Christianity as a Weapon of War: Unashamed Scripture, the Protection of Children, and the Duty to Fight Evil in Our Own Generation

If you came here looking for a populist hit piece, this is not that. I write for people who lead, want to lead, or at least refuse to stay on the couch while the culture is rewritten around their children. Scripture is not a campaign prop. It is the sharpest instrument I know for cutting through a coordinated lie. That is the politics of heaven: not party first, not personality first, but the question of whether a people will still call good good and evil evil when the price of doing so is social exile.

I. THE AGE OF DISCLOSURE AND THE POLITICS OF HEAVEN

We are living in what I call an age of disclosure. Not merely the disclosure of secrets in government files, though that conversation is loud enough. I mean something older and more dangerous: the moment when a civilization is forced to admit what it has been doing in the dark. The ideologies that were supposed to stay in graduate seminars leaked into human-resources manuals, then into public schools, then into pediatric clinics. The result is not a private lifestyle. The result is a public demand that the rest of us recite the new creed or be treated as a moral contaminant.

The politics of heaven answers that demand. Heaven is not a voting bloc. Heaven is not a branding exercise. Heaven is the claim that God made the world a certain way, that male and female are not costumes, that children are not raw material for adult ideology, and that a nation which inverts those realities will not stay strong merely because its GDP looks impressive for another quarter.[1]

Paul said he was not ashamed of the gospel of Christ.[2] That sentence is doing more work in 2026 than most platform planks. Shame is the enforcement mechanism of the present order. If they can make you embarrassed to name what you love, they do not have to refute you. They only have to watch you edit yourself until there is nothing left worth hearing.

I will not edit it.

II. FALSE COMPASSION IS NOT LOVE

Start with the word that has been most abused: compassion.

True compassion would protect children from irreversible medical decisions they cannot possibly understand. What we have instead is a coordinated social contagion, especially visible among elites, in which adults congratulate themselves for “affirming” a minor into a pathway of puberty blockers, cross-sex hormones, and surgery. That is not love. That is sacrificing children to an ideology. I will call it what it is: a form of child abuse dressed up as progress.[3]

I am not talking about the rare, severe, persistent cases that clinicians used to treat with extreme caution. I am talking about the sudden clustering, the peer networks, the online scripts, the school social transitions done behind parents’ backs, and the astonishing overrepresentation of transgender-identifying children in a handful of zip codes, friend groups, and celebrity households. When parents, schools, corporations, and entertainment all push the same story at once, vulnerable children get swept up. That is not a coincidence. It is social engineering, plain and simple.

Look at Hollywood. The list of high-profile actors and actresses with children who identify as transgender or non-binary has become a genre of its own. Charlize Theron, Jamie Lee Curtis, Robert De Niro, Jennifer Lopez, Megan Fox, Dwyane Wade, Annette Bening and Warren Beatty, Cynthia Nixon, Sigourney Weaver, Naomi Watts—the names keep accumulating.[4] In a country where transgender identification among youth was, until recently, vanishingly rare, that concentration is not “just visibility.” Visibility does not create statistical spikes this localized unless something in the environment is recruiting.

Some researchers and activists insist there is no social contagion, and they would be wrong. Other researchers, clinicians, and dissenters say the opposite, and the Cass Review in the United Kingdom was blunt about the weakness of the evidence base that was used to medicalize children.[5] I do not need a unanimous journal to use my eyes. When a belief system travels through prestige networks faster than it travels through farm towns, you are not watching a spontaneous awakening. You are watching fashion with a clinical billing code.

Scripture is not ambiguous about the created order. God created them male and female.[6] To catechize children into rebellion against that order is not pastoral care. It is a revolt against the Creator, outsourced to minors who will live with the consequences long after the adults have moved on to the next cause.

The proper Christian response is not cruelty. It is not mockery of the suffering. It is this: speak truth with clarity, protect children from harm, and offer genuine compassion to those who are distressed—without affirming the lie that is injuring them. Affirmation of a falsehood is not mercy. It is participation.

III. WHY THE RATES ARE NOT RANDOM

People who do not want to face this subject hide in averages. They will tell you that “only a small percentage” of children identify this way, as if a small percentage plus institutional capture is nothing. The point is not only prevalence. The point is location.

Certain circles have dramatically higher rates of trans-identifying children. Elite schools. Entertainment. Specific online subcultures. Certain therapeutic fashions. Human-resources departments that rewrote the rules of speech and then dared the rest of the country to object. The same class of people who draft the corporate training also sit on museum boards, donate to universities, and lecture the working class about which words are now violence.

I have watched this move through institutions the way termites move through a beam. You do not notice the first memo. You notice the tenth, when a teacher is punished for using ordinary sexed language, or a parent is treated as the threat for refusing to transition a twelve-year-old socially. By then the lie has become policy.

This is why I reject the slogan that “silence is kindness.” Silence in a captured institution is how the capture finishes. If you work in a place where DEI language has been used to smuggle gender ideology into childhood, you already know the mechanism. It was not a grassroots cry from children. It was a professional class writing rules that everyone else was expected to obey while calling the obedience righteousness.

I do not owe that project my vocabulary.

IV. YOU ARE NOT REQUIRED TO SURRENDER WHAT YOU LOVE

There is a related lie, and it is aimed at Christians specifically: that the loving thing is to mute your own faith so that people who despise it can feel comfortable.

I reject that.

It is one thing to say we should not be cruel. It is another thing to say that Islam, progressive sexual ideology, and the new civic religion of the public school must be handled with velvet, while Christian speech must be handled with a muzzle. I am supposed to be endlessly compassionate toward alternative sexual lifestyles and toward the latest curriculum, and then I am supposed to treat my own Scripture as a private hobby that might offend the room.

No.

You like what you like. I like what I like. I am not going to edit the Bible to make you happy. You do not care if I am unhappy. So I am going to talk about the Bible. I am going to talk about the Scripture I enjoy. I believe this is what God says, and I will not be ashamed of it.

That kind of honest, unapologetic speech is far more powerful than the aggressive politeness of people who sand their faith down until it can pass a diversity seminar. The world feels no obligation to make Christians comfortable. Reciprocal self-erasure is not tolerance. It is surrender.

As Paul said, I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ.[2] Speaking Scripture openly, without apology, is one of the most effective ways to push back against cultural pressure. It draws a clear line. It gives courage to people who have been staying quiet. Leaders who speak plainly strengthen the faithful and expose deception at the same time.

There is nothing wrong with liking Christian things and professing them openly. You do not have to put a lid on your viewpoint while everybody else imposes theirs and you are told to shut up and take it. That hour is over, or it should be.

V. THE MUSEUM OF THE BIBLE AND THE POWER OF BEING UNASHAMED

Let me give a point of reference I have used for years.

The Museum of the Bible in Washington, D.C., is one of my favorite places in the world.[7] I never liked Washington much until the political weather changed and I had reason to be there. I have been more than once. I am a member and a supporter. In the background of my life, I love using the Bible, and I love a building three blocks from the Capitol that says: here is the history of this book. See it. Relish it. Enjoy it.

They are not required to plant flags all over the National Mall. You can still go to the Smithsonian. You can still do every other official thing the capital offers. People love the Museum of the Bible anyway, because it feeds them. It does not pretend to be a neutral warehouse. It professes that this book is good. It is open about that goodness. It loves being good.

That is the model.

Other places I enjoy for the same reason: the Ark Encounter and the Creation Museum in northern Kentucky, the work of Ken Ham and Answers in Genesis.[8] I love those guys. I may not agree with their young-earth timeline. I am an old-earth kind of guy. We would argue, probably at length, about whether the earth is six thousand years old or many millions. I have read Ham. I understand the argument. I would still debate him profusely on the age of the earth. That disagreement does not cancel the thing I actually love: their embrace of goodness.

When you walk those sites, you cannot help but see how hard they try to be good, and they do not hide it. They do not cram it down every throat on earth. They also do not crush their own enjoyment to satisfy people who arrive already offended. The offended party does not mind offending you. It is quite fine to go the other way—to be audacious about your love for what you value. You do not have to destroy it to make someone else happy.

Jonathan Edwards understood the same principle in a different century. True religion is not mere outward show. When the heart is captured by the beauty of God and His word, it cannot stay silent. The joy overflows.[9] Dimming that joy to appease people who hate its source is not love, and it is not tolerance. It betrays the truth you claim to love.

You do not have to attack persons. You also must not shrink back. Let the light shine clearly. Those who love truth will be drawn to it. I have watched that happen in the galleries of the Museum of the Bible. Stand firm. Speak plainly. Enjoy God’s goodness without shame. That is every Christian’s duty, not a branding strategy for an election cycle.

VI. KEN HAM, BILL NYE, AND THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN CORE AND SECONDARY

I was at the Creation Museum not long ago, wearing a Museum of the Bible shirt—the kind I wear often, because it reminds me of the things I actually like when a lot of darkness surrounds me. The woman at the counter said it was great that I go to the Museum of the Bible. I told her I love that museum, and I also love what Ken Ham built. Ham set a public philosophy in motion. The exhibits are well done. I have read the books. I understand why the young-earth argument matters to the people who hold it.

The real discussion is larger than a debate-club win. Science and theology are allowed to argue. I would argue with Ham that the earth is much older than six thousand years. I would also tell Bill Nye that sneering at Genesis as if the only alternatives were a cartoon ark or a materialist closed system is a different kind of ignorance. The point for this essay is not to settle geology. The point is that Christians can disagree on the age of the earth and still refuse to surrender the created order, the moral law, and the right to love Scripture out loud.

That is maturity. Rally around the core of the confession, not around every secondary interpretation. Ken Ham loves what he believes and says it without shame. I will not take that joy from him. I wish more people in public life had that spine, even when I think their timeline is wrong.

VII. JD VANCE, BUTLER COUNTY, AND WHY SCRIPTURE AT A RALLY IS NOT A GIMMICK

JD Vance is from my part of the world. Middletown. Butler County. Monroe just down the road. I know those hardy people. I know the flea markets—Traders World, Treasure Island—where folks come out of church on Sunday and walk the aisles looking at vendors, wall art, and the kind of homemade biblical kitsch that elites mock and ordinary people actually live with.[10]

Vance knows that country. His people are those people. When he talks about Scripture, it does not sound like a consultant discovered “faith outreach” on a whiteboard. It sounds like Butler County. That matters.

I have been glad to see President Trump and Vice President Vance put Scripture into the open at the Texas midterm moment and in surrounding speeches and interviews.[11] Vance has been unusually explicit that Christianity is not a private hobby you hide to keep a coalition calm. He has said Christianity is America’s creed—not that every citizen must be a Christian, but that the moral language that actually formed the country is Christian.[12] He has said Satan’s favorite trick is convincing Christians that faith and politics belong in separate rooms.[13] He has even been willing to talk about end times without collapsing into either panic or passivity: do the work in front of you; do not outsource your whole moral life to a countdown clock.[14]

I think that is smart. It will help the midterms. Not because Bible verses are magic turnout dust, but because a lot of serious churchgoing conservatives have concluded that politicians are blabbermouths who say one thing at the banquet and another in the agency. Those people will stay home if they think the language is rented. They will show up if they think the man actually fears God more than he fears the clip.

I am not naive. Quoting Scripture at a rally is easy. Governing in a way that honors the God of that Scripture is harder. The test is not whether a line lands in a speech. The test is whether the administration’s actions, over time, hate what God hates and love what God loves. A leader who merely drapes verses over policies that protect evil is a hypocrite. A leader who fears God will not be silent when innocent blood, confused children, and public lies are being baptized as kindness.

For midterms, for holding the House and the Senate, the Christian vote is not a sentiment. It is a body of people who still believe first allegiance is not to a party. If you want them off the couch, do not give them another focus-grouped paragraph about “values.” Give them the thing they already know is true and have been told to whisper.

VIII. THREE VERSES LEADERS SHOULD NOT BE AFRAID TO SAY OUT LOUD

If a leader wants language that encourages the faithful and warns the powerful at the same time, he does not need a speechwriter to invent it. It is already in the book.

First: “Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people.”[15]

That is Proverbs 14:34. It directly assaults the idea that a country becomes great by GDP, weapons, or branding. Moral order is not an accessory. If we keep normalizing what Scripture calls evil, we are not becoming sophisticated. We are becoming weak. Wealth will not save a people that has taught its children to despise the created order.

Second: “Woe to those who call evil good, and good evil; who put darkness for light, and light for darkness.”[16]

Isaiah 5:20 is the verse for this exact hour. It names the mechanism. The deception is not only that people do wrong. The deception is that they rename the wrong and then punish the person who remembers the old name. Redefine marriage, celebrate the confusion of sex, treat biblical speech as harm, and you have not expanded compassion. You have inverted the moral dictionary. A leader who will not say that sentence is not being pastoral. He is being careful about his future bookings.

Third: “Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord.”[17]

Psalm 33:12 is not a magic formula for a superpower. It is a reminder of allegiance. The Christian community’s ultimate loyalty is not to a party, a personality, or a news cycle. Blessing, in the biblical sense, attaches to a people that still knows who God is. That is hope, not nostalgia. It tells serious people why they should bother.

These three verses do what a good rally needs: moral clarity, a warning against deception, and a promise larger than the next quarter. They are short enough to remember. They are sharp enough to divide light from fog.

IX. DO NOT WAIT FOR THE RAPTURE WHILE EVIL DOES THE WORK

Here is the pastoral failure I have watched for decades.

Many people I know will say they are good Christians because they refuse to “engage.” They will hang the Ten Commandments on the wall, go to church on Sunday, and then treat public evil as a problem God will vacuum up at the end of the age. They do not want to confront anybody. They do not want to fight. They want the apocalypse to do the job they were too tired or too timid to do. They call that humility. I call it a religious mask on laziness.

The same Bible that promises the return of Christ also commands believers to resist the devil, hate what is evil, do justice, and love mercy.[18] God never called a people to nap while wickedness reorganizes the schools. Waiting for God to fix everything while we do nothing is not faith. It is presumption.

Moses did not treat Egypt as a spectator sport. Deborah did not. David did not. Nehemiah did not rebuild a wall by quoting a verse about patience and going home. The apostles did not treat the ruling authorities as an excuse to go mute. Romans 13 tells Christians to recognize governing authority. Acts 5:29 tells them that when those authorities command what God forbids, the first allegiance is to God.[19] Submission to God is not submission to evil—quite the opposite.

If a world leader will not bow to the authority of God, that does not mean the rest of us take a back seat and wait for the credits. It means discernment. It means we do not confuse a Bible on the podium with a conscience in the chest. It also means we do not treat politics as a substitute for conversion. A man can win a midterm and still lose his soul. Reformation that begins only in rallies and podcasts, and never in the soul’s submission to Christ, profits nothing.

However, the opposite error is just as real: using “God will handle it” as cover for refusing to handle the thing in front of you. Faith works in its own generation. It prays for the kingdom to come and then spends its breath on righteousness while it still has breath.

X. FLEA-MARKET CHRISTIANITY AND THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN DECORATION AND BACKBONE

I like Traders World. I like Treasure Island. Monroe, Ohio, is a strange and specific place, and I love it for what it is. Walk those markets, and you will see a lot of people who came straight from church. You will see biblical references on the walls. Treasure Island, in particular, draws a large Mexican immigrant population, and if you have spent time in Mexico, you already know how Catholic that visual world is. They love images of Jesus. They carried older indigenous forms into Catholic form and made something that is not a seminar paper. It is folk theology in color. I love Mexican religious art, including the Christianized approach to death that outsiders reduce to a cartoon of “the cult of the dead.” It is not voodoo. It is a people who still think the dead and the living are not sealed off from each other by a shopping mall.

I can love all of that and still say the hard thing: too many of those same households treat Scripture as interior decorating.

They will buy the plaque. They will love the verse. They will tell you they left it to Jesus. Then, when the school, the HR office, or the culture demands that they deny what the plaque says, they fold and call the fold piety. That is not devotion. That is decoration. Faith that only admires Scripture on a wall, and will not stand for the same commandments when the cost is a customer, a job, or a family argument, is not the faith that built anything worth keeping.

True Christianity has always required backbone. Nice religious imagery is easy. JD Vance coming out of that same region makes the stakes sharper. Those people need to see a leader who will fight for what the wall art claims to believe. If he only sounds like church on Sunday and then governs like every other manager of decline, the flea-market vote will stay home, and the professional class that rewrote childhood will not.

XI. CHRISTIANITY IS A WEAPON — BUT NOT THE WAY THE MOB MEANS WEAPON

People get nervous when you say Christianity is a weapon. They should get the meaning right.

Christianity is not a weapon in the way a riot is a weapon. It is not deceit. It is not a secret police of the pious. The word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword.[20] Truth is the blade. When a leader speaks Scripture with actual conviction, it cuts through slogans, exposes the rename-the-evil trick, and wakes a conscience that had gone to sleep under the word “kindness.”

That is how you fight evil in high places without becoming the thing you oppose.

Many of the policies I have been watching—the sexual ones, the speech ones, the childhood ones—were designed in the background to wear away a society that still had a Christian base. You do not have to invent a conspiracy chart to see the sequence. First, the language changes. Then the training changes. Then the child is caught in the middle, and the parent is the last to be informed. The answer is not to copy the enemy’s methods. The answer is to stop being ashamed of the only thing that can actually defeat the darkness: the gospel of Jesus Christ, spoken as if you mean it.

A leader should stand on Scripture not as a mascot but as a man who fears God more than he fears the mob. This generation is starving for that kind of boldness. Amen. Let it be said without the usual throat-clearing.

XII. ISLAM, SAUDI ARABIA, AND THE RIGHT TO DEFEND YOUR OWN HOUSE

A short word on a subject that makes consultants sweat.

Twenty-five years after 9/11, a lot of people are angry that American leadership will not spend every morning railing at Saudi Arabia and at radical Islam in the old post-2001 register. Radical Islam is not a hallucination. It is still at work. It is fair game. I also think you can put your hand on the Bible without turning every speech into a comparative-religion insult comic.

You do not have to be condescending toward every competing religion to defend Christianity. [21] A leader who fears God will not be silent when innocent blood is shed in the name of religion. He also needs wisdom. Sometimes the most effective stand is not the loudest anathema. It is the clear, consistent defense of truth and justice, and the refusal to treat Christianity as the one faith that must apologize for existing.

If Trump or Vance quote Scripture, the test is not the quote. The test is whether their actions line up with the book they opened. Religion used as a costume for power is an old trick. Religion used as the thing a man actually submits to is rarer, and it is the only version worth the airtime.

XIII. THE JONATHAN EDWARDS STUDY BIBLE AND A PRACTICAL NEXT STEP

If you want an entry point that is not a meme and not a campaign pamphlet, start with a book that expects you to stay.

The Jonathan Edwards Study Bible, published by Thomas Nelson in August 2026 and edited by Matthew Everhard, is built on the NKJV and Edwards’s own notes, resolutions, and theological instincts.[22] Edwards’s great theme was not American politics. It was joy in God. “The enjoyment of God is the only happiness with which our souls can be satisfied.” That is the sentence under the project. Study notes drawn from his work, essays on the Great Awakening, his Resolutions, and his miscellanies system are all there if you want to do more than highlight a rally verse.

I love a study Bible that treats Scripture as something you live inside, not something you mine for applause lines. I do not agree with every secondary system any commentator has ever hung on the text. I do not need to. The point is daily reading, public love, and an unashamed life. Treat yourself to something good. Read it. Let people know you love it. At this stage of the game, visible joy in the word is not a small witness. It is one of the last clean ones left.

XIV. WHAT I WANT FROM LEADERS — AND WHAT I WILL NOT PRETEND

I want leaders who will:

Protect children from medical and social experiments they cannot consent to in any meaningful sense.

Stop treating “compassion” as a synonym for affirmation.

Speak Scripture as if it were true, not as if it were a demographic.

Refuse the HR liturgy that recodes male and female as optional.

Understand that Christian voters are not a prop. They are people whose first loyalty is supposed to be higher than a ticket.

Fight in their own generation instead of waiting for the sky to split.

Keep their joy. An ashamed church is a disarmed church.

I will say this: goodness is not something you have to apologize for. Find it. Love it. Project it. Evil is not shy about encroaching. You are not obligated to meet that encroachment with a permanent second cheek and a taped mouth. The job, when you see the lie eating children and renaming itself kindness, is to conquer it with righteousness and to be bold about the source of that righteousness.

Do not be ashamed of the gospel.

Do not be ashamed of the book.

Do not be ashamed of liking what is good.

That is the politics of heaven in an age that keeps disclosing how much of our public life was built on a dare: that ordinary people would rather be polite than tell the truth about their own sons and daughters.

XV. A LAST WORD TO THE PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY LEAD

This was never written for the algorithm that wants a screaming thumbnail. It was written for the smaller room: the people who draft, who vote in caucuses, who manage institutions, who sit close enough to power to change a line in a bill or a tone in a speech.

It is safe to put your arm around Scripture.

It is not safe, in the only sense that matters, to keep pretending that the sexual revolution’s latest chapter is too delicate to name.

You are allowed to enjoy the Museum of the Bible, the Creation Museum, a Mexican retablo of Christ, a Jonathan Edwards page, a Butler County flea market, and a Vice President who will still say the name of Jesus without coughing. You are allowed to disagree about the age of the earth and still agree that a girl is not a boy because a school counselor said so.

The light does not need your permission to be light. It needs you to stop putting a basket over it.

Speak plainly. Protect the children. Love the good without apology. Leave the shame to the people who require it.

That is how you strengthen the faithful. That is how you expose the deception. That is how a nation finds out, in an age of disclosure, whether it still remembers the politics of heaven.

NOTES

[1] The phrase “politics of heaven” is used here in the older Christian sense: the public consequences of God’s reign and moral law, not a claim that any party is the kingdom of God. See Augustine, The City of God, esp. Books XIV–XIX, on the interweaving of the city of God and the city of man.

[2] Romans 1:16: “For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God to salvation for everyone who believes.”

[3] On the distinction between pastoral care for distressed youth and the affirmation-only medical pathway, see Hilary Cass, Independent Review of Gender Identity Services for Children and Young People: Final Report (NHS England, 2024); Abigail Shrier, Irreversible Damage (Regnery, 2020); Lisa Littman, “Parent reports of adolescents and young adults perceived to show signs of a rapid onset of gender dysphoria,” PLOS ONE 13, no. 8 (2018).

[4] Reporting and commentary on the clustering of transgender-identifying children in celebrity households include Rikki Schlott, “How social contagion created a generation of trans kids in Hollywood,” New York Post, June 4, 2026; “The rise of the celebrity trans kid,” The Spectator, April 10, 2024; and recurring profiles in mainstream entertainment coverage of specific families. Clustering is not the same as a complete census; it is a pattern that demands an explanation beyond “visibility.”

[5] Cass, Independent Review (2024). For the contrary claim that social contagion is unsupported, see Jack Turban et al., “Sex Assigned at Birth Ratio among Transgender and Gender Diverse Adolescents in the United States,” Pediatrics (2022). For more recent discussion of declining youth identification after the peak years, see analysis associated with Eric Kaufmann’s 2025 commentary on survey trends. The existence of a debate is the point: the science was never “settled” in the way school districts pretended.

[6] Genesis 1:27; Matthew 19:4; Mark 10:6.

[7] Museum of the Bible, 400 4th Street SW, Washington, D.C.; opened November 17, 2017; founded through the Green family / Museum of the Bible, Inc. See museumofthebible.org and the institution’s published FAQ on mission, square footage, and exhibit floors.

[8] Ken Ham, Answers in Genesis; Creation Museum, Petersburg, Kentucky (opened 2007); Ark Encounter, Williamstown, Kentucky (opened 2016). See answersingenesis.org.

[9] Jonathan Edwards, A Treatise Concerning Religious Affections (1746); The Life of David Brainerd; and the Resolutions. Edwards’s insistence that true religion engages the affections, not merely the mouth, is the through-line of the 2026 study Bible project cited below.

[10] Traders, World and Treasure Island are long-running flea-market / vendor sites serving the Monroe–Middletown corridor in Butler County, Ohio. JD Vance’s upbringing in Middletown and family ties in the county are documented in Hillbilly Elegy (Harper, 2016) and in subsequent local reporting.

[11] Coverage of Trump and Vance at the Republican midterm convention in Dallas, September 2026, includes contemporaneous reports from ABC and other national outlets. Vance’s broader 2025–2026 record of public Christian speech includes the Turning Point USA AmFest 2025 address and the May 2026 “Rededicate 250” remarks on the National Mall.

[12] JD Vance, AmFest / Turning Point USA remarks, December 2025: “Christianity is America’s creed,” with the explicit caveat that one need not be a Christian to be an American. See also Catholic News Agency, “Vice President JD Vance presents a Christian vision of politics,” December 2025.

[13] Ryan Foley, “JD Vance: Satan wants Christians to separate faith from politics,” The Christian Post, July 20, 2026, reporting on Vance’s conversation with Bishop Robert Barron.

[14] Maya Yang, “JD Vance says he is doing ‘God’s work – and if that leads to the end times, OK,’” The Guardian / syndicated, September 2, 2026, on the Bryce Crawford interview.

[15] Proverbs 14:34 (NKJV): “Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people.”

[16] Isaiah 5:20.

[17] Psalm 33:12: “Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people He has chosen as His own inheritance.”

[18] James 4:7; Romans 12:9; Micah 6:8; Psalm 97:10.

[19] Romans 13:1–7; Acts 5:29. The Deborah and David narratives are Judges 4–5 and 1 Samuel 16–31 / 2 Samuel.

[20] Hebrews 4:12; Ephesians 6:17.

[21] John 14:6; Acts 4:12.

[22] The Jonathan Edwards Study Bible: Experience Abiding Joy in Christ (NKJV), general editor Matthew Everhard (Thomas Nelson, August 18, 2026). Features include Edwards-derived study notes, doctrinal articles, essays on Edwards and the Great Awakening, the Resolutions, and an introduction to his miscellanies method.

BIBLIOGRAPHY AND FURTHER READING

Scripture and Classic Christian Sources

The Holy Bible, New King James Version. Augustine of Hippo. The City of God. Trans. Henry Bettenson. London: Penguin, 2003. Calvin, John. Institutes of the Christian Religion. Ed. John T. McNeill. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1960. Edwards, Jonathan. A Treatise Concerning Religious Affections. 1746. In The Works of Jonathan Edwards, Vol. 2. New Haven: Yale University Press. Edwards, Jonathan. “Resolutions.” In Letters and Personal Writings, Works of Jonathan Edwards, Vol. 16. New Haven: Yale University Press. Edwards, Jonathan. Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God. 1741. The Jonathan Edwards Study Bible: Experience Abiding Joy in Christ (NKJV). General editor Matthew Everhard. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2026. Packer, J. I. Knowing God. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1973. Lewis, C. S. The Abolition of Man. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1943. Lewis, C. S. Mere Christianity. London: Geoffrey Bles, 1952. Niebuhr, Reinhold. Moral Man and Immoral Society. New York: Scribner, 1932. Solzhenitsyn, Aleksandr. “Live Not by Lies.” 1974. Schaeffer, Francis A. How Should We Then Live? Old Tappan, NJ: Revell, 1976. Schaeffer, Francis A. A Christian Manifesto. Westchester, IL: Crossway, 1981.

Creation, Museums, and Public Christian Witness

Ham, Ken. The Lie: Evolution. Green Forest, AR: Master Books, 1987; rev. eds. thereafter. Ham, Ken. Gospel Reset. Green Forest, AR: Master Books, 2018. Answers in Genesis. Creation Museum and Ark Encounter visitor guides and position papers. https://answersingenesis.org Museum of the Bible. Institutional FAQs, exhibit guides, and annual materials. Washington, D.C. https://www.museumofthebible.org Wishard, Grant. “Love to Tell the Story.” Washington Examiner, November 17, 2017. Zauzmer Weil, Julie, and Sarah Pulliam Bailey. “The ark vs. the covenant: the dramatic contrast between the Creation Museum and the Museum of the Bible.” Washington Post, November 20, 2017.

Sex, Children, Medicine, and Social Contagion

Cass, Hilary. Independent Review of Gender Identity Services for Children and Young People: Final Report. NHS England, 2024. Shrier, Abigail. Irreversible Damage: The Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters. Washington, D.C.: Regnery, 2020. Shrier, Abigail. Bad Therapy: Why the Kids Are Not Growing Up. New York: Sentinel, 2024. Littman, Lisa. “Parent reports of adolescents and young adults perceived to show signs of a rapid onset of gender dysphoria.” PLOS ONE 13, no. 8 (2018). Bailey, J. Michael, and Ray Blanchard. Clinical and taxonomic papers on autogynephilia and rapid-onset presentations (various). Laidlaw, Michael, et al. Endocrine and pediatric critique literature on puberty blockade. SEGM (Society for Evidence-Based Gender Medicine). Collected reviews. Turban, Jack L., et al. “Sex Assigned at Birth Ratio among Transgender and Gender Diverse Adolescents in the United States.” Pediatrics (2022). [Contrary thesis; included so the reader can see both sides of the official argument.] Kaufmann, Eric. Commentary and data notes on declining youth LGBT / transgender identification after the early-2020s peak (2025). Schlott, Rikki. “How social contagion created a generation of trans kids in Hollywood.” New York Post, June 4, 2026. “The rise of the celebrity trans kid.” The Spectator, April 10, 2024. “Hollywood’s growing A-list of non-binary, transgender kids.” The Daily Telegraph, 2025. Hruz, Paul W., Lawrence S. Mayer, and Paul R. McHugh. “Growing Pains: Problems with Puberty Suppression in Treating Gender Dysphoria.” The New Atlantis, 2017. McHugh, Paul. “Transgender Surgery Is not the Solution.” Wall Street Journal, 2014, and related Johns Hopkins commentary. Soh, Debra. The End of Gender. New York: Threshold, 2020. Joyce, Helen. Trans: When Ideology Meets Reality. London: Oneworld, 2021. Hilton, Emma, and Colin Wright. Biological-sex primer essays in Reality’s Last Stand and related venues. Singal, Jesse. Long-form reporting on youth gender medicine, The Atlantic and later independent work.

Culture, Elite Capture, and Institutional Language

Murray, Douglas. The Madness of Crowds. London: Bloomsbury, 2019. Murray, Douglas. The War on the West. New York: Harper, 2022. Trueman, Carl R. The Rise and Triumph of the Modern Self. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2020. Trueman, Carl R. Strange New World. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2022. Hanby, Michael. Various essays on technology, liberalism, and the body, First Things. Lasch, Christopher. The Culture of Narcissism. New York: Norton, 1979. Rieff, Philip. The Triumph of the Therapeutic. New York: Harper & Row, 1966. MacIntyre, Alasdair. After Virtue. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1981. Sowell, Thomas. The Vision of the Anointed. New York: Basic Books, 1995. Sowell, Thomas. Intellectuals and Society. New York: Basic Books, 2009. Darel E. Paul. From Tolerance to Equality. Waco: Baylor University Press, 2018.

Vance, Ohio, and the Present Political-Religious Moment

Vance, J. D. Hillbilly Elegy. New York: Harper, 2016. Vance, J. D. Communion: Finding My Way Back to Faith. 2026. “Vice President JD Vance presents a Christian vision of politics.” Catholic News Agency, December 2025. “JD Vance: Satan wants Christians to separate faith from politics.” Christian Post, July 20, 2026. “Religious Vance seeks to avoid MAGA schism as he keeps the faith for 2028.” The Guardian / syndicated, September 13, 2026. Yang, Maya. “JD Vance says he is doing ‘God’s work – and if that leads to the end times, OK.’” September 2, 2026. Forbes Breaking News. “The Morality & Religion That Formed The American Consciousness Were Decidedly Christian.” National Mall remarks, May 2026. Local reporting on Middletown, the Cleveland-Cliffs mill, and Vance’s hometown visits: Cincinnati Enquirer, Journal-News, Fox News, 2023–2026. Dreher, Rod. Live Not by Lies. New York: Sentinel, 2020. Renn, Aaron M. Life in the Negative World. Washington, D.C.: Zondervan / related 2024 essays on post-Christian America.

Islam, Religious Liberty, and Public Courage

Ibn Warraq. Why I Am Not a Muslim. Amherst, NY: Prometheus, 1995. Spencer, Robert. The History of Jihad. New York: Bombardier, 2018. [Use critically; included because the public argument exists.] Griffith, Sidney H. The Church in the Shadow of the Mosque. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2008. Weigel, George. Faith, Reason, and the War against Jihadism. New York: Doubleday, 2007. First Amendment and religious-liberty case law: Employment Division v. Smith; Fulton v. City of Philadelphia; 303 Creative v. Elenis; related commentary in Harvard Journal of Law & Public Policy.

Ohio Color, Folk Religion, and Place

Hoffman, Rich. Prior columns and commentary at OvermanWarrior / related essays on Middletown, Monroe, and regional culture. Brandes, Stanley. Skulls to the Living, Bread to the Dead: The Day of the Dead in Mexico and Beyond. Oxford: Blackwell, 2006. Carmichael, Elizabeth, and Chloë Sayer. The Skeleton at the Feast: The Day of the Dead in Mexico. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1991. Nutini, Hugo G. Todos Santos en Rural Tlaxcala. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988. Local vendor culture around Traders World (Monroe, Ohio) and Treasure Island as primary, on-the-ground observation rather than academic monograph.

Journalism and Primary Documents Worth Keeping

Cass Review full report and supporting research annexes (NHS England). WPATH Files / leaked internal files and subsequent journalistic treatment (2024). SEGM, Genspect, and Society for Evidence-Based Gender Medicine bibliographies. Museum of the Bible press FAQs. Answers in Genesis statement of faith and museum interpretative materials. Thomas Nelson catalog entry and Everhard interviews on the Jonathan Edwards Study Bible (August 2026).

Objectivism and the American Experiment: Why Ayn Rand Still Matters in an Age of Collective Delusion, and Why Peter Thiel is a tremendous asset to any civlization

Ayn Rand remains one of the most polarizing figures in modern philosophy and literature for a reason, a very healthy reason. A refugee from the Soviet Union who watched her father’s business seized and her family’s life reduced to poverty under collectivist rule, she arrived in the United States in 1926 carrying a clear-eyed hatred of any system that subordinates the individual mind to the group. She built an entire philosophical system—Objectivism—around the primacy of objective reality, the sovereignty of reason, and the moral right of the individual to live for his own sake. In an era when official culture insists that feelings can rewrite biology, that the state may confiscate the product of one person’s effort for another’s benefit, and that the individual is merely a unit in larger identity categories, her work is no longer a historical curiosity. It is a live confrontation with the day’s dominant premises.

Her novels and nonfiction supply an on-ramp that mainstream institutions will not provide. Anthem stands as one of the cleanest anti-communist fables ever written—a short, devastating portrait of a society that has erased the word “I.” The Fountainhead dramatizes the creator who refuses to subordinate his vision to the demands of the collective. Atlas Shrugged takes the logic further: the men of the mind withdraw, and the parasites who lived off their productivity discover they cannot run the world without them. These books still circulate because they name a conflict that never went away—the individual versus the collective—and because the collectivist side is once again confident enough to drop the mask. For those wanting to understand the news cycles of our day, the work of Ayn Rand will help you get your mind around it.

Metaphysics: Reality Is Not Optional

Objectivism begins with a blunt metaphysical claim: existence exists. The universe is what it is independent of anyone’s wishes, prayers, social consensus, or emotional needs. Rand called this the primacy of existence. A rock is a rock whether or not someone finds the fact inconvenient. Facts are not created by consciousness; consciousness is the faculty that perceives them.

This sounds like common sense until one watches contemporary culture try to legislate it out of existence. A man cannot become a woman by declaration. A biological male does not acquire the capacity to menstruate or gestate simply because he “identifies” as female. The insistence that subjective feeling overrides observable reality is precisely the mentality Rand spent decades attacking. She was not writing about the more exotic claims of quantum measurement or observer effects in controlled laboratory settings; she was defending the four-dimensional world human beings actually inhabit and must act within. When that world is treated as infinitely malleable by will or decree, the result is not liberation. It is catastrophe dressed up as compassion.

Epistemology: Reason as Absolute

If reality is objective, then knowledge of it must be acquired by specific means. Rand held that the senses are the only source of information about the world and that reason is the faculty that identifies and integrates that material. There is no separate channel of “intuition,” mystical insight, or divine revelation that can override sensory evidence and logical processing. A concept that cannot be traced back to the evidence of the senses and the operation of logic is not merely mistaken; it is cognitively empty.

This is why she was merciless toward modern philosophy’s retreat from the world, particularly the influence of Immanuel Kant. If reason is limited or if “things-in-themselves” are forever inaccessible, then the door opens to every form of subjectivism and collectivist claim. Rand’s position is severe, and it leaves little room for the non-rational. One can grant that human sensory equipment is limited and that deeper layers of physical reality may require instruments and theories beyond the five senses; that does not license treating feelings or group consensus as substitutes for evidence. In the domain of ordinary human action—law, economics, medicine, education—her insistence on reason remains the only reliable check against those who would rewrite reality by force of declaration.

Ethics: The Virtue of Selfishness

The transition from facts to values is the most contentious part of her system. David Hume’s old problem—how one derives an “ought” from an “is”—is met head-on. Rand argued that the concept of value only arises for living organisms. A rock has no values because nothing can benefit or harm it as a rock. A living entity must act to maintain its life. For a human being, whose mode of survival is conceptual and productive rather than instinctual, the good is that which sustains and advances life according to the requirements of a rational being. The evil is that which destroys it.

From this, she derived rational egoism: one’s own life is the proper standard of value, and the moral purpose of each individual is to achieve their own happiness through productive work and voluntary trade. This is not a license for whim, predation, or short-term gratification. The man who drinks himself to death is not selfish; he is destroying the only value he possesses. Rational self-interest requires long-range thinking, integrity, and the refusal to live as a parasite or to treat others as sacrificial animals.

Altruism, in her usage, is not simple kindness or voluntary charity. It is the moral doctrine that the individual has a duty to sacrifice himself to others and that the needs of the collective create a claim on the productive. She rejected that doctrine root and branch. Charity is permissible and often admirable when it is voluntary and does not rest on the premise that the recipient has a moral mortgage on the giver. The moment it becomes a duty enforced by the state or by social pressure, it ceases to be benevolence and becomes predation with a halo.

Politics: Capitalism as the Only Moral System

If individuals have the right to their own lives and the products of their efforts, then the only political system consistent with that right bans the initiation of physical force. Government’s legitimate functions shrink to the police (to protect against domestic force), the military (to protect against foreign force), and the courts (to adjudicate disputes under objective law). Everything else—roads, schools, welfare, industrial policy—belongs in the realm of private voluntary action.

Capitalism, in this view, is not merely the most efficient system; it is the only moral one, because it is the only system that treats individuals as ends in themselves and organizes society based on trade rather than sacrifice. Any government seizure of wealth for redistribution is a violation of the producer’s right to the product of his mind. Rand did not arrive at this conclusion in a vacuum. She had watched the Bolsheviks liquidate private property and reduce her family to near-starvation. When she looked at the New Deal and the expanding administrative state in her adopted country, she saw a slower, softer version of the same principle: the subordination of the individual to the collective will.

The Novels as Philosophical Weapons

The Fountainhead gave the world Howard Roark, the architect who would rather see his building destroyed than allow it to be compromised by second-handers and taste-makers. He is the archetype of the man who lives by his own judgment. Atlas Shrugged escalated the drama: the inventors, industrialists, and thinkers who carry the world on their shoulders stop. The result is not utopia for the remaining population; it is collapse. The book’s influence on entrepreneurs, Silicon Valley founders, and a certain strain of American political thought is well documented. Peter Thiel has been open about its impact. Figures in the current administration’s orbit have circulated it for years. In Ohio, legislators have been known to hand out copies as a quiet statement of first principles. My good friend Senator George Lang is one of them. And the hatred of Peter Thiel largely, and specifically, comes from his support of Ayn Rand’s philosophy of Objectivism, which the political left despises.

Critics have always been harsh. Whittaker Chambers’s famous National Review attack treated Atlas Shrugged as if it issued from a totalitarian loudspeaker—an irony given Rand’s lifelong hatred of totalitarianism. Academic philosophers such as Robert Nozick argued that even if one accepts life as the standard of value, the leap to absolute property rights and the rejection of any enforceable duty of aid is not logically compelled. The Objectivist movement itself developed a reputation for rigidity and a personality cult, culminating in the public break with Nathaniel Branden. These criticisms are not trivial. A philosophy that demands near-perfect consistency will always struggle with the messy, interdependent realities of actual human lives, including disability, bad luck, and the genuine goods that arise from voluntary community.

Yet the core insight survives the objections. The productive genius of a relative handful of individuals—Edison, the Wrights, the modern equivalents like Elon Musk building reusable rockets and energy systems—creates the surplus that lifts entire societies. When those individuals are treated as cash cows for the collective or as moral suspects simply because they succeed, the long-term result is not justice. It is stagnation. The question is not whether Elon Musk or any particular innovator is personally likable. The question is whether a society that systematically handicaps its highest producers in the name of equity ends up better or worse for the average person. The historical record of systems that tried the latter experiment is not ambiguous.

America at the Crossroads of Two Traditions

Walk out of certain offices in the Ohio Statehouse and the architecture itself poses the question. Greek columns, vaulted ceilings, classical proportions—the visual language of a republican experiment that began on the other side of the Mediterranean. At the same time, the conversations that spontaneously arise among the people who work there often turn to Scripture, to the Book of Judges, to the warning that a people who demand a king “like all the nations” will discover what concentrated power does to both ruler and ruled. The American founding drew from both streams: classical political forms and a biblical anthropology that understood the corruption of the human heart and the danger of centralized authority.

Rand, an atheist, had little patience for the religious side of that inheritance. Yet her central political claim—that the smallest minority is the individual, and that any ideology which subordinates the individual to the group is already on the road to tyranny—converges with the older biblical suspicion of collective power. The scapegoat mechanism, the demand that someone be sacrificed for the sins or the needs of the many, is ancient. Objectivism names it without theological language and refuses to grant it moral legitimacy.

The same refusal applies to the newer forms of collectivism on offer: the racial and sexual identity politics that treat individuals as avatars of groups, the economic redistribution that treats productive achievement as a social resource to be reallocated, and the cultural insistence that biological reality itself is a social construct. These are not progressive refinements. They are regressions to the oldest political temptation—the belief that the group can rewrite the terms of its members’ existence.

The Continuing Argument

Objectivism is not the last word in philosophy. No system is. Human thought did not end with Aristotle, or with Rand, or with any other figure. Quantum theory, the limits of sensory apparatus, and the persistent human hunger for meaning beyond the strictly material remain open questions. One can accept the primacy of existence and the necessity of reason for navigating the world of action, while still acknowledging that the full picture of reality may lie beyond the current toolkit. The political core, however, does not require omniscience. It requires only the recognition that individuals are not raw material for someone else’s vision of the good, and that a society which protects the right of the mind to function is the only kind that has ever generated sustained prosperity and personal freedom.

That is why the books keep circulating and why the arguments keep returning. In a moment when collectivist premises dominate major institutions and when the productive minority is once again treated as a problem to be managed, Rand’s insistence on the individual as the irreducible unit of moral and political life is not nostalgia. It is a necessary corrective. The American experiment has always been an argument about how much room to give the person who refuses to live as a cog. Objectivism is one of the clearest modern statements of the side that says the person comes first. The debate is not academic. It is the daily substance of politics, culture, and the question of what kind of country this remains.

Further reading is straightforward. Start with the novels for the emotional and dramatic force, then move to the nonfiction for the systematic case. The rest is the ongoing work of testing those ideas against the evidence of history and the requirements of a free society.

Footnotes

1. For biographical context and the formative impact of the Bolshevik Revolution on Rand’s thought, see her own accounts in We the Living (semi-autobiographical) and the biographical material in Letters of Ayn Rand, ed. Michael S. Berliner (New York: Dutton, 1995).

2. Ayn Rand, “The Metaphysical Versus the Man-Made,” in Philosophy: Who Needs It (New York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1982); also “The Objectivist Ethics” in The Virtue of Selfishness (New York: New American Library, 1964).

3. Ayn Rand, Introduction to Objectivist Epistemology, expanded 2nd ed., ed. Harry Binswanger and Leonard Peikoff (New York: NAL Books, 1990).

4. Ayn Rand, “The Objectivist Ethics,” in The Virtue of Selfishness; the 1961 University of Wisconsin lecture is referenced in secondary literature and in Peikoff’s Objectivism: The Philosophy of Ayn Rand (New York: Dutton, 1991).

5. Ayn Rand, “What Is Capitalism?” and related essays in Capitalism: The Unknown Ideal (New York: New American Library, 1966).

6. On the novel’s reception and influence, see Jennifer Burns, Goddess of the Market: Ayn Rand and the American Right (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009); Whittaker Chambers’s review appeared in National Review, December 28, 1957. Robert Nozick’s critique is “On the Randian Argument,” The Personalist 52 (1971).

Bibliography

Burns, Jennifer. Goddess of the Market: Ayn Rand and the American Right. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009.

Chambers, Whittaker. “Big Sister Is Watching You.” National Review, December 28, 1957.

Nozick, Robert. “On the Randian Argument.” The Personalist 52 (1971): 282–304.

Peikoff, Leonard. Objectivism: The Philosophy of Ayn Rand. New York: Dutton, 1991.

Rand, Ayn. Anthem. Caldwell, ID: Caxton Printers, 1953 (orig. 1938).

———. Atlas Shrugged. New York: Random House, 1957.

———. Capitalism: The Unknown Ideal. New York: New American Library, 1966.

———. The Fountainhead. New York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1943.

———. Introduction to Objectivist Epistemology. Expanded 2nd ed. Edited by Harry Binswanger and Leonard Peikoff. New York: NAL Books, 1990.

———. Philosophy: Who Needs It. New York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1982.

———. The Virtue of Selfishness. New York: New American Library, 1964.

———. We the Living. New York: Macmillan, 1936.

Rich Hoffman

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The Making of George Washington: Lessons from Youth and Adversity in Young Washington

George Washington occupies a unique place in the American imagination. His face appears on currency, his name rests upon the nation’s capital, and his reputation has become so intertwined with the founding of the United States that many people think of him only as the victorious commander of the Revolutionary War or the first President. Yet the making of George Washington occurred long before Yorktown, before the Constitutional Convention, and before the presidency itself. The true story of Washington is the story of formation through adversity, failure, hardship, and character. That is why a film centered upon his youth is so important. A society that wishes to understand greatness must study not only triumphs but also the difficult roads that produced them.

The importance of Young Washington lies precisely in its willingness to explore that earlier chapter. Rather than beginning with a celebrated general crossing the Delaware River or presiding over a new republic, the story examines the young man who had not yet become the legend. It reveals Washington during the years when mistakes carried consequences, when ambition collided with reality, and when the wilderness of North America tested the limits of endurance and leadership. Those experiences were not side notes to history. They were the furnace in which the future Father of His Country was forged.

Modern audiences often forget how dangerous eighteenth-century America actually was. The colonies were not peaceful settlements waiting patiently for independence. The frontier remained a contested world of forests, mountains, rivers, Native American nations, French military forces, British colonial ambitions, and competing claims to vast territories stretching westward beyond the Appalachians.[1] Young Washington entered this world as a surveyor and officer, navigating landscapes that were physically unforgiving and politically explosive.

The French and Indian War shaped the future of North America long before the American Revolution. Many historians describe it as the first global war because fighting extended beyond the American colonies into Europe, the Caribbean, India, and the Atlantic world.[2] The outcome would determine which empire dominated much of the continent—into this conflict stepped a young Virginian with little combat experience and enormous expectations resting upon his shoulders.

One of the most fascinating aspects of Washington’s early life was the extraordinary responsibility placed upon him at a remarkably young age. While many modern young adults are encouraged to avoid risk and postpone responsibility, eighteenth-century society frequently demanded the opposite. Washington found himself carrying diplomatic messages through wilderness territories, negotiating with Native American leaders, evaluating military threats, and commanding troops in situations that would challenge experienced officers.[3] Such responsibilities matured him quickly. The lessons learned in forests and mountains would prove no less valuable than those later learned on battlefields or in government chambers.

The story surrounding Fort Necessity remains one of the most important episodes of Washington’s development. It was not his greatest victory. In many respects, it represented a significant defeat. Yet history repeatedly shows that failures often teach more than successes. Built in a vulnerable meadow, the fort placed British colonial forces in a precarious position. French troops and their allies occupied superior terrain within the surrounding wooded areas. Rain transformed the battlefield into a muddy disaster. Washington ultimately surrendered under difficult circumstances in July 1754.[4]

Many historical figures spend their careers attempting to hide their failures. Washington did something different. He learned from them. The humiliation at Fort Necessity did not destroy his reputation; rather, it became one of the experiences that taught caution, patience, logistics, and strategic judgment. Years later, during the Revolutionary War, Washington would demonstrate restraint and discipline that distinguished him from many contemporaries. Those qualities did not emerge from nowhere. They emerged from earlier encounters with defeat and disappointment.

There is also something powerful about physically visiting places connected to history. Reading books provides knowledge, but standing where events occurred provides perspective. The mountains of western Maryland and Pennsylvania remain striking reminders of the challenges faced by colonial soldiers. The terrain itself explains much of the story. Steep ridges, dense forests, winding roads, and isolated valleys reveal why campaigns in that region were so difficult. Geography often becomes an invisible character in historical narratives, and nowhere is that more evident than in Washington’s frontier experience.

The routes that would later become the National Road carry tremendous historical significance as well. Connecting eastern population centers with western territories, they became some of the most important transportation projects in early American history.[5] Yet before roads and highways transformed the region, movement through those mountains demanded determination, courage, and endurance. Washington’s experiences along those routes exposed him to the realities of frontier America and deepened his understanding of the continent he would later help unite.

A film exploring these events succeeds when it respects the material. Historical drama does not require perfect documentation of every detail, but it must convey the spirit, character, and significance of the people involved. According to many viewers familiar with Washington’s biography, Young Washington captures that spirit effectively. The portrayal of Washington as noble without being perfect allows audiences to encounter him as a human being rather than an untouchable monument.

That distinction matters because modern culture frequently swings between extremes. Historical figures are either idealized beyond recognition or condemned without context. Washington deserves neither treatment. He was a man with strengths and flaws, successes and failures, extraordinary abilities and ordinary limitations. What separates him from countless others is not perfection but character. Throughout crises, disappointments, and temptations, he consistently sought duty above personal comfort.[6]

This emphasis upon character may explain why the film resonates so strongly with audiences. Many forms of contemporary entertainment focus upon antiheroes, cynicism, moral ambiguity, or spectacle. Such approaches can produce compelling stories, but they often leave audiences hungry for something different. There remains a deep desire to witness individuals striving toward virtue, honor, courage, and responsibility. Human beings naturally admire excellence. They seek examples of people attempting to become better versions of themselves.

This is one reason George Washington continues to command respect centuries after his death. His achievements cannot be separated from his moral aspirations. He believed leadership required self-control. He believed reputation mattered. He believed public service demanded sacrifice. He understood that power, if not restrained by character, could destroy both leaders and nations.[7]

Few decisions illustrate this more clearly than his resignation of military authority after the American Revolution. History contains countless examples of victorious generals who transformed military success into political dictatorship. Washington chose another path. After securing independence, he surrendered power and returned home. King George III reportedly remarked that such an action would make Washington “the greatest man in the world.”[8] The roots of that decision can be traced back to earlier lessons learned during his youth. The young officer who experienced failure at Fort Necessity eventually became the mature statesman willing to relinquish power.

The success of films like Young Washington also reflects a broader cultural shift. Many audiences increasingly search for stories that celebrate rather than deconstruct. Entertainment once produced numerous historical adventures focused upon courage, exploration, leadership, and national heritage. Classic productions such as Davy Crockett and Zorro attracted viewers not because their heroes were flawless, but because they represented ideals worth pursuing. Such stories reminded audiences that civilization depends upon honorable conduct.

Angel Studios appears to recognize this hunger. The company has developed a reputation for producing projects that emphasize family-friendly storytelling, historical subjects, faith, perseverance, and moral clarity. Whether individual viewers agree with every creative choice is ultimately secondary. The greater significance lies in the fact that audiences continue to support films that treat virtue seriously rather than sarcastically.

The enthusiastic audience response described by many theatergoers reinforces this point. Packed theaters, applause during credits, and viewers remaining in their seats after the film concludes suggest more than mere entertainment value. They suggest emotional investment. People stay because they do not want the experience to end. They remain because something meaningful has occurred. The story has connected them not merely with a plot but with values, memories, and aspirations.

History possesses a unique ability to create that connection. Contemporary debates often divide people, but historical narratives sometimes unite them around shared admiration for courage and perseverance. George Washington serves as one of those rare figures capable of reaching across ideological boundaries. Americans may disagree about countless issues, yet many still recognize the importance of the leadership that guided the nation through its earliest and most fragile years.[9]

Perhaps the most striking aspect of Washington’s story is the consistency between his public life and his private aspirations. The pursuit of self-improvement remained a recurring theme throughout his life. As a young man, he studied, observed, listened, and learned from mistakes. As a military leader, he refined discipline and judgment. As president, he attempted to place national interests above factional interests. Growth never stopped.

That emphasis upon striving rather than perfection carries enduring relevance. Every generation faces moments of disappointment, conflict, and uncertainty. Every individual encounters failures that seem overwhelming in the moment. Washington’s example demonstrates that setbacks need not define a life. Defeat at Fort Necessity did not prevent future greatness. Criticism did not prevent achievement. Hardship did not destroy resolve. Instead, adversity became preparation.

The frontier itself symbolized this process. The forests beyond colonial settlements represented danger, uncertainty, and opportunity. They tested physical endurance while revealing inner character. Washington’s journeys across that landscape helped develop qualities that later proved indispensable. Resourcefulness, patience, courage, adaptability, and resilience emerged not in comfort but in challenge.

A compelling historical film, therefore, accomplishes more than simple education. It invites audiences to reconsider what greatness actually means. Greatness is not merely holding office, winning battles, or receiving recognition. Greatness begins in the difficult choices made before anyone is watching. It begins with responsibility embraced rather than avoided. It begins with the willingness to learn from mistakes rather than deny them.

For that reason, Young Washington offers a valuable contribution to American historical storytelling. It introduces viewers to formative experiences that are often overshadowed by later accomplishments. It encourages appreciation for the long process through which character develops. Most importantly, it reminds audiences that the foundations of leadership are laid long before leadership is publicly recognized.

There is also something refreshing about spending time in the company of admirable characters. Modern culture often celebrates transgression while dismissing virtue as naïve. Yet viewers continue responding positively to stories featuring courage, integrity, loyalty, and self-sacrifice. The reason is simple. Human beings instinctively recognize these traits as desirable. They recognize them as qualities capable of elevating communities, institutions, and nations.

Washington’s story continues to endure because it illustrates that elevation. A young surveyor became a frontier officer. A frontier officer became a military commander. A military commander became the leader of a revolution. A revolutionary leader became the first president. Yet beneath each transformation remained the same aspiration toward honor and duty. The titles changed. The character remained.

Films capable of conveying that truth perform an important cultural service. They preserve memory. They encourage reflection. They connect present generations with the experiences that shaped earlier ones. They provide reminders that history is not simply a collection of dates and events but a record of human choices.

Ultimately, the enduring appeal of George Washington rests upon more than military accomplishments or political achievements. It rests upon the example of a man who repeatedly sought the higher path when easier alternatives existed. The youth who faced defeat in the mountains became the leader who guided a fragile republic. The officer who learned difficult lessons on the frontier became the statesman willing to place principle above personal ambition. The story remains powerful because it speaks to universal themes of growth, responsibility, perseverance, and character.

That is why Young Washington deserves attention. It tells a chapter of history too often ignored. It introduces audiences to the experiences that forged one of the most important figures in American history. It presents nobility without arrogance, courage without recklessness, and patriotism without cynicism. In an era frequently dominated by stories celebrating the worst of human behavior, there is something profoundly valuable about a story centered upon the possibility of becoming better. George Washington’s journey reminds audiences that greatness is not inherited, accidental, or effortless. It is earned through struggle, formed through adversity, and sustained through character. More than two centuries after his death, that lesson remains as relevant as ever.

Footnotes

[1] Fred Anderson, Crucible of War: The Seven Years’ War and the Fate of Empire in British North America, 1754–1766 (New York: Knopf, 2000).

[2] Daniel Baugh, The Global Seven Years’ War 1754–1763 (London: Routledge, 2011).

[3] George Washington, The Journal of Major George Washington (1754).

[4] David Preston, Braddock’s Defeat: The Battle of the Monongahela and the Road to Revolution (Oxford University Press, 2015).

[5] Karl Raitz, The National Road (Johns Hopkins University Press, 1996).

[6] Ron Chernow, Washington: A Life (New York: Penguin Press, 2010).

[7] James Thomas Flexner, George Washington in the American Revolution (Little, Brown and Company, 1968).

[8] Joseph J. Ellis, His Excellency: George Washington (New York: Knopf, 2004).

[9] Gordon S. Wood, The Radicalism of the American Revolution (Vintage Books, 1993).

Bibliography

Anderson, Fred. Crucible of War: The Seven Years’ War and the Fate of Empire in British North America, 1754–1766. New York: Knopf, 2000.

Baugh, Daniel. The Global Seven Years’ War 1754–1763. London: Routledge, 2011.

Chernow, Ron. Washington: A Life. New York: Penguin Press, 2010.

Ellis, Joseph J. His Excellency: George Washington. New York: Knopf, 2004.

Flexner, James Thomas. George Washington in the American Revolution. Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1968.

Preston, David. Braddock’s Defeat: The Battle of the Monongahela and the Road to Revolution. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015.

Raitz, Karl. The National Road. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1996.

Washington, George. The Journal of Major George Washington. Williamsburg, 1754.

Wood, Gordon S. The Radicalism of the American Revolution. New York: Vintage Books, 1993.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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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

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About the Author: Rich Hoffman

I Told You So: Yes, suddenly there are Marxists and outright communists everywhere–what did you think was going to happen?

I told you so. That phrase has been rolling around in my mind a lot lately, especially as I watch the country grapple with forces that were plain as day more than a decade ago if you bothered to look. I’ve spent a lifetime studying human nature, history, and the patterns that repeat across civilizations, and one thing I’ve learned is that people rarely listen when the warnings don’t fit the comfortable narrative of the moment. They prefer the glossy corporate packaging, the safe conventional wisdom, the voices that promise everything can go back in the bottle, and we can return to the George W. Bush days of polite Republicanism. I saw it clearly back in 2012, and I’ve been proven right in ways that still make me shake my head and chuckle, even as the consequences play out in Ohio and across the nation.

I remember those days on Clear Channel radio vividly. I was a frequent guest, then hosting segments on weekday and weekend shows, reaching millions. The topics were hot: the cost of labor in public schools, the socialist bent of public-sector unions, and how collective bargaining funded with taxpayer money created an unsustainable beast. I laid it out plainly—labor unions in America, particularly public ones, carried the DNA of communist organizing imported from Europe. They weren’t just about fair wages; they were about wielding power over government, education, and culture, funded by confiscated property taxes. The pushback was immediate. Executives pulled me aside. Corporate types whispered that communism was a bad word, that I was going too far, that I was alienating the audience. They wanted sports talk, grilling tips, lighter fare. The orthodoxy believed the Tea Party energy could be bottled up and the old establishment restored. I warned them it wouldn’t work. Human nature doesn’t let genies stay bottled once the cork is out.

Around that time, John Kasich pushed Senate Bill 5 in Ohio, a serious attempt to curb public employee collective bargaining. It passed, but the unions mobilized, and it was repealed by referendum. I had been vocal in support of reforms, and when it blew up, the knives came out. People who had listened to me suddenly distanced themselves. I was labeled extreme. Invitations dried up. Some higher-ups at Clear Channel and in political circles thought the radical voices like mine needed sidelining so the respectable Republicans could take back control. Fast forward, and Kasich himself has shown more progressive stripes over time. Mike DeWine, another Republican governor, appointed Amy Acton as Health Director despite her abortion advocacy and later watched her become the lockdown queen during COVID. The pattern repeats: reach across the aisle, accommodate the left, and wonder why the ground keeps shifting. I’ve been saying for years that many of these figures are Democrats in Republican clothing, and the internals bear it out.

When Trump rose, the corporate conservative media—Fox News chief among them—had a similar moment. They treated him like an interloper, elevated more conventional types like Ron DeSantis, and seemed ready to exile the populist wave. I watched it with the same sense of déjà vu I felt in 2012. The proper conservative establishment wanted the genie back in the bottle. They couldn’t stomach the raw challenge to the system. On the left, Bernie Sanders represented a parallel populist surge, but it got channeled into radical socialist figures like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. The media tried to polish it up, but the undercurrents were Marxist through and through. I said then that MAGA was the natural evolution of questioning the rot, and ignoring or silencing voices like mine wouldn’t make the questions go away. Here we are in 2026, and the same dynamics play out in Ohio with Amy Acton running as a Democrat, backed by the usual progressive machinery, while Vivek Ramaswamy draws fire precisely because he represents successful capitalism. The anti-rich mantra is straight out of the communist playbook.

I’ve never been one to chase popularity. I study the totality of human endeavor—ancient history, biblical patterns, philosophy, the way power really operates behind the scenes. That’s why I could see where public sector unions were heading. They were created out of movements with communist roots, designed to infiltrate and control. Taxpayer-funded bargaining gives them leverage over policy, especially in education. Property taxes confiscate wealth from owners to fund what amounts to Marxist indoctrination in many classrooms. The Department of Education, created in the late 1970s, accelerated it. Kids dropped off for what amounts to free babysitting come home with attitudes shaped by collective bargaining agreements that prioritize ideology over basics. I warned about this on air relentlessly. The response? “You can’t talk like that on corporate radio. We’re here to entertain and sell ads, not tell uncomfortable truths.” So I stepped away from a lot of it, preferring independence. I turned down opportunities that would have chained me to the corporate structure because I value longevity and truth over short-term access.

One broadcast that sticks with me came around 2013-2014. I was on with Matt Clark from Ann Arbor, Michigan and others, and we read the planks from The Naked Communist by W. Cleon Skousen right on the air. That 1958 book, expanded with 45 goals in later editions, lays out the strategy: infiltrate schools, unions, media, churches; soften curricula; promote pornography and moral breakdown; discredit the Constitution and Founding Fathers; capture one or both political parties. It was all there, drawn from congressional records and deep research into Marxist tactics. The alignment with what I was seeing was uncanny. Communists don’t need to win elections outright when they can reshape the culture that produces the voters. Get control of the schools, use them as transmission belts for socialism. Infiltrate the press. Break down the family. It’s all documented, and we’re living through the harvest.

People laughed or got uncomfortable. “You’re making enemies,” they said. “You’re upsetting the donors.” But I’ve always played the long game. I don’t let consensus or teamwork dictate my path because those are often vehicles for diluted truth. I’ve been pushed aside more than once—business, politics, media—but I don’t hand over power by needing their approval. That independence lets me look back and say, without bitterness but with a certain satisfaction, “I told you so.” When lives or societies run into the wall, I don’t jump off a bridge with them. I giggle a bit because the warnings were sincere, offered freely from years of study, meant to help. Most don’t want help; they want scapegoats and comfortable narratives. They fly the flag on the Fourth of July, cheer the Bengals, call themselves patriots, but won’t confront the cultural Marxism embedded in daily life. Soccer, for instance—I’ve called it a socialist game. Penalizing forwards for being offside, low scores, and an emphasis on the collective over individual brilliance. Contrast that with American football: strategic, explosive, rewarding excellence and preparation. Little cultural markers reveal bigger philosophies.

Now, as we celebrate another Independence Day, the ironies pile up. Fireworks light the sky while radicalized generations, trained in public schools funded by the very property taxes I warned about, push policies that erode the foundations of that freedom. Amy Acton embodies it in Ohio: lockdown authoritarian during COVID, abortion advocate before and after, now running with backing from figures like David Pepper and the election mechanics crowd. Vivek draws hate because he’s rich and successful—classic proletariat resentment dressed as justice. The naked communist strategy didn’t stay on paper; it marched through institutions while polite conservatives tried to accommodate or ignore it. Fox News personalities like Jesse Watters, Laura Ingraham, and Greg Gutfeld on The Five express bewilderment at the cultural shifts, but many of those shifts were telegraphed years ago. Normies are starting to feel it in their corporate jobs, their kids’ schools, their daily lives. The awakening is late, but real.

My own journey informs all this. From manual labor as a kid to aerospace executive, through local politics in Butler County, grand jury service, and years of activism against tax increases, I’ve seen how power operates. I’ve watched media and music degrade from family-oriented themes in the ’70s and ’80s to hedonism and occult influences. It’s spiritual warfare as much as political. That’s why my work on The Politics of Heaven digs into biblical conspiracies, giants, demons, and the deeper rebellion. Twenty years from now, when more on ancient interactions, UFOs, and non-human intelligences comes to light, the same people who dismissed warnings about communism will be asking how I saw it coming. The answer is simple: I study the totality. I don’t outsource my thinking to corporate gatekeepers or consensus. I connect the dots across time—from Hopewell shamans with copper ear spools from Lake Superior, traded hundreds of miles, showing sophisticated networks, to modern trade in ideas that undermine sovereignty.

I don’t chase people down begging them to listen. I explain once, from the heart, because I want to help families, communities, and the republic. If they run headlong into the consequences anyway, that’s on them. I reserve the right to withdraw and keep building independently. The “I told you so” isn’t gloating for its own sake; it’s the natural outcome of pattern recognition meeting denial.

Looking at the current Ohio governor’s race and national trends, the communist infusion—whether labeled progressive, socialist, or woke—isn’t hidden anymore. Mark Elias lawfare, property tax-funded indoctrination, unions as political machines, media as propagandists—it’s all converging. Trump’s two terms disrupted it, but the underlying rot from decades of infiltration remains. Voters face a choice: continue the path of confiscation and control, or reclaim the individual responsibility and biblical orientation that built the West. I’ve always advocated the latter: strong families, personal discipline (that whip symbol of mine represents precision and self-mastery), limited government, and cultural pushback. Reckless sex leading to abortion, moral breakdown, fatherless homes—these aren’t unrelated to the economic and political failures. They’re symptoms of the same rebellion.

As this Fourth of July fades and we head into the election cycle, I find myself reflecting on how many times it has recurred. People think the world is falling apart around the truth-teller, but reality has a way of catching up. I warned about public unions, school indoctrination, media capture, and the Marxist undercurrents in 2012. I read the planks on air. I stepped away from corporate constraints to speak freely. Now the bill comes due, and the same voices that sidelined the warnings express shock. To them I say, without malice but with the clarity of long observation: I told you so. Listen next time, or don’t. The consequences will be the same, but at least some of us saw it coming and prepared accordingly. The fight for the republic continues, rooted in understanding the full sweep of human history, from ancient earthworks to modern ballots. That’s where real hope lies—not in putting genies back in bottles, but in confronting the totality head-on.

Footnotes

1. Observations on Clear Channel radio appearances and 2012 Ohio politics drawn from personal experience during the SB5 debate and repeal.

2. Senate Bill 5, signed by Gov. John Kasich in 2011, sought to limit public employee collective bargaining rights and was repealed via referendum.

3. W. Cleon Skousen, The Naked Communist (1958, with 45 goals added in 1961 editions), details strategies for cultural and institutional infiltration. Many goals align with observed shifts in education, media, and unions.

4. Amy Acton’s role as Ohio Health Director (2019-2020) and subsequent political positioning referenced in campaign coverage.

5. Public sector union influence on education funding via property taxes is a longstanding structural issue in Ohio and nationally, with data from state budget analyses.

6. Cultural commentary on media, music, and sports analogies stems from decades of personal observation of societal shifts.

7. The Politics of Heaven manuscript explores deeper spiritual and historical layers informing political analysis.

Bibliography for Further Reading

• Skousen, W. Cleon. The Naked Communist. Ensign Publishing, 1958/1961 editions. (Core text on communist strategies.)

• Congressional Record, January 10, 1963, Appendix pp. A34-A35 (reprinting Skousen’s 45 goals).

• Kasich administration records and Ohio Secretary of State archives on the SB5 referendum.

• Ballotpedia and Ohio Capital Journal coverage of the 2026 gubernatorial race, Amy Acton, and Vivek Ramaswamy.

• U.S. Department of Education history and funding analyses (creation 1979 onward).

• Reports on public sector union political spending (e.g., from National Right to Work Legal Defense Foundation and state transparency databases).

• Historical works on labor movement origins, including influences from European socialist and communist organizers.

• Biblical Archaeology Review archives and related texts on ancient Ohio cultures (Hopewell trade networks) for broader civilizational context.

• Solzhenitsyn, Aleksandr. The Gulag Archipelago and One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich (insights into communist systems in practice).

• Hayek, F.A. The Road to Serfdom (warnings on central planning and loss of liberty).

• Selected Federalist Papers and Founding documents for contrast to modern institutional capture.

• Ohio campaign finance records on progressive funding in recent elections.

• Personal essays and podcast transcripts from The Overman Warrior Podcast (ongoing reflections on these themes).

Rich Hoffman

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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

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About the Author: Rich Hoffman

Make a Footstool Out of Your Enemies in Ohio: Vivek Ramaswamy, Amy Acton, and Why Democrats Are Panicking in a Red State–and why the Rooster had to go to jail

The great serpent watches over our dance, and right now in Ohio politics, it’s coiling tightly around the desperate maneuvers of progressives who know they’re in trouble. There aren’t enough Democrats in Ohio, especially when President Trump comes out campaigning this summer. I’ve been involved in politics long enough to see the patterns, and this one is clear as day. Vivek Ramaswamy is going to win the governorship, likely in the 55% range or better against Amy Acton, and that reality has the left losing its mind.¹

It’s early in the general election cycle as of mid-June 2026, but the signs are unmistakable. Recent polling shows a tight race on paper, but I believe it significantly understates Ramaswamy’s strength. Take the Echelon Insights poll from early April showing Ramaswamy at 49% to Acton’s 44%. Or NC Research with Ramaswamy ahead 53-43. Even in tighter surveys like Bowling Green State University’s April poll, it was essentially a statistical tie around 48-47. A late May/early June Fox News poll had Acton at 50% and Ramaswamy at 49%.² But here’s my take, grounded in years of watching Ohio elections: these numbers are better for Vivek than they appear. Conservatives and industrious Republicans like me often don’t answer polls. I had one the other day—someone calling because I vote in every primary and general. I was too busy to engage. Many busy, working people on our side feel the same. We’re not sitting around waiting for pollsters. That non-response bias tilts the real electorate further toward Ramaswamy.³

Democrats know this too. That’s why they’re desperate, rallying around figures like “The Rooster”—D.J. Byrnes, the progressive blogger arrested at the Statehouse in early June for allegedly sending an explicit, digitally altered image of Shrek with an exposed penis to a state senator. They frame it as Republicans crushing free speech, but let’s be honest: sending disgraceful material like that to elected officials isn’t journalism or protected speech. It’s harassment. I don’t want senators dealing with that kind of behavior from so-called media members. The Rooster has a history of pushing boundaries, and Democrats defend it because it fits their pattern—low ethical standards, tolerance for chaos, and hostility toward law and order.⁴

This desperation stems from deeper demographic and cultural realities. Ohio isn’t California or New York. It’s a state that has consistently leaned Republican in recent cycles, especially at the statewide level. There aren’t enough reliable Democratic voters to overcome the MAGA wave, particularly with Trump actively supporting candidates like Ramaswamy and Jon Husted. Trump’s endorsement and summer appearances will solidify the base and pull in independents and even some union Democrats. Sherrod Brown knows the writing is on the wall too—his Senate race faces similar headwinds.⁵

Amy Acton’s campaign is trying every angle. She leans on her time as state health director during COVID, pandering to nurses, teachers’ unions, and public sector interests. “Remember how I supported the unions,” she signals. But that’s a losing message in 2026. Public sector unions, especially teachers’ unions pushing levies every few years, have radicalized themselves. The old model of zip-code-based funding and collective bargaining, which inflates costs, is dying. The future is student-centered funding—money follows the child, not the district bureaucracy. I’ve been saying this for years, going back to my heavy involvement around Senate Bill 5 in 2011-2012.⁶

I had my name all over discussions about SB 5. I was on WLW radio multiple times a week, pushing the argument that public-sector unions bargaining for taxpayer-funded benefits create perverse incentives. It wasn’t perfectly messaged at the time, and Republicans took a hit in the 2011 repeal vote, but the underlying principle was sound. Taxpayers deserve value. Acton’s union pandering won’t win over the broader electorate. Many union members, especially in places like Youngstown and northern Ohio, have shifted toward Trump and MAGA priorities—law and order, economic realism, America First. They’re not buying the big-government Marxism anymore.⁷

I’ve watched this evolution closely from Butler County. As someone deeply engaged in local issues, Lakota schools, tax fights, and statewide races, I see coalition-building underway. Vivek Ramaswamy brings fresh energy—entrepreneurial success, anti-woke clarity, and a vision for reducing government bloat. Pair that with Trump’s endorsement and events this summer, and the path is clear. Internal polling that Democrats have seen must be grim. That’s why the panic attacks and personal attacks ramp up. They can’t win on policy, so they smear.⁸

Progressives like the Rooster crowd—often smelling of marijuana, hanging at music festivals, embracing anarchist vibes—represent a demographic that doesn’t have the numbers. They want big government to shield chaos, erode Christian values, and oppose things like posting the Ten Commandments in courthouses. They hate law and order because it constrains their tendencies. But Ohio voters, by and large, want safety, prosperity, lower taxes, and accountability. Ramaswamy’s message of innovation, school choice, and fiscal responsibility resonates. Property tax relief, income tax reduction—these are winning issues. Democrats’ wealth redistribution and union protection rackets don’t sell here.⁹

Look at the broader national picture. Even in California, there are signs of pushback. I hosted an event at which Steve Hilton announced his gubernatorial run, and I’m optimistic about shifts there, too. Progressive governance has delivered homelessness, crime, and dysfunction. Ohio won’t repeat that mistake. Acton’s COVID record, public sector ties, and alignment with national Democrats who’ve lost touch with working people doom her chances. Polling may fluctuate, but turnout models favor Republicans. Trump’s coattails in a midterm-adjacent year (with strong national sentiment) will help.¹⁰

Republicans need to stay disciplined. Defend school choice, tax reform, and law enforcement without apology. Throw criminals in jail when warranted—like the Rooster case. It’s not about crushing speech; it’s about basic decency and accountability. Democrats do the same when roles reverse and never look back. Balance requires reciprocity. At the polls, make their ideas a footstool. Ohioans want results, not excuses.¹¹

My confidence in Ramaswamy comes from decades of observation. From the Reform Party to the Tea Party to MAGA, the momentum is with commonsense conservatives. Union voters crossing over, independents rejecting radicalism, rural and suburban turnout—the math works. Acton’s path relies on a blue wave that isn’t materializing. Sherrod Brown’s struggles show the same vulnerability.¹²

Trump’s support will seal it. By November, I expect Ramaswamy in the mid-50s, Acton in the 40s. Bank on it. Ohio stays red for good reason.¹³

Footnotes

¹ General observations on Ohio demographics and Trump influence.

² Aggregated from recent polls including Echelon Insights (April 2026), NC Research, Fox News (May/June 2026), Bowling Green State University.

³ Non-response bias in conservative polling.

⁴ Reporting on D.J. Byrnes “The Rooster” arrest for telecommunications harassment involving an explicit image.

⁵ Trump endorsements and Ohio statewide trends.

⁶ SB 5 history and user involvement via WLW radio.

⁷ Union voter shifts toward MAGA.

⁸ Ramaswamy’s platform strengths.

⁹ Progressive demographic limitations.

¹⁰ California parallels and Steve Hilton context.

¹¹ Law-and-order reciprocity.

¹² Broader electoral math.

¹³ Ties to personal philosophy and writings.

Bibliography

• Ohio Capital Journal, “Democrat Amy Acton and Republican Vivek Ramaswamy advance” (May 5, 2026).

• The Hill, Ramaswamy-Acton showdown coverage.

• 270toWin and Wikipedia 2026 Ohio Gubernatorial Polls (various April-June 2026).

• Fox News, Bowling Green State University, Echelon Insights poll toplines.

• Columbus Dispatch and Signal Ohio reporting on “The Rooster” arrest (June 2026).

• Historical coverage of Ohio SB 5 (2011-2012).

• Rich Hoffman’s writings and The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business.

• Additional sources on Ohio politics, unions, and Trump endorsements.

Rich Hoffman

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About the Author: Rich Hoffman

The Personal Cost of Putting Your Name on What You Believe

I’ve spent a good portion of my life learning that once you step into the arena and attach your name to a cause—especially one that challenges the comfortable consensus—there is no clean exit. The fight doesn’t end when the election is over or the levy fails. It follows you. It lingers in the background of every new opportunity, every conversation with agents or publishers, every attempt to build something larger than the immediate battle. People ask me why I keep doing it, why I take the hits, why I don’t just pivot to safer topics that corporate gatekeepers find more palatable. The honest answer is that I never figured out how to look at myself in the mirror, knowing I had walked away from what was right to make life easier. And the longer I’ve stayed in this game, the more I’ve seen how that very decision—to speak plainly and sign my name to it—becomes a lifelong tax on everything else I try to do.

Take the book I’m working on now, The Politics of Heaven. It’s a serious work, the kind that walks through biblical history, spiritual warfare, giants, ancient conspiracies, divine rebellion, and the population agendas that echo across time. I see it as mainstream in ambition—something that could sit on the front tables at Barnes & Noble alongside the big New York releases. Top-level readers who’ve seen the manuscript are excited. They tell me it has that weight. But then the conversation turns, as it always does. “You have some really strong opinions,” they say. “You’re in Ohio, very Republican, very MAGA, very Trump.” The subtext is clear: that baggage makes the project riskier in their world. It’s the same script I heard in 2012 when Tail of the Dragon came out. The book was ready; Hollywood producers were circling; relationships I had built over years in the industry were lining up interviews and options; and then the school board wars detonated everything.

Back then, Lakota was pushing its third levy attempt. I had already poured myself into fighting the first two. I went on WLW radio in Cincinnati multiple times a week, debated on air, did television hits, and wrote pieces that got national pickup in education circles. I called things exactly as I saw them. One line that still follows me everywhere was about the “latte-sipping prostitutes with asses the size of car tires and diamond rings to match.” It was raw, it was honest, and it captured the disconnect between the comfortable insiders pushing tax increases and the families getting squeezed. That phrase became a rallying cry for many people tired of the same old levy machine, but it also painted a target on my back. The corporate media, the teachers’ union allies, the local establishment—they treated it like a declaration of war. And in many ways it was. What followed was an early version of the cancel culture and personal destruction playbook that later got refined against Trump and anyone else who wouldn’t bend the knee.

They went after my reputation, my associations, my ability to make a living outside the fight. WLW started feeling pressure. Hosts and producers who had me on regularly faced heat. Some got demoted, some moved to worse slots, some disappeared from the rotation. The Cincinnati Enquirer and its allies ran over-the-top hit pieces. Corporate types listened to the complaints and quietly distanced themselves. Friends I thought were solid partners in the broader movement pulled away fast when the personal cost rose. It was brutal. I watched people I had stood shoulder to shoulder with suddenly find reasons to create distance. The playbook was clear: isolate the loudest voice, make the price of association too high, and watch the support evaporate. It was personal destruction sold as politics, and it worked on many people. But I kept going. I still helped organize, still spoke out, still put my name on it even when the professional repercussions mounted.

The timing couldn’t have been worse for Tail of the Dragon. The book was built on my deep love of the Smoky Mountains, the Tail of the Dragon road itself, and the culture of freedom and self-reliance it represented. I had spent years building Hollywood contacts precisely so I could get that story out wider. Producers were interested. There was talk of it becoming the next big action-adventure property in the vein of the Fast and the Furious franchise, which was dominating at the time. I had relationships with directors, big-name talent, people who could option material and move it forward. Zuri Hall interviewed me for a television segment promoting the book. She was excellent—sharp, professional—and that clip still holds up more than a decade later. From there, she went on to Access Hollywood, where she covered major projects like The Mandalorian, interviewing Steven Spielberg, John Favreau, Pedro Pascal, and others. Seeing her recently doing disclosure-related interviews brought it all back. That was the kind of platform I was building in 2012, and it was working—until the school levy fight made me radioactive to the very people I needed for the book’s success.

I lost money. I lost momentum. Opportunities that were lining up dried up almost overnight. The same networks that had been friendly suddenly found reasons to pass. The blocklisting was real. Google’s algorithm, YouTube recommendations, social media reach—all of it seemed tuned against anyone who wouldn’t play the game. I’ve been called the “algorithm king” in some circles because I built the Overmanwarrior handle in a way that bypasses some of it—if you search for it, you find me—but that took years of fighting uphill. The platforming, the shadow-banning, the quiet corporate decisions to sideline voices—it was all there in 2012, well before it became a national conversation during Trump’s rise. And I felt it personally. I had cashed in media chips I had built over years of honest work, only to see them spent defending a local school district from another tax grab. The people who benefited from those fights—the families who kept their money, the taxpayers who got a breather—rarely understood the full cost to the guy whose name was out front.

That’s the part most people miss. Once you put your name on it, the fight never really ends. Levies get defeated, but the machine keeps grinding. In 2013, another attempt came, and we fought it again. By then, some of the RINOs who had gone along with the earlier efforts had learned, or at least pretended to learn. We later stood together on other issues. But the personal toll lingered. I remember sitting in an office with one of the key organizers—a good friend, a successful person—around Christmas 2012 after the second levy fight. Snow was falling. He looked at me and asked, in essence, how many more of these I had in me. Could someone else step up as the public face? Could I hand off the platform I had built to promote my book and chase the Hollywood opportunities that were slipping away? The answer, unfortunately, was no. Nobody else wanted to take the heat. The same dynamic plays out everywhere good people stay silent: the fear of being labeled, blocked, or professionally damaged keeps them on the sidelines. So I stayed in it. I kept speaking. I kept signing my name—Rich Hoffman—at the bottom of every piece.

And I paid for it. Millions of dollars in potential earnings walked away because I wouldn’t bend. I’ve had opportunities at the top of the entertainment pyramid that most people would kill for. I’ve sat in catering tents with A-list talent, producers, and executives during projects where big checks were being written. I warned people early about what Facebook was doing—how they were paying influencers to migrate audiences from MySpace, collecting data, building a machine that would later be weaponized for censorship. I saw it firsthand in 2008-era Hollywood events. But when it came time to choose between protecting my community from endless tax increases and chasing the next big Hollywood deal, I chose the community. I chose truth as a weapon. I said what needed to be said, even when it hurt feelings, even when it cost alliances, even when it made me the villain in the corporate media narrative. That “latte-sipping prostitute” line earned me political credibility that has helped in Butler County and across Ohio for years, but it also became a permanent asterisk next to my name in certain circles.

People who weren’t there like to lecture me now about being a sellout, a Rhino, too close to establishment Republicans, too supportive of Israel or the military, whatever the current purity test requires. They have no idea. They weren’t in the room when the pressure was applied. They didn’t watch producers and agents pull back because a local Ohio writer had “strong opinions.” They didn’t see the friends who ran away when the media heat got too high. A few people stood by me when it counted—prominent politicians on the rise at the time, folks in the Overman Warrior’s network who met behind the scenes and didn’t flinch. I remember them. I don’t forget loyalty in hard times. But they were the exception. Most ran for cover. That’s human nature when the machine turns its focus on you. And the machine never forgets either. It’s why the same tactics that were used on me in 2012 got perfected later against Trump, against parents at school boards, against anyone who challenges the narrative.

I’ve thought a lot about why this happens. Part of it is spiritual. I see these battles through the lens of The Politics of Heaven—the same forces of control, deception, and spiritual warfare that have played out across history. The grind is designed to wear you down so that good people self-censor. Why risk your career, your book deals, your family’s stability when staying quiet is so much easier? I understand the temptation. I’ve felt the exhaustion after more than a dozen years of this. But I also know that once you compromise on the small things, the big things become impossible to defend. I’ve watched public education fights, tax fights, cultural fights. The levies at Lakota haven’t passed another big one since we stood firm, but the pressure never went away. The same two-tier systems, the same institutional failures I saw up close as a Butler County grand jury foreman, the same media manipulation—it all continues. And every time I try to launch something new—like this book, which could reach a much wider audience—the old fights are dragged out again as reasons to hesitate.

The personal destruction element is what stays with me most. It wasn’t just politics. It was an attempt to destroy my ability to operate in the world I had built. I will never forgive the people who orchestrated that, particularly elements tied to the local paper and the broader machine that amplified it. Trump talks about never forgetting those who came after him, and I feel the same way. Once the shot is taken, it can’t be taken back. But here’s what I also know: living bigger than the attacks helps. I’ve built a life and a body of work that stands on its own. I’ve raised a family, worked in aerospace at executive levels, traveled with my wife to NASA, Blue Origin, SpaceX, the Museum of the Bible, and Gettysburg. I launch model rockets with my grandson in the rain and teach him resilience. I write thousands of words in the evenings after long days because the ideas matter more than the comfort of silence. And I still put my name—Rich Hoffman—on everything.

That’s the trade-off. You cash in chips of influence to fight for what’s right, and you hope the broader impact outweighs the personal cost. In the Lakota fights, we gave many people a blueprint for resisting tax increases. My platform helped teach others how to fight. The “latte” line became a cultural touchstone in local politics. Influence built there has carried into other Butler County races, school issues, and beyond. But every new project carries a shadow. Agents and publishers for The Politics of Heaven want sample interviews, and I can point to strong ones—like the Zuri Hall segment—but the first thing they see is the conservative, Trump-aligned, outspoken record. It scares some of them. That’s the cost. I could soften the edges, distance myself from past fights, chase the New York Times centerpiece dream without the baggage. But that would betray everything I’ve stood for. I won’t do it.

I’ve given up millions in potential earnings over the years to look in the mirror and know I fought honestly. I turned away from magnificent opportunities in entertainment because ethics mattered more. I walked away from gigs that would have been life-changing financially because I wouldn’t lend my name or credibility to things I knew were wrong. And I’d do it again. The fighters who step up never get to hand off the baton cleanly. The battles linger because the underlying problems—government overreach, cultural decay, spiritual forces at work—don’t go away. They adapt. They wait for new levies, new mandates, new cultural pressures. Good people who could speak get ground down by the personal price until they stay quiet. That’s how the system maintains control.

When people write me now and accuse me of being part of the problem because I support certain policies or work with imperfect allies, I shake my head. They have no idea what it costs to stay in the fight for sixteen years and counting. They weren’t there when the media was hammering me daily, when radio doors closed, when Hollywood interest evaporated. They don’t see the family time traded, the book sales impacted, the quiet blacklisting that still affects reach. But I can live with it. I have integrity intact. I have authority that comes from having skin in the game. And I have the satisfaction of knowing that when I sign my name to something, it means something because I’ve paid the price for it.

The Politics of Heaven will come out one way or another. It may not get the easy mainstream rollout some books enjoy, but it will reach the people who need it. I’ll keep doing the interviews, building the platform, speaking plainly. I’ll keep putting my name next to the truth even when it costs. Because in the end, that’s what separates those who merely complain from those who actually stand. The grind is real. The personal destruction is real. The lingering shadow of old fights is real. But so is the reward of looking back and knowing you never sold out. I sleep fine at night. I look my grandchildren in the eye and teach them to do the same. And I’ll keep writing, keep fighting, keep signing Rich Hoffman to every word.

That’s the cost. And I’d pay it again. And in many ways, I still am.

1. Personal observations from the 2012 media cycle and subsequent blocklisting patterns, cross-referenced with broader studies on algorithmic suppression post-2010.

2. Accounts of WLW programming shifts and local Cincinnati media coverage during Lakota levy campaigns.

Bibliography (selective for depth):

• Hoffman, Rich. Tail of the Dragon. (early editions, 2012).

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

• Various Biblical Archaeology Review archives (lifelong reading).

• Ohio education policy documents on property tax levies, Butler County records.

• Studies on social media platform migration and data practices circa 2008-2012.

• Trump-era documentation of similar personal destruction tactics for pattern comparison.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

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

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

The Road to Cincinnati: Navigating emotional intelligence without the temptations of corruption

In the quiet hours after dinner, when the house settles and the day’s demands fade, there is a ritual that has shaped much of my understanding of the world: reading. Four or five books a week, many of them compact volumes around 150 pages, devoured not in hurried skimming but in focused sessions that stretch from six in the evening until bedtime near eleven. This habit is no idle pastime. It is a deliberate investment in clarity, particularly when navigating the complexities of leadership, politics, family, and personal integrity. One such book, The Project Management Blueprint by Richard Stone, published in 2024 in the post-COVID landscape, caught my attention midway through for its emphasis on an often-overlooked aspect in traditional management texts: emotional intelligence.

This focus struck me as refreshingly at odds with some of the more performative trends in modern corporate and institutional culture. Here was a practical guide acknowledging that technical skills alone do not suffice. Success in projects—and by extension, in life—requires the ability to understand and manage emotions, both one’s own and others’. Far from being a sign of weakness or compromise, emotional intelligence emerges as a tool for maintaining personal integrity amid the inevitable collisions of differing viewpoints. This essay explores that distinction at length: how cultivating emotional intelligence does not equate to corruption, but rather equips individuals to navigate human systems without eroding their core convictions.

Emotional intelligence, as framed in the book and echoed in broader management literature, encompasses self-awareness, self-regulation, motivation, empathy, and social skills. Daniel Goleman’s foundational work popularized these ideas, showing how they predict success more reliably than IQ in many interpersonal domains. In project management, this translates into listening to stakeholders, fostering buy-in, and guiding teams toward shared objectives without dictating from above. The Project Management Blueprint dedicates sections to fundamentals of emotional intelligence in business, highlighting its role in post-pandemic environments where hybrid work, diverse teams, and heightened sensitivities demand nuanced leadership.

Consider a simple family road trip as a microcosm. Imagine coordinating a vacation with a spouse of 38 years, adult children, and grandchildren. Everyone piles into multiple vehicles heading toward Cincinnati or some distant destination. Preferences clash immediately: one wants Chick-fil-A, another Cracker Barrel, a third the Love’s Travel Center. Backseat drivers offer unsolicited route advice—“Take 75 through the traffic,” or “No, the back roads are better.” If you are the driver, the path seems obvious to you. Solitude offers efficiency; alone, you could chart the course perfectly, stopping only where you choose. Yet family life demands inclusion. Granting autonomy to each contributor—listening, incorporating feasible inputs—builds investment. Dismiss them curtly, and resentment brews. The journey may take longer, but relationships endure.

This balancing act requires emotional intelligence. It is not about abandoning your knowledge of the best route but about securing collective commitment. In families, this sustains marriages and multi-generational bonds. In my own life, it has meant learning to integrate preferences without losing the destination. Personal integrity remains intact because the goal—family unity and safe arrival—transcends individual egos. Those lacking this skill often feel perpetually run over, their wisdom ignored. They retreat into isolation or authoritarian control, both of which fracture groups.

Scale this to politics and organizations. Leadership here mirrors project management: objectives must be defined, stakeholders aligned, and execution managed amid competing visions. Emotional intelligence allows a leader to solicit input, refine plans, and maintain momentum without sacrificing vision. It is the art of getting to “yes” without coercion. Critics sometimes equate this flexibility with corruption, especially in heated arenas like local governance. Yet the distinction is crucial: corruption involves trading principles for personal gain. Emotional intelligence deploys empathy and listening as strategic tools to advance principled goals.

Take the case of Ben Nguyen, the young man recently elected to the Lakota school board. Fresh out of high school and navigating college at Miami University, he demonstrates notable poise in engaging opponents. Rather than digging into ideological trenches, he sits with those holding different views, listens, and seeks workable paths forward. This is not weakness or sell-out behavior; it reflects maturity beyond his years. In a polarized environment, such capacity builds bridges while preserving conservative priorities. High emotional intelligence here serves integrity, not undermines it.

My own experiences in Butler County, Ohio, illustrate these dynamics vividly. Public discourse often swirls with accusations of pedophilia rings or institutional cover-ups involving schools, jails, and law enforcement. When cases surface—such as a Butler Tech student ending up in compromising situations at the Butler County Jail, or concerns about a former Lakota superintendent—outrage is understandable. Communities demand accountability. Yet knee-jerk narratives of grand conspiracies often overlook human realities.

As foreman of a grand jury for about a month, I gained an insider’s view. Interviewing hundreds of officers, interacting with prosecutors, and touring facilities provided context beyond headlines. What emerged was not evidence of orchestrated evil but patterns of human failure. Jails house vulnerable populations alongside seasoned criminals. Staff manage personal crises—divorces, family stresses, financial pressures—while overseeing chaotic environments. Young interns or students enter this pressure cooker. Failures occur: lapses in supervision, poor judgment, boundary violations. These are tragic and demand a rigorous response, but attributing them wholesale to systemic pedophilia conspiracies requires ignoring granular evidence.

I personally toured the Butler County Jail and spoke at length with Sheriff Jones. I investigated claims directly. The sheriff runs a professional operation under difficult constraints. Law enforcement faces resource limits, legal hurdles in prosecutions, and grand juries composed of citizens with varying emotional investments. During my tenure, emotional intelligence proved valuable in guiding deliberations—helping diverse jurors focus on the evidence, weigh testimony fairly, and advance viable cases. Prosecutors appreciated this facilitation because it moved justice forward without railroading or dismissing concerns.

This work revealed layers. Institutions staffed by thousands inevitably reflect human frailty. Employees bring personal baggage to work. Some succumb to temptations, especially in high-stress, emotionally charged settings. Biblical wisdom offers deeper remedies here: cultivating inner goodness, moral foundations, and personal restraint surpasses bureaucratic rules alone. Expecting flawless institutional safeguards ignores original sin and fallen nature. Solutions blend accountability, cultural emphasis on virtue, and realistic expectations of oversight.

Critics who cry “corruption” when leaders engage power structures—accepting invitations, building relationships, or appearing in photos—often miss this nuance. Befriending officials does not equal capture if one retains independence. Emotional intelligence discerns manipulation while leveraging alliances for the public good. In my case, access enabled deeper scrutiny of the jail incident and related matters. Understanding motives—on all sides—strengthens rather than weakens integrity. The insecure, fearing contamination, withdraw and lob accusations from afar. Those secure in their convictions engage, probe, and influence without absorption.

This principle extends broadly. In corporate management post-COVID, books like The Project Management Blueprint address new realities: remote teams, DEI pressures, shifting loyalties. Emotional intelligence counters “woke” excesses not through reflexive opposition but by prioritizing outcomes. A project manager who listens to diverse inputs yet anchors decisions in measurable goals demonstrates strength, not capitulation. Dismissing EI as soft or anti-intellectual ignores its practical power. Studies consistently link it to better team performance, conflict resolution, and project success rates.

Personal integrity withstands collaboration when rooted deeply. Marriage teaches this daily: compromising on dinner plans or vacation itineraries does not dissolve identity. Similarly, in politics, narrowing platforms to two or three resonant issues—finding common ground for voter investment—builds coalitions. Insisting on purity at every margin isolates and fails. Effective leaders identify investable objectives, accommodate feasible inputs, and steer toward results. This mirrors project management: define scope, manage stakeholders, deliver value.

The alternative—rigid insistence on one’s route regardless of passengers—may reach the destination faster but leaves fractured relationships. In families, it breeds resentment. In politics, it yields lonely ideologues who are ineffective at governance. In organizations, it produces high turnover and stalled initiatives. Emotional intelligence mitigates this without erasing self. It requires self-awareness to recognize when inputs enhance rather than derail, self-regulation to manage frustration with “backseat drivers,” and empathy to validate others’ perspectives even when they are flawed.

Critics of high-EI leaders often project their insecurities. Feeling unheard themselves, they assume accommodation signals weakness. Yet secure individuals view dialogue as a strength. They maintain core convictions—on family values, fiscal responsibility, the rule of law, and the protection of children—while navigating human ecosystems. In Butler County cases, thorough investigation honored outrage while grounding responses in facts. Grand jury processes demand persuasion: presenting evidence compellingly so citizens “buy in” to indictments. This is emotional intelligence applied to justice.

Developing this capacity is possible. The Project Management Blueprint and similar texts suggest trainable skills such as active listening, emotional self-assessment, and conflict transformation. Leaders should cultivate it within teams, creating cultures that value contribution without chaos. Biblical parallels abound—Proverbs on wisdom in counsel, Jesus engaging diverse audiences while upholding truth. Institutions cannot legislate goodness, but they can foster environments discouraging vice.

In politics, this manifests as team-building. Endorsing candidates or central committee work succeeds by highlighting shared priorities. Voters invest in relatable figures who listen yet lead. Dismissing emotional intelligence as corruption misunderstands both concepts. Corruption betrays trust for gain. Intelligence harmonizes without betrayal. The difference lies in foundation: those anchored in principle, weather influence; the unmoored drift.

My reading habit reinforces this. Amid noise, books provide perspective. Post-dinner sessions accumulate knowledge steadily. Business texts, histories, management guides—most compact, completable in five to ten hours—compound insight. Skipping television or other distractions yields surprising productivity gains. This discipline mirrors emotional intelligence: prioritizing long-term growth over immediate impulses.

Ultimately, high emotional intelligence enhances personal integrity rather than eroding it. It equips individuals to engage complexity—family logistics, political coalitions, institutional challenges—while preserving self. In a world quick to accuse compromise, we need more leaders like Ben Nguyen: young, principled, capable of dialogue. More citizens should investigate claims directly, as I did with the jail. More should read widely, reflect deeply, and practice listening without losing direction.

The road to Cincinnati, literal or metaphorical, improves with passengers who feel heard. The driver retains the wheel, guided by wisdom and conviction. Emotional intelligence ensures arrival together, relationships intact. This is not corruption. It is mature leadership, essential for thriving families, effective governance, and successful endeavors. As more people embrace it, communities strengthen against human frailties that no policy can fully eradicate. The foundation remains personal virtue, cultivated daily through habits like reading, reflection, and intentional engagement.

Bibliography for Further Reading

• Stone, Richard. The Project Management Blueprint: How Any Beginner Can Master the Art of Project Management (2024).

• Goleman, Daniel. Emotional Intelligence: Why It Can Matter More Than IQ.

• Various PMI resources on EI in project management.

• Biblical texts, particularly Proverbs and Gospels, for moral foundations.

• Local Butler County public records and grand jury insights (anonymized where appropriate).

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

The Fragility of Principles: Thomas Massie’s Defeat and the Consolidation of the Republican Party Under Trump

I have watched with a mixture of frustration and clarity as long-standing debates within conservative circles have reached a decisive inflection point. The recent primary defeat of Representative Thomas Massie in Kentucky’s 4th Congressional District exemplifies more than a personal political loss; it reveals the deep fractures and necessary realignments within the Republican Party. Massie, long viewed by some as a principled libertarian voice, fell to a Trump-endorsed challenger in what became the most expensive U.S. House primary in history, underscoring the power of unified vision over fragmented ideological purity tests.

For years, I have engaged with Tea Party activists, libertarians, and constitutional conservatives who emphasized fiscal restraint, limited government, and individual liberties. Many of these individuals rode the wave of Ron Paul’s campaigns, advocating for auditing the Federal Reserve, ending endless wars, and resisting federal overreach. I respected their sincerity. Sitting in rooms with them, discussing authentic pursuit of justice and righteousness, felt energizing. Yet, when push came to shove—particularly regarding figures like Rand Paul or broader strategic choices—divergences emerged. Some pivoted toward marijuana legalization as a liberty issue, a stance I did not share, viewing it through the lens of cultural and societal impacts rather than pure non-intervention. These debates were healthy in theory, but they exposed a risk: when ideological consistency becomes absolutist, it can blind one to practical coalitions needed for victory.

Massie’s loss was not merely about one congressman. It represented the rejection of a faction that, while waving the banner of conservatism, often aligned tactically against the broader MAGA movement’s momentum. Trump has systematically challenged RINO elements—Republicans In Name Only—who prioritize institutional comfort over transformative change. Massie’s record included criticism of Trump’s foreign policy, notably regarding Iran, and pushed for greater transparency on the Jeffrey Epstein files. While transparency in government is vital, the selective emphasis by some critics on Epstein served as a wedge. I have long opposed pedophilia and elite exploitation networks in all forms. Epstein’s crimes were horrific, involving powerful figures across parties, including Bill Clinton’s documented flights and associations. Yet, the narrative weaponized against Trump—that mere proximity or old social ties equated to complicity—echoed left-wing media tactics designed to erode his base.

I recall the Epstein files’ long shadow. Investigations and releases have highlighted a web of intelligence ties, blackmail potential, and compromised elites. Massie and others advocated for full disclosure, naming figures like Leon Black, Jes Staley, and Leslie Wexner in congressional settings. This work deserves acknowledgment for its efforts to seek justice for victims. However, using it to paint Trump as equally tainted ignores key distinctions. Trump banned Epstein from Mar-a-Lago after reports of inappropriate conduct, and no credible evidence from the files has substantiated direct involvement in criminal acts matching the scale pushed in opposition narratives. The intelligence community’s history of leveraging such operations for influence—potentially involving Mossad or other actors—complicates the picture further, but does not implicate every associate equally.

The pedophilia smear tactic is particularly insidious. It conflates association with guilt and demands one-size-fits-all condemnation. Real pedophilia cases in schools, involving teachers and administrators abusing minors, represent a clear societal failure demanding prosecution. Epstein’s network, tied to intelligence gathering and elite protection rackets, differs in scope and intent. To equate Trump’s peripheral past connections with active participation is a distortion. Democrats and their allies have projected their own vulnerabilities—Clinton’s Lolita Express logs, for instance—onto Trump while rallying around figures with documented issues. This is not principled conservatism; it is narrative warfare meant to fracture the right.

I have known Tea Party types for years who now express dismay at Trump’s dominance. They lament the loss of “pure” constitutionalism, seeing Massie as a bulwark. Yet, their approach often mirrors a live-and-let-die libertarianism that fails in a polarized republic. Government is not absent; it is captured. Endless wars serve the military-industrial complex, as Eisenhower warned. Fiscal irresponsibility balloons debt. Cultural decay advances through institutions. Standing against everything without building winning coalitions achieves little. Trump’s agenda—securing borders, renegotiating trade, challenging bureaucratic elites, and exposing corruption—has delivered measurable shifts. His endorsements carry weight because they signal alignment with a movement that wins.

Consider parallel dynamics in Ohio. Efforts to undermine Vivek Ramaswamy’s path to the gubernatorial nomination echoed the anti-Massie resistance, yet Vivek prevailed as a Trump-aligned innovator. Critics painted him as inauthentic or overly ambitious, much like Massie supporters decried Trump’s pragmatism. These attacks often stem from the same fragility: discomfort with the compromises of victory. I prefer winning. I have sat with governors and officials, even those with whom I disagreed, to extract leverage for better outcomes—such as Second Amendment protections, business-friendly policies, or course corrections on past errors like COVID mandates. Shaking “potatoes out of the bag,” as practical politics demands, requires engagement rather than perpetual outsider protest.

Massie’s supporters invoked his consistency: voting against bloated spending, questioning foreign entanglements, and pressing Epstein transparency. These are defensible in isolation. However, consistency without adaptability risks irrelevance. The Republican Party under Trump has absorbed Tea Party energies while directing them toward electoral success. Massie’s opposition to key Trump priorities, including aspects of Israel policy and domestic agenda items, positioned him as an obstacle rather than an asset. Pro-Israel stances, for many, reflect strategic alliances against shared threats like radical Islamism, not blind militarism. Destroying threats like Iran’s nuclear ambitions or Hamas infrastructure aligns with strength-through-peace realism, not forever wars.

The anti-Trump sentiment within libertarian-leaning circles often imports left-leaning narratives: Trump as sociopath, pedophile enabler, or authoritarian. These claims crumble under scrutiny. The Epstein files, while revealing, have not produced the smoking gun against Trump that detractors hoped. Media coordination, deep-state resistance, and selective leaks suggest information warfare rather than an organic scandal. I reject the notion that supporting Trump equates to endorsing corruption. Pedophilia is abhorrent regardless of politics. But weaponizing incomplete files to divide conservatives aids Democrats like those in Ohio—David Pepper, Mark Elias—who thrive on Republican infighting.

My experience in media and commentary has reinforced independence. No sponsors dictate my views. I engage Republicans to strengthen the party, pushing the Trump agenda of America First: economic nationalism, cultural preservation, institutional reform. This includes bringing in talent like Ramaswamy, whose entrepreneurial background complements policy depth. Critics who cheered potential assassinations or chaos reveal their preference for complaint over construction. They validate existence through opposition, not governance.

The Tea Party’s early promise—fiscal hawkishness, constitutional fidelity—morphed for some into anti-Trump zealotry. Ron Paul enthusiasts who favored him or Cruz over Trump in 2016 often cited non-interventionism. Trump’s record, however, includes the Abraham Accords, no new major wars initiated, and pressure on allies to share the burden. Massie’s criticisms of Iran policy in Trump’s second term highlighted tensions, yet strategic destruction of threats differs from neoconservative nation-building.

Epstein’s case warrants full accountability. Networks involving intelligence agencies, global elites, and blackmail compromise sovereignty—Massie’s efforts to name implicated figures advanced public knowledge. Yet, selective outrage—ignoring Clinton, Gates, or others while fixating on Trump—betrays bias. The files’ slow release, redactions, and lack of mass arrests point to institutional protection rather than partisan exoneration. Victims deserve justice beyond political theater.

Broader lessons emerge. Republican success demands unity against Democrats, not self-cannibalization. Democrats coordinate despite ideological extremes; Republicans historically fracture. Trump’s endorsements demonstrate voter preference for loyalty to results over rhetoric. Massie’s defeat, alongside similar purges, signals a party’s maturation: one prioritizing victory.

I support a strong Republican Party advancing Trump-era priorities: border security, energy dominance, deregulation, and exposing elite rot. Libertarian purity has value in discourse but falters in governance. Coalitions require compromise—agreeing on enough to defeat the left. Enemies are clear: progressive policies eroding liberties, economic socialism, and cultural Marxism. Internal division aids them.

Friends from Tea Party days feel betrayed by my stance. I value their sincerity but choose logic. Winning requires embracing imperfect vehicles for larger goals. Trump’s resilience, despite lawfare and smears, proves the base’s discernment. Associating him with Epstein pedophilia networks is a sucker play, buying media manipulation. Real pedophilia demands action across society—schools, churches, elites—not selective political hits.

In Ohio and nationally, patterns repeat. Anti-Vivek efforts mirrored anti-Massie ones, yet results favored consolidation. I engage with officials who disagree for incremental wins, as with past governors on gun rights or business recovery. Perpetual opposition yields nothing; leverage does.

The Epstein distraction tactic failed to derail Trump previously and will continue failing. Files reveal systemic corruption, but Trump’s distance from core criminality holds. This is not denial but contextual realism. One-size-fits-all approaches ignore nuances: Epstein as an intelligence asset versus schoolyard predators.

Ultimately, Massie’s fall illustrates the limits of rebellion without broader buy-in. Principles matter, but so does efficacy. I chose the winning team, pulling diverse conservatives into a victorious framework. Democrats are the primary adversary. Strengthening the GOP under Trump advances that fight. Libertarians who cannot adapt risk marginalization. Victory builds better days—secure borders, a prosperous economy, accountable elites. This path, though imperfect, delivers where isolation does not.

Footnotes

¹ Primary results and spending data from AP and NPR reporting, May 2026.

² Massie’s statements on Epstein files, ABC and congressional records, 2025-2026.

³ Trump-Massie history, NBC and WSJ timelines.

⁴ Ohio gubernatorial primary outcomes, BBC and NBC, May 2026.

⁵ Broader discussions on the military-industrial complex drawn from Eisenhower’s Farewell Address and contemporary analyses.

Additional footnotes reference public records on Epstein associates, voting histories, and party platforms.

Bibliography for Further Reading

• Associated Press. “Takeaways from Tuesday’s Primaries: Massie’s Loss Leaves No Doubt About Trump’s Power Over the GOP.” May 2026.

• NPR. “Endorsed by Trump, Ed Gallrein Defeats Rep. Thomas Massie.” May 19, 2026.

• The Hill. “Massie, Khanna Spotted 6 Individuals ‘Likely Incriminated’ in Epstein Files.” February 2026.

• CBS Austin. “Lawmaker Names Three Men from the Epstein Files.” February 2026.

• Wall Street Journal. “Thomas Massie’s Lonely and Expensive Fight Against Trump.” May 2026.

• NBC News. “Rep. Thomas Massie Confronts the Full Force of Trump’s Wrath.” May 2026.

• BBC. “Vivek Ramaswamy Wins Republican Nomination for Ohio Governor.” May 2026.

• Wikipedia. “2026 Ohio Gubernatorial Election.” (For primary data).

• Forbes. “Rep. Thomas Massie Loses Primary After Trump Nemesis Campaign.” May 2026.

• Reuters. “Trump Purges Another Republican Critic with Massie Defeat.” May 2026.

• Additional sources: Eisenhower’s 1961 Farewell Address; Ron Paul campaign literature 2008-2012; Books on intelligence and blackmail operations (e.g., public Epstein court documents); Analyses of the Tea Party movement in “The Tea Party and the Remaking of Republican Conservatism” by Theda Skocpol.

• Further reading: Congressional voting records via GovTrack; Epstein file releases via DOJ archives; Trump policy achievements 2017-2021 and post-2024.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

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