services.

Compounding the damage were subsequent policy choices, including repeated minimum-wage adjustments tied to CPI and other labor-market interventions. While intended to help workers, these hikes acted as an artificial price floor that businesses—especially those already reeling from supply-chain disruption—had to absorb by raising consumer prices. In an environment where labor shortages already drove up wages, the added pressure from mandated increases translated directly into higher menu prices, higher retail costs, and thinner margins for the very firms least able to absorb them. Democrats often frame these as acts of compassion, but the economic reality is that they function as another layer of costs passed on to consumers in an economy still recovering from the original government-imposed rupture.

Contrast this track record with the alternative represented by Vivek Ramaswamy. As an entrepreneur who built real companies and created substantial value, Ramaswamy understands from firsthand experience what it takes to navigate supply chains, labor markets, capital allocation, and regulatory hurdles. His platform—aggressive tax cuts (including phasing down the state income tax and meaningful property tax relief), energy independence through expanded natural gas and streamlined permitting, and a laser focus on reducing the regulatory burden—addresses the structural issues that Acton’s policies left behind. Where Democrats offer more stimulus, more government employment, and more wealth redistribution, Ramaswamy offers the conditions for genuine private-sector expansion: lower taxes so families and businesses keep more of what they earn, reduced uncertainty so investment can return, and policies that reward production rather than consumption propped up by printed money. 

The political inversion is almost Orwellian. The same network of Democratic operatives—Mark Elias, David Pepper, and their allies—who have spent years litigating, regulating, and centralizing power now seek to pin the enduring consequences of their own policy choices on the very people who warned against them. They want voters to forget that Acton was the public face of the orders that closed Ohio’s economy. They want voters to ignore the long-term scarring visible in labor participation, small-business survival rates, and fragile supply chains. And they want to portray Vivek Ramaswamy—an outsider who built a billion-dollar value through innovation and discipline—as somehow responsible for prices that trace directly to decisions made in 2020 under Democratic-influenced health policy.

This is not ancient history. The effects are measurable today. Manufacturing survived the shock but did not return to its prior equilibrium. Labor-force participation remains depressed. Supply chains are still adapting. Smaller firms operate with lower resilience. High prices at the grocery store, the gas pump, and the restaurant counter are not mysterious. They are the predictable outcome of a forced shutdown followed by stimulus that prioritized short-term consumption over long-term productive capacity. Government did not merely interrupt Ohio’s economy in 2020—it rewired it. And for many companies, especially private midsize and industrial firms, the 2020 era has never truly ended.

Ohioans deserve better than political amnesia. They deserve leaders who understand that real economic vitality comes from production, not redistribution; from predictable policy, not repeated government shocks; and from accountability, not blame-shifting. Amy Acton’s record as Health Director is not a footnote—it is the central chapter in the story of why so many Ohio families and businesses are still paying the price six years later. Vivek Ramaswamy’s background as a value-creating entrepreneur offers the clearest alternative: a governor who will cut taxes, slash red tape, expand energy production, and restore the conditions under which Ohio businesses and workers can thrive again.

The choice in 2026 is not abstract. It is between continuing the politics that created the problem and embracing the policies that can finally heal the damage. Ohio’s real economy—its factories, its family businesses, its working men and women—has waited long enough for that reckoning.  But when we have to talk about who is responsible for all the misery we are still feeling, there is only one person to blame, and that is Amy Acton, the Lockdown Lady. 

Footnotes

1.  Ohio Department of Job and Family Services, Employment Situation Indicators, various monthly releases 2020–2026.

2.  Bureau of Labor Statistics and Ohio JFS data on unemployment claims and rates, April 2020 peak.

3.  Contemporary reporting on Acton’s stay-at-home order, March 22, 2020 (Ohio Department of Health).

4.  Federal COVID-19 grant funding allocations to Ohio, CARES Act, and subsequent packages (approximately $10 billion+ in early grants).

5.  Ohio manufacturing employment and labor force participation trends, Ohio LMI and FRED data through March 2026.

6.  NFIB and small-business survival analyses post-2020.

7.  Surveys of Ohio manufacturers on material costs and supply-chain issues, 2025.

8.  Vivek Ramaswamy campaign platform materials on tax relief, energy, and regulatory reform.

9.  Additional sourcing from Policy Matters Ohio, the Cleveland Fed, and contemporaneous economic analyses of pandemic impacts.

Bibliography

•  Ohio Department of Job and Family Services. Employment Situation Indicators (monthly releases, 2019–2026).

•  U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics. Labor force, employment, and unemployment data for Ohio.

•  Acton, Amy. Director’s Stay-at-Home Order, Ohio Department of Health, March 22, 2020.

•  Federal COVID relief tracking reports (CARES Act, ARPA allocations to Ohio).

•  NFIB Ohio Small Business Economic Trends reports.

•  Cleveland Federal Reserve District data briefs on supply-chain disruptions.

•  Ramaswamy for the Ohio campaign platform documents.

•  Contemporary news coverage from AP, Signal Ohio, and Ohio LMI publications.

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 Illusion of Media Kingmakers: Why Donald Trump Represents the American Voter, Not Celebrity Endorsers – A Personal Reflection on Fox News, Tucker Carlson, and the Essence of Representative Government

I have long maintained that Fox News performs better when Donald Trump occupies the White House, and recent events have only reinforced that view. The network’s success has never hinged on any single personality but on delivering timely, relevant content to working Americans who tune in after a long day. Yet the story of Tucker Carlson’s rise, departure, and subsequent evolution reveals deeper truths about media power, celebrity egos, and the limits of influence in American politics. As someone who has observed these dynamics closely from Ohio, I have always believed that media tycoons like Rupert Murdoch crave control over the executive branch—and when they cannot exert it, they push back. Trump proved uncontrollable, leading to internal shifts at Fox, including the ousting of Carlson. What followed was a tale of inflated celebrity status untethered from corporate structure, celebrity endorsements during the 2024 campaign, and now, in year two of the Trump administration, profound regret over foreign policy, particularly the Israel-Iran conflict. 

To understand this fully, we must start with a background on Fox News itself. Launched in 1996 by Rupert Murdoch and Roger Ailes, Fox News Channel revolutionized cable news by targeting an underserved audience: conservative viewers seeking alternatives to what they perceived as liberal bias in mainstream networks. Bill O’Reilly’s The O’Reilly Factor, which debuted in 1996 and dominated the 8 p.m. slot for decades, epitomized this model. O’Reilly drew massive audiences—often exceeding three million viewers nightly—by blending straight reporting with opinionated commentary that resonated with working-class Republicans who returned home from jobs around 6 or 7 p.m., ate dinner, and wanted a digest of the day’s events. His show was not just entertainment; it was appointment viewing for an audience that worked hard during the day and valued straightforward analysis without the corporate polish of other networks. 

I always respected O’Reilly’s style, even if I did not agree with every nuance. When Tucker Carlson assumed the 8 p.m. slot in 2017 following O’Reilly’s departure amid sexual harassment allegations, many wondered if the audience would follow. Carlson had been a frequent contributor to The O’Reilly Factor, bringing a sharper, more polemical edge honed from his time at CNN and MSNBC. His show quickly captured the same demographic, maintaining strong ratings—averaging around 3.2 million viewers in early 2023—by focusing on cultural issues, immigration, and skepticism of establishment narratives. Jesse Watters, who later inherited the slot, has done a solid job continuing that tradition, often drawing competitive numbers, though initial post-Carlson viewership dipped slightly as loyalists adjusted. The point remains: Fox’s success stemmed from understanding its audience’s schedule and delivering content they craved at the precise hour they could consume it, not from any individual star’s charisma alone. 

Rupert Murdoch, the media mogul often misspoken as “Myrtle” in casual conversation but known to all as the force behind News Corp and Fox, has had a complex, transactional relationship with Donald Trump that has spanned decades. Back in the 1970s and 1980s, as Murdoch built his American empire with the New York Post, Trump was a brash New York real estate developer who fed scoops to the tabloid’s Page Six. Their alliance was mutually beneficial: Trump gained publicity, Murdoch gained insider access. Yet tensions arose when Trump ran for president in 2015-2016. Murdoch initially viewed him skeptically as a “phony” and publicly criticized his immigration stance. Once Trump won, however, the relationship deepened; they spoke frequently, and Fox became a platform amplifying Trump’s message. Still, Murdoch’s empire has always prioritized control. When Trump proved resistant to influence—particularly during his first term and after the 2020 election—frictions emerged. Murdoch reportedly wanted Trump sidelined as a “nonperson” after January 6, 2021, and backed alternatives like Ron DeSantis in the 2024 primaries. The Murdoch family’s discomfort with uncontrollable figures like Trump led to strategic moves at the network. 

Carlson’s departure from Fox in April 2023 exemplified this dynamic. Officially announced as a mutual parting, the reality involved deeper issues tied to the Dominion Voting Systems lawsuit, in which Fox settled for $787.5 million over 2020 election coverage. Internal texts revealed Carlson’s private frustrations and inflammatory language, alienating executives. Critics inside Fox described him as having grown “too big for his boots,” with racially charged comments and misogynistic undertones surfacing in discovery. Murdoch himself reportedly ordered the firing, viewing Carlson’s toxicity as a liability amid mounting legal and reputational risks. I always thought Carlson did a decent job as a reporter—grounded enough to challenge narratives effectively—but he was never as consistently anchored as O’Reilly. His style appealed to the same audience, yet the corporate structure eventually constrained him. 

Once freed from Fox, Carlson found a massive platform on X (formerly Twitter), bolstered by support from Elon Musk and others. Celebrity status untethered from corporate oversight can be intoxicating. I have observed this pattern repeatedly: individuals discover fame independent of the old guard, and their heads swell. Carlson’s post-Fox trajectory followed this path. He campaigned vigorously for Trump in 2024, headlining events, interviewing the candidate, and even influencing discussions about the VP selection, including J.D. Vance. Many Democrats and independents joined the “Trump bandwagon” too—Joe Rogan, Alex Jones, and others—uniting behind a shared vision. I was invited to several VIP package events in Ohio where Carlson was set to headline during the election cycle. These were high-profile gatherings with figures like Bernie Moreno and J.D. Vance, promising networking and insight. As someone deeply involved in Ohio politics and conservative circles, I enjoy such environments. Yet I declined. My calendar was full, but more importantly, I sensed something off with Carlson—a growing ego, a detachment from the grassroots he once claimed to represent. I had a feeling this might eventually reveal itself, and it has. 

In the 2024 election, Trump secured victory with approximately 73.5 million popular votes and 312 electoral votes, compared with Kamala Harris’s roughly 69 million popular votes. Turnout was solid but lower than 2020 in many areas, with Trump maintaining or slightly improving margins in key demographics. Claims of widespread fraud persisted on both sides post-election, echoing 2020 debates, but the results held under scrutiny in states with voter ID requirements and robust audits. I have long argued that election integrity matters profoundly; where voter ID is absent, or mail-in processes lack safeguards, problems arise—as seen in 2020. Yet the core truth is this: Trump did not win because of celebrity endorsements. Tucker Carlson, Elon Musk, Joe Rogan, or any podcaster did not deliver the one or two percentage points that carried him across the finish line. Voters did. Trump positioned himself as their representative—listening, adapting, and embodying frustrations with the status quo. Without any of those high-profile backers, the numbers would not have changed meaningfully. People vote for whoever they believe represents them, not for whoever a media figure tells them to support. 

This brings us to the present, year two of the second Trump administration. Carlson has fallen dramatically out of alignment with the Trump agenda, particularly over U.S. involvement in the Israel-Iran conflict. He has publicly expressed regret for campaigning for Trump, apologizing on his podcast for “misleading people” and admitting he will be “tormented” by his role. He has accused Trump of becoming a “slave” to Israel, claiming external pressures from donors and influencers pushed the administration into war despite America First promises. Carlson argues the conflict serves Israeli interests over American ones, a stance that has alienated him from many former supporters. I find this preposterous and ego-driven. No single commentator, no matter how influential on X or in podcasts, possesses the power to “make” a president or dictate foreign policy outcomes. Carlson never had that kind of sway at Fox, nor does he now. His regret stems from a fantasy that his endorsement was pivotal—when, in reality, it was the voters who chose Trump as their representative. 

I have seen this celebrity bubble up close. During the campaign, many high-profile figures climbed aboard the Trump train after initial skepticism. Musk poured resources and personal endorsement into the effort; Rogan hosted landmark interviews. It was a unifying moment for the right and some disaffected left-leaning voices. Yet as I have written in my own work, including The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, true leadership and strategy come from understanding systems, not inflating personal myths. Trump adapted to the people’s will—he listened to their concerns on the economy, borders, and cultural erosion. If elections were held again today under fair conditions (no Covid-era irregularities, full voter ID enforcement), the outcome would likely mirror 2024. Democrats traded Biden for Harris, knowing the 2020 fraud playbook could not be replicated without backlash. People ultimately vote for their representative, not the podcast host’s narrative.

The hard lesson for Carlson—and anyone tempted by similar hubris—is that loyalty to the movement and its representative endures. Trump voters are not abandoning him over foreign policy disagreements; they see the bigger picture of domestic priorities. Fox News knew this audience intimately: Republicans who clock in early, work hard, and catch news at 8 p.m. after dinner and a shower. The network thrived by reliably filling that slot, whether with O’Reilly, Carlson, or now Watters. When Fox pushed Carlson amid tensions with Trump and the Murdoch family’s unease, a segment of the audience followed him to X, but that loyalty fractured when he turned against the agenda voters had endorsed. Rebels who break from the core movement find themselves on the outside looking in.

This is not unique to Carlson. Media personalities often overestimate their role. I did not attend those Ohio events, not out of disdain but intuition: something in Carlson’s independence felt unmoored, destined to clash with the representative nature of Trump’s coalition. I have met Vance, Moreno, and others in collaborative settings focused on political tasks, and those environments succeed because they prioritize the people’s will over individual egos. Tucker’s current path—anti-Trump rhetoric on Iran—illustrates the peril of believing one “made” the president. It is preposterous, ego-driven, and disconnected from electoral reality.

In the end, the true essence of politics lies in representation. Trump offered himself as that vessel, adapting to voters’ intentions without needing celebrity validation. Media figures report what busy Americans lack time to discover; they do not create presidents. Celebrities like Carlson, Musk, or Rogan provided support and enjoyed the ride, but Trump’s victories—past and future—stem from the courage of ordinary voters rejecting the status quo. Election fraud debates aside, when the system functions with integrity, the people’s choice prevails.

The Murdoch family’s Trump skepticism, Carlson’s bubble, and the 2024 bandwagon all underscore one fact: no media tycoon or podcaster controls the executive branch. Voters do. And that will remain the case.

Footnotes

¹ Rupert Murdoch and Donald Trump’s relationship has been documented extensively as transactional yet fraught; see sources below.

² Tucker Carlson’s firing and internal dynamics are detailed in contemporaneous reporting.

³ Viewership data from Nielsen via industry analyses.

⁴ 2024 election tallies from Associated Press and state certifications.

⁵ Carlson’s 2026 statements on Iran from interviews and podcasts.

Bibliography

•  “The Intertwined Legacies of Rupert Murdoch and Donald Trump.” The New Yorker, September 12, 2025.

•  “Tucker Carlson’s Ugly Exit From Fox News.” Vanity Fair, October 31, 2023.

•  “Tucker Carlson Fired by Fox News.” The Guardian, October 31, 2023.

•  “Tucker Carlson Apologizes for Backing Trump.” KOMO News, April 21, 2026.

•  “Tucker Carlson Says He Is ‘Tormented’ by His Past Support.” The New York Times, April 21, 2026.

•  “Jesse Watters Ratings Compared to Tucker Carlson.” Newsweek, July 19, 2023.

•  2024 U.S. Election Results. Associated Press, November 2024.

•  Hoffman, Rich. The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business.

•  Additional reporting from NPR, BBC, and Fox News internal analyses on ratings and programming.

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.

Michael Ryan Wins in the Primary for Butler County Commissioner: What a victory of 72% over 28% says about political reality

Michael Ryan’s decisive victory in the 2026 Butler County Republican primary for commissioner marks a significant shift in local politics, reflecting voter demand for genuine conservatism, accountability, and fresh leadership. I have followed these races closely for years, and this outcome stands out as a clear repudiation of entitlement politics and a triumph for the kind of candidate who earns support through hard work and integrity. With final unofficial results showing Ryan capturing approximately 72% of the vote to Cindy Carpenter’s 28%, the primary essentially decides the seat in this heavily Republican county. 

Butler County, Ohio, is in the southwestern part of the state, encompassing communities such as Hamilton, Middletown, Fairfield, and Oxford (home to Miami University), as well as numerous townships. Its population exceeds 390,000, with a strong manufacturing and agricultural base alongside growing suburban development. The Board of Commissioners oversees a substantial budget, infrastructure projects, economic development, public safety, and human services. For decades, the board has operated under Republican dominance, making the GOP primary the real contest. Winning it virtually guarantees victory in November against the unopposed Democrat Mike Miller. 

Cindy Carpenter had served as commissioner since 2011 and was seeking a fifth term. Her tenure focused on human services, public health, and fiscal matters, but it was marred by controversies that alienated many in the party base. Incidents included a heated confrontation at a Miami University-area apartment complex involving her granddaughter, where she was accused of leveraging her position, using inappropriate language, and displaying aggressive behavior captured on video. Investigations cleared her of criminal wrongdoing but highlighted conduct deemed “distasteful” and “beneath her elected position.” Additional complaints arose, including allegations of aggressive conduct at a housing coalition meeting. Even the county sheriff publicly expressed concerns about her behavior.

A particularly damaging episode involved Carpenter campaigning for a Democrat in the Middletown mayoral race, crossing party lines in ways that many viewed as disloyal. This move, combined with her decision not to seek the Butler County Republican Party endorsement, signaled a disconnect. She appeared to operate with an entitled mindset, assuming incumbency alone would carry her through. Her campaign signs, some in blue tones reminiscent of Democratic aesthetics, and limited fundraising—only about $7,700 compared to Ryan’s over $46,000—underscored a lack of broad support. 

In contrast, Michael Ryan entered the race as a former Hamilton City Council member with a background in business and community service. He positioned himself as a true conservative caretaker focused on fiscal responsibility, job creation, lower taxes, and practical governance. Ryan methodically built support: he secured the Republican Party endorsement with a striking 71% in the first round of voting, an early and historic show of strength. Major figures lined up behind him, including Auditor Nancy Nix, who endorsed him at a fundraiser when it still carried risk; Congressman Warren Davidson; State Representative Thomas Hall; and others, such as George Lang. These endorsements validated his approach and reassured voters that change could be safe and effective. 

I endorsed Ryan early, well before the primary heated up. Having known him for years, I saw in him the sincerity and dedication often missing in politics. He raised money effectively, attended events tirelessly, engaged voters across the county, and maintained a positive, bridge-building demeanor even amid challenges like sign theft. His campaign emphasized family values, economic growth, and responsiveness—qualities that resonated deeply in a county frustrated with the status quo. The watch party on primary night, held at the Premier Shooting facility with a speakeasy-style back area, overflowed with supporters. The room was packed; people had to turn sideways to navigate. Energy filled the space as results rolled in.

Congressman Warren Davidson attended and shared insights from his experience in large districts. We discussed the political savvy required at every level and how Ryan had grown into a polished figure capable of uniting people. Davidson’s presence underscored the race’s importance, and his admiration for Ryan’s development over the couple of years spoke volumes. Other supporters like Darbi Boddy added to the festive, optimistic atmosphere. It felt like a genuine celebration of earned success rather than entitlement. 

The results confirmed what grassroots momentum had suggested. With 100% of precincts reporting in unofficial tallies, Ryan’s 72%-28% margin was overwhelming and, for some, embarrassing to the incumbent. Early voting and election-day observations showed Carpenter’s team attempting a last-minute sign blitz, but it failed against organized, enthusiastic Ryan volunteers who kept their ground game strong. The Republican slate card proved crucial, as it often does; voters seeking vetted candidates found Ryan prominently featured through party processes and independent media coverage. 

This victory carries broader lessons for politics, especially local races. Party systems matter because they help aggregate preferences in a diverse society. People differ on countless details—concrete versus asphalt, tax priorities, development approaches—but effective governance requires building majorities. Dismissing the party as irrelevant or operating as a “RINO” critic while undermining it rarely succeeds. Ryan demonstrated the opposite: he worked within the system, earned endorsements through respect and effort, and presented a positive vision.

Background on Butler County’s political landscape adds context. The county has long leaned conservative, supporting Republican candidates at high levels, including strong support for Trump in recent cycles. Yet local frustrations with taxes, growth management, infrastructure, and perceived insider politics have grown. Projects involving economic development, public safety, and services will benefit from new energy. Ryan has signaled readiness to hit the ground running, with ideas on efficiency, accountability, and forward-thinking initiatives already in motion during the campaign. His experience on Hamilton council involved practical decision-making on budgets and community issues, preparing him well for county-level responsibilities. 

Roger Reynolds, former county auditor, briefly entered the race but withdrew after the party endorsement went decisively to Ryan. His last-minute alignment with Carpenter, including sign placement, highlighted lingering personal grievances but ultimately underscored the party’s unified shift. Voters rejected that approach. In an era where authenticity matters more than ever, Ryan’s consistent message and character won out.

I am proud to have supported him from the beginning. When Nancy Nix announced her endorsement at a fundraiser, it took courage because challengers to incumbents often face skepticism. Yet as momentum built—through articles, videos, conversations, and events—support snowballed. Thousands accessed information in the final days, researching Ryan’s record and deciding he represented the change they sought without chaos.

Looking ahead to the general election in November 2026, the focus shifts to implementation. Ryan will face minimal opposition, allowing emphasis on transition planning. Priorities likely include continuing fiscal stewardship amid state and federal shifts, addressing housing and development thoughtfully, enhancing public safety, and promoting economic opportunities in a region balancing rural roots with suburban expansion. His fresh perspective promises to inject optimism and results-oriented governance.

Politics at the county level profoundly affects daily life: road maintenance, emergency services, property taxes, zoning, and more. When voters sense entitlement or disconnection, they respond, as seen here. Carpenter’s campaign assumed voter inertia; Ryan proved engagement and sincerity prevail. This race reminds us that traditional political games—relying on name recognition, minimal effort, or media insiders—have diminished effectiveness in an era of an informed electorate.

The night of the primary embodied hope. A full room of dedicated Republicans, conversations with leaders like Davidson, and the visible relief and excitement on supporters’ faces painted a picture of renewal. Ryan’s wife and family shared in the moment, grounding the victory in personal commitment. For those involved in politics, the takeaway is clear: do the work, be genuine, build coalitions, and respect the process. Ryan exemplified this, turning potential obstacles into advantages.

As someone who values conservative principles of limited government, individual responsibility, and community strength, I see Ryan’s win as validation. Butler County deserves leadership that listens, acts prudently, and prioritizes residents. With the primary behind us, anticipation builds for his term starting in 2027. Many good projects and ideas wait in the wings, ready for execution.  And because of this election, a lot of good things will happen.

Footnotes

1.  Journal-News reporting on final unofficial results showing Ryan at 72%.

2.  Cincinnati Enquirer coverage of fundraising disparity and endorsements.

3.  Ballotpedia profiles on candidates and race background.

4.  Accounts of Carpenter controversies from multiple local news outlets.

5.  Party endorsement details and 71% vote.

6.  Observations from the watch party and interactions with Davidson.

Bibliography / Further Reading

•  Journal-News (Hamilton, Ohio): Multiple articles on the primary, results, and candidate profiles (2026).

•  Cincinnati Enquirer: Coverage of the commissioner race, fundraising, and controversies.

•  Ballotpedia: Entries for Michael V. Ryan, Cindy Carpenter, and Butler County elections 2026.

•  Ryan for Butler official campaign site: Policy positions and updates.

•  Butler County Board of Elections: Official results and candidate filings.

•   articles on local politics and endorsements.

•  Additional context from county commissioner office descriptions and historical election data.

This primary will be remembered as a turning point in which voters chose character, preparation, and vision over incumbency. Michael Ryan earned this victory, and Butler County stands to benefit. The hard work of the campaign now transitions to governance, with high expectations and strong support. It is a positive development for the future.

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 Dawn of the Vertical Air Taxi Revolution: Joby Aviation’s Historic Manhattan Flights Confirm a Future Already Here – Reflections on Innovation, Butler County Leadership, and the May 2026 Primary

I have been saying for years that the vertical air taxi market—powered by electric vertical takeoff and landing (eVTOL) aircraft—would quite literally take off, and that by the end of 2026 it would become commonplace in major cities and airports across the country. Leading up to 2025 and into 2026, I told everyone who would listen that Joby Aviation was positioned to lead this transformation, turning what many dismissed as science fiction into everyday reality. And right on cue, at the end of April 2026—specifically during demonstrations from April 25 through April 27 and extending into the following days—Joby completed New York City’s first-ever point-to-point eVTOL air taxi flights, soaring from John F. Kennedy International Airport (JFK) to Manhattan heliports in under 10 minutes (some reports clocked segments at just seven minutes). This wasn’t just a flashy stunt; it was a critical FAA milestone under the eVTOL Integration Pilot Program (eIPP), showcasing seamless integration into one of the world’s busiest and most tightly regulated airspaces. The flights validated everything I had predicted: quiet, emissions-free, stable vertical flight that outperforms noisy traditional helicopters, all while promising to slash travel times and transform how we move in and out of urban centers. 

To understand why this moment feels so validating, it helps to step back and consider the substantial background of the eVTOL industry and Joby Aviation specifically. eVTOL technology represents the convergence of electric propulsion, advanced batteries, distributed electric propulsion (multiple rotors for redundancy and safety), and fly-by-wire controls—essentially combining the vertical agility of a helicopter with the efficiency and quiet operation of a fixed-wing aircraft. Unlike traditional helicopters, which rely on loud combustion engines and single rotors, Joby’s S4 aircraft uses 12 electric propellers (six tilting for forward flight, six dedicated for lift) powered by high-energy-density batteries. This design delivers near-silent operation—reportedly 100 times quieter than helicopters during takeoff and landing in some metrics —with cruise noise levels around 45 dB at altitude, quieter than normal conversation. It uses no jet fuel, produces zero tailpipe emissions, and offers far greater stability in flight. The aircraft carries a pilot and up to four passengers, making it ideal for premium, on-demand service akin to Uber Black but in the sky. 

Joby Aviation, founded in 2009 and headquartered in Santa Cruz, California, has spent more than a decade refining this vision. Backed by heavyweights like Toyota (a manufacturing partner providing automotive-grade expertise and capital), Delta Air Lines, and Uber, the company has methodically progressed through FAA certification stages. By early 2026, Joby had flown its first FAA-conforming aircraft (March 11), entered the final Type Inspection Authorization phase, and cleared Stage 4 of the five-stage certification process. The April 2026 Manhattan demonstrations—part of a week-long campaign using existing heliports such as Downtown Skyport, West 30th Street, and East 34th Street—were not passenger-carrying commercial flights but rather critical proof-of-concept operations. They demonstrated point-to-point integration with FAA-controlled airspace at one of America’s busiest airports, building on New York’s selection as part of the White House-backed eIPP announced in March 2026. Joby was named a partner on five projects spanning 12 states, accelerating the path to commercial rollout. These flights weren’t isolated; Joby has conducted similar demos globally, but Manhattan’s dense urban environment was the ultimate credibility check. 

The numbers tell a compelling story of momentum. Joby aims to launch a paying passenger service in late 2026, starting potentially in Dubai (where regulatory support is strong) before scaling in the U.S. Production is ramping aggressively: the company acquired a second major facility in Dayton, Ohio—a 700,000-square-foot site now operational and poised to help double output to four aircraft per month by 2027. Combined with its California operations, this positions Joby for rapid scaling. Analysts project that the global eVTOL market could reach tens of billions of dollars annually within a decade, driven by urban congestion relief, airport access, and tourism applications. Joby has already acquired Blade Air Mobility’s passenger business, integrating into Uber’s app for seamless booking. Early economics suggest fares comparable to premium ground services or helicopters today, but with far greater speed and comfort. I have watched this trajectory closely, and the April 2026 events align perfectly with the economic development path I outlined a year ago: infrastructure, certification, and political vision converging to make air taxis as routine as ride-sharing. 

Here in southern Ohio, this revolution hits close to home. Butler County—home to Hamilton, Middletown, Fairfield, and Oxford—sits just north of Cincinnati and is ideally positioned for an air taxi hub. I have long advocated for this alongside Michael Ryan, the Republican nominee for Butler County Commissioner and a forward-thinking leader who gets it. Ryan, a former Hamilton City Councilman and Vice Mayor, has been pushing for advanced manufacturing and aviation infrastructure since his early days in local government. He has toured facilities such as the National Advanced Air Mobility Center of Excellence and met with Joby representatives multiple times in late 2025 to lay the groundwork for a vertiport (vertical takeoff/landing pad) in Hamilton or across broader Butler County. While others dismissed it as futuristic fantasy, Ryan saw the opportunity to position our community as a leader rather than a late adopter. With Joby’s Dayton facility just up the road—already gearing up for mass production—Butler County could become a regional nexus for eVTOL operations, serving Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky International Airport, Dayton International, and local business travelers. Imagine skipping hour-long traffic snarls on I-75: a quick app hail from a city-center pad or Westchester area, a 10-15 minute flight, and you’re at the terminal. No more rental cars, buses, or tolls for trips to Orlando’s cruise ports or Disney parks—direct sky taxi from hotel to ship in under 15 minutes. 

This brings us squarely into the political arena and the critical May 2026 primary election. As primaries loom in early May—specifically May 5 for Butler County—the choice for commissioner couldn’t be clearer. Michael Ryan is the endorsed Republican candidate, backed overwhelmingly by the Butler County Republican Party (71% of the central committee vote in January 2026). He faces incumbent Cindy Carpenter, who chose not to seek the party’s endorsement and has a track record that many in the community find troubling. Roger Reynolds, the former county auditor whose past legal issues lingered in the background, briefly entered the race but dropped out after the GOP’s decisive support for Ryan. I have driven around Butler County and seen the contrast in campaign signs firsthand. Ryan’s signs look sharp, crisp, and well-maintained—fresh volunteers keeping them upright across Hamilton, Middletown, and beyond. Carpenter’s signs, plastered aggressively in early April (or late March), now appear tattered, faded, and weather-beaten just weeks before the vote. They flap like old, neglected flags, a visual metaphor for a campaign lacking the grassroots energy to sustain momentum. Signs can deceive at first glance, projecting illusory support, but maintenance reveals the truth: real backing requires ongoing work, not just a burst of spending at the outset. 

I have followed local politics closely, and the differences between the candidates stand out vividly. Michael Ryan is a conservative with proven results in job creation, tax relief, and economic development during his time on Hamilton City Council. As vice mayor, he championed initiatives like the Advanced Manufacturing Hub and aviation-related projects that align directly with the eVTOL future. His energy, fresh ideas, and willingness to engage visionaries like Joby early—when they were still navigating hurdles—set him apart. Ryan understands that politicians with foresight bring communities into leadership roles on emerging technologies. Butler County doesn’t need to play catch-up a decade from now; it can lead now, while the market is at its hottest. The vertical airspace sector is arguably the most dynamic in the U.S. economy right now, with Dubai, China, Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Orlando all moving fast. A Joby hub here would mean jobs, tourism boosts, and infrastructure that attracts businesses—opportunities that would be impossible without proactive leadership. 

In contrast, Cindy Carpenter’s tenure has been marked by controversies that have alienated even fellow Republicans. She has faced scrutiny for public behavior unbecoming of high office—including documented incidents of intimidation and foul language—and was caught campaigning for Democrats in races like Middletown’s mayoral contest, a move that cost her the GOP endorsement. Everyone I speak with wants to move on from that style of politics. Her campaign’s reliance on outdated signs and legacy networks feels like an attempt to manufacture the illusion of broad support from “Rhino” elements resistant to change. But voters see through it. The Republican Party has adjusted, listening to the grassroots and aligning with leaders who embrace the future rather than clinging to the past. Ryan’s team has volunteers out maintaining visibility because the support is real—not propped up by a handful of upset insiders. 

As someone who has collaborated with Ryan on these forward-looking ideas, I can attest to his genuine commitment. He has been trying to schedule deeper engagements with Joby, but their schedule is now packed, as Joby is the hottest ticket in aviation. That alone shows how prescient his initial outreach in 2025 was. Once through the primary—widely seen as the real contest in this heavily Republican county—Ryan will be well-positioned for the general election. Over the summer and fall of 2026, I expect him to facilitate demonstration events showcasing Joby aircraft right here in Butler County. Imagine community fly-ins or vertiport planning sessions that highlight the vision: quick hops to Dayton or Cincinnati airports, avoiding traffic, and positioning us as an eVTOL leader alongside Manhattan, Dubai, and Orlando. This is the kind of bold, conservative leadership that drives sustainable growth without raising taxes or burdening residents. 

The broader implications extend far beyond one county. Globally, places like Orlando are eyeing eVTOLs to ferry tourists from Disney hotels directly to cruise terminals on the Space Coast—no more buses, rental cars, or toll roads. China and the Middle East are investing heavily. Here at home, airports like Dayton International and regional pads in Westchester or Hamilton could become hubs. Joby and competitors like Archer Aviation (with its focus on Georgia) are racing, but Joby’s Dayton presence and certification lead give it the edge, in my view. Archer has strong backing and production ambitions, yet Joby’s momentum—Toyota manufacturing expertise, Uber integration, and real-world demos—makes it the frontrunner for near-term scale. The industry isn’t zero-sum; both will grow, but early adopters like Butler County win by partnering with the most advanced player now. 

I do not doubt that if elections were held today under these dynamics, Michael Ryan would prevail because voters crave representatives who deliver results and vision. Primaries often see lower turnout, but that makes every vote crucial. Do not take it for granted—get out and vote for Michael Ryan on May 5, 2026. This primary is the gateway to a stronger general election campaign and, ultimately, to realizing these opportunities. With Ryan in the commissioner’s seat, Butler County secures its place in the new transportation economy. Cindy Carpenter’s approach—reactive, divisive, and disconnected from innovation—offers no such path. Her signs may have looked imposing at the campaign’s start, but their current state tells the real story: neglected support from a candidate whose time has passed.

Looking ahead, the future of air taxis is bright and efficient. Start with pilots, transition to autonomous operations as regulations evolve, and watch as it becomes as simple as ordering an Uber. For working professionals, families heading to cruises, or business travelers dodging gridlock, this changes everything. Joby’s Manhattan milestone isn’t the end—it’s the beginning of nationwide rollout. And thanks to leaders like Michael Ryan, who embraced it early, southern Ohio won’t be left behind. I have been consistent on this for years because the technology, economics, and political will are aligning exactly as forecasted. Those who invested early—financially or politically—stand to benefit enormously. The hottest market sector in the economy is vertical airspace, and Butler County is poised to claim its share.

This episode also underscores a deeper truth about politics and progress: true leadership adapts to people’s needs and future realities, much like the representative government I have discussed in other contexts. Trump voters and everyday Americans choose leaders who listen and deliver—not those trapped in past grievances. Ryan embodies that forward momentum. Carpenter’s record of supporting Democrats in key races and public missteps has left her isolated. The party’s decision to back fresh ideas over incumbency was wise and reflects a broader adjustment toward innovation.

The rubber is hitting the road—or rather, the aircraft are taking off. Joby Aviation’s April 2026 demonstrations in Manhattan confirm what I have been saying all along. With Michael Ryan leading Butler County into this new era, our communities stand to gain jobs, infrastructure, and a competitive edge that legacy thinking could never provide. Vote early, vote often in spirit, and make your voice heard in the primary. The future is electric, vertical, and fast—and it’s arriving right on schedule.

Footnotes

¹ Joby Aviation press release detailing April 2026 NYC demonstrations and eIPP participation.

² FAA certification progress and conforming aircraft timeline from industry reports.

³ Noise and stability comparisons between eVTOLs and helicopters.

⁴ Butler County Republican Party endorsement and primary candidate details.

⁵ Michael Ryan’s economic development record and aviation advocacy.

⁶ Joby manufacturing expansion in Dayton, Ohio.

⁷ Market projections and global adoption outlook for the eVTOL sector.

Bibliography

•  Joby Aviation. “Joby Brings Electric Air Taxis to New York City in Week-Long Flight Campaign.” April 27, 2026. https://www.jobyaviation.com/news/joby-brings-electric-air-taxis-to-new-york-city-in-week-long-flight-campaign.

•  “Joby Aviation’s JFK-Manhattan Test Flight Puts Air Taxis Seven Minutes from Reality.” Startup Fortune, April 2026.

•  “Joby vs. Archer Aviation: Which eVTOL Stock Wins in 2026?” Yahoo Finance / Motley Fool, April 8, 2026.

•  “Who’s Running for Butler County Commissioner in Ohio?” The Cincinnati Enquirer, April 23, 2026.

•  “Republican Primary for Butler County Commission Seat Contentious.” Journal-News, April 20, 2026.

•  “Joby Obtains Second Ohio Facility for Dual-Site eVTOL Production Strategy.” CompositesWorld, January 9, 2026.

•  “Michael Ryan for Butler County Commissioner” campaign site and news updates, 2026.

•  Additional reporting from FOX5NY, The Next Web, and local Ohio election coverage on eVTOL integration and primary dynamics.

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.

Sonic Warfare: How Popular Music Became a Stealth Weapon in the Spiritual and Demographic Assault on Family, Faith, and Human Civilization

In the quiet rhythm of everyday life, where once a family gathered around the radio on a Sunday drive to church or tuned in to Casey Kasem’s countdown of the top hits, a profound transformation has unfolded—one that few recognized as it crept through the airwaves and into the bedrooms of children across generations. What began as innocent expressions of yearning for love, commitment, and the building of families has morphed, decade by decade, into a calculated barrage of confusion, anger, victimization, and raw hedonism. This is not mere artistic evolution or market demand; it is, I argue, a deliberate strategy woven into the fabric of mass media, engineered by producers and influencers who traded short-term celebrity and power for something far darker—an alignment with forces that undermine the very foundations of stable society, traditional relationships, and the biblical understanding of eternity. It ties directly into what I have long described as the depopulation agenda: a multifaceted campaign not just to control numbers but to erode the human impulse toward marriage, children, and generational continuity, replacing it with isolation, addiction, and spiritual fragmentation. The evidence is voluminous when viewed across the full scope of history, technology, and culture, and it reveals a pattern too consistent to dismiss as coincidence. 

Consider the family structure before the age of electricity and broadcast media. Doors were locked, parents controlled the household narrative, and social interactions happened in churches, businesses, or community gatherings. Polite society relied on shared experiences—songs that everyone heard together on the radio, reinforcing values of courtship, devotion, and the dream of a white-picket-fence life. Parents were the gatekeepers; external influences had to pass through them. But with radio waves, then television, and now personal devices streaming infinite content, that gate has been smashed open. Mass marketing and advertising discovered the power of repeated stimuli to sway opinions, and the family unit—once a fortress—became decentralized. Spouses disconnected, children tuned into private worlds on smartphones, and the shared cultural experience evaporated. Apple Music and Spotify deliver algorithm-curated isolation; no longer do families bond over the same top 100 on Sunday afternoons. This fragmentation is no accident. It mirrors the broader spiritual war against sovereignty—of nations, communities, and the individual soul—where outside forces, whether earthly producers or something more sinister, erode the intellect needed to raise good kids and build enduring families. 

Trace the musical trajectory since the discovery of broadcast power, and the degrading plot becomes unmistakable. In the 1950s, songs like Elvis Presley’s “Love Me Tender” or classics such as “Earth Angel” by The Penguins captured a culture yearning for genuine connection. Love was portrayed as destiny, leading naturally to marriage, family, and stability. The purpose was clear: find your soulmate, build a life, and contribute to society. These were not raw expressions of lust but hopeful anthems of commitment, played in cars with the whole family, shaping a collective mindset of hope and responsibility. The 1960s continued this trend with Elvis hits emphasizing man and woman in a harmonious partnership, while the 1970s brought soulful ballads from artists evoking deep emotional bonds—songs about finding “the one,” weathering life together, and the warmth of devotion. Even into the 1980s, tracks like Huey Lewis and the News’ “The Power of Love” or Foreigner’s “I Want to Know What Love Is” celebrated the drive to connect meaningfully, to work hard, buy a home, and raise a family. Music sold records because it reflected what people wanted: a date that led to vows, children, and a legacy. Producers catered to a market hungry for that vision because society itself still valued it. 

Then came the pivot—late 1980s into the 1990s—a deliberate experimentation that shattered the mold. Artists like Marilyn Manson emerged as shock troops, with androgynous imagery, anti-Christian rage, and lyrics that attacked the family unit head-on. Manson, openly tied to the Church of Satan and drawing from occult traditions, embodied the transsexual confusion and demonic rebellion that would later flood mainstream culture. Songs weren’t about building; they were about tearing down—heartbreak as permanent, hookups as norm, authority (especially parental and religious) as the enemy. Rob Zombie and similar acts amplified the anger rock movement, blending horror aesthetics with nihilistic messages. Even KISS, with its demonic stage personas, had earlier produced some love-oriented tracks, but the new wave glorified destruction. This wasn’t organic rebellion; it was engineered to pit children against parents. Kids raised on 1950s-1980s love songs suddenly heard their own generation’s soundtrack declare the old ways oppressive. The goal: undo the values of sacrifice, fidelity, and long-term investment. 

Rap music’s mainstream explosion accelerated the assault. Early artists like Run-DMC offered energy and positivity, but by the 1990s, figures like Snoop Dogg—pushed into the spotlight by industry producers—delivered tracks like “Gin and Juice.” Here was the shift crystallized: laid-back hedonism, pocketful of rubbers, smoking dope, partying till dawn in depressed neighborhoods. No more Huey Lewis-style work ethic or dreams of stability; instead, victimization cycles, hopelessness, and a culture of easy sex without consequence. Quincy Jones’ earlier proactive, uplifting productions for artists of color gave way to this new narrative—one that appealed to confusion and resentment, perfectly timed for kids with personal devices bypassing parental oversight. Rap wasn’t just music; it was marketed as rebellion against the “square” family values of prior generations. Studies confirm the lyrical evolution: from 1959 to 1980, popular songs were largely free of explicit content and focused on romance. Post-1990, references to sex, drugs, violence, and substance abuse skyrocketed—drug mentions up 66% since the 1970s, with degrading sexual lyrics linked to earlier teen sexual activity and riskier behaviors. 

This cultural reprogramming coincided with measurable societal decline. U.S. marriage rates fell from around 11 per 1,000 people in the 1950s to roughly 6 per 1,000 today. The share of adults who are married dropped from two-thirds in 1950 to about 46% now. Divorce rates, while peaking in 1980, remain elevated compared to mid-century levels, with ever-married women experiencing divorce rates nearly quadrupling since 1900. Fertility rates have plummeted alongside these shifts, contributing to real demographic pressures—not some abstract “overpopulation” panic of old eugenics movements, but a modern crisis of underpopulation driven by delayed or foregone family formation. Attitudes toward same-sex marriage and transgender issues shifted dramatically among younger generations, with Gallup and Pew data showing support rising from minority views in the 1990s to 69%+ today for same-sex marriage, and LGBTQ+ identification reaching 9.3% overall (over 20% among Gen Z). While personal freedoms matter, the broader effect—when combined with music’s normalization of fluid sexuality, hookups, and identity confusion—has been fewer traditional families and births. 

Behind the scenes, the producers who greenlit this shift often operated with occult undertones. Aleister Crowley’s influence permeates rock history—from Jimmy Page buying Crowley’s Boleskine House and incorporating his philosophy into Led Zeppelin, to the Beatles featuring Crowley on the cover of Sgt Pepper’s, to David Bowie and the Rolling Stones’ documented flirtations, as documented by filmmaker Kenneth Anger. Marilyn Manson’s self-identification as a Church of Satan minister and his Antichrist Superstar-era provocations weren’t subtle. These weren’t fringe eccentricities; they represented deals for fame, where short-term gains—celebrity, wealth, power—traded against traditional biblical eternity. As I detail extensively in my upcoming book The Politics of Heaven, such alignments with cult practices echo ancient Baal and Moloch worship: human sacrifices to dark forces for immediate reward, now repackaged as artistic “expression.” The intent was never to satisfy audience yearning but to steer it toward brokenness, away from the soulmate/family model that perpetuates civilization. 

Streaming technology completed the isolation. No shared Sunday radio experiences; instead, personalized algorithms feed each person their own echo chamber of below-the-line thinking—victimhood, Democrat-driven despair, sexual fluidity. Most modern output assumes a broken society rather than aspiring to one worth building. Love songs still exist, but from fractured perspectives: heartbreak as default, commitment as naive. The depopulation agenda thrives here—not overt sterilization, but cultural seduction that makes family formation seem outdated or oppressive. Pride events, trans narratives, and same-sex normalization, amplified through entertainment, further dilute the reproductive imperative. It is spiritual warfare: demons of old answering modern pacts, undermining God’s creation by targeting the family—the bedrock of sustainable intellect and good society.

Yet awareness is the first counterstrike. By graphing this 70-year arc—love anthems to rage anthems, shared culture to solitary despair—the pattern emerges clearly. Music didn’t just reflect change; it drove it, with producers knowingly wielding it as a back-door weapon into isolated minds. The proof lies in the statistics, the lyrical analyses, the occult threads, and the demographic results. My earlier book, The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, showed how to navigate such battles in practical terms; The Politics of Heaven, due in 2027, will map the full treasure hunt through history’s spiritual undercurrents. It’s not too late. Reclaim the narrative—curate what enters your home, teach discernment to the young, and recognize the game for what it is: a military campaign against humanity itself. The airwaves once united us in hope; now, understanding their weaponization can help us rebuild what was nearly lost.

Footnotes

(Integrated via key citations above; full sourcing below for transparency.)

Bibliography

•  Bowling Green State University National Center for Family & Marriage Research. “Divorce: More than a Century of Change, 1900-2022.” (2024).

•  USAFacts. “How Has Marriage in the US Changed Over Time?” (2025).

•  Our World in Data. “Marriages and Divorces.”

•  Fedler, Fred et al. “Analysis of Popular Music Reveals Emphasis on Sex, De-Emphasis of Romance.” (1982).

•  Madanikia, Y. & Bartholomew, K. “Themes of Lust and Love in Popular Music Lyrics From 1970 to 2010.” SAGE Open (2014).

•  Primack et al. Studies on substance use in popular music (various, 2008+).

•  Martino, S.C. et al. “Exposure to Degrading Versus Nondegrading Music Lyrics and Sexual Behavior Among Youth.” Pediatrics (2006).

•  Louder Than War. “Aleister Crowley’s Influence On Popular Music.” (2017).

•  Bebergal, Peter. Season of the Witch: How the Occult Saved Rock and Roll. (TarcherPerigee, 2014).

•  Gallup Historical Trends on LGBTQ+ Rights and Identification (2024-2025).

•  Pew Research Center. Reports on LGBTQ+ experiences and attitudes (2025).

Further reading: Michael Hur’s works on the music industry’s shadows; historical analyses of the culture industry (Adorno et al.); and primary sources on 20th-century population policy debates. The full scope demands ongoing research, but the trajectory is undeniable. This essay captures the essence of the deep dive—proof that understanding the game is the path to winning it.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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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.

Judging the Rooster: The long criminal history and drug abuse of D.J. Byrnes–the joke of Columbus

The more I think about it, now that the news stories have settled down and the people blowing on the fire revealed themselves, I really don’t like The Rooster, who goes by the real name D.J. Byrnes.  It just so happens that the young lady he is saying had an affair with Vivek Ramaswamy, Alicia Lang, I watched grow up, and I think a lot of her, all positive.  And it really bothers me that some lowlife like The Rooster would put her in political crosshairs as he did, purely out of desperation.  I really haven’t thought much about The Rooster’s style of political reporting until he did this.  But he crossed the line, and his actions actually match a deeper pattern of criminal activity, drug use, and vile behavior that deserves consideration, especially after what he purposely did to innocent people, which I think requires a deeper dive analysis.  After he put out his hit piece story about Alicia, trying to hurt Vivek and his family in a purely inflammatory way, based on just jealous rumors and whispers, I don’t feel like being civil or fair to people who present themselves as openly bad for themselves and society at large.  Ironically, a person like The Rooster would feel entitled to attempt to hide his own bad deeds behind speculative politics at best, with the intent to help the joke of a person, Amy Acton, with her campaign, now that people are remembering her as the Lockdown Lady, from her bad policies during the COVID-19 lockdowns in Ohio, which she was completely responsible for.  We’re talking about a person who is saying terrible things about a young lady I know and like quite a lot, and I’m not happy about it, especially coming from a substance abuser of cocaine and other intoxicants, who has a police record.  He’s the last person in the world who should be saying anything about bad behavior, especially when I know a lot about the characters involved and that the statements are excessively inflammatory, purposefully so. 

Back in 2007, when he was a sophomore at the University of Montana, The Rooster got mixed up with a group planning to rob a local drug dealer who lived across from campus. The guy was supplying high-grade marijuana from California. Byrnes admits he helped scout the house and passed along info about money and weed—he thought it was just going to be a quick stick-up, no violence. On the night it went down, he showed up, saw it was turning into a party, texted the others to call it off, and left. But the rest of the crew went through with it—ski masks, forced entry, pistol-whipped the dealer, tied up his girlfriend.

A few months later, after some of the others flipped and cooperated, his name came up. In May 2008, he was hit with four felony charges in Missoula, bail set at $100,000. He turned himself in, and it all got resolved—he ended up with a two-year suspended sentence, no prison time, and the charges were eventually dismissed.

Then, in 2012, in Franklin County, Ohio, he pleaded guilty to two counts of misdemeanor criminal damage from a drunken property crime. It got really bad after he lost a union job in 2021. He was living in Franklinton with a liquor store right across the street, and had a serious drunk-driving car accident in 2020 that didn’t even slow him down.  None of this is ancient history; he is still very much the same person today.  Friends staged an intervention in 2022, and he’s been sober since.

President Trump’s next major executive order could create more millionaires than any single event in modern history, and he’s been dropping hints about it everywhere. It’s the kind of bold, pro-growth move that cuts through all the noise in Washington and actually puts real opportunity back in the hands of everyday Americans who are tired of being held back by bureaucracy and overregulation. But right now, what’s weighing on my mind even more is the ugly underbelly of Ohio politics, especially this smear campaign that’s unfolding against Vivek Ramaswamy as he fights to become the next governor of our state.  I feel like I need to lay it all out here because it’s not just politics as usual—it’s something deeper, something that touches on character, truth, and the kind of righteous indignation that has defined human history from the days of the Dead Sea Scrolls right up to today. Amy Acton, the former health director under Governor DeWine who’s now running as the Democrat nominee for governor in 2026, has been having a rough time explaining herself. Her record from the COVID lockdowns is a disaster, and her personal life has come under scrutiny with that 2019 police report showing a domestic dispute where she and her husband had been drinking, she took some prescription meds, got upset over work hours, pulled a mirror off the wall, and shattered the glass. Her team calls it just a simple argument, but it paints a picture of someone who doesn’t manage personal affairs all that well, and in a high-stakes race like this, it matters. She was the lockdown lady, one of the worst in the nation, pushing policies that wrecked small businesses, families, and the economy of Ohio. A lot of people are still digging out from under that, and her bedside manner, which might comfort some Democrats, isn’t winning over moderates, independents, or conservatives. She’s not grabbing independents because they remember the damage.

I was covering this hit piece by a Columbus-based Substack writer known as The Rooster—real name D.J. Byrnes—on Vivek Ramaswamy, and at first I thought it was just the usual noise that comes with being the frontrunner. Vivek has Trump’s endorsement, he’s leading in most polls against Acton in what’s shaping up to be a competitive but Republican-leaning race, and when you’re out front, people take shots. But there’s another layer to this that left me unsatisfied and, honestly, filled with a deep sense of righteous indignation. I don’t say that lightly, and I’ll explain why it hits me so hard. I happen to know a lot of the people involved personally, not because I’m out there name-dropping for clout, but because in my work as an independent journalist and through my networks in Ohio, I’ve built real relationships over the years. People want to know how I can speak with such conviction on these matters, and it’s because I’ve been in the room, on the calls, and seen these folks up close. That includes Senator George Lang, whom I know very well—our friendship goes beyond politics, it’s mutual respect outside the arena. And crucially, I know his daughter to be a very respectable young lady who doesn’t deserve to be thought of in such a trashy way, as The Rooster tried to portray her, as a shadow of himself to carry the sins of his own actions as a displaced figure, outside himself. The Rooster pushed a story about a supposed sexual relationship or “booty calls” with Vivek whenever he’s in southwestern Ohio. I’ve known Alicia for a very long time.  She’s nothing like a Stormy Daniels type, as The Rooster tried to make her sound in order to tear away at Vivek Ramaswamy’s reputation, even without a grain of truth. She’s smart, dedicated, hardworking, and involved at the highest levels of politics because she comes from a family that values service and excellence. The assumption that just because she traveled with Vivek’s campaign or worked as his deputy chief of staff or whatever her role was, that there must be some sleazy affair—that’s absolutely presumptive on behalf of very low-life opinions on how professional people conduct themselves. It’s not just false; it’s malicious.

When I first talked about this story, I tried to keep a level head, but it came across a bit restrained because I was containing my extreme anger. It bothers me at a fundamental level. Knowing the people involved, knowing how false this is, it stirs something in me that goes straight back to the kind of ethical conduct and judgment I’ve been studying deeply. As a birthday gift to myself this year, my wife and I treated ourselves to a membership at the Museum of the Bible in Washington, D.C. We’ve been there several times, but this visit was special because of the traveling Dead Sea Scrolls exhibit straight from Israel. I’ve always wanted to see them up close—the real thing—and I love the writings from the Second Temple period. We spent the entire afternoon there, no phones, no distractions, just hours immersed in those ancient texts. I bought gifts from the shop afterward, all Dead Sea Scroll-themed, because the material and content put me in heaven. That exhibit, combined with everything else at the museum, reminded me why I wear this particular hoodie so often these days—it’s my new favorite, a constant reminder of that day. What struck me most wasn’t just the scrolls themselves, but the philosophy of ethical conduct and righteousness that pours out of them. I think often of the Teacher of Righteousness, the enigmatic leader of the Essene community at Qumran who wrote or inspired so much of what we have in those scrolls. He led this sect in a righteous rebellion against the “Wicked Priest” of the Temple establishment—corrupt figures who had twisted power and law for their own gain. You don’t see a ton of direct talk about it in the canonical Bible, but Jesus himself was likely influenced by or connected to that Essene tradition as it spread from the desert community near the Dead Sea, a day’s walk from Jerusalem.  In whatever way people remember me down the centuries, I think it will be in a similar way as the Dead Sea Scrolls talked about this Teacher of Righteousness, and for that, I would be quite satisfied. 

Those scrolls are an exploration into righteousness and how it confronts evil in the world. The Teacher of Righteousness embodied that judgment call against hypocrisy and wickedness, helping lay the groundwork for what became Christian thought and, ultimately, Western civilization’s emphasis on moral clarity. The Dead Sea Scrolls are filled with righteous indignation—clear distinctions between good and evil, the War Scroll outlining battles against the forces of darkness, the Book of Enoch with its visions of judgment, the Copper Scroll, and apocryphal texts that didn’t make the final cut but reveal the raw sentiments of the time. The Essenes hid these in jars in caves to preserve truth against purges and turbulence, and they survived the Romans, the Crusades, everything, to reach us. That’s why seeing them in person on my birthday was one of the happiest days of my life. I was removed, for those hours, from the daily grind of dealing with people who don’t always deserve the encouragement or support I try to give them. It was a day where righteousness was openly embraced, unfiltered.

That same righteous indignation is exactly what I feel toward this smear against Vivek Ramaswamy and, by extension, Alicia Lang. The Rooster’s piece is based on innuendo, whispers from people with personal gripes or political axes to grind, hoping something sticks to help Amy Acton, whose campaign is struggling to close the gap. Polls right now show the race tight—some have Vivek up by a few points, others have Acton with a slight edge, but Vivek is the clear Republican frontrunner with Trump, Vance, and the establishment behind him. RealClearPolitics averages and surveys from Emerson, Bowling Green State University, and others put it within a couple of points, but Ohio is trending Republican, and Vivek’s vision for the state—pro-business, anti-woke, focused on actual results—resonates. Acton has name recognition from her days as a health director, but it’s mostly negative among anyone who lived through the lockdowns she championed. The Rooster, D.J. Byrnes, has a history of this kind of thing. He’s a left-leaning Substack writer in Columbus known for hit pieces on politicians, often with a partisan edge. His own background includes past legal troubles—felony charges back in 2008 as discussed, related to robbery planning, alcohol and substance issues, misdemeanors for criminal damage. People who aren’t doing well themselves often project their failings onto others, tearing them down to avoid personal judgment against them. That’s the pattern here. He wanted dirt on Vivek to prop up Acton, so he ran with rumors of an affair, implying booty calls in southwestern Ohio, travel together somehow equaling infidelity. No evidence, no pictures, no proof—just whispers. If he had real dirt, he’d have used it, but instead it’s all fabrication to hurt a good man and a nice young woman whose only crime is being effective and connected to strong Republican figures like her father, Senator George Lang, the majority whip.

I watched Alicia grow up.  It’s very weird to hear her name associated with any kind of detrimental behavior, which is why the credibility of the accusation falls apart so quickly outside the minds of really stupid people. She’s too smart, too dedicated to public service and making the world better, to throw it all away on something reckless. Vivek is a family man, a brilliant entrepreneur who has written books, built businesses, run for president, and is now all-in on Ohio as Trump’s pick for governor. He’s too calculating, too focused on big ideas—reforming education, cutting regulations, fighting the administrative state—to risk it on some affair. He’s seen up close what Trump went through with endless false accusations, and he’s smart enough not to hand ammunition to enemies. Republicans I know in these circles are productive people—running businesses, passing bills at 2 a.m., obsessed with enterprise and results. They don’t have time for the kind of extramarital nonsense or “cocaine bins and gentlemen’s clubs” that seem more common in certain Democrat or swampy circles. I’m not saying it never happens on our side, but in my experience, the busy, value-creating conservatives don’t live double lives. Democrats, by contrast, often project their own base instincts—obsession with sex, loneliness, primal urges—onto everyone else. They assume that because they think that way, everyone does. It’s part of a broader spiritual warfare: dumbing people down to biological instincts so evil can play in their minds unchecked. That’s why they hate judgment, hate the Bible, hate capitalism, hate billionaires who succeed through merit. “Don’t judge,” they say, while judging everyone who holds them accountable.

The Rooster’s article feels cooked because he’s in trouble himself—trying to get clean, mad at the world, unable to maintain relationships. People like Alicia walk by and don’t give him the time of day because she’s in a world of jackets and ties, reverence for law and order, not slobs in sleeping-bag clothes. He wants to beat others to the punch, psychologically tearing down good people so he doesn’t feel bad about his own choices. That’s evil in the classic sense—the kind the Essenes railed against in their scrolls: wicked priests who corrupt institutions, attack the righteous to cover their own rot. The Teacher of Righteousness stood against that, and so should we. This smear isn’t just politics; it’s an attempt to undermine Trump’s pick, hurt Senator Lang’s family, and drag down anyone positioned to impose judgment on unrighteous behavior. Vivek is out there fighting for Ohio—higher education reform, economic dawn, real leadership—while Acton offers complaints about billionaires and special interests without a positive vision. Her lockdowns hurt the very people she claims to champion, and now personal issues resurface at the worst time.

I’ve known a lot of characters in the Ohio Statehouse, and the productive ones—Republicans focused on bills, sponsorships, businesses—aren’t the ones chasing Hooters servers or Twin Peaks nights out with the guys trying to get the phone number of 21-year-old kids working there trying to hustle tips from creepy old men. They’re on conference calls at odd hours talking policy, not conquests. Vivek’s too busy saving the world, literally, with his ideas on everything from biotech to government efficiency. Alicia’s the same—interested in politics because her family instilled values of service, not some emotional fling. Intelligent people fight animal instincts; that’s what Genesis teaches—dominion over nature, including human nature. You don’t yield to the snake. True conservatives live that way, all hours. Democrats often don’t, and when they can’t catch Republicans in real scandals, they invent them, just like the endless failed attacks on Trump—no evidence here either; the Rooster dusted off rumors to fit the narrative.

That’s why the Dead Sea Scrolls resonate so powerfully with me. They represent an awakening: a rebellion against institutional evil, preserved through centuries because the Essenes were clever enough to hide truth in plain sight, yet protected places. The Teacher of Righteousness made judgment calls that shaped righteousness as we know it—unfiltered criticism of wickedness. I despise the kind of people who tear down goodness: the Rooster, Acton’s defenders, Democrats who solicit the down-and-out to unleash chaos while screaming “no judgment.” They yearn for approval through base means because their minds are vacant of higher thoughts. Sex, for many of them, is about filling loneliness or seeking validation, not the sacred trust it should be. Lonely, unfulfilled people project that onto productive leaders like Vivek. But I know better from personal experience. I’ve been on calls with these high-level figures; they talk policy, bills, sponsorships—not “hot 21-year-olds,” they can send naked selfies to at 3 AM.  That’s the difference between those with righteous indignation fighting daily for truth and those attacking to avoid self-reflection.

As we head into the May 5 primary and then the November 2026 election, this race matters. Vivek vs. Acton is a contest of visions: one of excellence, innovation, and Ohio-first results; the other of big-government nostalgia and lockdown mentality. Polls fluctuate—Bowling Green had them nearly tied recently, Emerson and others show Vivek with edges or Acton with slight leads depending on the sample—but the ground is shifting toward Republicans, especially with Trump’s coattails and the union voters who’ve flipped. Acton’s past as the face of COVID overreach haunts her; people remember the wrecked economy, the businesses lost.  Knowing Alicia and her family, and seeing how this hit piece tries to cause collateral damage to good people to prop up a weak candidate, it demands that we apply the wrath of righteousness the scrolls celebrate. Rub their noses in the evil of fabrication, projection, and tearing down the upright so the wicked feel better.

I gave myself that day at the Museum of the Bible because I spend so much energy encouraging people who most of the time don’t deserve it, trying to lift them toward a better life.  It’s usually worth it, but exhausting. The scrolls recharged me with unapologetic judgment against evil. That’s what we need now: call out the Rooster’s pattern of hit pieces rooted in his own unresolved issues, Acton’s inability to escape her record, and the broader Democrat strategy of no judgment on themselves while attacking anyone who might impose it. Vivek and Alicia represent the productive, value-creating side—the capitalists, the church-goers, the constitutionalists who think big thoughts, not just act on instinct. They don’t have room for double lives because they’re too busy building.

In my upcoming book, The Politics of Heaven, which I’m excited to release in 2027, I dig deep into these themes—a treasure hunt through heaven and human history, exploring how spiritual warfare plays out in politics and daily life. The Dead Sea Scrolls are a big part of that, showing how righteousness rebels against the kingdoms of evil, did good things that have impacted many thousands of years in a positive way. This whole episode with the Rooster’s article fits perfectly: an attempt to dirty the best-positioned people to cast judgment, just like the Wicked Priest against the Teacher. But truth prevails, as those scrolls did. I’ve seen enough in my years following politics to know that lies like this eventually flush out. Vivek will win because Ohio voters see the contrast, and people like me will keep shining light on it. Don’t take anything for granted—engagement matters, turnout matters. But I feel good about where things stand because leaders of character rise above smears.

Personally, this fills me with the kind of indignation the Essenes captured so vividly. The world hates righteousness because it exposes darkness. Democrats hate judgment because they don’t want mirrors held up to their choices. The Rooster attacks Alicia and Vivek because good people make him feel small. But we judge bad behavior—that’s our duty. The scrolls teach that, the Bible affirms it, and Western civilization thrives on it. I’m proud to stand with Vivek, with the Lang family, and with anyone fighting that good fight. Ohio deserves better than recycled lockdown architects or rumor-mongers. We deserve governors who create opportunity, not destroy it—like the executive orders Trump hints at that could mint millionaires by unleashing American potential.

What really bothers me about people like the Rooster is how they’ve wrapped themselves in layer after layer of bad conduct—criminal enterprises, drug abuse, alcohol abuse—and then spent the rest of their days trying to bury it by tearing down everyone else. He’s never built a real life for himself: no lasting relationship, no wife, no kids, no one who depends on him in the way that forces a man to grow up and take responsibility. Instead, all he has is this parasitic habit of pointing fingers at others, inventing lies when there’s nothing real to find, all so he doesn’t have to face the wreckage of his own choices. That’s why he gravitates to Democrat politics; it’s the same reason most of them do. They’re drowning in their own bad decisions, and they want government to prop them up, to blur the standards and give them a false sense of value, the way that union jobs once did before it all fell apart. I’ve watched him for years now, and it’s clear he’s the type who can’t stand the sight of good people succeeding because it reminds him how far he’s fallen.

The people in the Statehouse—Republicans especially—have treated him with more decency than he deserves. They gave him the presumption of free speech, let him roam the halls, answered his questions, and never turned their backs on him, even when his “investigative reports” were obviously aimed at dragging everyone down to his level. They let him get away with it for too long, thinking fairness and open dialogue would eventually win out. But fairness only works with people who still have a conscience. With someone like the Rooster, that goodwill just gets weaponized. He abuses the very respect he’s been shown, using it as cover while he tries to smear good families, good candidates, and good public servants who actually build things instead of tearing them down.

At the end of the day, people like him are just bad from the inside out, and they’re what makes the world, politics, and every social interaction worse. They flock to tyrannical, centralized figures like Amy Acton because that kind of top-down control lets them avoid judgment and lets them keep living the same reckless, unaccountable lives. They’re a detriment to the perpetuation of the human race, plain and simple. The only real solution isn’t dragging them into some court or legal loophole—it’s maintaining a steady, unapologetic presence of righteous indignation. They need to feel the full wrath of righteous judgment cast straight at them, not out of cruelty, but because they’ve proven themselves too despicable to be granted the same affiliation and respect given to people of real value. Only then will they lose the free rein to keep casting their weapons against the good people who are actually trying to make things better.

In Columbus, reporters like The Rooster have stepped into this fray to fill a void they desperately seek to hide from the public. He has been somewhat open about his criminal past, struggles with drug and alcohol abuse, and the inability to maintain relationships. This reflects the broader plight of unrighteous Democrats and their fervent support for figures like Amy Acton, collective bargaining agreements, and leftist policies in general. These approaches serve primarily to conceal the fact that many of them have spent significant portions of their lives making poor choices.

They resent and actively hate individuals like future governor Vivek Ramaswamy, Senator George Lang, President Trump, and the broader billionaire class because these people demonstrate what is possible through discipline, innovation, and hard work. While successful Americans build businesses, create wealth, and provide sustainable upward mobility for their families and communities, others squander what little they have on casinos, drugs, and self-destructive behaviors. Rather than emulate what works, they tear down the achievers and advocate for government collectivism—a system where the unrighteous mob rules over the productive through taxation and redistribution. This allows them to confiscate resources from wealth builders and funnel them to those who refuse to build value in their own lives. Through Substack writings and similar platforms, they pretend to be crusaders against crime or corruption, when in reality, they are waging war on anyone who exposes their own shortcomings.

Ultimately, Vivek Ramaswamy and President Trump represent the opposite philosophy: they strive to restore opportunity so that anyone willing to get out of bed and work hard can achieve upward mobility. In the latter part of his life, President Trump has focused on giving back this chance to the American people. The critics, like this Columbus reporter and his ideological allies, know deep down they will never get their own lives in order enough to seize such opportunities. Staring into the mirror each morning reveals their failures, breeding a deep resentment toward those who succeed. This is why they slander the virtuous and push policies designed to drag everyone down to their level of dysfunction.

Footnotes

1.  The Rooster Substack article on Vivek Ramaswamy and Alicia Lang rumors, published April 2026.

2.  NBC News report on Amy Acton’s 2019 police report, April 2026.

3.  Ballotpedia and Wikipedia entries on the 2026 Ohio gubernatorial election, with Amy Acton as the Democratic nominee.

4.  RealClearPolitics and Bowling Green State University polling averages for Ramaswamy vs. Acton, April 2026.

5.  Museum of the Bible official site on Dead Sea Scrolls Exhibition, November 2025–September 2026.

6.  Wikipedia and scholarly sources on Teacher of Righteousness, Essenes, Qumran, and Damascus Document.

7.  Ohio Capital Journal and Dispatch coverage of Acton campaign and fundraising, 2026.

8.  Background on D.J. Byrnes (The Rooster), past legal issues from public records and reporting.

Bibliography

•  The Rooster. “The woman at the center of the Vivek Ramaswamy cheating rumors.” Rooster.info, April 2026. https://www.rooster.info/p/vivek-ramaswamy-alicia-lang-cheating-rumors

•  NBC News. “Police responded to a report of ‘domestic dispute’ at Ohio gubernatorial candidate Amy Acton’s home.” April 11, 2026. https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/2026-election/amy-acton-police-domestic-dispute-ohio-governor-candidate-home-rcna269188

•  Ballotpedia. “Amy Acton.” Candidate profile for Governor of Ohio, 2026. https://ballotpedia.org/Amy_Acton

•  Wikipedia. “2026 Ohio gubernatorial election.” Last updated April 2026. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2026_Ohio_gubernatorial_election

•  RealClearPolitics. “2026 Ohio Governor – Ramaswamy vs. Acton.” Polling data through April 2026. https://www.realclearpolitics.com/epolls/2026/governor/oh/2026_ohio_governor_ramaswamy_vs_acton-8720.html

•  Museum of the Bible. “Dead Sea Scrolls: The Exhibition.” Official page, 2025–2026. https://www.museumofthebible.org/exhibits/dead-sea-scrolls-the-exhibition

•  Wikipedia. “Teacher of Righteousness.” Entry on Dead Sea Scrolls figure. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teacher_of_Righteousness

•  Ohio Capital Journal. “Amy Acton’s team defends 2019 police visit as a ‘simple argument.’” April 15, 2026. https://ohiocapitaljournal.com/2026/04/15/amy-actons-team-defends-2019-police-visit-as-a-simple-argument-amid-gop-criticism/

•  Public records and reporting on D.J. Byrnes legal history (2008 charges and related misdemeanors). Various Ohio court and news archives.

•  The Hill. “Vivek Ramaswamy, Amy Acton nearly tied in Ohio gubernatorial race: Poll.” April 20, 2026. https://thehill.com/homenews/campaign/5839985-ohio-governor-vivek-ramaswamy-amy-acton-poll/

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 Assassin Cole Tomas Allen: Like many Democrats, like John Wilkes Booth, when they can’t win a debate they turn into killers

I never thought I’d be sitting here reflecting on another attempt on President Trump’s life so soon after everything else that’s unfolded in this wild political landscape, but here we are, fresh off the chaos at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner on April 25, 2026, where a 31-year-old Democrat named Cole Tomas Allen from Torrance, California, decided to storm the security line at the Washington Hilton with multiple guns and knives, firing shots in a desperate bid to get close enough to the president to do the unthinkable. I hate to say it, but I saw this coming in the broader sense—not the specifics of this lone actor, but the pattern of rage and violence that keeps bubbling up from the same ideological corners that have targeted Republican leaders for generations. As someone who was just at the White House with my wife a few weeks ago, experiencing the layers of security firsthand—the rope barriers, the lengthy check-in processes, the offsite staging down Connecticut Avenue a mile and a half or two miles away that forces the president into inconvenient travel for events like this—I couldn’t help but connect the dots immediately when the news broke. The security is extensive, as it should be, but it’s not foolproof against someone willing to die in those first few chaotic seconds of a rush, and that’s exactly what Allen tried to pull off. He charged the barricades, shots rang out, a Secret Service officer took a hit to the chest but thankfully had no permanent damage and was released from the hospital later, and the whole thing ended with Allen tackled and wrestled to the ground without anyone else getting hurt. Trump, ever the fighter, wanted to go back in and continue the dinner, which I totally agree with—it’s a shame they had to evacuate and crawl off the stage in that embarrassing scramble, all because some loser with a grudge thought he could rewrite history with a bullet. But what fascinates me, and what I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since, is how this fits into a much larger, darker thread running through American history, one that stretches back to Abraham Lincoln and the very founding fractures of our republic. I’ve never been one to shy away from calling things what they are, and this wasn’t some random act of madness; it was the latest chapter in a strategy of storming the line when elections and arguments fail, and it’s a Democrat thing through and through, whether they admit it or not.

Let me back up a bit and share what I saw myself, because I was physically in Washington, D.C., not long before this all occurred, and it gave me a front-row perspective that makes the whole incident hit different. My wife and I spent several hours at the White House after touring it, soaking in the people’s house as it’s meant to be, and then we wandered the city doing other things. One of the stops my wife insisted on was Ford’s Theatre, just a few blocks from the White House on 10th Street, near the FBI building, the Department of Justice, and the Smithsonian. It’s in that little historic sector off Pennsylvania Avenue, and I’ve talked to plenty of frequent D.C. visitors who’ve never bothered to go there, which I find astonishing—if you live or work in the capital, why wouldn’t you make the pilgrimage to the spot where a president was assassinated? The day we visited, they were still running plays there—they had a production of 1776 on the schedule—but before the evening show, they let visitors in for a historic tour. I stood right at the box where Lincoln was shot, and downstairs in the basement museum, there’s this incredibly detailed exhibit on everything leading up to and after the assassination. I bought a stack of books—two from NASA engineers who created a portable AC unit that’s making old expensive models obsolete, plus a whole bunch more on the Lincoln era—and they were surprisingly good reads. The museum staff had a passionate member of the historic preservation society who gave a half-hour-to-45-minute talk on stage about the theater, John Wilkes Booth, and Lincoln at the time, and it was riveting. We geeked out hard on the historical preservation side of it, my wife and I, because we love that kind of deep dive into how events shape nations. Across the street, the house where Lincoln died is preserved exactly as it was, with the bed still set up, the waiting room where his wife sat through the night, and then an adjacent building turned into a multi-story museum with elevators and creative floor knockouts to display artifacts, including a three-story stack of every book ever written about Lincoln. It puts into perspective just how pivotal he was, how the Republican Party was born to defeat slavery under his leadership, and how the forces arrayed against him—Democrats of the day, essentially the party of the South and slavery—couldn’t accept the Civil War’s outcome.

That visit stayed with me, and when I heard about Cole Tomas Allen’s rush on the Hilton security, it felt like history repeating itself most chillingly. John Wilkes Booth was an actor, a celebrity of his time, a major supporter of slavery who hated the emerging Republican Party and the way Lincoln had led the Union to victory. Just days after Lee’s surrender, with Lincoln reelected and celebrating, Booth used his knowledge of Ford’s Theatre to slip into the private box, shoot Lincoln in the back of the head, jump to the stage, breaking his leg, and flee through the back. The search that followed was intense, and Booth was eventually cornered and killed. But the characteristics? The same righteous fury, the same belief that the political opposition had to be destroyed physically because they couldn’t be beaten at the ballot box or in debate. Booth wasn’t some outlier; he embodied the Democrat rage of the era against a Republican president who dared to end their way of life. Lincoln had done nothing but win the war fair and square, preserve the Union, and free the slaves, yet the opposition framed it as provocation. Sound familiar? Fast-forward to today, and you have Cole Tomas Allen, a mechanical engineer and computer scientist by training, an independent game developer, a part-time teacher who was even named Teacher of the Month in 2024 at a tutoring company in Torrance, flying across the country to storm a security checkpoint at an event where Trump was speaking. He had a room at the Hilton, multiple weapons, and the clear intention to get into that ballroom and take his shot before anyone could react. Preliminary reports note a small political donation to a PAC supporting Kamala Harris in 2024, and while he’s described as a lone wolf with no confirmed party registration, the pattern fits: Democrat-aligned frustration boiling over into violence when rhetoric and elections don’t deliver the outcome they want. The media and left-leaning voices immediately tried to flip the script, blaming Trump’s “rhetoric” for making people upset, as if his push to make America great again is the real crime. It’s the same framing they used after the Alex Jones Sandy Hook saga, where free speech got twisted into causing harm, setting precedents to silence opposition. And after the dinner was evacuated, there was a video of invited reporters—those paragons of lowlife character—stealing bottles of wine to take home, proving the event’s attendees weren’t exactly above reproach themselves.

To really grasp why this keeps happening, I think you have to zoom out and look at the full list of presidential assassins and would-be assassins throughout our history. It’s not a short roster, and when you examine the motives, the ideologies, and the political leanings, a disturbing trend emerges that the mainstream narrative loves to ignore or downplay. Start with the successful ones: Lincoln in 1865 by John Wilkes Booth, a pro-Confederate actor driven by Southern Democrat sympathies against the Republican who crushed slavery and the rebellion. Then, in 1881, James Garfield was shot by Charles Guiteau, a delusional office-seeker who claimed divine inspiration but whose act came amid the spoils system battles that Democrats often exploited. William McKinley in 1901 by Leon Czolgosz, an anarchist influenced by radical left-wing thought who saw the president as a symbol of capitalist oppression. John F. Kennedy in 1963 by Lee Harvey Oswald, a self-avowed Marxist who defected to the Soviet Union and had deep ties to communist and pro-Castro groups—hardly a right-winger. Those are the four who died in office from assassins’ bullets, and already you see a pattern leaning toward radical left or anti-Republican forces.

But the attempts are where it gets even more telling, especially when you layer in the modern era and the repeated targeting of Donald Trump. There was Andrew Jackson in 1835, targeted by Richard Lawrence, who blamed the president for personal financial woes tied to Democratic Party infighting, though he was acquitted on insanity grounds. Theodore Roosevelt, in 1912, was shot by John Schrank, a saloonkeeper obsessed with third-term politics, but whose act disrupted a progressive Republican campaign. Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1933 by Giuseppe Zangara, an Italian immigrant anarchist who hated “capitalists” and originally aimed at the mayor of Chicago, but killed the mayor instead when FDR’s motorcade shifted. Harry Truman in 1950 by Oscar Collazo and Griselio Torresola, Puerto Rican nationalists with left-leaning independence motives who tried to storm Blair House. Gerald Ford faced two attempts in 1975: first by Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme, a Charles Manson follower tied to radical environmental and left-wing cults, who pointed a gun at him in Sacramento; then by Sara Jane Moore, a radical leftist and associate of the Symbionese Liberation Army who fired shots in San Francisco. Ronald Reagan in 1981 by John Hinckley Jr., whose obsession was more personal but occurred amid a wave of anti-Republican sentiment. George W. Bush had plots against him involving various radicals. Barack Obama faced threats from white supremacists and others, but the volume pales compared to what Republicans endure. And then there is Trump; the list is staggering even before this latest one. In 2016, there were multiple threats and plots during the campaign. The 2024 Butler, Pennsylvania rally attempt by Thomas Matthew Crooks, a 20-year-old who fired from a rooftop, grazing Trump’s ear before being taken out by the Secret Service. Another incident occurred in Florida at Trump International Golf Club, where a man with a rifle was spotted near the perimeter. Now, this 2026 incident with Allen at the Correspondents’ Dinner, charging the line like Booth slipping into the theater box. These aren’t isolated; they’re symptoms of a side that resorts to bullets when ballots fail.

What strikes me most, having walked the very floors where Lincoln breathed his last and stood at that preserved box at Ford’s Theatre, is how the psychology hasn’t changed. His hatred of Lincoln’s policies radicalized Booth, his support for slavery, and his view that Republicans were destroying the Southern way of life. He plotted meticulously, using his insider knowledge as an actor to get close. Allen, from what’s emerging, flew in from California, checked into the very hotel hosting the event, and made his move in those critical seconds when security might be distracted. The media reaction was predictable: some outlets and commentators immediately pivoted to “Trump’s rhetoric provoked this,” echoing the post-event spin that it’s somehow the president’s fault for pushing back against globalism, terrorism, and the erosion of American values. They said the same about Lincoln—don’t provoke the South, let them keep their slaves, mind your own business. It’s the same gaslighting: if conservatives challenge the status quo, any violence that follows is on us. But I’ve studied this enough, and I’ve written extensively about the spiritual dimension behind it all, because this isn’t just politics; it’s a battle for the soul of the nation. In my upcoming book, The Politics of Heaven, which dives deep into the conspiracies plotting against God’s creation and the biblical foundations of true liberty, I lay out the receipts on how these movements—Marxist persuasions that gained traction in the mid-1800s and wormed into American soil—defend their ground with threats and acts of violence when ideas fail. Lincoln loved his Bible; Trump has found a genuine relationship with God amid his political fights. The Republican Party, born to end slavery and preserve the constitutional order, stands as a bulwark, and that’s why it draws the fire. People like Booth or Allen don’t just wake up one day and decide to kill; they’re vulnerable to the demon whispers that radicalize through hatred, the kind festering in elements of the Democrat machine where debate gets shut down, voices get canceled, and when that fails, the garden hose of violence gets turned on full blast.

I spent way more time at Ford’s Theatre than I expected because the exhibit was so well done—it’s not some dusty relic but a living museum with creative displays, like the stacked books soaring three stories high, symbolizing Lincoln’s enduring legacy. The staff noticed my intense interest, and we struck up conversations; they’re passionate preservers of history, serving everybody regardless of politics, but you could sense the hush around the violence angle. They know the truth—that the same evil that possessed Booth is at work today—but nobody wants to “set off” the other side or invite more backlash. It’s pathetic, really, this self-censorship where we’re told not to hurt Democrat feelings lest they unleash more of what they’ve always done. Across from the theater, the Petersen House, where Lincoln died, is equally powerful, with the bed and rooms preserved, and the expanded museum next door telling the full story of the search and cultural impact. My wife and I relished every minute because we value what the Republican Party stands for: anti-slavery roots, freedom’s perpetuation, the defense of God-given rights articulated in the Constitution and the Bible. We left with armfuls of books and a deeper appreciation, but also a resolve not to ignore the pattern anymore.

This latest attempt with Cole Tomas Allen underscores why events like the Correspondents’ Dinner can’t keep happening off-site in unsecured hotels. The White House is the people’s house, and it deserves a big, beautiful ballroom right on the grounds under the tightest security imaginable. No more driving all over town, exposing the president and officials to these risks. Trump’s reaction—wanting to push through and continue—shows the spirit we need. The low character on display afterward, with reporters pilfering wine while a would-be assassin was still being processed, just highlights the decadence. And the irony of Democrats and media claiming Trump caused this by “poking everyone in the eye” is rich; it’s the exact argument used against Lincoln for ending slavery. If you don’t want violence, stop defending indefensible positions like radical globalism or anti-American sentiment. The answer isn’t more policy tweaks; it’s confronting the spiritual warfare at the root, the kind I explore in The Politics of Heaven, with detailed explanations of how these hatreds possess people and why Republicans like Lincoln and Trump become targets. I’ve got the receipts in that book because too many conversations end with “how can you say that?”—well, here’s how, backed by history, facts, and faith.

Reflecting on my trip to D.C.—the White House shirt I picked up, the Ford’s Theatre geek-out with my wife, the realization that this city under Republican leadership feels vibrant and alive—I’m more convinced than ever that we learn from these tragedies by accelerating the ballroom project and calling out the pattern plainly. Killer democrats don’t represent every member of the party, but their movement has a historical strain of violence when cornered, from Booth to Allen and the attempts in between. It’s not new; it’s persistent. We preserve freedom not by cowering but by building stronger, speaking truth, and understanding the spiritual battle. The show goes on at Ford’s Theatre, plays still performed where history was made, and America will endure the same way—as long as we remember the lessons from 10th Street and apply them to today’s threats. The museum there could take a week to absorb fully, and every American should visit; it’s not just history, it’s a warning and a call to vigilance.

Footnotes:

[Footnote 1: Details on the April 25, 2026, incident drawn from contemporaneous reports, including Al Jazeera, The Times, Time magazine, and NBC Los Angeles coverage confirming Cole Tomas Allen’s identity, background, actions, and charges.]

[Footnote 2: Ford’s Theatre and Petersen House descriptions based on personal observations and standard historic site information from the National Park Service.]

[Footnote 3: List of presidential assassination attempts compiled from historical records, including those documented in sources like the U.S. Secret Service historical overviews and books such as The Presidents and the Assassins by Ronald J. Sterba.]

[Footnote 4: Political affiliations and motives of assassins cross-referenced with biographical accounts; e.g., Booth’s Confederate ties in American Brutus by Michael W. Kauffman.]

[Footnote 5: Upcoming book reference to The Politics of Heaven by the author, forthcoming, with a full analysis of spiritual and political conspiracies.]

Bibliography:

•  Kauffman, Michael W. American Brutus: John Wilkes Booth and the Lincoln Conspiracies. Random House, 2004.

•  Sterba, Ronald J. The Presidents and the Assassins: From Lincoln to Kennedy and Beyond. CreateSpace, 2015.

•  National Park Service. Ford’s Theatre Official Guide. U.S. Department of the Interior.

•  Various news reports on Cole Thomas Allen incident: Al Jazeera (April 26, 2026), The Times (April 26, 2026), Time (April 26, 2026), Washington Post live updates.

•  Hoffman, Rich. The Gunfight Guide to Business, prior edition.

•  Lincoln assassination primary sources: The Assassination of Abraham Lincoln by various compiled eyewitness accounts, Library of Congress archives.

•  Trump assassination attempt histories: Official Secret Service reports and public records from 2024-2026 incidents.

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.