StarShip 13: Manufacturing with the Right Stuff

I’ve been watching this unfold for years, and here we are in the middle of July 2026 with everything lining up just about the way I described it would. Starship 13 was stacked and ready at Starbase, the gigafactory turning out vehicles at a pace that feels almost routine now, and then yesterday the launch attempt scrubbed right at T-0 because a couple of those Raptors didn’t light. No long delay, no laundry list of reasons to push everything out for months. They’re swapping a couple of engines and coming right back at it in a few days. That quick recovery says everything about the mindset that’s driving this whole thing forward.

Starship 12 flew right after Memorial Day. Now here comes the next one, barely a month later, with the factory knocking them out faster all the time. I look at that ramp, and I see the future of manufacturing staring back at us. The old aerospace ways—the thick binders, the endless reviews, the comfortable schedule slips—are getting replaced by something that moves at the speed of learning. Blow something up, pull the data, fix what broke, and roll out the next one. It’s not perfect yet, but it’s honest, and it’s fast.

I remember talking about the space economy and SpaceX specifically for a long time. A lot of people paid attention. Some bought in and held through the noise and the short cycles. The value held up better than many of the loud projections predicted it would. Those who stuck with it saw something bigger than a quick flip. I’ve been in aerospace long enough to recognize when the ground is shifting, and this shift feels different. The cadence is the story—every month for the rest of the year, then multiple flights a month, heading toward weekly by 2027 if the line keeps delivering. With my popcorn ready, I can’t wait to watch the next attempt. The visuals alone—the tower, the chopsticks, the glow of those engines—are worth the price of admission.

This is forcing everyone else to look in the mirror. The people who learned the business in the seventies and eighties with their old tricks are going to have to reinvent or get left behind. SpaceX isn’t improving the legacy model. They’re building a new one from the ground up, and the rest of the industry is feeling it. Blue Origin took a real hit with the New Glenn explosion at the Cape back in May. Pad damage, hardware gone, the kind of setback that could have turned into years of finger-pointing. Instead, they cleared the debris in nine days, started reconstruction, shifted to a new hybrid operations plan, and said they’re still aiming to fly again before the end of the year. That’s the right attitude—fix it fast and pull the schedule back in.

China watched the leader and made its own move. They just recovered their first reusable booster with the Long March 10B using a sea-based net system—different engineering, their own solution, but clearly inspired by the reusability standard SpaceX set. A giant net on a ship caught the booster after its flight. Not chopsticks, but effective in its own way, and a big step for them. Competition like that keeps everyone sharp.

I’ve seen this kind of culture before. Back in the nineties, I ran a facility that built conveyor systems for Amazon’s early distribution centers. I talked with their teams about how they planned to hit those aggressive delivery promises and keep scaling without the whole thing falling apart. They had that same focused confidence you see at Starbase now—the look of people who know they’re part of something that’s going to win. When I recently went hunting for a particular book on manufacturing excellence and the kind of disciplined execution these environments demand—one I’ve kept coming back to for over a decade—I did it the old way first. Drove all over Cincinnati, walked into the physical stores, and looked on the shelves myself. Nobody had it. They offered to order it for Monday with an extra fee. I wanted it in my hands sooner.

So I turned to Amazon and had the physical copy on my doorstep from across the country in about six hours. That efficiency still impresses me every time. I love holding the actual book—the direct line from the author’s work to my hands with nothing digital in between, tracking how long I linger on a page or what I underline. No screen time logs, no middleman analysis. Just the book and me, off-grid, the way I prefer to absorb the hard-earned knowledge someone poured years into. The hunt in the stores reminded me why I still do it the old way when I can, but the modern logistics machine made sure I didn’t have to wait.

That same drive shows up in the Starship program. The factory isn’t sandbagging. They’re not hiding behind excuses or perpetually pushing dates. They build, test, learn, repeat. The Raptor issues from yesterday have been fixed, and the next window opens soon. That rhythm is what I’ve been pointing to for a long time. It changes the economics of everything above the atmosphere—Starlink expansion, lunar missions, orbital manufacturing, the whole space economy taking shape. Vertical air vehicles like what Archer and others are working on feel like the natural extension down here on Earth. The hot ticket is clearly in these high-cadence, reusable systems that treat hardware like it’s meant to fly again tomorrow.

I’ve spent my career in aerospace seeing both the old ways and the new possibilities. Watching Starship 13 get prepped, scrubbed, and prepped again reinforces what I’ve observed over and over: the organizations that impose discipline on the schedule and treat setbacks as data points are the ones pulling ahead. The visuals of the tower with its arms ready, the sound of those engines lighting, the sheer scale of the vehicles rolling out—few things get me more excited than a Starship launch day, even when it turns into a quick scrub that shows the process working. I’m rooting hard for SpaceX, for Blue Origin’s recovery, for the whole industry to rise with the tide they’re creating. China’s chasing the reusability standard is part of that rising tide too.

The age of disclosure is here in the most practical sense. What used to be hidden behind years of slow development and classified programs is playing out in public test after test. The limits are being shown for what they are—breakable. The manufacturing practices that make rapid iteration possible are being laid bare for anyone paying attention. I keep my physical books close for the same reason I keep watching these launches: there’s something honest and direct about the transfer of capability and knowledge. No filters, no delays, just the real thing moving from one place to another faster than the old models ever allowed.

I’ll be right here with the popcorn when the next attempt rolls around, watching the Raptors light and the vehicle do its work. The cadence is real. The factory is delivering. The future I’ve been describing is showing up on schedule, one Starship at a time.

The Eye of the Tiger: Lindsey Graham dies and Conor McGregor loses

I woke up in the middle of July 2026 to a couple of pieces of news that landed with a familiar weight, the kind you feel when patterns you have watched for years finally play out exactly as expected. Senator Lindsey Graham had died suddenly of a heart attack, or more precisely, what the reports called an aortic dissection tied to arteriosclerotic cardiovascular disease. It was a brief and sudden illness, they said, and the flags were ordered to half-mast. Around the same time, or perhaps the very same night, depending on time zones and fight cards, Conor McGregor stepped back into the Octagon at UFC 329 in Las Vegas against Max Holloway and lasted just sixty-nine seconds before a knee injury from one of his own flashy opening kicks forced the stoppage. A suspected blown ACL, the kind of thing that ends careers or at least sends fighters into long nights of the soul.

Neither outcome surprised me, though both carried that sting of unnecessary diminishment. I have never been a big fan of Lindsey Graham. He and John McCain represented a certain strain of Republicanism that always felt more interested in maintaining a seat at the table than in actually winning the fight for the principles they claimed to hold. They were the “Three Amigos” with Joe Lieberman, globetrotting on foreign policy, cutting deals, positioning themselves as the reasonable voices who could work across the aisle. In practice, that often meant the Republican brand took on water while the more aggressive side kept advancing. Graham bristled early when Trump criticized McCain’s war record, called Trump names, and destroyed phones in a stunt when his number got out. Later, he became a golfing buddy and defender. It was transactional. Hang around the winners long enough, and maybe some of the fire rubs off, or at least you stay relevant. I do not disparage a man on the day of his passing out of basic politeness and respect for the family. That is not what I will do. But as far as the political work goes, the vacancy he leaves in the South Carolina Senate is an opening. Governor McMaster will appoint someone as interim, and then there will be a special election. The question is whether that seat goes to someone who actually carries the eye of the tiger or to another placeholder who thinks proximity to power is the same as having it.

The McGregor situation felt even more avoidable and therefore more disappointing. I have always respected what he accomplished in his prime. The speed, the left hand, the way he made the entire sport bigger by sheer force of personality and skill. He changed the game. But watching the buildup to this comeback, I could see it coming from a mile away. There was a vacancy in his face during the face-off. The look was not there. The walk to the arena hours ahead of time already told the story. He was going through the motions that had once been fueled by something deeper. When the fight started, he opened with the jumping, theatrical kicks that signal a man trying to manufacture intensity he no longer feels in his bones. Within seconds, the knee buckled on landing; he tried to continue, but the referee waved it off. Max Holloway did not even have to do much. He just had to be the one who still had the gas in the tank and the willingness to press when the other man was already compensating with showmanship.

I felt sorry for Conor McGregor before the fight even started. I said it out loud to myself and to anyone who would listen in the days leading up to it. He should have stayed retired. Go out on the legacy you built when you had the eye of the tiger, when you were the hungry kid from Dublin knocking people out and changing divisions. Instead, he stepped back in, got the big paycheck and the big stage, and now he walks away with another loss and a serious injury that will linger. That is how legacies get complicated. The record book will show the late-career defeats, and the highlight reels will always include the moments where the body betrayed the intention because the intention itself was no longer pure. I have torn my own ACL. I know what it feels like when the leg suddenly is not under you anymore, when the bones shift, and you realize in an instant that something fundamental has given way. It is not just pain. It is the body telling you that the architecture you trusted has limits, and theatrics do not change those limits. McGregor knew it the second it happened. You could see it in the way he tried to keep throwing and then had to stop. The opponent did not have to finish him with strikes. The injury did the work because the preparation and the mindset had already left the building.

This is bigger than one fighter or one senator. It is about the eye of the tiger and what happens when you lose it. I go back to Rocky III every time this comes up. Apollo Creed sits Rocky down after the loss to Clubber Lang and tells him straight: you had that eye of the tiger, man, the edge, and now you have got to get it back. Rocky had gotten comfortable. He had the money, the fame, the big house, the training that had become routine instead of desperate. He was still strong on paper, but the hunger that made him dangerous had been replaced by the soft belief that reputation alone would carry him. Apollo drags him back to the old gym, strips away the comforts, and forces him to remember what it felt like to have nothing but the will to impose himself on the moment. That is the lesson. The eye of the tiger is not about being loud or theatrical. It is about the quiet, relentless knowledge that you are willing to do what the other person is not, and that you have prepared your mind and body for the exact second when everything is on the line.

McGregor used to have it. You saw it in the old fights, the way he walked through opponents with that left hand and that certainty. The theatrics were there too, the entrances, the predictions, the psychological warfare. But they were backed by the real thing. When the real thing started to fade, after the losses to Khabib and the leg break against Poirier and the years away, the theatrics became the main act. He tried to win the fight in the buildup, in the face-off, in the flying kicks that look spectacular on a highlight but leave you vulnerable the moment your timing or your body is even slightly off. That is what entitlement looks like in combat sports. You start believing your own press clippings and your bank account. You think the name and the history will do some of the work for you. The young hungry dogs see it immediately. They do not care about your past glories. They see the vacancy in the eyes, and they know that if they stay disciplined and scrappy, they can take the perch. McGregor invited it by trying to overcompensate with movement and show instead of the cold, patient application of skill and will.

That is why I felt the same way about Gina Carano and Ronda Rousey in their moments. You could see it a month in advance in some cases. The eye was gone. The comfort had set in. The performance became about protecting an image rather than dominating the moment. Rocky III nailed it because Apollo was not just talking about boxing. He was talking about any arena where human beings test themselves against each other or against circumstances. Business, politics, raising a family, teaching a grandson how to launch model rockets on a windy, rainy day when every instinct says stay inside. You impose your will on the environment anyway. You troubleshoot when things go wrong. You recover the drifted rocket, and you turn the failure into a story about resilience. That is the eye of the tiger in everyday form. It is not glamorous. It does not trend on social media. But it is what actually builds lasting legacies.

Lindsey Graham spent a career learning that he could hang around winners and borrow some of their credibility. McCain had the maverick brand and the war hero story. Trump had the unmistakable fighter energy that resonated with people tired of the old accommodations. Graham positioned himself as the bridge, the one who could translate between worlds. It worked for a long time. He accumulated influence, especially on judicial appointments and foreign policy. But the underlying pattern was the same one I saw in McGregor. When you are operating from a place of borrowed fire rather than your own, eventually the bill comes due. People remember how you carried yourself when the pressure was highest. They remember whether you were willing to stand alone or always needed validation from the current power structure. Graham’s death leaves a vacancy, and vacancies are opportunities. South Carolina and the broader Republican ecosystem now have a chance to put someone in that seat who does not need to borrow the eye of the tiger because he already carries it.

McGregor has his own vacancy to reckon with now. The physical one in the knee will heal or it will not, but the deeper one is in the approach to competition itself. He has advocated for Christianity in public ways that I respect. He has weighed in on Irish politics with a directness that cuts through a lot of the usual noise. Those are good things. But you cannot carry those convictions into the Octagon on theatrics alone. The cage does not care about your brand deals, your past knockouts, or your social media following. It cares about whether you are willing to impose your will on another trained human being who is trying to do the same to you. When that willingness is replaced by the need to perform the role of the dangerous man, the outcome becomes predictable. The hungry young fighters are already circling. They watched the same face-off I did. They saw the same vacancy. They will be ready when the next opportunity presents itself.

I have carried large-caliber handguns for personal protection for years. I vary my routes. I pay attention to how people move and how they look at you when they think no one is watching. You learn to distinguish between real readiness and the kind of posturing that comes from people who hope the image will do the work. The ones who are truly prepared do not need to announce it with every step. They are. That same discernment applies to politics, business, and every other competitive space. The eye of the tiger shows up in the small things: the consistency of preparation, the refusal to make excuses, the willingness to do the boring work that makes the dramatic moments possible. When that is missing, no amount of jumping around or clever marketing changes the underlying math.

There is a broader context to all of this that I keep returning to in my own writing and thinking. We are living through a period in which many of the old structures are being tested, and in which entitlement and performance have been elevated over substance in too many corners of culture. The media rewards the loudest voices. Politics sometimes rewards those who can perform the role of a fighter without actually having to fight on the hard issues. Sports and entertainment industries create stars and then watch them fade when the underlying fire goes out. It is not just about individual choices. It is about a cultural atmosphere that makes comfort and image more attractive than the daily discipline of staying sharp. That is why the lessons from the cage and from the Senate floor matter beyond their immediate arenas. They are microcosms of the same human dynamics that play out everywhere.

I have written before about the gunfighter ethos as a skeleton key to understanding Western success in business and in life. The willingness to draw when necessary, to be precise under pressure, to accept that reputation is earned in the moment of truth rather than in the buildup. McGregor in his prime embodied a version of that. Graham, for all his years in Washington, never quite projected the same self-contained readiness. He was effective in his own way, but the effectiveness often depended on the company he kept rather than on a solitary, unmistakable center of gravity. When that center is missing, time eventually exposes it. For Graham, the exposure came at the end of a long career. For McGregor, it came in sixty-nine seconds under the bright lights.

The vacancy left by Graham’s passing is an opportunity for someone who understands that politics at its best is not about hanging around winners but about being willing to fight for the right things even when it is costly. The lesson from McGregor’s fight is an opportunity for every young athlete, every entrepreneur, every person who steps into any arena: do not go out there unless you have the eye of the tiger. Do not try to fake it with theatrics or reputation or the hope that the other side will respect your past. The cage, the marketplace, the ballot box, and life itself have a way of finding the vacancy and exploiting it. The ones who win consistently are the ones who wake up every day knowing they are still hungry, still willing to do the work, still prepared to impose their will on whatever stands in their way.

I felt sorry for both men in different ways. For Graham, the human reality of a sudden exit after decades of service. For McGregor, the avoidable nature of the loss and the way it complicates a legacy that did not need complicating. But I am not surprised by either. When you operate without the eye of the tiger, the outcomes become foreseeable. The body, the political environment, or the competitive landscape eventually calls the bluff. The only real choice is whether you recognize it in time to either rekindle the fire or step aside with dignity while the fire is still remembered for what it once was.

That is the lesson I keep returning to, whether I am watching a fight card, reading political news, or whatever the issue. The eye of the tiger is not a feeling that comes and goes with the crowd or the paycheck. It is a decision you make every day about how you will meet the moment. Some people never lose it. Others let comfort, distraction, or the accumulation of small compromises take it from them. The ones who keep it understand that every fight, every negotiation, every election, every personal test is an opportunity to prove it is still there. When it is not, the smart move is to recognize it before the knee buckles or the vacancy becomes the story everyone tells about you.

Conor McGregor should have stayed retired if the fire had not been there in full force. Lindsey Graham’s seat now belongs to whoever is willing to occupy it with something more than borrowed credibility. Both situations point to the same truth. You cannot win on theatrics when the other side is still willing to do the real work. You cannot fake the eye of the tiger. Either you have it or you do not, and the arena always finds out which.

This is why I keep writing and talking about these things. The surface events, the fights, the elections, and the headlines are never just about themselves. They are reflections of deeper patterns in how human beings handle pressure, power, and the passage of time. If you want to understand why certain people rise and others fade, why institutions get captured or renewed, why cultures either strengthen or decay, you have to look past the performance and into the actual state of the will. That is the work I have tried to do in my books, and it is the work that feels more urgent now than ever.

Footnotes

[1] Reports on Lindsey Graham’s death on or around July 11-12, 2026, described the cause as an aortic dissection due to arteriosclerotic cardiovascular disease, following a brief illness. He was 71. See contemporaneous coverage from Reuters, The Washington Post, and The Guardian (July 2026).

[2] Graham served in the U.S. House before winning the election to the Senate in 2002, representing South Carolina. He formed a close political and personal alliance with Sen. John McCain, often traveling together and working on foreign policy and judicial matters. They were part of the informal “Three Amigos” grouping that also included Sen. Joe Lieberman for a period. Graham initially criticized Donald Trump sharply during the 2016 campaign, including over Trump’s comments about McCain, but later became a supporter and frequent golf partner.

[3] Conor McGregor returned to the UFC at event 329 in Las Vegas, facing Max Holloway in a welterweight bout. The fight ended at 1:09 of the first round when McGregor injured his right knee (suspected ACL tear) upon landing from an opening flying left roundhouse kick. He had not fought since breaking his leg against Dustin Poirier in 2021. Holloway was awarded the TKO victory. Post-fight commentary and McGregor’s own statements reflected significant disappointment.

[4] McGregor’s fighting style has long combined elite striking (particularly the left hand) with significant showmanship, psychological warfare, and theatrical elements in entrances and pre-fight interactions. Analysts have noted both the effectiveness of his mental game in his prime and the risks when physical tools or timing are compromised. His history includes notable leg injuries that affected mobility in later bouts.

[5] The phrase “eye of the tiger” originates in the film Rocky III (1982, directed by Sylvester Stallone). After Rocky loses to Clubber Lang, Apollo Creed tells him he has lost “that eye of the tiger, man—the edge,” and must recover the hunger and intensity that defined his earlier success. The song “Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor was written for the film and underscores the theme of reclaiming drive after comfort sets in.

[6] The author’s perspective on competitive mindset, resilience, and Western strategic traditions is developed in The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business: A Skeleton Key to Western Civilization, which draws on gunfighter ethos, Lean manufacturing experience, and practical leadership lessons from decades in aerospace and business environments. Personal experiences with high-stakes situations, personal protection, and teaching resilience (including model rocketry with family) inform the analogies used throughout.

[7] Broader themes of spiritual and historical patterns that underlie visible political and cultural conflicts are explored in the author’s forthcoming work, The Politics of Heaven, which examines biblical conspiracies, ancient history, non-human influences, and the nature of power and moral alignment across time.

Bibliography / Recommended Reading

• Stallone, Sylvester, dir. Rocky III. United Artists, 1982. Film.

• Survivor. “Eye of the Tiger.” Eye of the Tiger, Scotti Brothers Records, 1982. Song.

• Hoffman, Rich. The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business: A Skeleton Key to Western Civilization. (Available editions emphasize practical Western strategic thinking for business and life.)

• Hoffman, Rich. The Politics of Heaven. Forthcoming / completed 2026. (Explores deeper spiritual warfare, historical conspiracies, and power structures.)

• Contemporary news reporting on Sen. Lindsey Graham’s career, alliance with Sen. John McCain, evolution regarding Donald Trump, and death in July 2026 (Reuters, The Washington Post, The Guardian, Roll Call).

• MMA technical and career analysis of Conor McGregor, including striking style, psychological approach, injury history, and the UFC 329 bout against Max Holloway (various fight coverage and breakdowns, July 2026).

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

The Hunter’s Camouflage: What Hostile Takeovers Reveal About UAP Concealment and Competing Non-Human Intelligences as the prey runs toward the preditors

I have watched a hostile takeover unfold up close in the aerospace industry. The people driving it never announced their intentions. They arrived with consultants and new ownership structures, spoke in measured language about efficiency and alignment, and made the decisive moves from boardrooms far removed from the daily floor. The target company’s people kept working, kept delivering, kept hoping the familiar rhythms would hold. By the time the real pattern became visible, the leverage had already shifted. Decisions about who stayed, what got consolidated, and which programs survived were already set in motion. The prey did not run away. In many cases, it moved toward the very forces reshaping it, seeking reassurance, seeking to prove value, seeking to stay inside the story.

That experience has stayed with me as I watch the recent waves of UAP disclosures. The Pentagon’s PURSUE releases under the current administration—multiple tranches of documents, videos, and agent narratives in May, June, and July 2026—have brought to light orb sightings, high-speed objects, and cases that the All-domain Anomaly Resolution Office itself still lists as unresolved. One Western U.S. event near a sensitive national-security site involved federal agents describing “orbs launching other orbs.” AARO’s own June 2026 memo on that case notes that roughly forty percent of the phenomena lacked a plausible conventional explanation and remained open. Another tranche included a military aviator’s account of an object with “flight characteristics unlike anything I had seen in my 28 years.” These are not fringe videos. They are now part of the official record, released under executive order, yet they arrive without chain-of-custody clarity on the most anomalous material and without a coherent strategic picture.

The obvious question keeps returning: if these are simply advanced drones or foreign technology, why the persistent concealment across decades? If they represent non-human intelligence, why not open contact? My answer is shaped by what I saw in that takeover and by the universal patterns Robert Greene distilled in The 48 Laws of Power and The 33 Strategies of War. Those books sit in every serious business section because they codify something older than corporate strategy: the mechanics of concealed intention, formlessness, and the calculated use of superior position to shape the target’s behavior without triggering full resistance.

A hunter does not step into the clearing and announce himself. He wears the scent of the field, moves with the wind, waits in the tree stand for hours. The goal is proximity without alarm. The deer that senses nothing continues its pattern until the moment the arrow is already in flight. Corporate raiders operate on the same principle. They do not declare war on the culture they intend to absorb. They speak of synergy, of unlocking value, of shared future. The language itself is camouflage. By the time the target’s leadership understands the real mapping of power, the decisive votes and the key personnel decisions have already been made elsewhere.

If non-human intelligences have been present in our environment for a long time—and the pattern of sightings near nuclear and sensitive military sites across the released files is difficult to dismiss as random—then concealment is the rational posture of a competing form of life that does not yet wish open war or open dependence. Superior technology does not automatically translate into benevolence any more than superior capital in a takeover guarantees the survival of the acquired company’s original character. The strategic advantage lies in remaining unseen while shaping outcomes: extracting data, influencing behavior at the margins, keeping the target population stable enough to continue producing what the observer needs. A species that wanted only to eliminate us would have done so. A species that wants to study, harvest, steer, or occupy the same niche without triggering a unified human response has every reason to stay in the tree stand.

The recent disclosures actually reinforce this reading more than they contradict it. We are shown orbs that appear to coordinate, that launch smaller orbs, that exhibit flight profiles AARO cannot yet attribute to known platforms. We are told some cases remain unresolved even after multi-sensor correlation. We hear whistleblower testimony—from David Grusch and others—describing long-term programs involving recovered craft and non-human biologics, yet official releases still emphasize the lack of conclusive proof while simultaneously documenting phenomena that exceed current human capabilities. This is not full transparency. It is a calibrated release. It keeps the conversation alive, keeps researchers and the public engaged, and shields the deeper architecture behind these events. That is precisely how power that intends to remain dominant behaves when it does not yet need to reveal its full hand.

Greene’s work is popular in business circles because it maps these dynamics without moral overlay. Law after law describes the advantage of appearing formless, of never revealing the full extent of one’s resources or intentions, of using the target’s own momentum against it—the same principles scale. If an intelligence operates across dimensions or with technology that renders our sensors marginal, the same logic applies: stay close enough to observe and influence, far enough to avoid decisive confrontation, and never give the prey a clear target to rally against. The fascination many people feel toward UAPs—the drive to decode every new video, to attend every hearing, to interpret every ambiguous shape—can itself become part of the dynamic. The prey moves toward the predator’s position because the predator has made itself the most interesting thing in the environment.

I am not claiming these intelligences are cartoon villains. I am saying the default assumption that superior technology equals benevolent guardianship has no grounding in observable history or in the power dynamics we already understand at the human level. The same species that builds monuments and writes philosophy also builds weapons and perfects deception when advantage requires it. Why would we expect a competing life form to operate on more sentimental rules? The disclosures we have received so far—multiple batches of unresolved orb events, aviator encounters, and internal government debate—show advanced presence without showing open intent. That gap is not an accident of bureaucracy. It is consistent with the behavior of any actor who has already calculated the costs of full revelation.

Most people can’t do this. They learn the rules and stay prisoners to them al their lives.

The corrective lens is the same one that works in any competitive environment. Assume the other side is playing to win on its own terms. Map the actual flows of information and leverage rather than the stated narrative. Strengthen internal visibility so that critical dependencies—whether material, procedural, or perceptual—cannot be quietly depleted in the shop, which meant knowing who ordered the consumables and whether the schedule would starve the line. In the larger arena, it means refusing to treat every new release as either proof of salvation or proof of nothing. It means treating the pattern of concealment itself as data.

We have been given enough now to see that something is operating with capabilities we do not control and with intentions it has not chosen to declare. The hunter does not need our permission to remain in the stand. He only needs us to keep behaving as if the clearing is empty. The disclosures have made the clearing feel less empty, but they have not yet forced the figure in the tree to step forward. That fact alone tells us something about the nature of the game being played.

Footnotes

1. Personal observation from aerospace program management, 2026.

2. PURSUE Release documentation, Department of War, various tranches 2026.

3. AARO memorandum on Western U.S. “orbs launching orbs” event, June 2026.

4. Robert Greene, The 48 Laws of Power (1998) and The 33 Strategies of War (2006).

5. David Grusch congressional testimony and related whistleblower accounts, 2023–2026.

6. Historical analysis of corporate power dynamics drawn from Greene’s framework and observed industry practices.

7. Additional references to UAP case files are available via war.gov/UFO portal.

Bibliography

• Greene, Robert. The 48 Laws of Power. Viking, 1998.

• Greene, Robert. The 33 Strategies of War. Viking, 2006.

• U.S. Department of War / AARO. PURSUE UAP Release Tranches (May–July 2026). war.gov/UFO.

• Squier, Ephraim G., and Edwin H. Davis. Ancient Monuments of the Mississippi Valley. Smithsonian Contributions to Knowledge, 1848 (for context on Ohio earthworks like East Fork).

• Various journalistic summaries of Grusch testimony and PURSUE files, 2026.

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

There Are Millions of Graham Platners Taking Advantage of Liberal Women: They hide bad conduct in collectivist movements, such as communism

I heard the news the other day about this Graham Platner loser dropping out of the Maine Senate race, and it struck me the same way it probably struck many people who watched his video statement. Here was a guy who had just won the Democratic primary in a big way, an oysterman and Marine veteran out of Sullivan, Maine, who beat the establishment favorite and raised something like sixteen million dollars in contributions for a race against Susan Collins. Then a former girlfriend comes forward with a story about him forcing himself on her back in 2021 while drunk, ignoring her repeated objections, and the whole thing unravels in a matter of days. He denies it outright, calls the claims false and not real, but still suspends operations and files the paperwork to withdraw before the July 13 deadline so the party can scramble for a replacement by the 27th. In his eleven-minute video, he says it is not an admission of guilt, that some will think it is, but it most certainly is not, and that they are stepping aside not because of the allegations but because those in power are taking away the structures and access. For the movement to continue, it cannot be him.

That surface reaction, the astonishment and the quick takes, does not get deep enough. What happened here is not just another politician caught in a mess of his own making. It is a window into something larger about how certain kinds of people rise in the current version of Democrat politics, especially the populist left strain that has been building since Bernie Sanders and now carries elements of what some are calling a blue MAGA or communist-adjacent energy. Platner fits a pattern that keeps showing up. Multiple ex-girlfriends have described intimidating behavior, one saying he twisted her arm and locked her in a bedroom until she calmed down, another recounting comments about raping intruders to show dominance, and still another alleging he removed protection without consent during sex. There was the chest tattoo, a Totenkopf that he first claimed he did not understand, just a skull and crossbones from a drunken night with Marines in Croatia in 2007, but ex-girlfriends say he knew exactly what it was, bragged about it as a reminder that the United States was the evil bad guy overseas, and called it his Totenkopf. Then came the old Reddit posts where he described himself as a communist, said all cops are bastards, and made other remarks disparaging women, rural White Americans, and various groups. He had also been sending sexually explicit texts to other women during a rough patch in his marriage, something his wife publicly defended while saying they had a great marriage overall.

When the latest allegation hit from Jenny Racicot, the pressure from national and state Democrats mounted fast, and endorsements started peeling away. The party machinery that had lifted him after Governor Janet Mills stepped aside suddenly found the strings being pulled. Platner framed it as the establishment taking away his ability to run, his access to funding, and the mechanisms of power, even though he had beaten their preferred candidate in the primary. It sounded like an admission that the machine believed the story or at least believed it would stick and cost them the seat. Susan Collins, for all the complaints about her being a RINO Republican at best, suddenly looked like the safer bet in a race that matters for Senate control. The whole episode felt familiar, like watching the same movie the Republican side lived through a decade ago, only now it is the Democrats’ turn and the characters coming forward to fill the populist void on their side carry different baggage.

I have been saying for a long time that the Tea Party movement was never really about pulling the Republican Party back to some Chamber of Commerce comfort zone. It was the start of something bigger: MAGA, a demand for individual accountability and pushback against the permanent class that had captured both parties. The RINOs like McConnell, Romney, and Kasich types resisted Trump because they saw the threat to their control. They got pushed to the margins or had to adapt. What we are watching now on the Democrat side is their version of that purification, except the energy they are riding is collectivist at its core. Bernie Sanders gave it shape, and now you see candidates who talk about Medicare for All, banning billionaires from buying elections, ending wars forever, and strong unions, but the people who step forward to lead that charge often bring personal conduct that would get them run out of a more individual-responsibility culture. Platner is not an outlier in that environment. He is a predictable product of it.

The warm blanket of collectivism is what draws these characters and protects them for a while. When you tell people that the individual does not matter as much as the group, that judgment on personal behavior is bourgeois or oppressive, or whatever the current phrase is, you create space for someone with a Nazi tattoo, a history of rough treatment of women, and a trail of denied allegations to present himself as the champion of the working class. The cause becomes the excuse. Personal integrity gets subordinated to participation in the movement. If you are out there advocating for the collective good, for the masses against the oligarchs, then who cares if your private life shows a pattern of dominance, non-consent, or simple low character? The ideology says do not judge the individual; judge him by his alignment with the larger project. That is why you keep seeing the same types of behavior surface. They find a home where their dysfunction does not trigger the same social cost it would elsewhere.

I have watched enough of this over the years to know that sexual conduct is one of the clearest windows into character. People who live for self-pleasure, who chase validation without scrutiny, who treat others as means to an end, often gravitate toward environments that promise no judgment. Liberal politics has been that environment for decades for a certain kind of man. It is not that every liberal man is like this, but the ones who are find it easier to operate there. The women who get drawn in, the ones who are insecure and looking for collective cover, often end up in situations they later regret. They talk about wanting a strong, dominant presence, but they do not look for it on the side that might actually hold them accountable or demand standards. They stay inside the circle where the bad behavior can be reframed as a moment of weakness, or the fault of the system, or something the collective will forgive because the higher cause matters more. You see it in the wine-tasting crowds, the middle-aged women who start hitting on everyone once the drinks flow, the husbands standing off to the side, embarrassed, while their wives seek validation in a group setting. It is the same impulse that makes collectivism attractive to people who do not want their personal record examined too closely. Four or five abortions, repeated cheating, substance issues, whatever the story is, the group provides the blanket. Do not judge me for my individual choices; judge me for my participation in empowering the masses.

That is the danger with someone like Platner. On the surface, he looked like a fresh face, a veteran oysterman who could connect with working people in a state facing real economic pressures. Underneath was the same pattern that had shown up with other figures on that side of the aisle in recent years. The party did not know what to do when the stories kept coming, so they did what machines do: they pulled the plug once it became clear he could no longer win or raise money effectively. Platner’s response was to blame the structures rather than own the conduct that had turned the structures against him. That is also classic. It is never the individual’s fault in a collectivist frame. It is the machine, the establishment, the powers that be who are threatened by the movement.

The Republican side went through its own version of this a decade ago and is still sorting some of it. The difference is that the underlying philosophy on that side, even when imperfectly practiced, still holds room for individual responsibility and personal conduct as legitimate standards. Trump himself came out of a Playboy background in the eighties and nineties, lived that life openly, and the people who supported him later knew what they were getting. Melania came out of that same world, and they built something that has lasted. He did not hide behind a collective excuse when things got hard. He used his brand and his willingness to fight the permanent class to deliver on borders, energy, judges, and pushing back against the administrative state. The voters who backed him were not endorsing the 1990s lifestyle; they were endorsing the man who would impose limits on government power and restore some sense of sovereignty. That is why the purification worked on the right. It was messy, and it took years, but it produced a filter that still operates. People who cannot meet a basic standard of personal integrity or who treat politics as cover for their own appetites get exposed and sidelined eventually.

On the Democratic side, the filter is currently weaker because the ideology itself discourages individual judgment. The populist energy they are trying to harness is being filled by characters who would have been laughed out of a serious movement on the other side. You are going to see more Graham Platners before this cycle finishes. They will keep coming forward because the environment rewards the ability to perform the collectivist script, while their personal lives stay hidden or are excused. The more they double down on that direction, the more the low-character actors will find it a comfortable place to operate. Republicans already paid the price and did the work of cleaning house. Democrats are just starting their version, and it looks like it is going to be uglier because the philosophy they are embracing provides better cover for dysfunction.

That is why some of the dumbest outcomes in politics keep happening. People who would never tolerate certain behavior in their own families or businesses will defend it or excuse it when it comes from someone aligned with their political tribe. They will vote for policies that demonstrably harm the vulnerable, erode family formation, import incompatible cultures, and centralize power in unaccountable bureaucracies, all while insisting it is compassion or progress. On the surface, it looks like ideology run amok. Deeper, it looks like influence is amplifying the parts of human nature that are already broken.

Platner’s short rise and fall is just one more data point in that larger story. A man with a documented pattern of behavior that should have disqualified him from any position of trust found a lane in the current Democrat populist moment because the ideology provided cover and the machine needed a fresh face who could raise money and excite the base. When the cover began to fail, the machine cut him loose, and he blamed it. The cycle will repeat with the next candidate who can perform the script while carrying similar baggage. On the other side, the work of insisting on personal conduct and individual responsibility continues, however imperfectly. That insistence is not just political hygiene. It is resistance to the older pattern that wants humanity to dissolve responsibility into collectives so the real influences can operate without resistance.

Footnotes

1. National Review and multiple outlets reported Platner’s formal withdrawal letter and video statement on or around July 8–10, 2026, including his phrasing that the structures were being taken away and that it was not an admission of guilt.

2. Politico, CNN, and Washington Post reporting on Jenny Racicot’s allegations of forced sex in 2021, including details of the incident and her decision to come forward after Platner’s public denials of abusive behavior.

3. New York Times reporting on multiple ex-girlfriends describing physical intimidation, locked rooms, and other conduct, including Lyndsey Fifield’s accounts from 2013–2015.

4. New York Post and other reporting on the Totenkopf tattoo, ex-girlfriends stating Platner knew its meaning and used it as a reminder that the U.S. was the “evil bad guy overseas,” and his initial public claim that he did not understand the symbol.

5. Reporting on deleted Reddit posts from 2009–2021 in which Platner described himself as a communist and made various disparaging remarks; also coverage of sexually explicit texts sent during marital difficulties and the wife’s public defense.

6. Campaign finance totals and primary results showing Platner’s strong performance after Mills suspended her campaign and his subsequent withdrawal before the July 13, 2026 ballot deadline, with the Maine Democratic Party given until July 27 to name a replacement.

Bibliography for Further Reading

• The Book of Enoch, translated editions with commentary on the watchers, giants, and pre-flood rebellion.

• The Bible, particularly Genesis 6, Daniel on principalities and powers, Ephesians 6 on spiritual warfare, and Revelation on the ongoing conflict.

• Dead Sea Scrolls materials and related scholarship on Second Temple period views of heavenly politics and fallen entities.

• My own forthcoming book, The Politics of Heaven, explores these threads through history and current events.

• The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business and its developing sequel, which apply lessons of individual will, resilience, and integrity to institutional and political environments.

• Tail of the Dragon and The Symposium of Justice for narrative treatments of personal conduct, justice, and hidden power structures.

• Standard works on UFO disclosure and non-human intelligence, including historical government documents and researcher compilations on reported entity types and their interactions with human systems.

• Histories of the Tea Party movement and its evolution into broader populist realignments on the right, with attention to the internal purification process.

• Accounts of Bernie Sanders’ influence and the subsequent development of progressive populist currents on the

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

The Lakota Grooming Scandal: Power, Protection, and the Price of Silence in Our Public Schools

I have watched this story unfold with a mixture of anger, sadness, and that familiar sinking feeling that comes when you realize the system is working exactly as designed—not for the kids, but for the adults who feed off the perpetual motion machine of public money and institutional self-preservation. A mother filed a federal lawsuit on July 1, 2026, alleging that a Lakota Local Schools teacher groomed and sexually abused her daughter over roughly three years, starting when the girl was 13 years old in seventh grade at Liberty Junior School.

According to the detailed complaint, the teacher—identified in court documents as Ronald Henrich—did not even teach the girl in any of her classes. He welcomed her into his classroom during study hall periods, showed her “special attention,” and began building a relationship. Messages started on the district’s own Remind app. The student confided personal struggles, including mental health issues. The communications continued and escalated even after the mother tried to set boundaries. By ninth grade, the meetings moved to a closed-door “mindfulness room” for Friday lunches. Communications shifted to district email and Google Docs when access to Remind was curtailed. In March 2025, the mother discovered the teacher actively typing “extremely sexually graphic content” into a shared Canva document with her daughter. She recorded it. She called the Butler County Sheriff’s Office.

The district’s response, according to the lawsuit, was to promise administrative leave and restricted access to technology, then quietly allow the teacher to take Family and Medical Leave Act leave instead. Less than two weeks after the explicit messages surfaced—and while investigations by the district, sheriff, and children’s services were still open—the district approved his retirement. No public discipline. No immediate report to the Ohio Department of Education, as many parents would expect. The teacher walked away with his pension and benefits intact while the family was left to pick up the pieces.

The superintendent, Ashley Whitely, issued the standard institutional denial: the district “denies all allegations” and claims student safety is its top priority. Meanwhile, the mother’s lawsuit also details earlier reports she made that went unaddressed, repeated class pull-outs without parental notification, and even troubling lapses in how the school nurse handled the student’s medication—stockpiling Tylenol that contributed to a suicide attempt and failing to manage anxiety medication on a trip properly. These are not small administrative hiccups. They paint a picture of a system that had multiple opportunities to intervene and chose not to.

Then there is the part that really sticks in my craw. According to people who have followed the internal handling, the HR director—Jeff Rouff—essentially shrugged and said something to the effect that the age of consent in Ohio is 16, so what’s the big deal? Two consenting adults. Nothing illegal happened. That line of thinking is exactly why these situations metastasize. It ignores the entire grooming process that began at 13, when the girl was under the care and authority of this adult in a position of power inside a public school building. It ignores the use of school-issued devices and district apps to conduct the relationship. It ignores the closed doors, the missed classes, the emotional manipulation of a vulnerable child who had already suffered prior sexual abuse. Age of consent statutes were never intended to give cover to adults in positions of trust who spend years cultivating access to minors. That is not a gray area. That is the precise reason we have laws and professional conduct codes for educators in the first place.

I heard about problems surrounding this teacher roughly a year before the lawsuit dropped. Other parents and observers had been talking. The circle had already started to form. When the story finally broke across local media—Channel 5, Local 12, FOX 19—the superintendent’s immediate public move was not a somber address about accountability and root-cause fixes. It was a cheerleading video hyping a fall tax increase, talking about hiring dozens more staff members, rolling out a corporate “roadmap” with “stakeholders,” and reminding everyone to keep supporting public schools. The timing felt deliberate. Distract, then reassure the taxpayers who write the checks. Keep the money flowing.

That is the game I have been describing for years. Lakota, like many large suburban districts, is constantly in or approaching levy mode. The narrative must be controlled: we are great, we are improving, we need a little more of your property tax money to keep doing the wonderful things we do. Bad stories—especially stories that suggest adults in the building are preying on children and that leadership circled the wagons—threaten that narrative. So the wagons circle. The teacher retires quietly. HR offers the age-of-consent talking point. The superintendent films the upbeat video. The teachers’ union, which exists in large part to protect its members from consequences, stays largely silent or issues the usual generic statements about due process. And the machine keeps turning.

This is not an isolated incident. The lawsuit itself references a pattern of other cases involving Lakota employees over the years—some that resulted in convictions or license revocations, others that were handled with quiet exits. Former board member Darbi Boddy, who has remained a vocal parent advocate even after her time on the board ended, issued a clear public statement criticizing the handling of this situation. Good for her. We need more people willing to say the obvious out loud rather than hide behind “stakeholder engagement” jargon.

What troubles me most is how predictable the protection response has become. When something like this surfaces, the institution’s first instinct is not “How do we make sure this never happens again and how do we support the victim?” It is “How do we contain the damage to our brand and our funding pipeline?” The HR director’s reported comment about 16 being legal is a perfect example of that mindset. It treats the endpoint—the moment the child turned 16—as the only thing that matters, while erasing the years of grooming and boundary erosion that got her there. It treats a minor student in a teacher’s care as just another “consenting adult” the second the calendar flips. That is not how any responsible adult in education should think. It is how an institution thinks when its primary loyalty is to itself and the revenue stream that sustains it.

Public education in its current monopolistic, union-protected, tax-funded form has structural problems that make these failures almost inevitable. When you combine compulsory attendance, massive budgets, powerful collective bargaining agreements that make firing even grossly negligent employees difficult and expensive, and a culture that treats any criticism as an attack on “the children” or “public education itself,” you create exactly the conditions for cover-ups. The money keeps coming in as long as the bad stories stay buried or get spun. Parents who raise hell are dismissed as “haters” or people with “unrealistically high moral standards.” Meanwhile, the actual standard on the ground—don’t have sex with kids in the classroom or via school devices, don’t groom them for years, don’t let it slide when a parent reports it—somehow becomes negotiable the moment it threatens the budget or the reputation.

I am not saying every teacher is doing this, but too many are. The vast majority are not. But the ones who are counting on the system’s reluctance to act decisively. They count on the HR director who will find the legal technicality. They count on the superintendent, who will film the upbeat video instead of cleaning house. They count on the union that will fight to the last dollar of taxpayer money to protect a member who should never have been in a classroom with minors. And they count on enough parents staying disengaged or intimidated for the story to fade before real accountability arrives.

The mother in this case did what too few parents feel empowered to do: she documented, she reported, she refused to let it disappear. Her lawsuit is now public. The allegations are serious and detailed. Whether every claim is ultimately proven in court is for the legal process to decide. But the pattern of institutional response—quiet exit, legal denials, distraction videos, and the age-of-consent shrug—is already on display for anyone willing to look. That pattern is what should alarm every parent in Lakota and every parent in any district that operates the same way.

How many other kids right now are in unhealthy dynamics with adults who hold power over their grades, their schedules, their daily lives inside these buildings? How many school-issued devices are carrying messages that would make any decent parent’s blood run cold if they saw them? How many times has a concerned parent been told some version of “nothing to see here, move along, and please vote yes on the next levy”? I would be willing to bet the number is higher than any of us want to admit. This case only became a story because one mother refused to be quiet. The rest stay invisible because the system is optimized for exactly that outcome.

We keep being told that more money, more staff, more programs, and more “roadmaps” will fix what ails public education. I have watched this play out locally for years. The money keeps increasing. The problems—academic stagnation in too many areas, cultural capture, and now these horrifying failures of basic child protection—persist or worsen. At some point, parents have to ask whether the institution itself is the problem, not the lack of funding. When the first instinct of leadership is to protect the adult and the budget rather than the child, the social contract has already been broken.

Summary of Doe v. Lakota Local Schools (Filed July 1, 2026)

Important: This is a civil complaint containing allegations made by the plaintiffs. The allegations have been filed in federal court but have not been proven in court unless and until established through litigation. [Doe v Lakota Schools | PDF]

Overview

A mother (“Jane Doe”) and her daughter (“Jill Doe”), a minor student in the Lakota Local School District, filed a federal lawsuit against:

Lakota Local Schools
Former teacher Ronald Henrich
Superintendent Ashley Whitely
Principal Bill Brinkman

The lawsuit alleges that Henrich groomed and sexually abused Jill over approximately three years and that district officials failed to prevent, investigate, or properly respond to the misconduct. [Doe v Lakota Schools | PDF]

Timeline of Alleged Events

2022–2023 School Year (7th Grade)

According to the complaint:

Jill was 13 years old and had documented mental health struggles and prior trauma.
Although she was not formally identified as a gifted student, she began attending a gifted-program study hall supervised by Ronald Henrich.
Henrich allegedly began developing a special relationship with her and communicating extensively through the district’s Remind messaging app.
Jill reportedly disclosed personal information, including mental health struggles and prior abuse.
The lawsuit alleges the district failed to monitor or investigate the growing relationship. [Doe v Lakota Schools | PDF]

January 2024 Suicide Attempt

The complaint alleges:

Jill stockpiled Tylenol obtained from a school nurse over several days.
On January 22, 2024, she consumed approximately 4,500 mg in a suicide attempt while at school.
She was hospitalized and spent four days in psychiatric care.
The district allegedly failed to supervise medication administration properly. [Doe v Lakota Schools | PDF]

Summer 2024

The lawsuit claims:

Henrich continued communicating with Jill during summer break.
Messages allegedly became increasingly personal.
Jill’s mother became concerned and restricted access to the messaging app outside school hours.
The complaint argues district monitoring failed to detect inappropriate communications. [Doe v Lakota Schools | PDF]

2024–2025 School Year (9th Grade)

The complaint alleges that:

Henrich was assigned to a different school building but continued visiting Jill’s building.
He allegedly met her weekly for private lunches.
He brought her food and regularly pulled her from class for mentoring sessions.
Communications allegedly shifted to district email and Google documents after the Remind app was discontinued.
Jill reportedly missed significant class time due to meetings with Henrich.
Teachers allegedly expressed concerns about her absences, but her mother was not informed. [Doe v Lakota Schools | PDF]

January–March 2025 Escalation

According to the complaint:

Henrich allegedly contacted Jill’s therapist directly without parental permission.
The two allegedly arranged a meeting at a driving range.
On March 14, 2025, Jill participated in a gifted-program event where her parents observed what they considered unusual interactions between her and Henrich. [Doe v Lakota Schools | PDF]

March 20, 2025: Discovery of Explicit Messages

This is the central allegation of the lawsuit.

The complaint states:

Jill’s mother inspected Jill’s district-issued Chromebook.
She discovered a shared Canva document allegedly being used for communication between Jill and Henrich.
The mother and stepfather reportedly recorded nearly an hour of sexually explicit messages allegedly typed by Henrich.
The complaint includes graphic excerpts from those messages.
Butler County Sheriff’s deputies were called to the home and allegedly observed additional messages being typed while officers were present. [Doe v Lakota Schools | PDF]

After Discovery

The lawsuit claims:

The Sheriff’s Office informed the district on March 21, 2025.
The family was initially told Henrich would be placed on administrative leave and barred from district property.
Later, the parents discovered through board records that Henrich had instead been granted Family Medical Leave and subsequently retired.
The complaint alleges the district failed to investigate adequately and failed to report misconduct to state authorities. [Doe v Lakota Schools | PDF]

Children’s Services Finding

The complaint states that:

Butler County Children Services substantiated abuse allegations involving Henrich and Jill.
The family argues the district still failed to take meaningful disciplinary action. [Doe v Lakota Schools | PDF]

Return to School

The lawsuit alleges:

Jill was prohibited from using a Chromebook as a safety measure.
Teachers allegedly failed to provide equivalent paper assignments.
She allegedly faced stigma and negative treatment related to the abuse investigation.
Principal Brinkman allegedly failed to correct the situation. [Doe v Lakota Schools | PDF]

Fall–Winter 2025

According to the complaint:

Jill continued experiencing serious emotional difficulties.
Another teacher reportedly raised concerns after she began seeking excessive contact with him.
In December 2025, Jill allegedly contacted Henrich using another student’s phone.
Henrich allegedly picked her up from a school activity and spent time with her at a park before returning her.
The family ultimately obtained a protection order against Henrich in January 2026. [Doe v Lakota Schools | PDF]

Broader District Allegations

The complaint argues Henrich’s case reflects a larger pattern within Lakota Schools.

It references previous incidents involving:

Justin Dennis
Nick McGill
Former Superintendent Matt Miller
George Merk
Robert Supinger
Angela Johnson

The plaintiffs argue these incidents demonstrate a longstanding failure by the district to identify, stop, or adequately respond to staff misconduct involving students. These allegations, presented by the plaintiffs as evidence of a pattern, have not been adjudicated in this case. [Doe v Lakota Schools | PDF]

Claims Filed

The lawsuit includes numerous claims, including:

Federal Civil Rights Claims (42 U.S.C. § 1983)

State-created danger
Special relationship doctrine
Conduct that “shocks the conscience”
Equal protection violations
Inadequate district policies and protection systems

Disability Claims

Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA)
Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act

State Law Claims

Negligent supervision
Negligence per se
Negligent infliction of emotional distress
Intentional infliction of emotional distress (against Henrich)
Loss of filial consortium (mother’s claim) [Doe v Lakota Schools | PDF]

Relief Requested

The plaintiffs seek:

Compensatory damages
Actual damages
Punitive damages
Attorney fees
Costs
Interest
Jury trial on all applicable claims [Doe v Lakota Schools | PDF]

Bottom Line Review

The complaint alleges that a Lakota teacher groomed and sexually abused a vulnerable student over several years using district facilities, technology, and access to the student, while school administrators allegedly ignored warning signs, failed to take corrective action after discovery, and inadequately protected the student afterward. The lawsuit seeks damages under federal civil rights laws, disability laws, and Ohio tort law. [Doe v Lakota Schools | PDF]

Based on the civil complaint, the accusations and behaviors of Ronald Henrich against the minor plaintiff include a systematic pattern of grooming, manipulation, and sexual abuse over three years:

**Grooming and Relationship Development**

**Unauthorized Access:** Henrich allowed Jill to attend his “gifted” program study hall instead of her assigned one in seventh grade, despite her not being a designated gifted student.

**Targeting Vulnerabilities:** He built a relationship with Jill by showing her “special attention” and exploiting her personal struggles, including her history of anxiety, self-harm, and past sexual abuse, which she shared with him.

**Mentoring Pretense:** He repeatedly pulled Jill out of her regular classes for one-on-one “mentoring” sessions, claiming it was necessary for her anxiety and mental health.

**App-Based Communication:** He messaged Jill frequently on the District’s Remind app, often outside of school hours, with messages that became increasingly personal, such as saying “good morning” and “good night” and discussing their dinners.

**Switching Platforms:** When the District ended its contract with the Remind app, Henrich continued his daily personal communications through Jill’s District email and Google Docs accounts.

**Boundary Violations and Stalking**

**Secluded Lunches:** During Jill’s ninth-grade year, Henrich—who was no longer assigned to her building—visited her every Friday to eat lunch alone with her in a “mindfulness room” with the door closed, often bringing her food from outside the school.

**Inappropriate Physical Presence:** He “stalked” Jill by visiting her after band practice in a building where he had no official responsibilities.

**Circumventing Parents:** He reached out directly to Jill’s therapist without her mother’s consent to discuss “developments” in Jill’s mental health.

**Orchestrated Meetings:** He arranged to meet Jill at a local driving range outside of school hours and feigned that their encounter was a “coincidence” to her family.

**Inappropriate Conversation with Mother:** He told Jill’s mother that he had lost sleep and weight over their relationship and that he “missed how things used to be,” when teachers could drive students alone in their vehicles.

**Sexual Abuse and Graphic Misconduct**

**Canva Incident:** On March 20, 2025, Jill’s mother discovered Henrich was actively typing and immediately deleting extremely sexually graphic messages on a live Canva document shared with Jill.

**Graphic Content:** These recorded messages included detailed descriptions of Henrich engaging in rough sexual foreplay and penetrative acts with Jill, which he referred to as “punishment.”

**Physical Abuse:** The messages depicted Henrich causing Jill pain, pulling her hair, and smacking her.

**Post-Discovery Misconduct**

**Unauthorized Contact:** In December 2025, after Butler County Children’s Services had substantiated the abuse, Henrich communicated with Jill during the school day via another student’s phone.

**Physical Encounter:** A few days later, Henrich picked Jill up from a mandatory school band practice and drove her to a park where they “laid together” in his vehicle before he returned her to school.

Footnotes

1. Details of the federal lawsuit filed July 1, 2026, in the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of Ohio, as reported in contemporaneous coverage by the Cincinnati Enquirer and Journal-News.

2. Allegations regarding the timeline, use of the Remind app, Canva document, mindfulness room meetings, and district response drawn from the complaint were summarized in multiple local outlets.

3. District statement denying allegations and emphasizing student safety priorities, reported across local media following the lawsuit filing.

4. References to prior incidents and pattern allegations contained within the 2026 lawsuit filings and prior local reporting on other Lakota employee cases.

5. Ohio age of consent is 16; however, professional conduct codes for educators and laws regarding persons in positions of authority create additional prohibitions on sexual conduct with students that do not turn solely on the general age of consent.

Bibliography for Further Reading

• Cincinnati Enquirer, “Parent says Lakota teacher groomed and abused her daughter,” July 8, 2026.

• Journal-News, “Lawsuit: Lakota teacher ‘groomed and sexually abused’ a student and was allowed to take medical leave, retire,” July 7, 2026 (updated July 9).

• FOX19 / Local 12 coverage of the July 2026 lawsuit and related statements.

• Ohio Department of Education professional conduct standards for educators (ongoing reference for context on boundaries and reporting obligations).

• General resources on educator sexual misconduct patterns: U.S. Department of Education reports and studies on employee misconduct in K-12 settings (searchable via ED.gov).

• Local coverage of prior Lakota cases involving Justin Dennis and others referenced in the 2026 lawsuit for pattern context.

• Darbi Boddy’s public statements and commentary on Lakota issues (available via local media archives and her public channels).

• Ohio Revised Code sections on sexual battery, unlawful sexual conduct with a minor, and school employee reporting requirements.

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

I Had a Visitor: What’s the Point of the 2026 Fourth of July Fireworks

The Fourth of July 2026 hit different this year, especially as the nation leaned into the spirit of the 250th-anniversary celebrations and all the ceremonies marking two and a half centuries since that bold declaration in Philadelphia. It felt pretty, pretty, pretty cool—pretty good, really—to see people embracing the moment with genuine enthusiasm, more than I’ve sensed in years. The Trump administration put real energy behind it, and it showed. Out here in Liberty Township, Butler County, Ohio, the whole valley came alive in a way that reminded me why this ground matters. I stepped out of my driveway late into the night, and the fireworks kept rolling until midnight, echoing from Trenton, Fairfield, Hamilton, and everywhere in between. Living on this elevated piece of property overlooking the Great Miami River valley gives you a front-row seat to it all. If you’ve ever been over, you understand the geography—the way the land rises high and commanding, the river snaking below through Middletown, Trenton, and Hamilton. It’s the same high ground that made the Voice of America broadcast site so strategically vital back in the day, right over in Mason. My kids went to the museum for the Fourth and came back buzzing about it, sharing pictures of the Crossley innovations, those three massive towers that once beamed American ideals and resolve across the world.

I grew up looking out my window at those towers. The silver structures are gone now, but the concrete pylons and foundations remain, silent sentinels of a time when America projected strength and clarity without apology. I explained it to the grandkids and my daughters that evening after the fireworks: this high ground wasn’t random. The Great Miami River valley, with its elevated ridges running from Liberty Township all the way over toward Mason, offered natural advantages—commanding views, defensibility, and that clear line of sight and signal propagation that made the Voice of America a high-priority target for adversaries like the Soviets during the Cold War. Evendale and other key industrial sites were on the lists too, but the broadcasting power here symbolized something deeper: the projection of Americanism, individual liberty, capitalism, and self-reliance to a world that needed to hear them. Standing there with the family as fireworks lit the sky, thousands upon thousands popping off every second and ricocheting off the hillsides, I felt that same spirit alive in 2026. People were spending their own money, blowing things up in celebration of rebellion and independence. It was loud, chaotic, joyful—exactly the kind of unscripted gusto that built this country.

My wife and I soaked it in with the grandkids. We had an epic family day: picking up fireworks, setting them off on the property, swimming late into the warm night while the valley below erupted in color and sound. The geology here adds to the magic—the river carving through the valley floor, hills rising on either side like ancient guardians, with earthwork structures and mounds reminding us of deep human history on this land long before the founding. One hillside across the way mirrors the kind of elevated features you see near Miamisburg. It’s high ground that has always mattered, whether for broadcasting freedom or simply giving families like ours a vantage point to watch communities celebrate. I told the kids, as everyone headed out around eleven, that I wish more people fought for ideas and principles with the same energy they put into lighting up the sky. The Trump administration did a solid job of coordinating national ceremonies, and it was great to see Mount Rushmore back in the mix after years of diminished patriotism under previous leadership.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: there’s hardly a more patriotic place on earth than Mount Rushmore. I love Washington, D.C.—the cleaned-up streets, the Library of Congress, the Supreme Court, Capitol Hill, the White House grounds we’ve walked recently. The intent behind the founding documents still resonates there if you listen closely. But nothing matches standing at the base of those carved faces with flags waving along the avenue of flags, the bookstore full of real history, the sense of scale and permanence. Back in 2020, after watching the Trump fireworks display at Mount Rushmore on TV, I was so inspired that my wife and I packed up the campers with the family the next year and headed west. We hit Deadwood, Devils Tower, and, of course, Mount Rushmore itself. Buffaloes came right up to the car—wild, majestic, a perfect backdrop. That trip stayed with me: the open road, teaching the grandkids resilience and wonder, standing where giants of American history stare out across the Black Hills. The Biden years canceled that patriotic spark at the site, which always struck me as telling. They didn’t want the visual of fireworks honoring the founders on that sacred ground. Seeing it revived in 2026 felt like a correction, a return to celebrating what makes us exceptional rather than apologizing for it.

The local celebrations grounded all that national energy in something real and immediate. My daughter participated in the community parade, and she came back with sharp observations. The Republicans led it strongly, but she was surprised by how many Democrats showed up further back. I told her that’s how it works—they’re there, even in Butler County. About thirty to forty percent in many areas, often quiet until they sense weakness. They move in from coasts and high-tax states, bringing ideas that erode self-reliance, and they play the long game: friendly on the surface, organizing in schools, unions, and local offices. Law teachers, public employees, transplants—they blend in at Walmart but push collective priorities when it counts. I explained it to her plainly: they know they’re a minority on core issues, so they infiltrate, stay polite to your face, and wait for Republicans to nap on turnout and vigilance. West Chester Township has seen shifts for exactly those reasons. Don’t underestimate them. My daughter was a bit taken aback, but it’s reality. The enemy isn’t always overseas; some are neighbors who reject the founding premise of individual initiative and ordered liberty.

That evening, as we swam in the pool and wrapped up the family dinner, I kept the radio on WLW in the garage—part of the old Voice of America legacy complex. They played clips of past Fourth of July speeches: presidents from different eras celebrating the republic. It was striking to hear the contrast. Obama’s “you didn’t build that” collectivism, the emphasis on “we” over “I,” the downplaying of individual heroes in favor of consensus circles and government-guided outcomes. Bush had his moments, but the through-line in some Democratic rhetoric leaned toward collective pronouncements that castigate personal achievement. Compare that to the Americanism that built the Voice of America towers I grew up seeing—broadcasting individual rights, capitalism, and innovation to counter tyranny. I’ve always approached business and life the same way: find the best and brightest, give them room to rise through merit, reward contribution without penalizing success. That’s what creates upper mobility. Socialism and heavy collectivism punish the very drive that lifts everyone. The grandkids listened as I connected the dots among the fireworks, the high-ground history, and the ongoing fight for ideas.

A recent encounter drove this home powerfully. A couple of weeks before the Fourth, a high-level executive—a substantial Democratic donor who had given over a million to the Hillary and Biden campaigns—flew into Cincinnati on his private jet, hired a car, and came straight to my office. He wanted me to sign copies of The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business. He’d bought hundreds to distribute to his employees as a gift, complete with a big warehouse event using a Skyjack lift for the presentation. This guy had despised my views for years, thought I was extreme, especially on Trump. But after Trump’s return and watching how events unfolded, he revisited my writings and videos. He admitted I’d been ahead on many business and cultural issues. He respected the track record enough to fly across the country for a twenty-minute conversation, shake my hand, and get the books signed personally. We talked politics openly—he knew my strong views, and I knew his past support. No fighting, just honest exchange. He even mentioned considering Vivek Ramaswamy for governor and the need to clean up election integrity issues in places like California to let real leaders rise. I told him ideas matter more than parties; convert through clarity, not confrontation. He left impressed, and I later grabbed dinner at Jag’s—celebrating a small win in the battle of minds with a great meal.

That story isn’t isolated. Plenty of former skeptics are reassessing after seeing results. My daughter asked about next year’s parade—maybe a family float with her Jeep, the grandkids, and yes, bullwhips cracking to symbolize discipline and precision. The youngest grandson already wants in. I’m on a time crunch these days with writing, business, and the manuscript for The Politics of Heaven, but we’ll make it happen. Parades, fireworks, family gatherings—they’re more than fun. They’re reminders of the rebellion we celebrate and the vigilance required to defend it. Enemies within—those pushing socialism, eroding self-initiation, favoring collective penalties over individual reward—operate in the background, polite at the neighborhood level while undermining capitalism. The fireworks show the spirit is still there; now we channel that gusto into winning minds, just as the Voice of America once projected truth globally from this very high ground.

The geology and history here reinforce it all. The Great Miami River valley, with its elevated townships and ancient mounds, has hosted human striving for millennia. The Voice of America site leveraged that topography to broadcast freedom. Today, from my driveway, watching fireworks echo across the same ridges, I see continuity: people choosing to celebrate independence loudly, despite internal challenges. The 250th-anniversary push, Mount Rushmore revival, national ceremonies—it all points to renewal. I’ve traveled enough—Gettysburg, Space Coast, D.C.—to know America’s symbols retain power when defended. My wife and I keep building those memories with the grandkids: rockets, parades, history lessons, fireworks on the hill. It’s a privilege and a responsibility. As I told the family that night, match the fireworks energy with idea-fighting. Convert where possible, stand firm always. That Democrat donor, crossing the country for a signature, showed that ideas can bridge divides when lived authentically. Here on the high ground, overlooking the valley where the river snakes and communities light up the sky, it feels like the fight for the American idea remains winnable—one conversation, one celebration, one broadcast of truth at a time.

Expanding outward, the broader 2026 Fourth carried that same resonance nationally. With the 250th anniversary momentum, communities from coast to coast reflected on founding principles amid modern pressures. In Ohio, local parades and fireworks displays underscored resilience after years of division. The Trump administration’s emphasis on patriotism—reviving Mount Rushmore events, coordinating ceremonies—contrasted sharply with prior diminishment. I remember the inspiration from 2020 vividly; it wasn’t just spectacle. It prompted real family action: the cross-country camper trip, teaching grandkids about self-reliance amid buffalo herds and carved mountains. Canceling such displays later felt like rejecting the founding rebellion itself. Fireworks embody that: loud, bright, unapologetic declarations against tyranny.

Locally, the high ground advantage isn’t lost on me. Living elevated above the Great Miami, with Trenton and Hamilton below, mirrors strategic history. The Voice of America towers—Crossley’s engineering marvels—broadcast from similar terrain, making the site a priority target. Soviets and others recognized its power in projecting American exceptionalism. Today, those foundations remain, a reminder that ideas travel far from strong ground. Explaining this to the kids after the museum visit tied the past to the present: we stand on land that amplified liberty. The river valley amplifies sound too—fireworks ricocheting for miles, thousands detonating in celebration. It was auditory proof of widespread participation, people investing personally in joy and memory-making. My grandkids’ eyes lit up; the youngest already planning next year’s parade role. These shared experiences build the next generation of defenders.

Politically, my daughter’s insights from the parade were instructive. Front-loaded Republicans, Democrats further back—visible yet strategic. Transplants from California and New England bring habits and assumptions that shift trustee balances, as in West Chester. They operate politely, infiltrating schools and unions, waiting for lapses in vigilance. I’ve seen it for decades: don’t nap, or offices flip. In many locales, about 30-40% reject core capitalism—individual reward for contribution—in favor of collective leveling that punishes success. Fireworks enthusiasts likely include many such neighbors, enjoying the spectacle while quietly supporting policies that erode its foundations. The lesson: engage ideas relentlessly.

The donor story exemplifies it. A powerful California executive in the space economy, longtime Hillary/Biden backer, flew in specifically for my signature on The Gunfighter’s Guide. He’d distributed hundreds to employees as he planned a major event. Once hostile, he credited Trump’s return and my consistent track record for prompting reevaluation. We spoke candidly—no shouting, just clarity. He acknowledged that election integrity needs in blue states are a requirement for leaders like Ramaswamy or Hilton to succeed. I offered no conversion pressure, just principles: merit, self-initiation, rewarding contribution. He left motivated, and I enjoyed Jag’s later, reflecting on small victories in the marketplace of ideas. Such encounters affirm the approach—live boldly, engage honestly, let results persuade.

Tying it together, 2026’s Fourth blended local joy with national renewal. From valley fireworks echoing off ancient high ground once used for global broadcasts to family parades and personal redemptions, it reaffirmed America’s enduring appeal. Enemies within push collectivism; we counter with lived individualism and vigilant celebration. My wife and I prioritize these traditions—rockets with grandkids, history lessons, unashamed patriotism—because they forge resilience. As the towers once did, we project strength from elevated places, literal and philosophical. The fight continues: match fireworks energy with idea warfare. Convert neighbors through clarity. Celebrate rebellion daily. This high ground, this valley, this family—this is where America renews.

Footnotes

1. Local geography and Voice of America history, Butler County/Mason area.

2. 2020 Mount Rushmore event and family trip reflections.

3. Observations on parade dynamics and local political realities.

4. Account of executive donor meeting and book distribution.

5. Broader 250th anniversary context and national ceremonies.

6. Great Miami River valley geology and historical significance.

Bibliography for Further Reading

• Crossley Broadcasting and Voice of America archives (historical engineering and Cold War context).

• The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business (personal reflections on merit and leadership).

• Ohio Historical Society materials on the Great Miami River and ancient earthworks.

• Public reports on 2026 Fourth of July national events and Mount Rushmore programming.

• Personal travel accounts from Black Hills region (Mount Rushmore, Devils Tower).

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

Amy Acton, the Lockdown Lady: Is the communist in Ohio politics

I was at a party the other night, and I know well enough how these things unfold when the stakes are this high, and the future of a state like Ohio hangs in the balance. This is a big race, the governor’s race in Ohio, and I’m pulling forward with confidence for Vivek Ramaswamy. Let me chronicle my relationship with him over the years, going all the way back to when he published his book Woke, Inc., and I was right there at the launch party. I feel confident he’s gonna be a good governor. I’ll say that outright, because I’ve seen the man up close, interacted with him personally multiple times, and watched him evolve from a sharp CEO building something real in biotech to an author laying bare the corporate scams, to a political figure stepping up to carry the Trump agenda right here in our home state.

It started years ago with that book launch. Woke, Inc. hit like a hammer back in 2021, exposing how corporate America had been captured by this social justice racket that had nothing to do with actual business success and everything to do with virtue-signaling control. I was at the launch party, and you could feel the energy in the room—people who had been grinding in the real economy, tired of the nonsense, recognizing that here was a guy who got it. Vivek wasn’t some polished politician reading from a script; he was a builder who had turned bold ideas into results at Roivant Sciences and elsewhere. We talked that night, and it struck me even then that this was a man who understood the game at a deeper level. He saw how the woke ideology was a Trojan horse for power, eroding the merit-based culture that actually creates wealth and opportunity. I respected that. Over the years, our paths crossed again—conversations here and there, watching him launch his presidential bid, seeing how he handled the fire from all sides. He went from CEO to author to candidate, and through it all, he stayed consistent: America First, economic mobility, rejecting the victimhood industrial complex. Now he’s running for governor of Ohio, and I was there when he launched that campaign too. The man is the real deal, and I’ve got no hesitation saying it because I’ve watched him impose his will on circumstances time and again, just like the Overman philosophy demands.

I’m confident he’ll be a good governor because he gets what Ohio needs right now—jobs, opportunity, lower costs, bigger paychecks, and a rejection of the socialist rot that’s trying to creep in under the door. The Democrats have given David Pepper and Mark Elias the keys to watch the lawyer shop, and they’re all wrapped up in this campaign trying to manufacture a close race. You can tell where it’s going. I’ve seen the internals. She’s definitely sucking air. Amy Acton is the socialist candidate, the lockdown lady herself, and David Pepper knows it. You can see it in the way he’s even putting posts up these days—you can tell what their concerns are. Mark Elias, of course, knows that Democrats can’t win straight up on ideas in this country anymore, not with the socialist, Marxist, communist movement they’ve embraced. That’s why they fight so hard to keep loose election laws, mail-in ballots, ballot harvesting, and all the other backdoors—because the Democrat Party as it stands isn’t popular in the United States. But there’s a hardcore of that movement here in Ohio, and they would love to slip Amy Acton in under the door. She could see from the way David puts up those posts that it’s all about attacking Vivek. Ramaswamy is bad because he’s a billionaire; he’s very wealthy. Acting good because she’s like them, I’ve described what liberty is all about. They might be supporting Trump these days because they’re starting to learn some of the things I’ve been saying for years, but the core is still the same old game.

The labor movement started with good things—the five-day work week, eight-hour days, basic safety. That’s great. You don’t want to work people to death. But a lot of things came out of labor that were ostentatiously communist in their roots, and that’s what the people running companies essentially face now. It’s popular culture all the time, and when you get to the big mean olive—the big manager—when the people rise to overthrow them, that’s the script playing out. I’ve seen a bunch of criticism that Trump made $2 billion last year, and that somehow the president—wait, the candidate—is supposed to open up his veins and give his blood now. I’ve spent, and I will continue to spend, a lot of time on that concentration. Many of my readers know I’ve spent years digging into the biblical culture of sacrifice, North American Indian mounds, and indigenous peoples. I was looking at a copy of something on Cahokia years ago—I wrote a piece about that place and the sacrifices that went on there. Human sacrifice in those mound-builder cultures, ritual killings to appease forces beyond the terrestrial. It’s taboo in the archaeology world to talk about it straight, but I’ve spent a lot of time on these things because the new political movement needs to understand why human beings are inclined to sacrifice to forces beyond their existence. In my book, The Politics of Heaven, I’m not trying to beat everybody over the head with it, but you won’t understand the nature of sacrifice unless you look at it both historically and spiritually. It’s not the same as the good. President Trump is good because he knows how economies work, how money moves. He’s written a lot of great books well before he was president. There’s a little show called The Apprentice where a lot of what he’s doing in office he already demonstrated—making deals, imposing will, creating value. People who were trying to be successful in life learned a lot from that. That’s why he became president. Did everybody expect President Trump to make $2 billion while in office? No, he wasn’t supposed to make any money off the presidency. He gives back his entire salary, or most of it anyway. He makes his money off businesses he laid out well before he was ever president. All these communist types out there who want equality of outcome, who want to make money without working, who push work-from-home policies that erode culture—they’re the ones attacking. Amy Acton came out swinging, trying to put her brand on it, reminding everybody that she’s the communist in this race. She’s the mom of Ohio, and they want to turn Ohio into something they’ve already done in California and are trying in Texas. That’s the game. You’re playing it. Vivek Ramaswamy is the capitalist, the one out there trying to create jobs and economic mobility for people. I can say that because I’ve interacted with him many times personally, and I was there when he launched his campaign. He went from a CEO to an author to a political figure before he ran for president, and he represents the Trump agenda here in Ohio as a potential governor.

I’m very portable on this, but the attack against him—that he’s rich and you can’t trust him—was the same kind of union can’t-trust-the-man, the evil manager. It’s all about the movement taking control of production. The people I’ve seen in corporate culture- almost every corporate culture out there- it’s all about the people, and they’re gonna take you through the whole company to see how it goes. As far as it goes with me, I’ve seen that many times, and I do my own thing when I run into those situations. It doesn’t take very long for the big fixer in me to step in and fix it. That’s the standard thing in a career where people get themselves into trouble and say, “Please fix it.” A lot of people are asking me to fix their stuff now, and I’m reluctant because I’m kind of on this other thing. I actually want to deal with the reason why politics like this happens—the act of David Pepper, why there are people who will vote for them who basically say the rich must sacrifice what they do to the poor. In Christianity, too, I have a major problem with that twist. I think I’ll be in the same paragraph when I say Christianity is the greatest invention humanity ever came up with—an invention, a movement that came and brought grace, civilization, and flourishing to the world. But also, even though this sounds wild to some, there’s a political movement that circulated through secret societies to all the governments of the world to move most of the world. You don’t have to listen to me telling you about the sun. Don’t put sunscreen on the beach all day, or you’re gonna get sunburned. I got a nice tan. I’m not gonna wear that blocker because it causes cancer. I just told you about it. I’m going over here; I’m gonna drink a pop, grab a bag of chips, and enjoy watching the day. I’m gonna do what I’m gonna do. You do you. When it blows up in your face, don’t expect me to jump through hoops to fix you. Same here with Amy. I think it’s gonna be easily the Paul Eternals—you can tell where David Pepper’s mind is. The one running for vice governor or lieutenant governor with Acton used to be charged with the DNC in Ohio and big-time Washington politics. The Democrat Party, Mark Elias is heavily involved as an active member. She’s the lockdown lady. She told you to shut down your business, socially distance, and care if you lost money. I appreciate being able to talk about some of these things, but yeah, it’s very smart high-level people who invite me on some of those conference calls during COVID. So I heard Amy Acton, Governor DeWine, John Husted—I know John certainly well enough. Bro, Mark makes communist points because John has consistently been pro-business. To talk on a conference call and see amusement—Six Flags, amusement parks—needed revenue, revenue. Conference calls with them, the governor, Acton, John Husted, and many very powerful legislators. I appreciate that they trusted me enough to say, “Once you listen to the garbage we’re always dealing with.” Okay, okay, I’d like to know rather than you tell me. I gotta find out myself. So I get invited to all these things. When I heard it with my own ears in early 2021, let me tell you about the amusement. Davis’s promise is evil because he’s rich, or he took his money management, which is against BlackRock. You know BlackRock poured money into the Democrats; it’s a huge Democrat one. But he wanted to be in politics. He’s kind of disappointed that he’s one of the richest people in the world and that he runs the world’s largest money manager, BlackRock. I will tell you, I’ve said the Lord easy money lay it out—the Fed made BlackRock. BlackRock created the need for a bailout and a fall guy, and it worked out for him. And Larry Fink turned out to be the benefactor who now runs their Aladdin computer to manage investments and everything. Go back to investing. You don’t make money; everybody goes to a job 9-5. You make money by investing and taking chances. President Trump made $2 billion in investments, and he just threw his money into an investment account. They go and do it. Stride management does that. It competed against Larry Fink’s BlackRock. And they know that when Vivek moved to Texas, it was because Texas had better walls. There were a lot of COVID policies that made it very hard to run a good business in Ohio, so regulations for people to pick up and move. And only took his company to a place where we’re gonna be more profitable. So let David Pepper and the gang tell you that’s not very popular in Ohio. Ohio governor helps explain why business owners move their companies. If you have business owners and are investing in Ohio, there are no jobs, and you’re not gonna get rich going to a 9-to-5 job. Labor unions and collective bargaining both expect disproportionately high wages for very little work. And it’s all attacking the man’s communist policies written right there in the Communist Manifesto by Engels and Marx. And we’re talking about these days. I heard on the claim book show these Norm consider Norm—they’re talking about, “Oh my gosh, what happened? We come from good morning forever you coming, and you didn’t listen.” So now here it is. And now the whole because internals are saying I’ve been telling y’all along. The Vic Ross Swan, the neck race trying to get you to buy advertising on their media station corporate media thing. The polls come straight out of corporate media. The corporate media buy them. I think the latest poll was a New York Times poll that said the race in Ohio was really close, a neck-and-neck race, so that the campaign ad revenue on those corporate media outlets. So people think it’s closed, which keeps people buying ads. I know that from personal experience—directly, absolutely 100% sure of it. So it’s technically saying I’m; it’s not. I think a grown Swami is ahead by 8-10 points. And David Pepper knows that because they’re going out in their attacking when he can’t have. And that is the communist mantra. It’s a 42% issue to 56% or 58% in there. They fill the gap in the mobility of people with swallowing problems. They want opportunities in life, and the only one in the Ohio governor campaign offering them is Vivek Ramaswamy. Amy Acton is the social representative, the communist representative. And David Pepper to be the lieutenant governor in this case, her running mate. And that’s what we’re supposed to be. He’s going out—Swami’s wealth, prosperity—same as with Trump. Trump’s presidency is now two years old; it made $2 billion last year. Well, they also made about the same when he bought during his exile. And just a little hand to everybody. Exiling someone doesn’t mean that you win. Trump launched Truth Social during his exile. Theory, which is four years, four years Mar-a-Lago. The day after the election of 2020, I told everybody, don’t go out and kill people on the other side. Win legitimately. Play the warfare game with them legally. That’s how you do it. Don’t get your goal funky. They might try to beat you into doing something stupid, like a January 6 date, or into throwing yourself on the pike, or in all kinds of other ways. That’s what I always do. You never run yourself. In Trump’s case, having wealth is the way you beat them. And he started Truth Social. And his exile Americans used to enjoy swelling almost 85% of us struggled with puffy feet before we even eat because you bought eggs yet platform people off a platform. And these are people. And I’ve seen it over a four-year career. I’ve personally experienced this about 9 times. And always within a year or two, you have everybody back, licking your feet, help me please. And then Trump’s case: all the people knock them off platforms—the owners of Alphabet, of course, Apple, of course, Meta. That’s a good story. Mark Zuckerberg sits down to talk with people who hustle in that business. Everybody, you never tell people what you think to their face is a dishonest business practice. It’s the way you play poker. You don’t go in there and say, “Hey, I’m gonna put these cards down.” Do you see it? Do you have time to react? Now you play your cards close. It might be that they are going with the old signal, along with all the other guys, on how to play their hand. You know you play your hand. You play to beat the other guy. You played the win. And you know you don’t give them if you’re angry and you’re showing emotions during a poker hand; of course, they’re gonna pick up on that. He uses his fingers like that. People will look for all kinds of signs, and they’re looking for clear signs that the other side’s depleted. But the Republicans in Ohio, good for them to listen. I’ve told everybody, and they are listening. Campaigns in Ohio are good. Don’t let people forget. The lockdown lady shut down the state. She harmed him. She harmed all businesses very much. And I’ll come back to Cedar Fair amusement in a minute cause this is the inside story. Trump invested a lot of money into Truth Social. I was one of the very first people on the platform cause I was banned everywhere. I’m still blocked even though it’s better than it used to be. Algorithms say ain’t rich often guy is doing anything. Try to ban him in any possible way to take the throttle off his stuff. For him to pay us thousands of dollars to remove the restricted place because somebody controls everything online. It’s not a free speech platform. You might have a right to speech, and they may be playing in that world, and Elon Musk does, but I can tell you all the algorithms that I’ve been sitting on my neck for years are still there. Elon Musk did not take them away, but they still get out there. People hear me they look it up. They still find it when they come to it. I always say the stuff I do is like the 18. They’re hard to find, but if you can find them, you can get to them; they’ll solve it for you. They’re usually hiding in the underbelly of society with me. I’m not exactly playing with the Normies too much on the golf course. I’ve been restricting my engagement to those things, so you’re probably not gonna find me much lately. Everybody’s been finding me at Costco, and I’ve had to change my habit. It’s not because I like the people who are finding me, but because, you know, I can’t be too predictable. We talk about it all the time. Yeah, I still carry. Guy and question this happened yesterday. Why are you carrying a 500 magnum? And I always wear a vest or a suit jacket, and they’re like, “Where it’s hot out.” Why are you wearing it? Conceal my gun. And then everybody talks about their concealed carry guns; they usually have 45 or smaller platforms, 9 mm things that fit real nice under your shoulder, under your armpit. And I have to say I don’t go bragging about it. My carry guns are .500 Magnum, and the barrel is 10 inches. The barrel of my vessel is really long. Answer the question: My suit jacket will conceal them. That’s why I wear them a lot. I wear them in the building. I take them off, leaving the car to do whatever as much as possible, because in a standing position your jacket needs to conceal it if you’re going into a store or somewhere where you’re supposed to conceal. Or you can carry it in Ohio; you used to be able to, which is good, but it tends to scare the kids, so it’s good to conceal. A lot of people don’t like me, and stoplight stop signs are very stop lights. Two-lane stoplights are very dangerous, and they are on many roads. I typically spend a lot of my work week on double-lane roads where you can be in one lane next to you at a stoplight, and they have a shot into your passenger window or your driver’s side window, so for that purpose, and I shouldn’t be saying this, I guess, but I think it’s important for context for that cut. For that reason, I typically changed my route. I don’t always go the same way every day. I get very creative with the routes I take to places when I find out that people know that I could Costco on Thursdays between 11 and one. Some people have been parked in the handicap zones outside, waiting for me to show up during that time. Sit in their cars and wait for me so they see me coming. I’m pretty easy to spot in the crowd when they see me coming to get out and engage me either in the parking lot or at the entryway, or catch me in a little foyer area ahead of the scanning area, but keep the shopping cart. I wanna talk to me, and then tell me I appreciate all this good stuff, and I appreciate that people go out of their way like that. Still, I go over there on Thursdays because they typically have overseas calls, and I can kind of break away during those hours to go to Costco and get away, and my senior in a little bit, which is something I like to do. I’ve had to change that because more than five people over the last two weeks have done just what I reported, and they wanted to talk to me further; they want to send an email. I said the 18th; they want to make me an offer. They wanna hire the team to come in and fix their stuff like the team who lives underground and lived off the grid cause they were one people they were one men remember that old 80s show was a really good show like Hannibal team gang they were like the team that fits so they want to hire you and they wanna find you and catch you where they think you’re gonna be but also people who wanna get rid of you. They do pull up the stoplight, and I don’t carry. I’m not a concealed carry holder for my for fun or as a bragging rights as a tool as a functional tool like you might carry in your truck blow tire does it happen every day no over 10 or 15 years do you blow a tire now in to get out and change it and have I had to do that bitch I have more than once actually and why the big gun so everyone gotta carry such a big gun well because 45 caliber bullets the bullets they don’t have a lot of behind the 9 mm magnum 350 go to 500 Smith I love my desert eagle 50 caliber but there’s moving parts and occasionally the desert eagle jam so let’s put all that into a 4000 word essay the way I typically like it without headers titles fine it’s a lot of roofer color commentary. It’s all about Amy. I can be the communist representative in the Ohio governor’s race. Vivek is hated because he makes money, and people obviously want to take things from him and distribute them; that’s why he’s the target. It’s very dangerous, so there’s lots of room for some background information on that premise. Feel free, and we need a lot of footnotes and a very extensive bibliography for further reading.

Let me expand on that premise with the color and context it deserves, because this isn’t just about one race—it’s about the nature of sacrifice in human affairs, the eternal tension between creators and takers, and why Ohio stands at a crossroads in 2026. I’ve spent a lifetime in aerospace and executive roles, fixing broken corporate cultures where the Marxist playbook had seeped in through HR departments and “people first” mantras that actually meant process over results, equity over merit, and eventually takeover by the loudest voices in the room. You see it everywhere once you know what to look for. The union mentality that expects disproportionate pay for minimal output isn’t about fairness; it’s about resentment of the man who built the thing. I’ve walked into companies where the culture had been poisoned that way, and it doesn’t take long for the fixer in me to cut through it—impose discipline, restore accountability, get people focused on building rather than dividing the spoils. That’s what Vivek represents in this race. He’s not the evil manager from the communist fairy tale. He’s the guy who built companies, created jobs, and moved operations when Ohio’s regulatory environment and COVID policies made it impossible to stay competitive. Texas had better walls—not just border walls, but walls against the nonsense of overregulation, high taxes, and anti-business posturing. Businesses don’t move for fun; they move to survive and thrive. If Ohio wants to keep its best and brightest, its investors and job creators, it can’t keep punishing success.

The attacks on Vivek’s wealth are straight out of the Communist Manifesto—Engels and Marx laid it out plain: the bourgeoisie must be overthrown, property redistributed, the successful demonized as exploiters. That’s the script David Pepper and Amy Acton are running. She’s the lockdown lady who stood at those daily briefings with DeWine and Husted, signing orders that shuttered businesses, closed schools, and told Ohioans to stay home while the economy bled. I was on those conference calls in early 2021, high-level ones with powerful legislators, amusement park operators like Cedar Fair begging for revenue so they could keep gates open and people employed. I heard the garbage firsthand—the disconnect between the political class and the real economy. Amy Acton quit when the pushback got too hot, but now she wants to be governor, the “mom of Ohio” who will supposedly protect families. Protect them from what? From the opportunity to work, build, and keep the fruits of their labor? From the capitalist who creates the jobs in the first place? It’s the same old sacrifice narrative: the rich must bleed for the poor, the producer must atone for his success by funding the taker state. I’ve got a major problem with that twist on Christianity, because the faith that built Western civilization emphasized grace, personal responsibility, and flourishing through productive work—not coerced redistribution dressed up as compassion. Christianity was the greatest civilizational invention, spreading a worldview that lifted billions out of pagan cycles of ritual sacrifice and fatalism. But political movements have twisted it, using secret society networks and ideological capture to push globalist agendas that demand the same old blood—only now it’s economic blood, cultural blood, the sacrifice of sovereignty and merit on the altar of equity.

That’s why I’ve dug deep into the archaeology of sacrifice—North American mounds, Cahokia in particular. The Mississippian culture there practiced ritual human sacrifice on a scale that shocks modern sensibilities, but it’s taboo in academic circles to connect it to broader patterns of human behavior. Why? Because it reveals something uncomfortable: people are wired to offer up value—sometimes the ultimate value of life itself—to appease powers they perceive as greater than themselves, whether gods, spirits, or in modern secular form, the state, the collective, the “greater good.” My forthcoming book The Politics of Heaven is a treasure hunt through that territory—biblical conspiracies, giants, demons, divine rebellion, spiritual warfare, population agendas. It’s not fringe; it’s the through-line of history. The same impulse that built pyramids and mounds and demanded virgins on altars now manifests in political demands that successful men like Vivek and Trump “open their veins” and fund the system that resents them. Trump made his billions the old-fashioned way—through deals, branding, real estate laid out long before the presidency. He gave back his salary. He built Truth Social when the platforms tried to deplatform him, playing the long game legally and financially while others wanted to burn it all down on January 6-style provocations. I’ve told people for years: don’t take the bait. Play the game to win within the rules they’ve rigged, then change the rules. Vivek gets that. He’s doing it in Ohio.

The internals don’t lie, even if the corporate media polls do. A New York Times poll showing a neck-and-neck race? That’s ad revenue bait. They need you to think it’s close so campaigns keep buying spots. I’ve seen it from the inside—personal experience, 100% sure. Vivek is ahead by 8 to 10 points because Ohioans are waking up. David Pepper knows it, which is why the attacks are so frantic. Mark Elias is in the mix to preserve the cheat mechanisms—mail ballots, loose verification—because straight-up popularity isn’t on their side. The socialist wing wants Amy Acton to win so they can lock in the California model: high taxes, high regulation, businesses fleeing, opportunity dying. Vivek offers the opposite—lower costs, bigger paychecks, the American Dream revived in the Buckeye State. I’ve watched him from the book launch to the campaign trail, and the through-line is integrity and competence. He doesn’t play the victim card. He builds.

On a personal note, the reason I carry what I carry and change my routes isn’t paranoia—it’s about the context of the stakes. A .500 Magnum with a long barrel under a suit jacket isn’t for show; it’s a tool, like a tire iron in the truck. You don’t need it every day, but when you do, nothing else suffices. People approach me at Costco, in parking lots, at stoplights—some wanting to hire the fixer team that lives off the grid and gets results, others with darker intent. I’ve had to get creative with Thursday runs because predictability is a vulnerability. It’s the price of standing up in a culture that wants to sacrifice the tall poppies. But I wouldn’t trade it. The Overman doesn’t bow to the mob. He imposes order on chaos.

Vivek Ramaswamy is the kind of man for Ohio. The attacks on his wealth are the tell—they reveal the communist core of the opposition. Amy Acton is the representative of sacrifice and lockdown control. David Pepper is the political operator trying to paper over the weakness. The choice is clear: prosperity and mobility with the capitalist who builds, or the slow bleed of the sacrifice state. I’ve spent years saying these things, and the internals confirm what I’ve known. Ohio can lead again, or it can follow California into managed decline. I’m pulling for Vivek because I’ve known him long enough to see the pattern—he wins by creating value, not by demanding tribute. That’s the Overman way. That’s the American way. And that’s why this race matters more than the polls admit.

[Footnotes / Endnotes]

1. Ramaswamy, Vivek. Woke, Inc.: Inside Corporate America’s Social Justice Scam. New York: Center Street, 2021. The book that launched much of the public conversation on corporate capture by ideological forces; launch events occurred in late 2021.

2. On Amy Acton’s role: Ohio Department of Health orders during COVID-19, including stay-at-home directives signed March 2020 onward. See contemporaneous reporting from the Ohio Governor’s office and subsequent campaign coverage that tie her to school and business closures.

3. Vivek Ramaswamy’s move of operations and business considerations to Texas cited in the context of regulatory and tax environment differences; personal conversations referenced in the narrative align with public statements on business climate.

4. Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels (1848): Core text outlining class struggle, abolition of private property in means of production, and the overthrow of bourgeois society—echoed in modern “eat the rich” rhetoric and redistribution demands.

5. On Cahokia and Mississippian culture human sacrifice: Archaeological evidence from mound sites includes ritual killings, mass graves with bound individuals, and iconography suggesting sacrificial practices. See works such as “Cahokia: Mirror of the Cosmos” by Sally A. Kitt Chappell, or papers in the journals American Antiquity and Southeastern Archaeology. The topic remains sensitive in academic discourse due to implications for indigenous narratives under NAGPRA and related frameworks.

6. Biblical and spiritual warfare context drawn from ongoing research for The Politics of Heaven (forthcoming 2027), exploring themes of sacrifice, Nephilim, Book of Enoch traditions, and modern political manifestations of ancient patterns. Cross-referenced with the Biblical Archaeology Review archives and primary texts such as the Dead Sea Scrolls.

7. Trump business and Truth Social: Public financial disclosures and platform launch in 2021 following deplatforming events post-2020 election. Salary return precedent set during the presidency.

8. Polling critique: Corporate media polls (e.g., New York Times/Siena) often show tighter races than internal campaign data; ad revenue incentives in close contests are a documented dynamic in political media economics. The referenced internals are from direct campaign-adjacent observation, as described.

9. Personal corporate fixer experience: Drawn from executive career in aerospace and program management, including navigating external consultants and restoring accountability cultures—consistent with themes in The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business (author’s prior work).

10. Conference call insights during COVID: High-level briefings involving Ohio officials, business leaders (e.g., amusement sector revenue concerns), and legislators in early 2021, providing a ground-level view of policy impacts versus public messaging.

[Vast Bibliography for Further Reading]

Primary Sources & Author’s Works:

• Hoffman, Rich. Tail of the Dragon. (Personal narrative on resilience, discipline, and cultural critique.)

• Hoffman, Rich. The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business. (Executive philosophy on imposing will, fixing cultures, and warrior ethos in corporate settings.)

• Hoffman, Rich. The Politics of Heaven. (Forthcoming 2027; manuscript in circulation among select readers. Explores biblical conspiracies, spiritual warfare, sacrifice motifs across history, giants/Nephilim traditions, and modern political applications.)

• Ramaswamy, Vivek. Woke, Inc.: Inside Corporate America’s Social Justice Scam. Center Street, 2021.

• Ramaswamy, Vivek. Nation of Victims: Identity Politics, the Death of Merit, and the Path Back to Excellence. Center Street, 2022.

• Ramaswamy, Vivek. Truths: The Future of America First (or related campaign/policy writings).

• Trump, Donald J. The Art of the Deal. Random House, 1987. (And subsequent business/political books demonstrating pre-presidency wealth creation.)

• Marx, Karl, and Friedrich Engels. The Communist Manifesto. 1848. (Standard editions with historical analysis recommended.)

• Bible (various translations, with emphasis on Old Testament sacrifice systems, New Testament grace theology, and prophetic/spiritual warfare passages such as Ephesians 6, Revelation).

• Book of Enoch (Ethiopic and other versions; translated editions for study of fallen angels, giants, and pre-flood traditions).

• Dead Sea Scrolls (various editions and commentaries; connection to biblical conspiracies and alternative histories).

Archaeology, Ancient History & Sacrifice Studies:

• Chappell, Sally A. Kitt. Cahokia: Mirror of the Cosmos. University of Chicago Press, 2002. (Detailed on mound-builder culture, urban planning, and ritual practices.)

• Pauketat, Timothy R. Cahokia: Ancient America’s Great City on the Mississippi. Viking, 2009. (Archaeological synthesis including evidence of social hierarchy and ritual violence.)

• Emerson, Thomas E., et al. Cahokia and the Hinterlands. University of Illinois Press. (Papers on Mississippian iconography and possible sacrificial contexts.)

• Biblical Archaeology Review (back issues since ~1970s; lifelong reference for evidence-based approach to biblical lands, artifacts, and cultural parallels).

• Windover Bog People studies (Florida archaeological site ~8000 years old; “smoking gun” discussions in alternative history circles regarding pre-Columbian populations and narratives).

• NAGPRA-related critiques and repatriation debates (Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act implications for scientific study of sacrifice and mound cultures).

• Axumite Empire and ancient African/Levantine histories (cross-cultural parallels in monumental architecture and ritual).

• British prehistory and mound/ritual sites (e.g., connections drawn in alternative archaeology to global patterns).

Philosophy, Politics & Cultural Critique:

• Nietzsche, Friedrich. Thus Spoke Zarathustra and related works (Overman/Übermensch concept as a philosophical root for self-mastery and the imposition of order on chaos; whip symbolism in family tradition and martial discipline).

• Conservative and America First policy writings (Trump administration records on economy, deregulation, opportunity zones).

• Critiques of labor movements and Marxist infiltration in unions/corporate HR (historical analyses of how legitimate worker protections evolved into ideological capture).

• Media evolution critiques: From 1950s-80s family-oriented themes to later hedonistic/occult influences (personal observations spanning decades; cross-reference with cultural historians on music and spiritual warfare angles).

• Two-tier justice and institutional failure analyses (drawn from grand jury service experience in Butler County, observations of prosecutorial dynamics, and application to national politics).

Current Events & Ohio-Specific:

• Ohio 2026 Gubernatorial Race coverage: Vivek Ramaswamy (R) vs. Amy Acton (D); primary results May 2026 showing strong GOP consolidation.

• COVID-19 policy retrospectives in Ohio: DeWine/Acton/Husted briefings, business impacts (Cedar Fair, Six Flags sector concerns), school closures, and subsequent political weaponization.

• David Pepper’s political activities and DNC Ohio role; Mark Elias’s election law involvement in multiple states.

• Business climate comparisons: Ohio vs. Texas regulatory/tax environments post-COVID; company relocation trends.

• Polling and media economics: Discussions of NYT/Siena and similar polls versus internal campaign data; ad revenue dynamics in perceived close races.

• Local Ohio issues: Butler County politics, Lakota schools, tax policies, 2nd Amendment culture, and community events as a microcosm of state race.

Spiritual Warfare & Broader Conspiracies:

• Population agenda and globalist critiques (cross-reference with primary sources on UN/WEF-style initiatives, historical secret society influences).

• UFO/non-human intelligence disclosure discussions (personal early interest from 4th grade onward; ties to ancient tech/giants lore and modern spiritual framing).

• Music and cultural degradation as spiritual attack (1950s love/family themes vs. 1990s+ rage/hedonism/occult; analysis of industry shifts and societal impact).

Additional References for Context:

• Personal protection and concealed carry practicalities in Ohio (legal framework, functional tool philosophy vs. show).

• Costco and public interaction patterns (anonymity vs. recognition in advocacy work; route creativity for security).

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

I Told You So: The Slow March of Communism in America and Why Warnings Went Unheeded

I’ve spent a good portion of my life studying the patterns of human behavior, the currents of history, and the undercurrents of power that most people never bother to examine deeply. It’s not because I’m some oracle with a crystal ball, but because I’ve immersed myself in the totality of human endeavor—ancient texts, biblical archaeology, philosophy from Nietzsche to the gunfighter ethos of self-reliance, and the hard lessons from real-world politics and business. That perspective has given me an edge in seeing where things are headed long before the crowd catches up. And right now, as we sit here in 2026 watching outright communists and their fellow travelers gain traction in elections across the country, including right here in Ohio, I can’t help but chuckle and say what I’ve said so many times before: I told you so.

It’s astonishing, really, how quickly people forget—or choose to ignore—the warnings. Just the other day, I was flipping through Fox News and saw Jesse Watters, Laura Ingraham, and even Greg Gutfeld on Gutfeld! Looking somewhat bewildered by the state of things. They’re grappling with the radical left’s influence, the populism that Bernie Sanders tapped into and figures like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez represent, all while trying to navigate corporate media structures that prefer softball topics over hard truths. It’s the same crowd that, more than a decade ago, was all too eager to sideline voices like mine when I dared to call out the creeping socialism in public sector unions, education, and the broader culture. Back then, during the Tea Party era and around 2012, the orthodox establishment thought they could stuff the genie back in the bottle and return to the comfortable George W. Bush days of controlled opposition. They were wrong, and history has proven it.

Let me take you back to those days, because the personal stories provide the color and context that make this more than just abstract political theory. Over a decade ago, I was a frequent guest on radio shows, including weekday slots from 9 to 12 and weekend mornings on platforms like the Darryl Park show, reaching millions. Clear Channel (now iHeartMedia) had higher-ups who would pull me aside or call after my segments. “Rich,” they’d say, “you’re talking about socialism and communism in the public schools and unions—that’s too extreme. Communism is a bad word. You’re upsetting people.” They didn’t see the harm in the rising costs of labor in public education or in the influence of teachers’ unions funded by taxpayer money. I was in the extreme minority pushing back.

The Cincinnati Enquirer even came out to my house for an exposé. They thought my approach to political campaigning was crazy—cracking bullwhips with targets, demonstrating precision, discipline, and the willingness to stand apart from the crowd. My family history with whips as tools of mastery in rural Kentucky informed that symbolism: it’s about imposing will on chaos, not violence. But to them, it was a spectacle. I knew better. Human nature responds to symbols of strength and self-mastery. People sense authenticity. That’s why my message resonated even as the gatekeepers tried to shut it down.

I remember one particular push around public sector unions. John Kasich’s administration in Ohio dealt with reforms, but the backlash was fierce. I argued then, as I do now, that public unions should not be funded with taxpayer dollars in ways that entrench political power at the expense of the very people paying the bills. Unions affiliated with progressive causes, pushing agendas that bleed into classrooms—confiscatory property taxes funding Marxist-influenced education. It wasn’t popular. People told me I was making enemies, that “a lot of people make money off that chaos.” In 2012, things didn’t go well for those reforms in some places, and suddenly I was being pushed aside as an advisor or voice worth listening to. New forces were taking over, they thought. But I’ve seen this cycle many times in my life.

Fast forward, and here we are. Trump’s movement exposed the rot; MAGA became the populist force on the right, while the left’s version coalesced around Sanders and then more radical figures. They tried to gloss it over with Schumer and Pelosi types, promoting AOC as the face of left-wing populism. In Ohio, we see echoes in candidates like Amy Acton, the former health director now running as a Democrat for governor against Vivek Ramaswamy. People are asking, “Is this who we are?” Yes, it is the natural evolution when you let structures rot from within.

Around that time of trouble with Clear Channel, I didn’t care much about staying in the corporate fold. They offered me slots on stations like in Ann Arbor, Michigan, but I wanted freedom. Private ownership was already being gobbled up, a pattern tied to larger centralizing forces. Instead, I joined Matt Clark on his radio show in Michigan—around 2013-2014—and we read the planks of the Communist Manifesto on air. I hadn’t even heard of The Naked Communist by W. Cleon Skousen at first, but once I dug in, it was revelatory. Skousen’s 1958 book distills communist strategy: infiltrating institutions, undermining culture, using education as a weapon. We laid it out on air, and it hit hard because it mirrored what was happening.

The Communist Manifesto by Marx and Engels outlines transitional measures that sound eerily familiar: abolition of private property in land, heavy progressive income taxes, centralization of credit, free public education (with a specific ideological bent), and more. Skousen expanded on how these were being advanced not through overt revolution but gradual infiltration—especially post-WWII, through the New Deal era, the 1960s counterculture, and into public schools via the Department of Education created in the late 1970s. I’ve been railing against this for decades: property taxes as confiscation of wealth to fund socialist indoctrination. Drop your kids off for “babysitting” while they absorb attitudes hostile to capitalism, family, and individual liberty.

Look at the evidence. Public sector unions grew massively, wielding power through collective bargaining that influences policy far beyond wages. In Ohio, the 2011 battles over Senate Bill 5 highlighted the tensions. Critics called reforms anti-worker; supporters saw them as protecting taxpayers. The long-term effect? Generations raised on these ideas are voting for policies that expand government control. We see it in New York and Portland, and in attempts here in Ohio. Soccer, as I’ve joked, is a socialist game—low scores, penalizing individual excellence, team dependency. Contrast that with American football: capitalism, specialization, big plays rewarding talent and strategy. Little cultural elements seep in, shaping mindsets.

Fox News and corporate media during the Trump exile period played a role, too. When they thought he was done, they pivoted to DeSantis and conventional Republicans, hoping to normalize. Many in the media wanted less politics, more sports, grilling hot dogs—anything to avoid offending advertisers. Truth-telling took a backseat to revenue. I warned them. The corporate structure favors controlled narratives. But voters rejected it. Two terms of Trump, ongoing cultural shifts, and now the chickens coming home to roost.

My own journey informs this. I’ve worked since age 12, from manual labor to aerospace executive. I’ve seen power operate in the shadows—from Cincinnati’s riverfront politics in the 1990s and interactions with figures across the aisle to insights from organized networks where coded signals and plausible deniability ruled. Ethics kept me straight: sober, honest, observant. That front-row seat to how establishments maintain control taught me not to let others define my value. I don’t give people power over me through consensus or popularity contests. That’s partly the Overman ethos—imposing will on circumstances—resilience over victimhood.

People ridiculed me for talking about communism in schools or cultural Marxism. “Conspiracy theory!” they said. Yet here we are, with Marxist ideas normalized in curricula, DEI initiatives, attacks on private property, and big government solutions. The Naked Communist warned of this infiltration decades ago. Skousen detailed 45 goals, many of which involved media, education, and the weakening of moral foundations. We’ve seen music shift from 1950s-80s family themes to hedonism and occult influences, eroding values. Public schools, funded by confiscated wealth, became transmission belts for these ideas.

I’ve always offered help sincerely—free advice from decades of study—out of a desire to strengthen families and communities. But many prefer scapegoats and the blame game. They sidelined voices like mine, thinking they could manage the narrative. When lives or policies fall apart, I don’t gloat maliciously, but there is satisfaction in the “I told you so.” It’s not personal profit; it’s validation of studying reality over wishful thinking. In business, politics, family—I’ve seen patterns repeat. Warnings about the socialist/Marxist wave, public unions, and education weren’t new; roots trace to the 1930s Red Decade, FDR’s expansions, and post-war shifts.

Now, with elections looming, including Ohio’s gubernatorial race, the question is whether people will learn. Vivek Ramaswamy represents pro-capitalist, America First energy—make money, innovate, don’t apologize. Opponents tap proletarian resentment: hate the rich, use government to redistribute. This is the apocalypse of learned helplessness versus the gunfighter spirit of self-mastery.

My upcoming book, The Politics of Heaven, delves deeper into these spiritual and historical dimensions—biblical conspiracies, giants, divine rebellion, spiritual warfare manifesting in earthly power struggles. It’s a treasure hunt through history showing how anti-human forces operate. Sharing the manuscript with serious readers has been encouraging. It ties ancient insights to modern battles, urging resilience rooted in faith and truth.

As we recently celebrated the Fourth of July—fireworks, patriotism, soccer matches rallying some—it’s a reminder of what’s at stake. American exceptionalism isn’t compatible with the collectivist mindset. I’ve withdrawn from chasing those who won’t listen; it’s their choice to run into the wall. But for those paying attention, the lessons are clear. Study the sources, question the structures, reject the slow poison.

In the end, my reputation has held because I base decisions on evidence and human nature, not fleeting trends. Whether it’s aliens and UAP disclosure (topics I’ve discussed for years, tying into ancient histories) or the communist undercurrents, time vindicates. People may owe apologies in 20 years, but I won’t hold my breath. The age of “I told you so” is here, not for ego, but as a hard-earned lesson: listen to those who’ve studied the long game, or choke on the consequences. Family, faith, self-reliance—these endure. Everything else is noise.

Footnotes

1. Observations on current Ohio politics and candidates.

2. Personal radio experiences and Clear Channel interactions.

3. W. Cleon Skousen, The Naked Communist (1958).

4. Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, The Communist Manifesto (1848).

5. Coverage of Ohio public sector union debates, e.g., 2011 reforms.

Bibliography

• Skousen, W. Cleon. The Naked Communist. Ensign Publishing, 1958.

• Marx, Karl, and Friedrich Engels. The Communist Manifesto. 1848.

• Various news sources on Ohio elections 2026 and historical union battles.

• Personal archives and observations from radio, politics, and aerospace career.

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

What Are the Politics of Satan: What UAP Disclosure means to all of us, a loss of sovereignty over our country, even our own minds, which we never really had.

Human history may not merely be the history of humans interacting with one another. It may also be the history of humanity interacting with forms of intelligence that are perceived through altered states, religious experiences, visions, dreams, shamanic practices, meditation, ritual, and perhaps other mechanisms not yet fully understood.

I know this all sounds pretty crazy to a lot of people. But that’s only because the truth has been buried under layers of official stories, political correctness, and institutional pressure for a very long time. I didn’t want to be that guy—the one who connects the dots between ancient Ohio earthworks, strange artifacts that don’t fit the narrative, non-human intelligence, and the spiritual forces that have been pulling strings on human politics since the beginning. As an aerospace executive who has spent decades managing complex programs, dealing with real-world engineering challenges, and advising on politics, I would much rather focus on more profitable and straightforward work. But here I am, sitting in front of the evidence, realizing I have to write this book, The Politics of Heaven, because the journey has pulled me in too deep to ignore.

A few weeks ago, my oldest daughter took a photograph of me at the Johnson-Humrickhouse Museum in Coshocton, Ohio. I was sitting right in front of the Newark Holy Stones. She’s a professional photographer, and she knows how to capture more than just an image—she captures the moment when someone is wrestling with something big. In that photo, you can see it on my face. I didn’t want this. I didn’t ask for it. But as I sat there looking at those stones found by surveyor David Wyrick in the 1860s, considering everything I’ve seen in my travels, my reading, and my own experiences, I knew I had to push forward. This book isn’t just about ancient mounds in Ohio. It’s about the real power behind human history—what the Bible calls spiritual warfare, what modern disclosures call UAP or non-human intelligence, and how those forces have shaped politics, culture, and power on this planet for thousands of years.

Let me start with the Shaman of Newark, that remarkable little stone figurine found in the Newark Earthworks. It’s a small carving, often called the Wray Figurine, depicting a figure in bear regalia—a bear head as a headdress, bear paws on the hands—holding a severed human head in its lap. It was discovered in 1881 near one of the burial mounds at the Great Circle. Archaeologists usually describe it as a shaman in the middle of a transformation ritual, tapping into animal spirits for power. That interpretation makes sense on one level, but it also feels like it’s missing something deeper. Why a severed head? What kind of ceremony or understanding of life, death, and power does that represent? In a culture that built some of the most sophisticated geometric earthworks in the ancient world—the Octagon, the Great Circle, the precise lunar alignments at Newark—this wasn’t primitive superstition. These people had knowledge. They had mathematics. They had a worldview that saw connections among the earth, the sky, and forces beyond the material world.

John Hancock, the architect and author who played a major role in securing the Ohio Hopewell sites’ designation as UNESCO World Heritage Sites, has done excellent work examining these mounds with fresh eyes. I met him at Fort Ancient after grabbing his book at the Newark visitors center. As a retired professor from the University of Cincinnati, he approaches the earthworks as architecture—with intentional design, astronomical alignments, and ceremonial precision. Listening to him speak and reading his travel guide Ancient Ohio, you start to see these sites not as random piles of dirt but as massive, planned expressions of a sophisticated culture. The Newark Earthworks alone cover an enormous area with geometric perfection that still impresses today. These weren’t built by people who didn’t understand the world. They were building something that reflected their understanding of cosmic order.

But here’s where it gets uncomfortable for the official narrative. Right alongside these sites, we have artifacts such as the Newark Holy Stones—the Decalogue Stone, with what appears to be a condensed version of the Ten Commandments in ancient Hebrew, the Keystone, and others found by David Wyrick in the 1860s. The mainstream view is that they are hoaxes, planted to push a pro-Christian or anti-indigenous narrative during the Civil War era. David Wyrick’s life was ruined over it; he died in 1864 from an opium overdose after being accused of fraud. The museum now frames them squarely in the context of 19th-century politics, abolitionism, and efforts to undermine Native claims to the land.

I get why that story is convenient. But it’s also too neat. Why go to all that trouble to carve intricate Hebrew inscriptions if it was just a hoax? And why do similar mysterious tablets keep showing up in Adena and Hopewell contexts—the Cincinnati Tablet, the Wilmington Tablet? The Wilmington Tablet, found in Ohio, has markings that some see as reminiscent of Olmec designs from far away in Mexico. The Cincinnati Tablet was pulled from display at the Cincinnati Museum Center, in part due to NAGPRA sensitivities. These aren’t isolated oddities. They point to long-distance travel and cultural exchange that the standard timeline struggles to explain.

We already know the Hopewell were master traders. They brought copper from the Lake Superior mines hundreds of miles away—mines that some evidence suggests were worked as far back as 5,000 BC or earlier. They hauled obsidian from Wyoming, mica from the Appalachians. If they could do that, why is it so unthinkable that ideas, artifacts, or even people moved along the Mississippi River system and the Gulf to places like the Olmec heartland? The dismissal feels less like science and more like an effort to protect a preferred story. And that story gets even more protected when NAGPRA kicks in, repatriating remains and limiting study of artifacts that might challenge the narrative of continuous indigenous occupation by specific modern tribes.

The Shawnee, for example, have a connection to this region, but they weren’t here continuously for thousands of years. They returned to the Miami Valley in the 1700s after being displaced. Yet modern politics treats them and other tribes as the unquestioned inheritors of everything Adena and Hopewell, giving them influence over what gets displayed or studied. This isn’t respect for evidence; it’s politics overriding archaeology. We’ve talked about this before—the Windover bog people in Florida, from 8,000 years ago, whose DNA doesn’t neatly match that of later tribes. Early populations were more diverse. The idea of unbroken cultural continuity from the mounds to today’s tribes is convenient for land claims and repatriation, but the physical record tells a more complicated story.

This brings me to the bigger question at the heart of The Politics of Heaven: What are the politics of Satan? Is he a Democrat? A Republican? Or something else entirely—something that operates above and behind human parties?

I see history through the lens of spiritual warfare, as described in Ephesians 6:12—“For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” The ancient world was full of accounts of gods, giants, watchers, and interactions with non-human beings. The Book of Enoch, the Dead Sea Scrolls, biblical references to Nephilim—these aren’t fairy tales. They describe real influences on human civilization. The mounds, the alignments, the shamanic figures—they may reflect attempts to tap into or negotiate with those forces.

Modern UAP disclosures add another layer. The government has admitted to encounters with craft and beings that defy our physics. Reports of multiple species interacting with humanity. If that’s true—and the evidence is mounting—then humanity has never had full sovereignty. There has always been an outside influence shaping events. Satan, in the biblical sense, isn’t some cartoon devil with a pitchfork. He’s a sophisticated adversary with a political agenda: rebellion against the Creator, domination of humanity, and the perversion of God’s order. His “politics” aren’t partisan in the way we think of left versus right. They are anti-human, anti-God, and aimed at keeping us enslaved to deception, whether through pagan practices in ancient mounds, occult influences in modern culture, or centralized power structures that erode individual liberty and truth-seeking.

Look at how the narrative around these sites is managed. Inconvenient artifacts are dismissed as fakes or removed from view. Oral tradition is elevated over physical evidence under updated NAGPRA rules. The shaman figure holding a severed head gets sanitized into “spiritual transformation,” while any suggestion of deeper, darker knowledge or outside influence is shut down. Meanwhile, we celebrate the geometric precision of the earthworks—the lunar alignments at Newark are astonishing—but stop short of asking what kind of knowledge enabled that, or what spiritual purpose it served.

I’ve spent my life in aerospace, watching humanity push into space, building rockets, solving technical problems. I’ve seen model rocketry with my grandson, teaching resilience when launches fail in bad weather. That hands-on experience makes me appreciate what the ancient builders achieved. But it also makes me skeptical of stories that downplay their sophistication or attribute everything to mundane explanations while ignoring the anomalies.

My travels have taken me to many of these sites, from Newark to Fort Ancient, from the Mothman Museum in Point Pleasant to arguments with staff at the British Museum over the crystal skull (another “fake” that raises the same questions—why the effort if it’s not real?). I love museums and their gift shops. I’ve found replicas of the Wilmington Tablet there, and it always strikes me how obscure these things are to the average visitor. Yet they hold clues.

The Politics of Satan plays out in the suppression of truth. It plays out when we prioritize feelings and political reconciliation over evidence. It plays out when we assume ancient people were isolated primitives rather than connected participants in a larger cosmic drama. And it plays out today in the way power structures—whether in government, academia, or media—control what we’re allowed to question.

This book is my effort to follow the evidence wherever it leads, even when it takes me places I didn’t want to go. It’s personal. It includes family stories, like that rocket launch with my grandson on a windy day, or RV trips, or political activism in Butler County. Because truth-seeking isn’t abstract, it happens in real life, with real people, while you’re trying to live, work, and raise resilient kids in a world under unseen influences.

I don’t claim to have all the answers. But I do know this: the official narrative has too many holes. The mounds, the tablets, the shaman, the trade networks, the astronomical knowledge—they point to something more. Non-human intelligence has been here a long time. The question is whether we recognize the spiritual dimension and reclaim our sovereignty under God, or continue letting the politics of rebellion shape our future.

That’s the journey The Politics of Heaven invites you on. It’s not comfortable. But ignoring it won’t make it go away. The truth is coming fast, whether we’re ready or not.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

The Big Muskie Bucket, The Wilds, and the Heart of American Energy Innovation

I just got back from a family trip that turned into one of those unexpected journeys where you set out thinking one thing and come away with something far deeper. We headed out to The Wilds in southeastern Ohio, that remarkable conservation center and safari-style wildlife park built on what used to be strip-mined land. I love zoos and conservation efforts in the right way—the kind that actually preserves species and land while recognizing that humans are part of the picture, not some parasitic afterthought. What I didn’t fully expect was how a side trip just south of there to see the remnants of the Big Muskie would crystallize so many thoughts I’ve been carrying about energy, innovation, capitalism, and the way the political left has twisted conservation into something that often works against human flourishing.

The Wilds sits on nearly ten thousand acres of reclaimed surface-mined land in Muskingum County, near Cumberland. It opened to the public in 1994 after the Central Ohio Coal Company, a subsidiary of American Electric Power (AEP), donated over 9,000 acres to the International Center for the Preservation of Wild Animals. That gift, combined with the reclamation work already underway, transformed what had been an industrial extraction site into one of North America’s largest conservation centers. We stayed right there at the new Hellbender RV Campground at The Wilds—beautiful sites on that same land that once fed coal into the power grid. From the campground, you can head into the park proper and experience open-air safaris rolling through habitats where giraffes, rhinoceroses, cheetahs, and other species roam across rolling terrain that, in its own way, echoes the African Serengeti. The landscape doesn’t look like the steep Allegheny foothills that were here before mining; the stripping and reclamation flattened and reshaped sections into wide, grassy vistas perfect for large herbivores. It’s not the exact ecology that existed pre-mining, but it’s productive, beautiful, and teeming with life in ways that serve conservation science and education every single day.

One afternoon, we drove the short distance south to Miner’s Memorial Park to see the Big Muskie bucket—the last major remnant of what was once the largest dragline excavator ever built. Standing there, walking inside that colossal bucket, touching the steel that once clawed through hundreds of feet of overburden, you can’t help but feel the scale of human ingenuity. The machine itself, officially a Bucyrus-Erie 4250-W, stood nearly twenty-two stories tall, weighed around thirteen and a half thousand tons, and swung a 220-cubic-yard bucket capable of lifting 325 tons of earth and rock in a single bite. The bucket alone is the size of a twelve-car garage or easily two full-size buses side by side. When it operated from 1969 to 1991, Big Muskie moved more than 483 million cubic yards of material, revealing high-sulfur coal seams that powered Ohio homes, industries, and the broader grid through plants like the Muskingum River Generating Station. It walked on massive shoes, its boom stretching over three hundred feet, built on site because nothing that big could be transported whole. Twenty-four hours a day, three hundred sixty-four days a year, it did the work that surface mining made possible—safer in many respects than sending men deep underground into the old room-and-pillar mines, and efficient enough to supply the energy that built modern Ohio.

I grew up in the seventies and eighties, hearing the news coverage of strip mining in Ohio. It was always framed as an environmental catastrophe—radical voices and mainstream outlets alike talking about the “rape of the land,” the destruction of precious topsoil, acid mine drainage polluting streams, and corporate greed tearing up the earth for profit. Central Ohio was a focal point of that conversation. You couldn’t miss it. The narrative was clear: this was primitive, destructive, something that enlightened environmental regulation would eventually rein in and correct. And regulation did come—the federal Surface Mining Control and Reclamation Act of 1977 imposed new standards for contouring, topsoil replacement, and revegetation. I’m not against sensible environmental protections. What concerns me is when those protections become a vehicle for anti-capitalist ideology that ignores the human benefits of energy production and pretends that the companies doing the actual work weren’t already innovating reclamation methods long before politicians and bureaucrats showed up to take credit or impose penalties.

Because here’s what you see when you stand at the Big Muskie bucket and then drive back to The Wilds: the power company that operated the machine also owned vast stretches of the land. They extracted the coal—formed over three hundred million years in ancient swamps and forests—and turned it into usable energy that lit homes, ran factories, and powered the machines that built the modern world. Then they participated in turning the worked-out land into something new and valuable. The Wilds exists in large part because of that private-sector decision to donate thousands of acres rather than walk away or fight endless legal battles. The reclamation wasn’t just compliance; it became an opportunity. What had been stripped to fuel progress was reshaped into a world-class center for wildlife conservation, research, and public education. You can sit at the Overlook Cafe or Terrace Grill at The Wilds, look out over the valley at giraffes and rhinos moving through grasslands that mining and reclamation made possible, and eat a good meal with running water and modern conveniences while the animals graze below. Try doing that with a picnic basket on raw, unrestored ground in the middle of nowhere and tell me which approach actually serves both people and wildlife better.

That contrast hit me hard. The same companies the political left loves to demonize as destroyers of the planet were the ones who made The Wilds possible. AEP’s Central Ohio Coal Company didn’t just comply with later regulations; they were already engaged in preservation and restoration efforts. The environmental movement often attaches itself to these stories after the fact, claiming moral victory while ignoring that the capital, the engineering, and the willingness to take risks came from the private sector. Without the coal extraction that powered Ohio’s growth, without the wealth created by that enterprise, there would have been far less capacity to fund or even imagine large-scale conservation projects like this one. It’s the classic pattern: innovators and producers do the hard work, create the surplus, and then the critics arrive to regulate, tax, and re-narrate history as a story of exploitation that only enlightened government could fix.

I thought about that same dynamic when we talk about today’s energy battles, particularly around nuclear power in Ohio. The two plants—Davis-Besse near Toledo and Perry near Cleveland—have long been critical to the state’s grid. I’ve heard the numbers bandied about; depending on the year and how you count, they contribute a substantial share of reliable baseload power, something in the range of ten to perhaps fifteen percent or more of Ohio’s electricity at times, and historically more when coal was dominant. The exact percentage varies in conversation, but the point is that they matter enormously for grid stability. In a state where natural gas now supplies roughly half or more of generation and coal has fallen sharply from its peak, nuclear provides the steady, high-capacity-factor power that intermittent sources can’t match. Yet for years we’ve watched political attacks from the Obama and Biden eras—subsidies fights, regulatory pressure, public narratives framing nuclear as dangerous or unnecessary—while the same voices rarely offer a credible, scalable replacement that keeps the lights on and the economy growing. It’s the Big Muskie story all over again: paint the producers as villains, ignore the benefits ordinary people receive every time they flip a switch or charge a device, and push policies that ultimately raise costs or reduce reliability for everyone, especially working families.

You see the same pattern in how the left approaches energy restriction as a tool of control. Whether it’s coal in the seventies or nuclear today, the rhetoric is that these things are existential threats to the planet and that only by limiting human access to abundant, affordable energy can we “save” the Earth. But energy is what lifts the burden of labor from human beings. A person hauling water by hand all day isn’t freer or more virtuous than one who turns a tap and uses the saved time to build, create, or rest. Electricity powers the data centers, training the AI models that will transform medicine, logistics, and discovery. It powers the factories, hospitals, schools, and farms that feed billions. The notion that we should all retreat to some primitive campfire existence—sitting around telling stories about pagan gods while the productive capacity of civilization withers—isn’t conservation; it’s a recipe for poverty and stagnation dressed up as virtue. The environmental movement has deep strains of this anti-human thinking, sometimes explicit in population-control rhetoric or degrowth economics that treat human ingenuity and consumption as the problem rather than the solution.

Standing inside that Big Muskie bucket puts it in perspective. That machine represented the best engineering of its era applied to the problem of extracting energy from the ground efficiently and at scale. It wasn’t pretty. It changed the landscape. But it also delivered the energy that made post-war Ohio prosperous, that kept factories running, that let families in Middletown and across the state live with lights, refrigeration, and opportunity their grandparents could only dream of. The coal it uncovered took three hundred million years to form; we used it in decades to build a civilization. Then the same enterprise that did the extracting turned around and helped create The Wilds on the worked land. That’s not destruction followed by cosmetic repair. That’s productive use followed by genuine restoration and the creation of new value. It’s what real conservation looks like when it’s driven by people who understand both the land and the ledger.

I kept coming back to the parallel with the fight over slavery in this country. Republicans led the effort to abolish it, at enormous cost in blood and treasure, while many Democrats and the broader establishment either defended the institution or dragged their feet. After the war, it was Republicans who pushed the early civil rights amendments and enforcement. Yet somewhere along the line, the narrative flipped, and today the party that fought to end slavery is often painted as the problem while the party whose members founded the KKK and enforced Jim Crow for generations gets to claim the moral high ground on race. The pattern repeats with energy and conservation. The companies and workers who built the power grid, engineered machines like Big Muskie, extracted the resources that industrialized the nation, and then reclaimed the land for new uses—these are treated as villains. The activists and politicians who arrived later, often with no skin in the game and plenty of opportunity for moral posturing, get to define “environmentalism” as whatever restricts the producers. It’s the same rhetorical capture, and it serves the same underlying goal: concentrating power in institutions that claim to speak for the Earth while actually limiting human potential.

At The Wilds, you see the better path. Capital enterprise created the wealth and the technology. It extracted the resource that powered progress. It then donated the land and supported the transformation into a living classroom for conservation science. The restaurant with the view, the safari vehicles, the research programs, the campground where families like mine can stay on the very ground that once fed coal into the grid—all of it exists because someone took the risk, did the work, made the profit, and then chose to leave the place better in meaningful ways. The strip mining didn’t “destroy” the land in any permanent sense; it changed it, and human ingenuity changed it again into something that now supports species that never lived here naturally in these numbers. That’s the story of civilization itself: we impose order and purpose on raw nature, we extract what we need to thrive, and when we’re at our best, we restore and improve rather than consume and abandon.

I think about my own work and the themes in The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business—the idea that you impose your will on circumstances rather than waiting for perfect conditions, that resilience and disciplined action turn challenges into advantages. The men who ran Big Muskie didn’t have the luxury of modern environmental impact statements or endless public comment periods. They had a job to do: get the coal out safely and efficiently to keep the power flowing. They did it with machines that still boggle the mind. Then the next generation of the same enterprise looked at the worked land and saw not a scar but an opportunity for something new. That’s the gunfighter spirit applied to energy and land use. You don’t retreat from the necessary work because critics call it ugly. You do it well, you do it responsibly within reason, and you leave the place positioned for the next chapter.

Visiting both sites in the same trip—the living conservation success at The Wilds and the monumental tool that helped create the conditions for it—ought to be required for anyone who wants to have an informed opinion about energy policy in this country. You can’t stand inside that bucket, read the history of how much earth it moved and how much power it ultimately enabled, then walk the safari trails where rhinos and giraffes now graze on reclaimed ground, and still believe the simple story that extraction equals destruction and only government regulators plus activists equal salvation. The truth is more interesting and more hopeful. Human beings using reason, capital, and engineering solved the problem of energy scarcity that had kept our ancestors poor and short-lived. Along the way, we made mistakes, as every generation does. But we also built the surplus that lets us fund conservation at scales that previous societies could never have imagined. The Wilds is proof of that. The Big Muskie bucket is proof of the tool that made part of it possible.

We’re in a moment right now where the same arguments are playing out over nuclear power, over natural gas development, over any serious attempt to expand reliable generation to meet the exploding demands of AI data centers and electrification. The political left still reaches for the same rhetorical weapons: portray the producers as greedy or reckless, emphasize risks while downplaying benefits, offer no realistic replacement that maintains or increases living standards, and treat any expansion of human productive capacity as inherently suspect. It’s the Big Muskie fight with better public relations. The companies that actually keep the grid running—whether legacy coal operators that have reclaimed land or the nuclear fleet that provides steady power—are doing the real work. The activists protesting outside are often performing for an audience that has never had to keep the lights on for millions of people or balance a multi-billion-dollar capital investment against regulatory uncertainty.

I came away from this trip more convinced than ever that the path forward isn’t to demonize the enterprises that built our energy foundation or to pretend that conservation requires halting human progress. It’s to recognize that the best conservation often flows from the same innovative, risk-taking, profit-seeking institutions that extract resources productively in the first place. The Wilds wouldn’t exist without the coal mining that preceded it. The power that lets us enjoy air-conditioned homes, smartphones, and yes, even the electric vehicles some environmentalists champion, comes from somewhere. Right now, a significant portion of that, somewhere in Ohio, includes the steady output of our nuclear plants. We should be building more of that kind of reliable, high-density energy, not tearing it down under the guise of protecting a planet that has survived far worse than human industry and will continue long after our current debates are forgotten.

If you ever find yourself in southeastern Ohio, do what we did. Spend a few days at Hellbender Campground or one of the other lodging options at The Wilds. Take the open-air safari and watch animals that have no business being in Ohio thriving on land that mining and reclamation made suitable for them. Then drive south a short way to Miner’s Memorial Park and stand inside the Big Muskie bucket. Touch the steel. Imagine the machine walking across the landscape, the bucket biting into the earth, the coal coming out to feed the boilers that kept the grid alive. Talk to the exhibits about the workers who ran it and the land that came after. Then go back to The Wilds and have lunch at the overlook with a view of the valley. You’ll see, as I did, that the story of energy in America isn’t a simple morality play of villains and heroes. It’s the story of human beings using their minds and their tools to turn raw materials into civilization, and then, at our best, using the surplus to restore and improve what we touched.

That trip reminded me why I keep returning to these themes in my writing and podcast. The battles over energy, over land use, over what counts as “conservation”—they’re never just about science or engineering. They’re about whether we believe human beings have the right and the capacity to shape the world productively, or whether we accept a vision that treats us as a problem to be managed and reduced. The Big Muskie and The Wilds together make the case for the former. They show what free people and free enterprise can accomplish when they’re allowed to work, to risk, to profit, and to give back in ways that actually endure. Everything else is commentary.

If you’ve read The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, you know the mindset I’m talking about—imposing order and purpose on circumstances rather than surrendering to them. That’s what built the machine, that’s what powered the grid, and that’s what turned a mined landscape into a living conservation success. We need more of that spirit, not less. The age of disclosure is here, and understanding the politics of heaven—the deeper forces behind the attacks on human energy and human life—matters more than ever. But for today, see the bucket and the park. Stand where the work was done and where the restoration happened. You’ll come away with a clearer head and a stronger conviction that the future belongs to those who build, not those who merely protest.

Footnotes

1. Specifications and operational history of Big Muskie drawn from contemporary engineering records and historical summaries maintained by the Ohio Department of Natural Resources at Miner’s Memorial Park.

2. Details on the land gift from Central Ohio Coal Company (AEP subsidiary) to the International Center for the Preservation of Wild Animals and the subsequent development of The Wilds come from the official history published on thewilds.org.

3. Ohio electricity generation mix data for recent years (natural gas dominant at approximately 50-59%, coal around 20-22%, nuclear from the two plants contributing roughly 10-13% of net generation) sourced from the U.S. Energy Information Administration state analysis and related reports covering the 2024-2026 periods.

4. Bucket capacity, machine weight, boom length, and total material moved by Big Muskie confirmed across multiple engineering and historical sources, including Bucyrus-Erie records and Ohio historical markers.

5. Description of current visitor experience at the Big Muskie bucket exhibit, including ability to stand inside the 220-cubic-yard bucket, based on Ohio State Parks and Ohio DNR public information as of 2025-2026.

6. Information on Hellbender RV Campground at The Wilds, its location on reclaimed land, and amenities, including safari discounts, from the official The Wilds website and 2025-2026 opening announcements.

7. Dining options at The Wilds (Overlook Cafe / Terrace Grill) with views over animal habitats confirmed via official site descriptions of food service and visitor experiences.

8. Broader context on surface mining reclamation practices pre- and post-1977 SMCRA, and the role of private land donation in creating large conservation areas, drawn from Ohio coal industry historical analyses and The Wilds timeline.

9. Recent developments regarding power purchase agreements for Ohio nuclear plants (Davis-Besse and Perry) supporting AI/data center demand, including Meta agreements announced in 2026, reported in industry and local news sources.

10. Philosophical and historical parallels regarding narratives around energy production, conservation, and political rhetoric are interpretive commentary grounded in the observable outcomes at the sites visited and long-term patterns in U.S. energy and environmental policy debates.

Bibliography

• “Big Muskie.” Wikipedia. Accessed 2026. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Big_Muskie (overview of specifications, history, and connection to The Wilds).

• Ohio Department of Natural Resources. “Miner’s Memorial Park & Big Muskie’s Bucket.” ohiodnr.gov. Detailed visitor information and historical markers on the machine and reclamation.

• The Wilds. “History.” thewilds.org/history. Official timeline, including the land gift from Central Ohio Coal Company and the transformation of the mined land.

• U.S. Energy Information Administration. “Ohio – State Energy Profile Analysis.” eia.gov/states/OH/analysis. 2024-2026 data on electricity generation mix, nuclear contribution, natural gas, and coal shares.

• Ohio State Parks / Ohio DNR. Social media and site posts regarding the Big Muskie bucket as a tourist attraction and an engineering landmark (2025).

• The Wilds. “Hellbender RV Campground.” thewilds.org/hellbender-rv-campground. Details on the new campground on reclaimed land and visitor offerings.

• The Wilds. “Food and Shopping.” thewilds.org/food-and-shops. Descriptions of Overlook Cafe and Terrace Grill with habitat views.

• Various contemporary reports on AEP / Central Ohio Coal Company operations and reclamation achievements, including historical coal industry studies from the Ohio Department of Natural Resources.

• Industry announcements regarding Vistra / Energy Harbor nuclear plants and 2026 power purchase agreements with Meta for Ohio nuclear output supporting data centers.

• Historical context on Surface Mining Control and Reclamation Act (SMCRA) of 1977 and its implementation in Ohio coal regions, drawn from state and federal regulatory histories.

This essay reflects my direct observations from the family trip, historical research, and long-standing convictions about energy, innovation, and the proper relationship between human enterprise and conservation. The views expressed are my own, grounded in what I saw on the ground and in what the record shows actually works.

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 on The Politics of Fear: Non-Huma…
	Anonymous on The Politics of Fear: Non-Huma…
	Rich Hoffman on Martin Luther, Renegade and Pr…
	Anonymous on Martin Luther, Renegade and Pr…
	Rich Hoffman on Why I Support Flock Cameras: A…
	Bruce Jones on Why I Support Flock Cameras: A…
	Anonymous on Sheriff Jones, the Big Tent: …
	Anonymous on Islam Means Submission: Jonath…
	Anonymous on THE SYSTEM WAS NEVER DESIGNED…
	Anonymous on THE SYSTEM WAS NEVER DESIGNED…

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: