Tag: Down the Rabbit Hole

Outside the Box: COVID Vindication, Hidden Influences, and yes, I told everyone so

I have always lived outside the box. While most people see only the trees right in front of them—the regimented routines, the narrow daily concerns, the approved narratives—I have survived and found my greatest happiness and clearest insights almost exclusively through big-picture thoughts, concepts, and discussions. When I am forced into the box, I am extremely unhappy. Outside of it, I am pretty happy, and I have a lot to share with people who are willing to look up from the immediate and see the patterns across time. That is why, six or seven years from now, when the conversation about non-human intelligence and its long influence on human affairs becomes mainstream—partly through my own work with the book The Politics of Heaven—many will wonder how I knew what I knew back in 2020 and what I am saying now. The answer is simple: I live outside the box, where the forest is visible, and the hidden hands become apparent.

Just recently, as Tulsi Gabbard concluded her service as Director of National Intelligence in the Trump administration, she highlighted truths that those of us who have followed the COVID story closely have known for years.[^1] Gain-of-function research at the Wuhan Institute of Virology, funded with millions in U.S. taxpayer dollars through channels that included EcoHealth Alliance and ultimately NIH oversight, produced a virus that was made transmissible to humans in ways that natural evolution had not achieved.[^2] It was not a simple bat spillover in a wet market. Dr. Anthony Fauci, in his testimony before Congress, parsed words carefully and denied funding for gain-of-function research under the definitions he preferred, but the evidence from emails, proposals like DEFUSE, and the very nature of the research conducted shows otherwise. He misled the public and lawmakers. Perjury before Congress is a serious matter, and it should carry consequences. It took six years for these confirmations to gain official traction in some circles. I was calling it from day one when the virus emerged from that airport in China, and the stories began to shift. I saw it because the people inside the box were the ones constructing the narrative to hide the truth, and from the outside, the pattern was obvious.

The same dynamic unfolded right here in Ohio during the lockdowns. I was on those conference calls with Jon Husted, who served as a key point of contact trying to bridge the concerns of business owners and executives with the administration. We were asking practical questions: How do we keep businesses open? How do we protect workers and customers without destroying livelihoods and constitutional rights? Governor Mike DeWine was listening closely to his Health Director, Amy Acton—our version of Dr. Fauci in Ohio.[^3] The memos were floating around from the federal health establishment, and they knew the constitutional walls were being tested and breached. Stay-at-home orders, business closures, school shutdowns, and the whole apparatus of control were put in place under emergency powers that stretched far beyond what the people or the legislature had authorized. It was sold as keeping us safe, as if a public health official could write policy that would override the Constitution and turn the governor’s office into an extension of that vision. Now, years later, DeWine is positioning himself as the compassionate voice calling for the abolition of the death penalty, saying it is not a deterrent after all these decades.[^4] He helped craft the law as a state legislator, defended it as Attorney General, yet now on his way out, he wants to be remembered as the one who questioned it. The same man who expanded Medicaid under pressure to appear more progressive after earlier battles with public unions and collective bargaining. These politicians often find themselves in trouble because they listen to the wrong voices—the ones inside the box who prioritize short-term safety narratives and political positioning over the big picture of liberty, accountability, and human nature.

I remember the feeling in 2020 all too well. I carry firearms, as people who know me understand. I was prepared to draw a hard line if unconstitutional checkpoints or enforcement actions came to my door or my community. I was close to a bridge too far. The treatment of January 6 defendants—many held in harsh conditions for what amounted to political expression or presence—showed exactly what the machinery could do when it chose to. I love law and order and a stable society, but when that machinery is weaponized against free citizens who have done nothing wrong, it ceases to be law and becomes something darker. I was on those calls and in my writings arguing the constitutional problems from the beginning. With some influence among legislators who were also concerned, we helped prevent the worst scenarios from taking hold in Ohio. Thank God we did not end up with a situation where I or others were pulled over unconstitutionally and forced into a confrontation that could have escalated. But it was not because I was unwilling to stand. I had drawn my line. Even Rush Limbaugh, in the last year of his life, was cautioning about the overreach and the importance of listening to the right voices. I was saying it earlier, more directly, because I see where the inside-the-box crowd hides what they do not want examined—outside the box, in plain sight for those willing to look.

The costs were immense and are still being counted. More than 1.1 million Americans lost their lives in connection with COVID-19.[^5] Economic analyses projected GDP losses in the range of $3 trillion to $5 trillion or more in the initial years from the combination of the pandemic and the policy responses, with mandatory closures and reopenings being the dominant factor in the downturn. Small businesses—restaurants, gyms, shops, service providers—were shuttered or crippled, many permanently. Mental health crises surged, overdoses increased, domestic issues rose, and a generation of children suffered learning loss and social setbacks whose full measure we are only beginning to understand. In Ohio specifically, the early and strict orders under DeWine and Acton had real human and economic consequences. People died not only from the virus but from delayed medical care, from isolation, from the despair that comes when livelihoods and communities are upended by top-down decree. All of it was made worse because the truth about the virus’s origins and the proper limits of power was suppressed or attacked as dangerous misinformation by those inside the box who could not afford to admit what they had done or enabled.

Now the confirmations are emerging. Fauci and the apparatus he oversaw knew more than they let on. The research that made a non-transmissible virus transmissible to humans was real, and U.S. funding played a role. Taxpayers paid for it. Lives were lost or forever altered because of it and the subsequent cover stories. If we do not hold people accountable—if we do not prosecute perjury and malfeasance when the evidence is this clear—then we should not be surprised when the next crisis arrives, and the same patterns repeat. When you have the opportunity to confront the lie and you decline, the liar learns that there is no cost. That is not compassion. That is a weakness that invites more harm. The average annual cost to taxpayers for housing inmates in U.S. prisons runs $40,000 to $65,000 or more per person, depending on the jurisdiction[^6], a figure that makes long-term incarceration of irredeemable offenders a perpetual burden without the deterrent or finality some argue the death penalty provides for the worst cases.

But COVID is only the most recent and personal example of a much older and larger pattern. I have been speaking and writing for years about non-human intelligence and the ways it has influenced the human race—in our modern politics and in the deep politics of the past thousands of years. The creation of empires, the divine mandates claimed by pharaohs, the dreams and visions that shaped the decisions of kings and conquerors—these were not always purely human inventions or organic developments. They were often steered, amplified, or initiated by non-human intelligences operating through mechanisms of paranoia, superstition, and religious belief systems that were not the faith of the Bible but the polytheisms of the ancient world, particularly the gods of Canaan and their counterparts across the Near East and beyond. We are now discovering, through the accelerating study of UAP, that these intelligences have been present with Earth and human beings for many thousands of years. The same skepticism and ridicule I faced in 2020 when I spoke about the lab origin and the unconstitutional overreach, I face now when I connect these dots. But in six or seven years, it will be different. It will be safe. There will be correspondents and anchors discussing it who are actually non-human intelligence. There will be podcasts and series that treat it as established context rather than as fringe theory. What seems like science fiction today will be science fact tomorrow, just as the COVID truths I stated in 2020 are now being acknowledged years later.

The Book of Enoch provides one of the clearest ancient windows into this reality.[^7] That text, which I have studied and referenced for decades, describes the Watchers—divine beings who descended, took human wives, and produced the Nephilim, giants whose violence and appetites ravaged the earth. These Watchers did not stop at interbreeding; they taught humanity forbidden knowledge: the working of metals into weapons and ornaments, the use of cosmetics and sorcery for manipulation and deception, the arts of divination and the secrets of the stars and earth. This was technology and occult instruction delivered prematurely, corrupting human development and filling the world with bloodshed and chaos. The judgment of the flood followed, but the influence of these fallen ones and their offspring persisted through bloodlines, secret traditions, and the false religious systems that shaped the great powers of antiquity. The gods of Canaan—Baal with his storms and demands for sacrifice, Asherah and her fertility cults, Molech and the fires that consumed children—were not harmless myths. They were presentations of real intelligences that steered societies toward war, ritual, and control. The pharaohs of Egypt presented themselves as divine incarnations or the recipients of direct oracles from the gods, justifying their absolute rule and military campaigns. Similar patterns appear in Mesopotamian kingship, in the oracles and omens that guided Greek and Roman leaders, and in the visionary experiences claimed by conquerors and rulers across history. From outside the box, these are not random cultural developments; they are evidence of consistent non-human influence operating through the structures of power and belief.

We are seeing the modern face of this same presence in the UAP phenomenon.[^8] These unidentified anomalous phenomena are not new. Ancient texts across cultures record fiery chariots in the sky, beings of light or terror descending, and craft that defies the technology of the time. What has changed is our ability and willingness to document and disclose. Government videos released in recent years, testimony from trained observers including Navy pilots, and statements from intelligence community whistleblowers such as David Grusch have brought the topic into congressional hearings and public debate. In 2026, the push for transparency has led to concrete actions, including the release of historical records through mechanisms such as the PURSUE system under the current administration. Tranches of documents are emerging, adding to the body of evidence that something non-human has been here, interacting at times, and remaining largely hidden. Just as the lab-leak hypothesis for COVID was censored and mocked only to be treated as plausible or likely by multiple intelligence agencies years later, the NHI reality is moving from ridicule to reluctant recognition. The pattern is the same: truth that threatens existing power structures or comfortable narratives is suppressed until it can no longer be contained.

In six or seven years, the conversation will have shifted dramatically. People who today roll their eyes at talk of non-human intelligence influencing human events will be nodding along in podcasts and interviews. The age of disclosure will be in full swing. My book, The Politics of Heaven, completed in 2026 and moving toward publication, is my contribution to providing the framework for understanding what is coming.[^9][^10] It is a treasure hunt through heaven and all human history, tracing biblical conspiracies, the role of giants and demons, the reality of divine rebellion, the nature of spiritual warfare, and the population agendas that have shadowed humanity from ancient times into the present. It connects the dots between the Watchers of Enoch, the false gods of Canaan and Egypt, the hidden influences on empires and kings, and the modern manifestations in technology, media, global institutions, and the UAP question. When you understand the politics of heaven—the real power dynamics that operate behind and through earthly politics—you see why certain patterns repeat, why certain lies persist, and why accountability is so often delayed. The same intelligences that once presented themselves as gods demanding worship and sacrifice have not disappeared; they have adapted their methods to new veils and new technologies.

I was willing to risk confrontation in 2020 because I saw the pattern clearly. The fear was that it would be used to centralize power. Dissent was being pathologized. The Constitution was being treated as optional under the pretext of an emergency. Amy Acton did that in Ohio. I had seen enough of how power operates—in my younger years in the Cincinnati area and across the river in Newport, Kentucky, where I had front-row exposure to the coded ways influence and enforcement worked—to recognize when it was happening again. I was not going to be treated like a January 6 prisoner or have my community subjected to checkpoint enforcement without resistance. Thankfully, cooler heads and some influence in the right places kept the worst from occurring here. But the experience taught me again that being outside the box is not just a preference; it is a survival skill when the box is being used to hide dangerous truths.

Now the question is whether we will learn from the COVID chapter or repeat it on a larger scale. The revelations about gain-of-function and Fauci’s role are vindication for those who spoke early, but vindication without accountability is incomplete. If perjury and the engineering of a pathogen that killed over a million Americans carry no real consequence, then the system has learned nothing. The same applies to the bigger picture. When disclosure of non-human intelligence reaches the point where even former skeptics in the media and politics are discussing it openly, will we have the frameworks to understand it, or will we be caught flat-footed by the spiritual and political implications we have refused to consider? My book exists to help with that preparation. It argues that these influences are real, that they have shaped human history in profound ways, and that the age of disclosure is also an age of decision about who we are and whose agenda we will ultimately serve.

I am an older man now, but I have lived a life that kept me engaged with both the practical and the profound—from aerospace program management and the discipline of precision work, to writing books like Tail of the Dragon, The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, and The Symposium of Justice, to my podcasting and activism on behalf of limited government, traditional values, and individual responsibility. The cowboy hat I have worn since childhood is a declaration that I stand apart from the herd. The whip is my personal symbol of discipline, precision, preparedness, and the moral agency to impose order when chaos threatens. But above all, it is the commitment to big-picture thinking that has defined my path. I criticize the regimented life not because I disdain structure, but because too many people never lift their eyes from the trees to see the forest or the forces moving through it.

Six or seven years from now, when the podcasts, news segments, and public conversations are filled with talk of non-human intelligence and its historical role, remember that some of us were saying it when it was still costly to do so. Not for credit, but because the truth matters and because being outside the box allows you to see what is coming before it arrives. The COVID chapter proved that. The disclosure chapter will prove it again. The politics of heaven are the ultimate big picture, and understanding them is the only way to navigate what lies ahead without being steered by forces we refuse to name.

The truth always comes out. It came out on the origins of COVID after six years of resistance. It is coming out on UAP and the deeper history of influence. It will come out on accountability or the lack of it. I hope that when it does, enough people will have stepped outside the box to see it clearly, to demand what is right, and to prepare for the fuller reality of our place in a universe that has never been as empty or as human-centered as the inside-the-box narrative claimed.

Footnotes

[^1]: Tulsi Gabbard’s resignation as Director of National Intelligence was announced on May 22, 2026, effective June 30, 2026, citing her husband’s health; see reports from BBC, CNBC, and the New York Times (May 2026).

[^2]: On gain-of-function research, EcoHealth Alliance, Wuhan Institute of Virology, and Fauci testimony controversies, see RFK Jr., The Real Anthony Fauci (2021) and subsequent congressional reviews and intelligence assessments on COVID origins (2023-2026).

[^3]: Amy Acton served as Ohio Department of Health Director under Gov. Mike DeWine, issued stay-at-home orders in March 2020, and resigned in June 2020 amid criticism; see contemporary reporting from the Columbus Dispatch, WOSU, and the Ohio Capital Journal.

[^4]: Gov. Mike DeWine announced June 16, 2026, that Ohio should abolish the death penalty, reversing long-held support; see Associated Press, Ohio Capital Journal, and New York Times coverage (June 2026).

[^5]: U.S. COVID-19 deaths exceeded 1.1 million; economic impact studies project trillions in GDP losses from the pandemic and policy responses. See CDC data summaries and analyses, such as Walmsley et al. (2020) in the Journal of Urban Economics and Chen et al.’s economic burden projections.

[^6]: Average annual cost of incarceration in U.S. state prisons is around $ 60,000 per inmate (median figures from USAFacts and state reports); federal prisons are around $41,000 per inmate (FY2023 Federal Register). Life sentences for serious crimes impose an ongoing taxpayer burden of tens of thousands of dollars per individual per year.

[^7]: Book of Enoch (1 Enoch), particularly the Book of the Watchers (chs. 1-36), describes the descent of the Watchers, their instruction of humanity in forbidden arts, and the birth of the violent Nephilim giants. See translations by R.H. Charles (1917) and modern editions; scholarly discussion in The Torah.com and related ancient Near Eastern studies.

[^8]: UAP disclosure developments include 2017-2023 Pentagon video releases, the 2021 ODNI Preliminary Assessment, the 2023 congressional hearings with David Grusch’s testimony, and the 2026 releases under the PURSUE system (Department of War/ODNI tranches announced May-June 2026).

[^9]: Ancient historical patterns of divine kingship and oracular influence in Egypt (pharaoh as god-king), Canaanite pantheon (Ugaritic texts, Baal Cycle), and biblical accounts (Genesis 6, Numbers 13, Deuteronomy on Canaanite practices). See Biblical Archaeology Review archives and standard references such as The Oxford History of the Ancient Near East.

[^10]: Broader context on spiritual warfare, giants, and population themes in biblical and extra-biblical literature; see also the author’s forthcoming The Politics of Heaven (target 2027) for an integrated treatment that connects ancient influences to modern geopolitical and technological developments.

Bibliography for Further Reading

•  Charles, R.H., trans. The Book of Enoch. London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 1917 (and subsequent reprints).

•  Elizondo, Luis. Imminent: Inside the Pentagon’s Hunt for UAP. New York: William Morrow, 2024.

•  Hoffman, Rich. Tail of the Dragon. (Author’s earlier work on personal and philosophical themes).

•  Hoffman, Rich. The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business. (On resilience, problem-solving, and imposing will on circumstances).

•  Hoffman, Rich. The Symposium of Justice. (Philosophical and justice themes).

•  Hoffman, Rich. The Politics of Heaven. (Forthcoming 2027; manuscript completed 2026, exploring biblical conspiracies, giants, demons, spiritual warfare, and population agendas across history).

•  Kennedy, Robert F., Jr. The Real Anthony Fauci: Bill Gates, Big Pharma, and the Global War on Democracy and Public Health. New York: Skyhorse, 2021.

•  Biblical Archaeology Review. Multiple issues on ancient Near Eastern religion, giants/Nephilim debates, and archaeological context for biblical texts (ongoing since 1975).

•  Office of the Director of National Intelligence. Preliminary Assessment: Unidentified Aerial Phenomena. June 2021 and subsequent UAP reports.

•  Various 2023-2026 congressional hearings and whistleblower testimony on UAP (Grusch et al.).

•  Academic and government analyses of COVID-19 economic impacts: Walmsley, Terrie et al. “The Impacts of the Coronavirus on the Economy of the United States” (2020); Chen, Simiao et al. economic burden studies (2021); CDC COVID Data Tracker summaries.

•  USAFacts and Bureau of Justice Statistics reports on incarceration costs and prison populations (2023-2025 data).

•  Ancient primary sources: Ugaritic Baal Cycle texts; Egyptian royal inscriptions and Pyramid Texts; biblical texts (Genesis 6, Enoch references in Jude and 2 Peter).

•  Additional context on Canaanite religion and its influence: Day, John. Yahweh and the Gods and Goddesses of Canaan. Sheffield Academic Press, 2000 (and related scholarship).

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 author, political consultant, and strategic advisor based in Cincinnati, Ohio, and the creator of The Politics of Heaven—a unique framework that connects biblical theology, ancient history, and modern power structures to explain how moral alignment and spiritual forces shape global events. Blending real-world political experience with deep research into archaeology, UFO phenomena, and suppressed historical narratives, Hoffman offers compelling commentary on topics ranging from ancient civilizations and the Dead Sea Scrolls to modern populist movements, paranormal continuity, and leadership strategy in chaotic environments. As the author of The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business and the forthcoming Politics of Heaven, he brings a grounded yet provocative voice to media discussions, supported by firsthand experiences and a cross-disciplinary approach that bridges science, history, and theology. For interviews, speaking engagements, or expert analysis, visit richhoffmanbooks.com or contact directly via phone at 513-307-5815 or email at rhoffman@richhoffmanbooks.com.  If you’ve seen the movie, Disclosure Day and want to talk about it and the implications of Presidnet Trump’s UAP disclosures, let me know and we can bring some color to your coverage. https://richhoffmanbooks.com/media-inquiries-broadcast-topics-and-contact-info/?frame-nonce=ad51e7ecba I do have a firsthand UFO encounter to discuss.

The Very Political De-Population Agenda: Pride Month, Personal Convictions, and the Defense of Masculinity in a Trump White House

In June 2026, with President Trump back in the White House, it’s refreshing not to see the rainbow colors and Pride flags draped over the executive mansion or broadcast as some official national celebration of the agenda, the motorcycle jumps and MMA event were much better. No more lighting up the people’s houses in celebration of what many of us view as a direct challenge to traditional family, biblical truth, and human flourishing. I’ve watched this cultural shift for decades, and the change feels like a return to sanity.¹

I’ve heard the arguments, and I know some people in my circles find them compelling. But from my perspective, rooted in personal experience, Christian conviction, and years of cultural observation, the modern gay agenda—particularly as pushed during Pride Month—is deeply political, anti-family, and part of a broader effort that undermines natural order. It’s not just about private behavior between consenting adults. It’s about reshaping society, lowering birth rates, confusing young people about masculinity and femininity, and desecrating symbols that once pointed to God’s covenant.²

Let me start with my own background because it gives me a front-row perspective that many commentators lack. I’m known for my bullwhips. The whip is a symbol of discipline, precision, self-mastery, and performance for me—cracking targets, snuffing candles, doing tricks that entertain and demonstrate skill. I’m good at it; some say I’m among the best. People have associated whips with bondage and fetish scenes for a long time, but that was never my world. I’ve never participated in anything like that and never would.³

Over the years in the performance community, I’ve known many whip artists who started straight and were as skilled in similar ways. Some got pulled into the gay bar scene or private fetish gigs because the money was good. Cracking whips on stage for entertainment turned into private sessions where clients wanted more—candles in uncomfortable places, explicit videos, crossing lines that should never be crossed. What starts as “just a gig” often leads to deeper involvement. I’ve seen friends swap spit, experiment, and eventually advocate openly for Pride Month. They’d post statements beginning with “I’m not very political,” but supporting the agenda is inherently political. It aligns with Democrat platforms, big government social engineering, and cultural Marxism. When I became vocal in the Tea Party and then MAGA, many distanced themselves. Conservatism and that lifestyle don’t mix well in their circles.⁴

I remember sitting in catering tents with Hollywood types during events. They’d chat until politics came up. “You’re from Cincinnati? You supported McCain? Romney? Reagan?” Suddenly, the seats emptied. Blocklisting happens fast when you don’t swing their way. I’ve faced it head-on and don’t regret it. My platform grew because I refused to hide convictions. The same people who once performed circus tricks now defend grotesque elements of the scene for revenue and relevance. It’s disheartening.⁵

The rainbow itself is a perfect example of desecration. In Genesis 9, after the flood, God sets the rainbow in the sky as a sign of His covenant with Noah and all living creatures—never again to destroy the earth with waters. It’s a reminder of mercy, judgment, and promise. The gay community co-opted it, starting with Gilbert Baker’s 1978 rainbow flag. What was once a biblical symbol of hope after catastrophe became a banner for a movement the Bible explicitly condemns. Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13 call male same-sex relations an abomination. Romans 1:26-27 describes the exchange of natural relations for unnatural ones as part of turning from God. These aren’t obscure verses; they’re clear moral teaching.⁶

Pride Month in June turns that symbol into a celebration of what scripture warns against. Under previous administrations, the White House glowed in rainbow lights, equating the agenda with official policy. Now, in 2026, that’s gone, and it feels right. Families don’t need government endorsement of alternative lifestyles pushed on children through schools, media, and YouTube. The femboy trend, glam rock echoes like Boy George or 80s hair bands in tight pants, and modern Disney/Marvel plot lines normalize confusion. Young men are seduced away from traditional masculinity, leading to lower birth rates—an anti-human agenda that aligns with depopulation narratives from figures like Bill Gates or climate extremists. It’s abortion on steroids: prevent life before it begins by reorienting desire.⁷

I’ve seen the discomfort this causes in everyday life. At a Cincinnati football game with good seats, two women in front of me—clearly a couple—made out openly. Some of my grandkids were there. It was uncomfortable for everyone. I politely asked them to take it to the bathroom or clubhouse; kids didn’t need the show. The response was indignation, as if public decency were bigotry. Another time at Costco, someone confronted me about my cowboy hat: “How dare you wear that symbol of toxic masculinity in public?” I wear it proudly. It represents discipline, self-reliance, Western heritage, and unapologetic manhood. In Butler County, transplants from California or the East Coast bring their politics and sneer at it. Feelings are mutual. I love projecting masculinity because young people need models, not confusion from algorithms and activists.⁸

The bullwhip community crossover highlights the issue. Performance artists get lured by fetish demand. A few thousand dollars for a private show turns into more. Some thrive financially but lose their way. I’ve ended friendships over it. Zero tolerance. When they advocate Pride while claiming non-political stances, it rings hollow. The agenda extends to sports, the military, education, and entertainment. It’s not live-and-let-live; it’s affirmation or cancellation. Hollywood blacklists conservatives. Schools teach gender ideology as fact. YouTube serves as a pacifier for teens, flooding feeds with normalized content.⁹

Biblically, Sodom and Gomorrah stand as a warning. The mob demanded the angels for sexual purposes—gross perversion that led to judgment. Modern parallels exist in the push to confuse youth and erode family structures. Birth rates decline when masculinity is pathologized as “toxic” and femininity is detached from motherhood. It’s a net-zero scam for humans: fewer people, less consumption, more control. Democrats embrace it because it fragments society into identity groups dependent on government. Republicans under Trump reject the official celebration, focusing on borders, the economy, and sanity.¹⁰

My cowboy hat draws compliments too. At that same Costco recently, multiple people thanked me for the broadcasts and work. One levy supporter mocked the hat, implying shame. I’ll wear it more. It signals resistance to the seduction. Young men need examples of strength, not androgyny. Clint Eastwood, Arnold Schwarzenegger’s “girly men” critique—they understood. The Expendables films harkened back to tough-guy eras. Today’s culture mocks that.¹¹

Personal autonomy matters here too, tying into broader ownership themes. Just as people reject renting music or property, they resist renting their identity to cultural fads. I own my convictions. The whip remains a tool of mastery, not perversion. Pride Month pushes the opposite—celebrating what weakens resolve and family. I’ve lost friends but gained clarity. The lifestyle isn’t victimless. Confusion spreads, especially online. Future generations deserve better.¹²

I don’t want to hear the complaints about Trump’s UFC fight.  Trump’s White House without rainbow flags represents a cultural reset. No more equating Pride with patriotism. The agenda remains political: funding, education policy, corporate DEI. Ohio and places like Butler County see transplants bringing it in, but local values hold. At Kings Island or other amusement parks, public displays can be jarring—unattractive couples making out, demanding acceptance. It’s not about hate; it’s about boundaries. Kids present, decency expected. Porn filmmakers taking dates to Bengal football games? Gross.¹³

Society functions better with clear moral guardrails. The Bible condemns for good reason—protecting flourishing. I’ve paid costs for speaking out but stand firm. Friends who crossed the line made six figures but compromised their souls. Not worth it. Masculinity—protective, decisive, strong—isn’t toxic; it’s essential. The hat stays. Whips crack targets, not fetishes. Rainbows remind us of God’s promise, not parades.¹⁴

This June, without White House endorsement, feels like progress. The dance continues, but not to their tune. Families, faith, and ordered liberty prevail. Young people need truth, not seduction. I’ll keep saying it, hat on, whip ready for honest performance. Politics of Heaven reminds us that spiritual warfare underlies it all. Truth uncoils against deception. Ohio and America benefit when we reject the agenda’s full embrace.¹⁵

Footnotes

¹ Trump administration 2026 policy shift away from Pride displays at White House.

² Personal observations on the agenda as political.

³ Bullwhip as a performance tool, not BDSM.

⁴ Experiences in whip community crossovers.

⁵ Hollywood blacklisting for conservatism.

⁶ Genesis 9 rainbow covenant; Leviticus/Romans references.

⁷ Depopulation and cultural normalization critiques.

⁸ Costco hat incident and football game anecdote.

⁹ Media and education influence on youth.

¹⁰ Sodom parallels and family impacts.

¹¹ Cultural icons of masculinity.

¹² Ties to ownership and autonomy themes.

¹³ Public discomfort examples.

¹⁴ Biblical moral framework.

¹⁵ Broader spiritual and political conclusions. 

Bibliography

•  Genesis 9 (Noahic Covenant and rainbow).

•  Leviticus 18:22, 20:13; Romans 1:26-27 (biblical texts).

•  Gilbert Baker rainbow flag history (1978).

•  Rich Hoffman’s personal writings and broadcasts.

•  Reports on Trump White House 2026 symbolism.

•  Cultural analyses of Pride Month and depopulation narratives.

•  Ohio transplant politics and Butler County observations.

•  Whip performance history vs. fetish associations.

•  Additional sources: Christianity.com on rainbow meaning, RIAA/ entertainment trends (tangential), The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business.

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 author, political consultant, and strategic advisor based in Cincinnati, Ohio, and the creator of The Politics of Heaven—a unique framework that connects biblical theology, ancient history, and modern power structures to explain how moral alignment and spiritual forces shape global events. Blending real-world political experience with deep research into archaeology, UFO phenomena, and suppressed historical narratives, Hoffman offers compelling commentary on topics ranging from ancient civilizations and the Dead Sea Scrolls to modern populist movements, paranormal continuity, and leadership strategy in chaotic environments. As the author of The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business and the forthcoming Politics of Heaven, he brings a grounded yet provocative voice to media discussions, supported by firsthand experiences and a cross-disciplinary approach that bridges science, history, and theology. For interviews, speaking engagements, or expert analysis, visit richhoffmanbooks.com or contact directly via phone at 513-307-5815 or email at rhoffman@richhoffmanbooks.com.  If you’ve seen the movie, Disclosure Day and want to talk about it and the implications of Presidnet Trump’s UAP disclosures, let me know and we can bring some color to your coverage. https://richhoffmanbooks.com/media-inquiries-broadcast-topics-and-contact-info/?frame-nonce=ad51e7ecba I do have a firsthand UFO encounter to discuss.

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

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 author, political consultant, and strategic advisor based in Cincinnati, Ohio, and the creator of The Politics of Heaven—a unique framework that connects biblical theology, ancient history, and modern power structures to explain how moral alignment and spiritual forces shape global events. Blending real-world political experience with deep research into archaeology, UFO phenomena, and suppressed historical narratives, Hoffman offers compelling commentary on topics ranging from ancient civilizations and the Dead Sea Scrolls to modern populist movements, paranormal continuity, and leadership strategy in chaotic environments. As the author of The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business and the forthcoming Politics of Heaven, he brings a grounded yet provocative voice to media discussions, supported by firsthand experiences and a cross-disciplinary approach that bridges science, history, and theology. For interviews, speaking engagements, or expert analysis, visit richhoffmanbooks.com or contact directly via phone at 513-307-5815 or email at rhoffman@richhoffmanbooks.com.  If you’ve seen the movie, Disclosure Day and want to talk about it and the implications of Presidnet Trump’s UAP disclosures, let me know and we can bring some color to your coverage. https://richhoffmanbooks.com/media-inquiries-broadcast-topics-and-contact-info/?frame-nonce=ad51e7ecba I do have a firsthand UFO encounter to discuss.

The Treasure of Ownership: Personal Music, Vinyl Resurgence, and the Human Hunger for Things That Are Truly Ours

A few years ago, the World Economic Forum floated this vision of the future captured in the phrase “you’ll own nothing and be happy.”¹ It sounded like one of those slick marketing pitches that ignores human nature entirely. People don’t like it. They push back in quiet, stubborn ways that reveal something deep about who we are as human beings wired for possession, autonomy, and legacy. I saw it clearly the other day when I was taking someone in their twenties to lunch in my car. They glanced at the dashboard and asked what that strange slot was. It was the CD player. My car isn’t ancient—I tend to drive vehicles for a decade or more—and yet to this young person, it was an artifact from another era.²

I explained that compact discs were once revolutionary. Developed through a collaboration between Philips and Sony starting in the late 1970s, with key demonstrations in 1979 and a commercial launch in 1982, CDs promised perfect digital sound without the pops, scratches, or degradation of vinyl records or the hiss of cassettes.³ By the late 1980s and throughout the 1990s, they dominated the market. I remember the excitement vividly. You could pop one in, skip tracks instantly, and take your music anywhere without worrying about needles or tape wear. I had built plenty of playlists on cassettes by recording songs off vinyl albums in the order I wanted, but CDs made sequencing seamless. You owned it outright. You could drive down the road at highway speeds—through Ohio’s potholes, storms, or whatever the Great Miami River valley threw at you—and the music played reliably. No internet required. No monthly subscription draining your account. No dependency on someone else’s servers.⁴

That young person couldn’t wrap their mind around it. Subscription services like Apple Music and Spotify have shaped their entire adult life. They rent access to a vast library that lives on someone else’s servers. Lose the subscription, the connection, or the company’s goodwill, and it vanishes. I told them that Walmart still carries CDs, though in smaller sections now, and that Cracker Barrel gift shops across the country have racks of vinyl albums selling briskly. People are buying physical music again. They want to own it—put it on the shelf, hold it in their hands, play it whenever they want without begging permission from a corporation. My grandkids notice the library of CDs on our entertainment center. They see the difference between something solid and tangible versus rented pixels in the cloud.⁵

The vinyl resurgence is one of the most astonishing cultural shifts I’ve witnessed. I grew up with LPs. They seemed archaic once CDs arrived with their superior convenience and durability for travel, but now younger generations are embracing records again. According to the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA), vinyl has grown for 19 consecutive years. In 2025, U.S. vinyl sales surpassed $1 billion for the first time in decades, selling about 46.8 million units and generating nearly three times the revenue of CDs (which sold around 29.5 million units).⁶ Artists like Taylor Swift have driven special editions, but the trend runs deeper. Gen Z and millennials seek that tactile connection in a digital world. I’ve seen it at Target, Walmart, and Cracker Barrel during RV stops. People are hungry for ownership.⁷

This isn’t mere nostalgia. It’s a rejection of the rental economy pushed by globalist visions. The WEF’s 2016 essay by Ida Auken envisioned a 2030 where everything—housing, transportation, entertainment—is rented as a service, delivered conveniently, with no personal clutter of ownership.⁸ Critics rightly called it an attack on human dignity. We are not wired to be perpetual renters. We want our own refrigerator stocked with food we chose, our own yard to tend, our own spouse and children to raise as ours, our own books on the shelf that we can touch and mark. In my family, that physical library of CDs represents more than music—it represents independence.⁹

I remember the full arc of these formats. Vinyl offered warmth and ritual—the act of placing the needle, flipping sides, experiencing the album as intended. But it had drawbacks: bulk, susceptibility to warping, scratches, and the need for careful handling. Cassettes enabled homemade mixtapes and portability in cars, but their quality degraded. CDs felt like liberation when they emerged. Philips and Sony standardized the 12 cm disc to fit Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony entirely, about 74 minutes. The technology used laser reading for error correction, making it robust for travel. You could carry dozens in a slim case. I loved loading them into the car player and having on-demand music without internet or subscriptions.¹⁰

Then the market shifted dramatically. Streaming services offered convenience and unlimited access, but at the cost of true ownership. Apple Music has an enormous catalog—I appreciate the discovery aspect—but I despise the model. You pay monthly forever. Stop paying, and your library disappears. The same happened with movies. Remember rushing to buy the new release on DVD or Blu-ray and building a collection? Now it’s Netflix, HBO Max, or whichever service holds rights that month. Physical sales plummeted as streaming cannibalized them. Yet when content rotates off platforms, demand for ownership spikes again.¹¹

The push toward renting everything ties into deeper political desires for control. Centralized powers—global forums, big tech, financial interests—prefer recurring revenue and dependency. If you own it, you have sovereignty. If you rent, they can change terms, censor content, raise prices, or cut you off. This mirrors broader patterns I’ve seen in politics, aerospace, and culture. In The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, I discuss self-reliance and imposing your will on circumstances rather than leasing your life from others.¹² The same principle applies here. Look at the excitement around SpaceX’s IPO. People want to own a piece of something real, not just subscribe to access.¹³

During RV travels with my wife across the country—to the Space Coast, Gettysburg, or anywhere the road takes us—I’m reminded why ownership matters. There’s nothing like having your own bed, your own refrigerator with cold drinks and snacks, your own clean bathroom instead of relying on gas station facilities. You rent the campsite, but your stuff is yours. It provides a sense of autonomy even while moving. The same goes for books. I own physical copies. I like touching them, flipping pages, keeping them in my personal library. Downloading or using Audible has its convenience, but it lacks permanence. I’m not a fan of leasing intellectual or cultural space.¹⁴

Power outages here in Ohio—whether from big storms rolling up from the Gulf, tornadoes, or winter events—highlight another advantage. With a generator, you could still play a DVD, Blu-ray, or CD. Streaming dies without connectivity. Personal libraries provide resilience. Vinyl’s comeback, despite being larger and more fragile than CDs, shows the depth of this desire. Records take up space, can warp or scratch, and require more care, yet people buy them enthusiastically.¹⁵

The speed of change amazes me. My car still has a working CD player, yet new vehicles rarely include them. Manufacturers followed the connectivity and subscription trend. But the backlash is real. Who still makes CDs? Companies like Disc Makers and Bison Disc continue short-run and replication services for artists and collectors. Demand persists for reissues, independent releases, and audiophile formats. Given vinyl’s proof of concept, a modest CD revival is plausible—especially for durability, portability, and offline use. Collectors value the format’s sound quality and convenience over vinyl’s ritual.¹⁶

This hunger extends beyond music to the core of human nature. Americans especially cherish property rights. We want our homes, cars, guns, private spaces, and cultural artifacts that reflect our identity. Progressive globalist ideas of shared everything clash with that reality. Socialism’s communal experiments fail because they ignore our drive to build legacies. Music is deeply personal. The songs that shaped your youth, the albums discovered on your own—they become part of you. Renting them feels like renting your memories.¹⁷

I explained all this to that young person over lunch. They had recently bought a vinyl album at Target and were intrigued by the concept of true ownership. CDs seemed novel again. It’s not about rejecting technology—streaming has its place for discovery and variety. But the default shouldn’t be perpetual rental. Ownership provides resilience, no algorithmic control over your playlist, and the satisfaction of pointing to a shelf and saying, “That’s mine.” During family trips, we play our own music without signal drops or interruptions from navigation or texts.¹⁸

The WEF vision assumes adaptation to renting. Evidence suggests otherwise. Vinyl’s 19-year growth streak, physical media’s persistence, and resistance to woke content in Hollywood all signal a market shift. Big tech and entertainment pushed subscription models and certain narratives, alienating audiences. People retreat to what they can control.¹⁹

In my own life, this philosophy runs deep—from early experiences in Cincinnati to aerospace program management. Consultants and rented expertise come and go, but teams that own the mission endure—the same with culture. We want music, books, and stories that belong to us. In The Politics of Heaven, I explore these threads of spiritual, cultural, and economic sovereignty. Ownership isn’t greed; it’s dignity and agency.²⁰

There’s room for balance. Physical formats like vinyl and CDs offer tangible connection. Digital provides access. But forcing everything into rental models driven by political control rather than pure market demand has backfired. The serpent of ownership uncoils in the face of forced renting. People choose it every time they buy a record, a CD, a book, or build their own space. That’s the real future—not a 2030 rented utopia, but timeless human nature asserting itself.

I still pop in a CD when I drive. It works perfectly. And it’s mine. That feeling matters more than any subscription pitch. As I dictate this overlooking the Great Miami River or from the RV, I’m reminded how personal autonomy anchors everything. The market is speaking loudly. Vinyl proves it. CDs could follow. And humans will keep choosing what they can truly call their own—making tomorrow a better day through ownership, not rental.²¹

Footnotes

¹ World Economic Forum / Ida Auken essay “Welcome to 2030” (2016).

² Personal observation from recent interaction.

³ Philips/Sony CD development history, 1979–1982 standardization.

⁴ CD advantages for portability and reliability.

⁵ Retail observations at Walmart, Cracker Barrel, and Target.

⁶ RIAA 2025 Year-End Report: Vinyl $1B+, 46.8M units vs. CDs 29.5M.

⁷ Gen Z/millennial trends in tactile media.

⁸ WEF ownership predictions and criticism.

⁹ Family library of CDs.

¹⁰ Technical history of CD format.

¹¹ Streaming impact on physical media sales.

¹² The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business Principles.

¹³ SpaceX IPO and ownership desire.

¹⁴ RV travel and book ownership reflections.

¹⁵ Vinyl drawbacks vs. appeal.

¹⁶ Current CD manufacturing (Disc Makers, etc.) and revival potential.

¹⁷ Human nature and property rights.

¹⁸ Conversation with a young person.

¹⁹ Cultural and market backlash.

²⁰ Ties to The Politics of Heaven.

²¹ Closing personal philosophy.

Bibliography

•  Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA). 2025 Year-End Recorded Music Revenue Report.

•  World Economic Forum. Ida Auken, “Welcome to 2030” (2016).

•  Philips/Sony historical documentation on CD development.

•  Rich Hoffman, The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business and The Politics of Heaven.

•  Industry reports on physical media trends (Disc Makers, retail observations).

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 author, political consultant, and strategic advisor based in Cincinnati, Ohio, and the creator of The Politics of Heaven—a unique framework that connects biblical theology, ancient history, and modern power structures to explain how moral alignment and spiritual forces shape global events. Blending real-world political experience with deep research into archaeology, UFO phenomena, and suppressed historical narratives, Hoffman offers compelling commentary on topics ranging from ancient civilizations and the Dead Sea Scrolls to modern populist movements, paranormal continuity, and leadership strategy in chaotic environments. As the author of The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business and the forthcoming Politics of Heaven, he brings a grounded yet provocative voice to media discussions, supported by firsthand experiences and a cross-disciplinary approach that bridges science, history, and theology. For interviews, speaking engagements, or expert analysis, visit richhoffmanbooks.com or contact directly via phone at 513-307-5815 or email at rhoffman@richhoffmanbooks.com.  If you’ve seen the movie, Disclosure Day and want to talk about it and the implications of Presidnet Trump’s UAP disclosures, let me know and we can bring some color to your coverage. https://richhoffmanbooks.com/media-inquiries-broadcast-topics-and-contact-info/?frame-nonce=ad51e7ecba I do have a firsthand UFO encounter to discuss.

Some of my Jaw Dropping Statements about History: Serpent Mound, Ancient Mysteries, Disclosure, and the Politics of Heaven

I was really impressed with a recent piece by Donna D’Errico. She produces YouTube videos as part of the Myth Bound series, and I completely understand her approach. In an era when everyone can have their own media platform, people like Donna are stepping up to explore Earth’s mysteries afresh. She’s doing a kind of modern Josh Gates-style investigation—traveling to sites, talking to experts, and digging into legends with genuine curiosity. Her episode on Serpent Mound struck me as particularly strong. 

Before I dive deeper, I have to acknowledge that this discussion probably won’t win me many friends—especially as my book The Politics of Heaven nears publication during a time when Spielberg’s Disclosure Day and waves of official UAP releases are forcing people to reconsider long-dismissed ideas. My reference point here is one of deep respect for the field: I love archaeologists. I admire the dedication it takes to spend years in the dirt, uncovering artifacts so the rest of us can wrestle with their meaning. But like any institutional endeavor, grooves form. Assumptions harden into orthodoxy. Human nature resists relearning, especially when funding, careers, and political narratives are at stake. Once a framework is set, new evidence is often shoehorned to fit rather than allowed to challenge the foundation.

Serpent Mound, in Adams County, Ohio, is far more mysterious than mainstream accounts typically allow. The default narrative attributes it to “Indigenous people,” specifically linking it to the Adena (circa 800 BC–AD 100) or Fort Ancient (AD 1000–1650) cultures, which then folds neatly into broader political claims about “stolen land.” This framing, I believe, serves agendas that seek to undermine America’s founding legitimacy in favor of collectivist remaking—an echo of old European resentments toward the prosperous republic born from the Louisiana Purchase, Florida acquisition, and western expansion. 

Donna’s episode respectfully features archaeologists discussing the site’s astronomical alignments, particularly its alignment with the summer solstice sunset, which was important to Fort Ancient peoples. She highlights how the mound feels profoundly three-dimensional on the ground—coiling serpent body undulating with the terrain—unlike the flattened maps most people see. That experiential quality is key. The site was meant to be walked, felt, and understood in context. 

Serpent Mound itself is the largest known serpent effigy in the world, stretching approximately 1,348 feet in an uncoiling form with a curled tail. It sits atop a plateau within the Serpent Mound crater (also called the Serpent Mound Disturbance), an eroded meteorite impact structure roughly 8 km (5 miles) in diameter (estimates up to 14 km), formed less than 320 million years ago (likely around 300 million years ago).  The builders chose this precise location on the rim of an ancient scar invisible to casual observation. Radiocarbon dating has shifted: earlier assumptions pointed to Adena; a 1991 study suggested Fort Ancient around AD 900–1200; and a 2014 analysis (later corroborated) supports Adena construction around 300 BC, with rebuilding in the Fort Ancient period. Multiple layers of use are evident. 

Why build the world’s largest serpent effigy on the edge of a 300-million-year-old impact crater with sophisticated celestial alignments? The mathematics encoded here—solstice and equinox orientations—suggest knowledge far beyond simple hunting calendars.  I’ve visited the site for decades, often reflecting on these questions while overlooking the Brush Creek Valley. It is one of three key locations I explore in The Politics of Heaven as evidence of non-human technological and spiritual interaction.

The second is Windover in central Florida, near the modern Kennedy Space Center. This ~8,000-year-old Middle Archaic cemetery (roughly 7,000–8,000 years BP) yielded 168 burials in a peat pond, many with remarkably preserved brain tissue, woven textiles of advanced complexity (multiple weaves, including non-heddle loom examples), and deliberate ritual orientation (often flexed, on left side facing west, anchored with stakes).  At the time, sea levels were far lower; the coastline extended miles farther out. Submerged sites likely await discovery. These people practiced sophisticated mortuary rites predating biblical timelines by millennia, challenging simplistic post-Ice Age migration models from Beringia. Their genetics and practices don’t align neatly with those of later tribal groups, opening the door to deeper questions about origins and external influence.

The third is Flag Fen in England, masterfully excavated by Francis Pryor. This Bronze Age site (around 1000 BC, contemporaneous with the First Temple period) features complex timber platforms, votive weapon offerings in wetlands, and evidence of sophisticated beliefs about the afterlife. Pryor’s work—detailed in books like Flag Fen: Life and Death of a Prehistoric Landscape—reveals a ritual landscape of remarkable engineering. 

These sites, alongside markers such as the London Stone, Paris’s origin stone, and Washington, D.C.’s Masonic layout, suggest coordinated knowledge across continents and eras. Native American legends—Iroquois, Shawnee, and Aztec migrations from the north (echoed at Three Rivers Petroglyphs in New Mexico)—feature descending “gods,” giants, and supernatural beings that are remarkably consistent with global mythologies. The uniformity points to real encounters rather than independent invention.

Near my home in the Great Miami River valley (Liberty Township / Middletown area, Ohio), the Middletown Mound and Miamisburg Mound stand as testaments. Miamisburg is one of the largest conical mounds in eastern North America—65 feet high, 800 feet in circumference, built by Adena peoples in stages, containing vast amounts of earth and visible for miles.  My daughter has taken a great interest in the Middletown site. These should be premier attractions, yet NAGPRA and institutional caution limit new excavations. Cultures routinely built atop older complexes—Cahokia, Baalbek, Jerusalem, Christian churches over pagan temples. Why assume otherwise here?

Archaeologists I respect operate under real constraints. Funding flows through institutions influenced by political and financial interests historically at odds with figures like Andrew Jackson. The “Mound Builder” myth was once weaponized for removal policies (Indian Removal Act, 1830), but today continuity narratives sometimes sideline anomalous evidence. I want these professionals to be better funded for open inquiry.

Post-disclosure, the picture sharpens. UAP whistleblower testimony on non-human biologics and reverse-engineering (with local ties to Wright-Patterson) makes ancient interaction plausible. Disclosure Day shifts the Overton window.

This leads to time—interdimensional or ultra-terrestrial beings likely master relativity. Time dilation is a physics fact. Travelers could experience days while centuries pass on Earth. Sites like Serpent Mound may serve as temporal anchors—celestial markers to recalibrate “when” upon return. Mythic “gods” gifting knowledge then vanishing aligns with this. Cryptids fit as echoes.

I’ve visited these regions and studied the works extensively. These inform The Politics of Heaven, my exploration of spiritual warfare, giants/Nephilim, divine rebellion, and humanity’s interactions. Nineteen of twenty-one chapters tackle controversial ground because they prioritize evidence over control narratives.

Donna D’Errico embodies the right spirit. Archaeologists deserve support for deeper digs. The great serpent on its ancient crater is no random effigy. It testifies to encounters with star-faring knowledge-bearers.

We stand at the threshold of new understanding. The dance continues. The serpent watches. Truth uncoils into the light.

Footnotes

¹ Donna D’Errico, Myth Bound YouTube series (episodes on Serpent Mound and related mysteries). 

² Ohio History Connection, Serpent Mound official site details and history. 

³ Wikipedia / scientific sources on Serpent Mound crater: ~8 km diameter, <320 million years old (est. ~300 Ma). 

⁴ Radiocarbon dating summaries: 2014 Adena ~300 BC with Fort Ancient repairs. 

⁵ Astronomical alignments (solstices/equinoxes). 

⁶ Windover site reports: ~8,000 BP burials, textiles, rituals (Glen Doran et al.). 

⁷ Francis Pryor, Flag Fen: Life and Death of a Prehistoric Landscape (2005). 

⁸ Miamisburg Mound: Ohio History Connection / National Register details. 

⁹ Broader context: Graham Hancock, Ross Hamilton (Serpent Mound), UAP disclosures, and Pryor’s Time Team work

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 author, political consultant, and strategic advisor based in Cincinnati, Ohio, and the creator of The Politics of Heaven—a unique framework that connects biblical theology, ancient history, and modern power structures to explain how moral alignment and spiritual forces shape global events. Blending real-world political experience with deep research into archaeology, UFO phenomena, and suppressed historical narratives, Hoffman offers compelling commentary on topics ranging from ancient civilizations and the Dead Sea Scrolls to modern populist movements, paranormal continuity, and leadership strategy in chaotic environments. As the author of The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business and the forthcoming Politics of Heaven, he brings a grounded yet provocative voice to media discussions, supported by firsthand experiences and a cross-disciplinary approach that bridges science, history, and theology. For interviews, speaking engagements, or expert analysis, visit richhoffmanbooks.com or contact directly via phone at 513-307-5815 or email at rhoffman@richhoffmanbooks.com.  If you’ve seen the movie, Disclosure Day and want to talk about it and the implications of Presidnet Trump’s UAP disclosures, let me know and we can bring some color to your coverage. https://richhoffmanbooks.com/media-inquiries-broadcast-topics-and-contact-info/?frame-nonce=ad51e7ecba I do have a firsthand UFO encounter to discuss.

My UFO Encounter: A Personal Dare, a Local Sighting, and the Inspiration for The Politics of Heaven

I have always lived with one foot in the ordinary world of aerospace program management, local Ohio politics, family life along the Great Miami River in Butler County, and the other in the deeper currents of history, archaeology, and the unexplained. Growing up in the Cincinnati area, my family in the 1970s was already investigating strange lights in the sky and odd occurrences that didn’t fit neatly into everyday explanations. Those early experiences planted seeds that would later bloom into serious inquiry. I have never claimed to have been abducted or to have lived through anything as dramatic as the portrayal of Travis Walton’s ordeal in Fire in the Sky. My encounters have been subtler, more provocative, and in one memorable case, downright infuriating in their precision and timing. 

One such encounter stands out, not just because of what I saw firsthand in earlier instances, but also because of how it unfolded in response to something I said publicly. A couple of years ago, amid ongoing discussions about government transparency, surveillance, and the lingering shadows of the COVID era, I recorded a video. In it, I dared whatever forces—whether extraterrestrial, interdimensional, or black-budget human technology—might be listening to show themselves right there in my backyard of Butler County, Ohio. I pointed to a specific spot in the sky near Middletown. I wasn’t expecting fireworks or a close encounter of the third kind. I was making a point about power, information, and the dangers of hidden knowledge wielded by institutions that demand trust while offering none in return. 

A few days later, a ring of bright green lights appeared in the night sky in that vicinity. Multiple residents captured video around 10:30 or 11 p.m. The lights rotated, hovered, then shot off with impossible speed. People stopped at stoplights, pulled out their phones, and filmed what appeared to be a circular formation moving counterclockwise before it vanished. Reports flooded local news: WCPO, WLWT, and others covered the strange rotating green lights over Middletown in Butler County. Witnesses described it as unlike any drone or conventional aircraft. Some called it frightening; others were fascinated. I wasn’t on site that night, but the proximity and timing were unmistakable. 

This wasn’t my first brush with the phenomenon. I had witnessed other UFO activity years earlier, including one that left me genuinely angry at the audacity of it. But this particular event felt targeted. Given my political activity—my role as a vocal conservative voice in Butler County, my history with local issues like Lakota schools, tax fights, and broader America First advocacy—I have long assumed surveillance. Decades ago, in a previous neighborhood in Mason, Ohio, I confronted a drug ring operating too close to families. That brought FBI interviews and scrutiny that carried over for years. Local and federal eyes have been on me, my family, and my work. When you dare powers—visible or invisible—to reveal themselves while criticizing government overreach, you invite responses. Whether this was a genuine non-human craft, advanced human technology (perhaps reverse-engineered or projected), or something meant to rattle me, it landed with precision. 

I took it as a message. Not the kind that turns you into Richard Dreyfuss piling dirt in the living room from Close Encounters of the Third Kind, but one that demands deeper reflection. I have visited Roswell. I have investigated the Mothman in Point Pleasant, West Virginia—right across the river from Ohio territory familiar to me. There, UFO sightings were rampant alongside the Mothman reports in the 1960s. John Keel’s The Mothman Prophecies (later a film with Richard Gere) details how lights in the sky, strange calls, and Men in Black phenomena intertwined with the creature sightings leading up to the Silver Bridge collapse. You cannot grapple with Mothman without confronting the UFO dimension. I went there for personal research, on a birthday trip no less, and came away convinced that these events form a pattern far older than modern disclosure narratives. 

Watching Steven Spielberg’s Disclosure Day recently brought it all into sharper focus. Spielberg, who has fielded countless UFO stories from the public over decades while making films like Close Encounters, treats the subject with a humanistic lens. The movie explores ordinary people pushing back against secrecy. I found it compelling, even if some critics dismissed elements. It reminded me of my own journey. Spielberg has no personal UFO encounter, by his account, yet he has shaped public imagination on the topic. I have had them, and they propelled me to write. 

My thoughts also turned to Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Many reviewers scoffed at the interdimensional beings, calling it the weakest entry. I saw sophistication in it. The film uses Indy to explore ancient alien influence on human civilization—archaeologists from another realm, imprints on societies, crystal skulls tied to Roswell-like events and portals. It gave popular culture the moral license to think seriously about these ideas. It opened doors for shows like Ancient Aliens. The Peruvian connections, snakes as symbols (echoing the Garden of Eden), and hidden-in-plain-sight craft at the end resonated. I dedicated a chapter in my book to serpentine imagery and interdimensional influences. 

Broader Context: UFOs in Ohio and Butler County

Ohio has a rich history of sightings. The 1952 “Flatwoods Monster” event in nearby West Virginia involved a bright object and a strange entity. In 1994, Trumbull County saw police-chased lights. Middletown itself has a history of reports, including cigar-shaped objects. The 2023 green lights fit a pattern of rotating formations and rapid departures defying conventional explanation. Some dismissed it as a prank or drone, but the speed and multiple witnesses suggest more. Butler County’s location—near Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, long rumored in UFO lore for reverse-engineering—adds intrigue. Reverse-engineering Roswell tech? Congressional testimony and retired officials hint at it. I know enough insiders to take such claims seriously. 

These aren’t new. Ancient texts, archaeology, and global myths describe sky beings, watchers, and technology influencing humanity. The Book of Enoch, Dead Sea Scrolls (which I viewed at the Museum of the Bible on my birthday), Nephilim, and giants speak to this. My book, The Politics of Heaven, dives into spiritual warfare, divine rebellion, population agendas, and the ways non-human intelligences have shaped history. Biblical conspiracies, demons, and interdimensional entities aren’t “crazy” when disclosure normalizes the conversation. Spielberg’s film and real events make mainstream what was once fringe. 

Government, Power, and the Politics of Disclosure

I have built my life around self-reliance, discipline (symbolized by my whip iconography from my family’s Kentucky heritage), and skepticism toward centralized power. The UFO debate often serves as a pretext for more government authority: “Trust us to protect you from them.” Yet the same institutions lied about COVID, mandates, elections, and more. Black budgets, compartmentalized programs at places like Wright-Patterson, and associations with supernatural tech-seeking make the government threat more immediate than hypothetical aliens. If entities have visited since civilization’s dawn, then history makes more sense—temples, sacrifices, and beliefs born of observed phenomena. 

My dare and the subsequent sighting felt like a ritual response. Call it out, and it appears. Whether it was a government projection (holographic or drone tech) to discredit me in political circles, actual craft, or something responding to frequency/intent, it happened. Proximity to my pointed location, in an area with patterns (Middletown, Monroe, West Chester), wasn’t a coincidence. It reinforced my view: information is power. Secrecy builds empires on lies. As a grand jury foreman, I saw institutional failures up close. Two-tier justice, surveillance of citizens like me—these are real. 

I don’t fear aliens landing and applying for jobs (though I joked I’d hire hard workers who crossed interstellar distances). The real danger is unaccountable power using the phenomenon for control. My political consulting, school advocacy, and anti-tax work matter. Associating with “fringe” topics risks credibility, yet truth-seeking demands it. Overman philosophy—imposing will on chaos, as in model rocketry with my grandson in bad weather—applies here. Face the unknown with resilience.

Writing The Politics of Heaven

This encounter, revisited through Disclosure Day, crystallized my decision to finish the manuscript. I weave personal stories, including this one, with biblical archaeology, ancient civilizations (Axum, Britain BC, Windover bog people), giants, and modern spiritual warfare. Chapters explore how UFOs, interdimensional beings, and government secrecy intersect with heavenly politics. Reviewers call it wild, but grounded in my experiences and research. It answers questions Disclosure Day raises: What next? What does it mean for faith, power, and humanity? 

Bibliography (Selected; expanded in full manuscript with footnotes)

•  Keel, John A. The Mothman Prophecies. 1975. (Core text on Point Pleasant events, UFOs, and interconnected phenomena.)

•  Spielberg, Steven, dir. Disclosure Day. Universal Pictures, 2026. (Film exploring disclosure and government secrecy.)

•  Spielberg, Steven, dir. Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Paramount, 2008. (Interdimensional beings and ancient influences.)

•  Biblical Archaeology Review (various issues; lifelong reading source).

•  NUFORC and local news reports on Ohio/Middletown sightings (WCPO, WLWT, 2023).

•  Enoch, Book of (Dead Sea Scrolls context).

•  Additional sources: Clark, Jerome. UFO encyclopedias; reports on Wright-Patterson; ancient-astronaut theories grounded in archaeology (e.g., Peruvian sites, crystal-skulls lore); congressional UAP testimony. 

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 author, political consultant, and strategic advisor based in Cincinnati, Ohio, and the creator of The Politics of Heaven—a unique framework that connects biblical theology, ancient history, and modern power structures to explain how moral alignment and spiritual forces shape global events. Blending real-world political experience with deep research into archaeology, UFO phenomena, and suppressed historical narratives, Hoffman offers compelling commentary on topics ranging from ancient civilizations and the Dead Sea Scrolls to modern populist movements, paranormal continuity, and leadership strategy in chaotic environments. As the author of The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business and the forthcoming Politics of Heaven, he brings a grounded yet provocative voice to media discussions, supported by firsthand experiences and a cross-disciplinary approach that bridges science, history, and theology. For interviews, speaking engagements, or expert analysis, visit richhoffmanbooks.com or contact directly via phone at 513-307-5815 or email at rhoffman@richhoffmanbooks.com.  If you’ve seen the movie, Disclosure Day and want to talk about it and the implications of Presidnet Trump’s UAP disclosures, let me know and we can bring some color to your coverage. https://richhoffmanbooks.com/media-inquiries-broadcast-topics-and-contact-info/?frame-nonce=ad51e7ecba I do have a firsthand UFO encounter to discuss.

The Echoes of Ancient Fires: Human Sacrifice, Modern Idolatry, and the Fall from Solomon’s Legacy

I stood outside Mustang Sally’s in the Liberty Center shopping complex (now closed), my neighborhood in Liberty Township, minding my own business in my cowboy hat and the way I’ve dressed for decades in Butler County, when a couple approached me. They had moved from the East Coast, via New Hampshire, to our area with certain expectations. They weren’t happy. Their comments made it clear they wanted to reshape this place into something more like where they came from. My response was direct: You moved into my backyard and brought your garbage with you, expecting the region to bend to your liking. You left a place you helped mess up, and now you want to import the same problems here. You don’t like the Bible belts, the cowboy hats, or the people who still go to church on Sundays with Christian origins. Do you really expect to show up and change everything overnight? 

That encounter lingered with me, not because it was unique—I get recognized from my videos, blog, and activism against the Lakota levies—but because it tied directly into the themes I’ve been exploring in my book The Politics of Heaven. Human sacrifice has always been a recurring temptation for humanity, a way to appease false gods in pursuit of power, prosperity, or protection. This came sharply into focus during graduation season, the rituals in which parents parade their children as offerings to the modern altars of secular success. I’m not particularly fond of these ceremonies; too often, they reveal parents who have done a poor job raising resilient children in a world that demands conformity to destructive ideologies. To understand this, we must go back to the Bible, to the days after King Solomon, when the seeds of betrayal bore bitter fruit. 

King Solomon, for all his wisdom and the glory of the First Temple, failed spectacularly. He had hundreds of wives and concubines from foreign nations, each bringing their gods—Ashtoreth, Molech, Chemosh—and he built high places for them. Yahweh, the God of his father David, was provoked to anger. The kingdom would be torn apart after his death, and his descendants would inherit the consequences. Fast-forward roughly 200 years to the reign of Ahaz, king of Judah, a direct descendant of that troubled line. Second Chronicles 28:3 tells us plainly: “He burned sacrifices in the Valley of Ben Hinnom and sacrificed his children in the fire, engaging in the detestable practices of the nations the Lord had driven out before the Israelites.” 

This wasn’t a minor slip. Ahaz walked in the ways of the kings of Israel, making molded images for the Baals. He sacrificed and burned incense on high places, hills, and under every green tree. In his distress, he grew more unfaithful, turning to the gods of Damascus that had defeated him, reasoning that if they helped his enemies, they might help him. He shut the doors of the Temple in Jerusalem and set up altars everywhere. The Chronicler emphasizes the depth of this apostasy: Ahaz burned his sons—plural—in the fire according to the abominations of the nations Yahweh had cast out. This was Molech worship, the fiery offering of children in the Tophet of the Hinnom Valley, later called Gehenna, a place of judgment. 

Archaeology confirms the horror. Sites across the ancient Near East, from Canaanite high places at Gezer with infant bones in jars beneath standing stones, to the vast Tophets of Carthage (a Phoenician colony with Canaanite roots), reveal urns filled with burned child remains, often dedicated to Baal-Hammon or Tanit. Estimates suggest thousands of such sacrifices over centuries. Classical writers like Diodorus Siculus described bronze statues where children were placed and rolled into flames, with drums beating to drown out the screams so parents wouldn’t relent. The Bible’s condemnation in Leviticus 18:21, Deuteronomy 12:31, Jeremiah 7:31, and elsewhere aligns with this evidence. Yahweh had driven out the Canaanites precisely because of these practices—the land “vomited them out.” Yet Israel repeatedly fell into the same pit. 

In the time of Ahaz, about two centuries after Solomon’s peak, the First Temple still stood, a visible reminder of David’s purchase of the threshing floor and the covenant. Yet Judah’s king, with all the advantages of that heritage, chose Molech over Yahweh. He sacrificed his own children—flesh and blood—to secure political advantage, rain, victory, or prosperity. The priests beat drums to mask the cries. This wasn’t abstract theology; it was a direct betrayal of the God who demanded justice, not the blood of innocents. Ezekiel and Jeremiah later railed against similar abominations in the Valley of Hinnom, where people built high places to Baal and burned sons and daughters. 

I see the same pattern today in what I call the “Lego moms”—those levy supporters with their uniform, block-like conformity, who confront people like me for wearing a cowboy hat or standing against higher property taxes for public schools. They move here from places they’ve ruined, expecting Butler County’s Bible-belt roots to yield. At graduation ceremonies, they beam with pride as their children are sent off to woke institutions, sacrificing them on the altars of liberal causes, corporate conformity, pronouns, and careerism. “Where’s your kid going to school?” they ask, as if the choice of secular university is a burnt offering for future success. These parents, often in their 40s and 50s, resent the very children who “hold them back,” trading family for social approval and hedge-fund portfolios. 

This is modern child sacrifice, not with literal flames but with the slow burn of indoctrination. Abortion, too, fits the pattern—millions offered up for convenience, autonomy, or economic “luck.” Democrats and progressives advocate policies that treat children as obstacles to personal fulfillment. Just as Ahaz hoped Molech would deliver victory, today’s secularists sacrifice the next generation to the gods of climate alarmism, gender ideology, and big government. Public schools become free babysitting services funded by property taxes, turning children into wards of the state while parents pursue careers. I’ve said it before: many parents don’t love their children more than Ahaz loved his. They send pretty little girls and boys to the “meat market” of liberal campuses, where they learn to hate their heritage and conform or perish. 

My own experiences in the 1990s living on UC’s campus during the Clinton years showed the early creep of this. It wasn’t as extreme then, but the trajectory was clear. Now, it’s full-blown. These Lego types despise the Bible because it judges them. Second Chronicles 28 provides the reference point for righteous anger against such evil. Yahweh condemned it because He values life, covenant, and moral order—not the appeasement of demons through innocent blood. The prophets tied this to spiritual adultery, just as Solomon’s foreign wives led him astray. 

Expanding on the biblical context, the temptation was immense. Before the full revelation of the Torah as we know it, the ancient Near East teemed with gods. Baal, the storm god, demanded loyalty through fertility rites and sometimes blood. Molech (or Milcom of the Ammonites) was particularly associated with child sacrifice for protection or prosperity. Kings like Ahaz, facing military threats from Aram and Israel, panicked and offered what was most precious—their offspring. This mirrored practices among the Phoenicians, Carthaginians, and even farther afield. In the Americas, the Mississippian culture at Cahokia, near modern St. Louis, featured massive earthen pyramids and evidence of ritual sacrifice, including dozens of young women buried with elites in Mound 72. Aztec, Maya, and other indigenous groups practiced heart extraction and other offerings on a grand scale. Trade networks may have linked these ideas across continents. My old screenplay, The Lost Cannibals of Cahokia, explored this, drawing on real archaeology of the mounds that rivaled European cities in scale. 

Native American cultures, often romanticized today, shared these ritual elements—burials with retainers, possible foundation sacrifices. The Bible’s command to conquer Canaan wasn’t arbitrary; it targeted a society steeped in such evil to prevent its spread. Yet Israel’s failure shows how seductive it is. Even after the Temple’s destruction and exile, echoes persisted. In the Middle Ages, burnings at the stake during the Reformation carried ritualistic overtones, sometimes tied to power struggles between kings and popes, much like Solomon’s wives influencing policy. Thomas More’s execution comes to mind—resistance to the new order met with fiery judgment. 

In our time, the drums still beat to drown dissent. Media, academia, and government celebrate “Pride” and “choice” while parents cheer their children’s transition or ideological capture. The same people who sneer at Bible-thumpers and cowboy hats push levies that raise taxes for more indoctrination. They moved to Ohio’s suburbs expecting to import coastal progressivism, then get angry when locals resist. I despise this weakness. As I’ve written in The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, true strength comes from imposing will on chaos with discipline, not sacrificing the future for short-term gains. Trump’s approach with his own children—high standards, no nonsense—contrasts sharply with the sacrificial failures of figures like Hunter Biden or the ideological offspring of elite Democrats. 

The spiritual warfare is clear. The Politics of Heaven delves into Nephilim, divine rebellion, and how ancient conspiracies echo today. Population agendas, occult influences in media—from 1950s family themes to later hedonism and Crowley-inspired chaos—all serve the same anti-human forces. Graduation ceremonies become pageants of pride in sacrifice: “Aren’t you proud? We’re sending ours to the best (woke) schools.” Meanwhile, resilient families teaching morality, history, and faith get labeled anti-child for wanting better. 

Archaeological and historical studies reinforce the Bible. Excavations at Gezer, Carthage’s Tophet (with up to 20,000 urns), and biblical sites show burned infant remains tied to vows for divine favor. Scholars like Patricia Smith analyzed teeth to confirm age and ritual context. The practice wasn’t rare or exaggerated propaganda; it was systemic until reformers like Josiah purged the Tophet. Yet it recurs because humans crave control over the unknown through blood offerings. 

I’ve confronted these dynamics locally in Butler County—in Lakota schools, commissioner races, and tax fights. The Lego levy supporters embody the spirit of Ahaz: willing to burn the next generation for perceived advantage. They resent traditional symbols because they expose the guilt. The Bible offers judgment and hope. Hezekiah, Ahaz’s son, reversed much of the damage, reopening the Temple. Repentance is possible, but it requires rejecting the false gods. 

Footnotes

1.  2 Chronicles 28:3 (NIV).

2.  Commentary on Ahaz’s reign, Enduring Word Bible Commentary.

3.  Archaeological reports on Canaanite Tophets, Biblical Archaeology Review.

4.  Diodorus Siculus on Carthaginian practices.

5.  Excavations at Cahokia Mounds, National Park Service, and related studies.

6.  Leviticus 18:21; Deuteronomy 12:31.

7.  Jeremiah 7:31; 32:35.

8.  Personal reflections on local politics and graduations in Butler County, Ohio.

9.  The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business by Rich Hoffman.

10.  Studies on Molech worship by John Day and others.

Bibliography

•  The Holy Bible, New International Version.

•  Dearman, J. Andrew. “The Tophet in Jerusalem.” Journal of Northwest Semitic Languages.

•  Heider, George C. The Cult of Molek. JSOT Supplement Series.

•  Smith, Patricia. “Infants Sacrificed? The Tale Teeth Tell.” Biblical Archaeology Review.

•  Stager, Lawrence E., and Samuel R. Wolff. “Child Sacrifice at Carthage.” Biblical Archaeology Review.

•  Tatlock, Jason. Child Sacrifice in the Ancient Near and Middle East. Oxford University Press.

•  Various archaeological reports on Gezer, Carthage, and Cahokia.

•  Hoffman, Rich. The Politics of Heaven (manuscript) and blog/podcast archives.

•  Additional sources from Biblical Archaeology Review, ASOR publications, and historical texts on Phoenician and Mississippian cultures.

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 author, political consultant, and strategic advisor based in Cincinnati, Ohio, and the creator of The Politics of Heaven—a unique framework that connects biblical theology, ancient history, and modern power structures to explain how moral alignment and spiritual forces shape global events. Blending real-world political experience with deep research into archaeology, UFO phenomena, and suppressed historical narratives, Hoffman offers compelling commentary on topics ranging from ancient civilizations and the Dead Sea Scrolls to modern populist movements, paranormal continuity, and leadership strategy in chaotic environments. As the author of The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business and the forthcoming Politics of Heaven, he brings a grounded yet provocative voice to media discussions, supported by firsthand experiences and a cross-disciplinary approach that bridges science, history, and theology. For interviews, speaking engagements, or expert analysis, visit richhoffmanbooks.com or contact directly via phone at 513-307-5815 or email at rhoffman@richhoffmanbooks.com.  If you’ve seen the movie, Disclosure Day and want to talk about it and the implications of Presidnet Trump’s UAP disclosures, let me know and we can bring some color to your coverage. https://richhoffmanbooks.com/media-inquiries-broadcast-topics-and-contact-info/?frame-nonce=ad51e7ecba I do have a firsthand UFO encounter to discuss.

The “Right Stuff” in Medicine: If we aren’t curing cancer we can’t call ourselves an advanced culture

I have spent a great deal of time observing how modern society reacts to both achievement and decline, and nowhere is this contrast more visible than in the way we collectively respond to technological ambition on one hand and human vulnerability on the other. There is a recurring pattern I cannot ignore, one that surfaces in moments that should otherwise be met with admiration or compassion. Instead, what I often detect is something more complicated—a quiet, sometimes barely concealed satisfaction when success is interrupted, or when prominent individuals are reminded of their own mortality.

I noticed the same pattern in reactions to high-profile technical setbacks, such as rocket failures tied to ambitious space programs. When a launch vehicle explodes or a mission is delayed, the tone in certain corners of the media and commentary ecosystem can shift from analytical to subtly dismissive. It is as if the grander the objective—reaching orbit, returning to the Moon, advancing human presence in space—the more satisfying it becomes for some observers to see that effort fail spectacularly. I do not believe this is universal, but it is present, and it reflects something deeper than mere critique. It reflects a discomfort with ambition itself, particularly when that ambition aims to elevate human capability beyond its current limits.

I have seen that same tone emerge in a very different context: the public reporting of illness, especially serious diagnoses such as cancer among well-known figures. When those diagnoses are announced, the coverage often carries an undertone that goes beyond simple reporting. The message, implicit rather than explicit, is that no level of success, status, or influence insulates a person from biological reality. That part, of course, is true. But what troubles me is when that truth is delivered with an almost leveling satisfaction—an unspoken reassurance that the “lofty” are ultimately brought down to the same plane as everyone else.

I find that reaction deeply problematic. In my view, the proper response to illness—whether it affects a public figure or a private individual—is empathy paired with determination. Determination not merely to treat symptoms, but to fundamentally improve the systems and technologies that govern health outcomes. Instead, what we often see is a cultural normalization of disease, as if the persistence of illnesses like cancer is inevitable and beyond our reach in any meaningful sense.

My perspective has been shaped in part by personal exposure to the healthcare system through family and close observation. I have seen both extraordinary dedication among practitioners and systemic issues that are far more difficult to reconcile. The healthcare industry, particularly in developed nations, is structurally complex and in many ways financially incentive-driven. According to data from the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services, U.S. healthcare spending exceeded $4.5 trillion in 2022, representing nearly 18% of GDP.[1] That scale alone introduces distortions—economic, behavioral, and institutional—that are not always aligned with optimal patient outcomes.

I do not believe it is accurate or fair to reduce healthcare professionals to a single characterization. The field contains individuals of remarkable skill and integrity. At the same time, it operates within a framework that often rewards volume over prevention, treatment over cure, and cost expansion over efficiency. These systemic incentives have been widely discussed in policy literature, including analyses from the National Academy of Medicine and the World Health Organization, both of which highlight structural inefficiencies and misaligned incentives as persistent challenges.[2][3]

Where I draw a sharper distinction is in the cultural posture surrounding health and illness. In many ways, modern healthcare systems are built around managing disease rather than eliminating it. Chronic illness management, long-term pharmaceutical dependency, and repeated procedural interventions form the economic backbone of the system. While these approaches save lives and extend survival, they do not always reflect a paradigm aimed at decisive resolution.

This is where I believe the contrast with fields like aerospace engineering becomes instructive. In aerospace, failure is analyzed, corrected, and systematically eliminated through iterative design. The goal is not to manage risk indefinitely, but to reduce it to near zero through engineering discipline. The “right stuff,” a term popularized by Tom Wolfe, captures this blend of analytical rigor and bold experimentation.[4] It is the willingness to push boundaries while refining systems to the point of reliability.

I have long believed that healthcare would benefit from adopting more of that mindset. Instead of accepting certain diseases as enduring features of human existence, the focus should shift toward eradication or, at minimum, transformative mitigation. There are promising developments in this direction. Advances in immunotherapy, gene editing technologies such as CRISPR, and regenerative medicine have begun to change the landscape of what is medically possible.[5][6] In cancer treatment alone, survival rates have improved significantly over the past several decades due to earlier detection and targeted therapies.[7]

However, it is critical to ground expectations in current scientific reality. While substantial progress has been made, there is no single universal cure for cancer at this time, yet.   But by this time, there should be. Cancer is not one disease but a collection of hundreds of distinct conditions, each with unique genetic and environmental drivers.[8] The goal of cancer treatment should be to defeat it. What can be said, with confidence, is that the trajectory of research is accelerating, and breakthroughs that once seemed theoretical are increasingly entering clinical practice.

I believe this distinction matters, particularly when we speak to audiences capable of influencing investment, policy, and innovation. The objective should not be to declare premature victory, but to articulate a clear and urgent mandate: accelerate the transition from disease management to disease elimination wherever scientifically feasible. That requires alignment across research institutions, funding mechanisms, regulatory frameworks, and private-sector innovation.

It also requires a cultural shift. We should not accept illness as something that simply “grounds” individuals or equalizes outcomes. Instead, we should view every diagnosis as a challenge to be solved—systematically, rapidly, and with the same intensity that we apply to other complex engineering problems. That mindset does not diminish humility; it enhances purpose.

I remain optimistic that such a transformation is possible. The convergence of biotechnology, artificial intelligence, and advanced materials science is creating capabilities that did not exist even a decade ago. Machine learning models are already being used to identify drug candidates, predict protein structures, and optimize treatment pathways.[9] Personalized medicine, once an abstract concept, is becoming increasingly tangible as genomic sequencing becomes more accessible.

The question is not whether progress will continue, but whether it will accelerate at a rate commensurate with its potential. That acceleration depends on leadership—across government, industry, and the scientific community. It depends on prioritizing long-term outcomes over short-term financial gain. And it depends on fostering a culture that celebrates breakthroughs rather than fixating on failure.

When I reflect on the reactions I described at the outset—whether to a rocket explosion or a cancer diagnosis—I see them as symptoms of a broader cultural hesitation to embrace ambition fully. There is comfort in the notion that limits are fixed and universal. There is less comfort in confronting the possibility that those limits may be overcome and that doing so requires sustained effort, risk, and transformation.

I do not share that hesitation. I believe that human progress has always depended on challenging perceived constraints, whether in flight, exploration, or medicine. The same spirit that drives us to reach beyond Earth should drive us to eliminate preventable suffering here on it.

In that sense, the future of healthcare and the future of technological advancement are not separate conversations. They are part of the same continuum: the pursuit of a more capable, more resilient, and ultimately more humane civilization. And if we approach that pursuit with the right balance of discipline and daring—the true “right stuff”—then the outcomes we once considered extraordinary may become routine.

—

Footnotes & References

  1. Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services. National Health Expenditure Data, 2023.
  2. National Academy of Medicine. The Learning Healthcare System: Workshop Summary, 2007.
  3. World Health Organization. Health Systems Financing: The Path to Universal Coverage, 2010.
  4. Wolfe, Tom. The Right Stuff. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1979.
  5. National Cancer Institute. Immunotherapy for Cancer, updated 2024.
  6. Doudna, J., & Charpentier, E. “The new frontier of genome engineering with CRISPR-Cas9.” Science, 2014.
  7. American Cancer Society. Cancer Facts & Figures 2025.
  8. Hanahan, D., & Weinberg, R. “Hallmarks of Cancer: The Next Generation.” Cell, 2011.
  9. Jumper, J. et al. “Highly accurate protein structure prediction with AlphaFold.” Nature, 2021.

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 SpaceX IPO: A Generational Wealth Opportunity and the Dawn of a New Space Economy

I have been saying it all week, and I’ll say it again here: the SpaceX IPO represents one of the greatest opportunities for generational wealth creation in our lifetime. As someone who has followed SpaceX for years, toured its facilities on the Space Coast, and dreamed of humanity’s expansion into the cosmos, I see this not just as a stock offering but as a pivotal moment in human history. Wealth, as I often remind people, is a tool. The more tools you have, the more problems you can solve and the more good you can do. Donald Trump became president in large part because of his wealth, which allowed him to overcome the entrenched opposition that would have sunk anyone else. That same principle applies here. Elon Musk has taken the wealth from PayPal and other ventures and gambled it boldly on ventures like SpaceX, and now everyday investors have a chance to join in that vision. 

Critics, including some friends in the WarRoom group and others suspicious of wealthy tech figures close to Trump, voice concerns about subsidies, oligarchs, and potential crashes. I understand the skepticism—history is full of cautionary tales. But I counter with a simple truth: private sector innovation, not government bureaucracy, drives real growth. Look at the job numbers under Trump: government employment is at its lowest level in decades as workers shift into productive private roles. That transfer of energy and resources is exactly how economies expand. SpaceX embodies this shift, turning ambitious dreams into tangible progress. If you have a few thousand dollars sitting idle—perhaps from a recent real estate sale earning minimal interest in a bank—putting it into SpaceX at the IPO could be transformative. I’ve told people with $50,000 or $100,000 to consider it seriously. The potential returns, in my view, could turn modest investments into life-changing sums over the coming years. 

My enthusiasm isn’t blind. I recently visited the Space Coast with my wife, touring Kennedy Space Center, SpaceX facilities, and Blue Origin sites. We were in Florida visiting family, staying in a condo near Cocoa Beach and Cape Canaveral. After a full day immersed in the excitement of rockets and exploration, I was still wearing my favorite SpaceX shirt when we stopped at the local Publix for fresh fruit, berries, grapes, and snacks. A fellow shopper, who looked like a Daytona Bike Week regular and a likely DeSantis or Trump supporter, approached me. “Elon Musk is a bomb,” he said. “He gets all his money from government subsidies. It’ll be great when he’s gone.” I listened politely but felt the opposite. That encounter crystallized the divide: some see dependence on subsidies, others see a catalyst for unprecedented progress. I walked away more convinced than ever that SpaceX is the real deal. 

SpaceX’s trajectory has been remarkable. Just recently, around Memorial Day 2026, Starship’s twelfth flight test achieved a successful launch and a controlled landing in the Indian Ocean, meeting key criteria for precision and reusability. This progress paves the way for the IPO, scheduled to price around June 11 and begin trading on June 12 under the ticker SPCX on Nasdaq. The company is targeting a $ 135-per-share price and aims to raise approximately $75 billion at a valuation of $1.75 trillion to $1.8 trillion. This would make it the largest IPO in history, surpassing previous records. Demand is strong, with reports of oversubscription. Elon Musk’s vision isn’t about personal enrichment alone; it’s about making humanity multi-planetary. He has often echoed the science fiction that inspired both of us—books that ask why we’re here and how we can reach further. 

I love science fiction and have for decades. Musk, like me, reads the classics and envisions carrying humanity forward. I’ve been vocal about the space economy for years, anticipating a thriving sector once the right policies are aligned. Trump’s return has accelerated that. The space economy isn’t some distant fantasy; projections show it growing from hundreds of billions today to over a trillion dollars by the 2030s or 2040s, driven by satellites, launches, tourism, and resource utilization. Starship is the key enabler—reducing costs dramatically and opening access to orbit, the Moon, Mars, and beyond. Think of the wealth generated during America’s westward expansion or the railroad boom in the late 19th century. This is analogous, but on a cosmic scale. No indigenous populations to exploit on the Moon or Mars; it’s pure frontier opportunity. 

During our Florida trip, walking the Space Coast, I saw the potential firsthand. The area around Ron Jon Surf Shop, Port Canaveral, Cocoa Beach—it’s poised to boom as Las Vegas did, but with a focus on high-tech industry rather than just entertainment. Restaurants that are now seafood shacks could evolve into world-class establishments. Billions in economic activity from launches, manufacturing, tourism, and support services will flow in. I’ve seen similar transformations: the growth of Abu Dhabi and Dubai from desert to gleaming cities, or the shifts in organized crime I witnessed in my younger days in Cincinnati and Newport, Kentucky, where money found new outlets. Vegas replaced mob-run desert outposts with a massive entertainment economy. Space will do the same, creating legitimate, innovative wealth. 

Critics point to BlackRock buying millions of shares or Musk’s past associations. I don’t like every player involved—Larry Fink’s politics, Mark Zuckerberg’s influence—but I separate the good from the bad. Wealthy individuals like Musk use their resources for ambitious projects. Trump’s wealth insulated him from the system. More people with independent wealth strengthen society against overreach. I’ve argued against socialism and progressive policies my whole life, yet I admire aspects of Teddy Roosevelt’s—energetic expansion—while rejecting its modern excesses. Musk isn’t a traditional Democrat or Republican; he’s a builder pushing boundaries.

Some friends worry about a crash or tech oligarchs. Economies have cycles, and short-term volatility is inevitable. Starship tests will have setbacks—explosions on the pad have happened before—but the long-term trend is upward. Hold for years, not days. Investing $1,000 today could yield enormous multiples as the valuation climbs with successful missions, Starlink expansion, and deep-space operations. Musk has said bold things before, like the Cybertruck’s early claims, but the engineering delivers. SpaceX’s valuation already reflects trillions in potential. This IPO could make Musk the first trillionaire, but more importantly, it democratizes access to that future for those who participate. 

My personal connection runs deep. As an aerospace executive, I’ve seen the industry up close. Model rocketry with my grandson teaches resilience—launching in wind and rain, troubleshooting, recovering. That same spirit scales to Starship. I can’t wait for archaeology on Mars. We’ll discover more about human history, perhaps ties to ancient legends of giants, the Nephilim, or low-gravity environments that foster taller statures, as in biblical accounts of Titans or Goliath. Low gravity on Mars could allow future generations to grow taller, altering human physiology over time. UFO phenomena, government disclosures, and ancient texts suggest we’ve had visitors or prior connections. The “Politics of Heaven” I explore in my writing ties spiritual warfare, history, and this frontier. Mars colonization isn’t an escape; it’s fulfillment and backup for Earth. 

Economically, the space economy will generate trillions through resource mining (asteroids rich in metals), orbital manufacturing, space-based solar power, and tourism. Data centers and AI on Earth will support it, fueled by reliable energy. Trump’s policies favor this private-led growth over bureaucratic stagnation. Biden-era approaches seemed designed to hobble American leadership, benefiting China. Now, with momentum restored, SpaceX leads.

I recall historical parallels: the 1860s to 1900s saw explosive capitalist growth despite the import of Marxist ideas. Antitrust broke some monopolies, but innovation thrived. Railroads connected a nation; Starship will connect worlds. Vegas exploded with entertainment revenue; Dubai with oil and vision. The Space Coast will follow. Local businesses, from shacks to fine dining, will thrive on influxes of engineers, tourists, and capital.

Skeptics at Publix or on CNBC apply old metrics. Conventional wisdom fails against paradigm shifts. Short-sellers may pounce on dips, but patient investors win. By 2030-2031, those who buy in could see returns that create multi-generational security. Imagine passing on wealth that frees descendants from financial drudgery, allowing focus on innovation, family, and higher pursuits. Yes, some may become “spoiled,” but that’s a parenting challenge, not a reason to reject opportunity. Vanderbilt and Rockefeller levels of wealth built institutions and advanced society.

My track record on predictions stems from pattern recognition: cultural shifts in the 1970s-80s music and media as spiritual attacks; political realignments; technological leaps. I’ve said things in 1983, 1993, 2003, and 2013 that materialized. This feels the same. SpaceX isn’t hype; it’s execution. Starlink already connects remote areas. Reusable rockets slashed costs. Human Mars missions are on the horizon.

For those with expendable capital—from real estate, savings, or investments—this is better than lottery odds or a sure Derby horse. It’s the underdog that wins because the fundamentals are revolutionary. BlackRock may profit, but so can average people. I encourage friends and readers: if you have $50k-$100k that’s not needed immediately, consider allocating it. Diversify, of course, but don’t miss this.

The IPO timing aligns with broader disclosure conversations and cultural moments, such as films that spark interest. It’s symbolic: breaking free from Earth-bound limits. I wore that SpaceX shirt proudly, envisioning open planets for humanity. My wife and I, after decades together, share these adventures—museums, history, family trips. Grandchildren will inherit a world with options we barely imagined.

Challenges remain: regulatory hurdles, technical risks, geopolitical tensions. China competes, preferring America to be sidelined. Critics tied to old systems resist. Yet Musk’s focus—multi-planetary life—transcends politics. He invests not in yachts but in rockets. That drive, rooted in curiosity and science fiction, mirrors my own lifelong questions about history, archaeology, and purpose.

In my younger days, handling high-stakes situations in the shadows of Cincinnati taught me about power, coded signals, and resilience. Those lessons apply: see beyond surface narratives. Two-tier systems exist, but individuals will impose order. SpaceX does that technologically.

The space economy will dwarf past booms—trillions in new value from transport, resources, research. AI and robots will handle the dangers, with humans providing direction. Tesla autonomy extending to space. Data centers in Ohio, powered locally, supporting it all.

This is a rare chance. People will look back in 2036 or 2046 and wish they’d listened. My essays and podcasts often explore these intersections—politics, history, faith, innovation. The Politics of Heaven, my upcoming book, delves into biblical conspiracies, giants, spiritual warfare, and humanity’s place in the cosmos. Mars archaeology will illuminate much.

To those suspicious of Musk’s Trump ties or wealth: judge by results. Launches succeed, technology advances, and jobs are created. Government subsidies? Many industries receive them; SpaceX delivers returns through innovation. Private investment now amplifies that.

For the guy at Publix or Tucker Carlson skeptics worried about “demon science”: I see God-given talent in engineers pushing boundaries. Creation includes curiosity. Staying Earth-bound risks stagnation; expansion honors stewardship and dominion.

Invest if it fits your risk tolerance and timeline—long-term hold. The Starship ecosystem—landings at Boca Chica, expansions at Cape Canaveral—will reshape regions and economies. Port Canaveral is bustling like never before.

This IPO isn’t just financial; it’s philosophical. Wealth as a tool for a multi-planetary future. Generational legacy. I urge those who can: participate. You’ll be glad, and future generations will thank you.

Footnotes (extensive selection; full version would expand):

1.  SpaceX IPO prospectus and SEC filings, May 2026.

2.  Reuters reporting on $135 pricing and $75B raise, June 2026. 

3.  CNBC coverage of Starship Flight 12, May 2026.

4.  Morgan Stanley Space Economy projections. 

5.  Personal observations from Space Coast visit, 2026.

6.  Biblical Archaeology Review archives on ancient history.

7.  Historical analyses of railroad expansion and Gilded Age wealth.

8.  Reports on Dubai/Abu Dhabi development.

9.  Elon Musk interviews on multi-planetary goals.

10.  Economic studies on space resource utilization.

Bibliography (large sample):

•  SpaceX Official Updates and Launch Manifest.

•  Bloomberg, Reuters, CNBC, NYT articles on IPO, 2026.

•  Morgan Stanley: “The New Space Economy.”

•  McKinsey/World Economic Forum Space Economy Report.

•  Hoffman’s The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business and The Politics of Heaven (forthcoming).

•  Asimov’s Foundation series (influence on vision).

•  Biblical texts, Book of Enoch, Dead Sea Scrolls scholarship.

•  Historical works on American expansion, railroads, Vegas growth.

•  Aerospace industry analyses, NASA/Artemis documents.

•  Additional sources on AI, robotics, asteroid mining economics.

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 Democrat Autopsy of 2024: A Phony Cover Story for What Everybody Already Knew, the massive evidence of election fraud, Tina Peters tried to present the evidence, and they threw her in jail for it, that’s part of the cheat

Let’s talk about this so-called autopsy the Democrats put out in May 2026 for a little bit. I don’t make any illusions about my distrust and even hatred for consultants, even though a lot of people would call me one. I do a lot of consulting work, and my track record is strong because I charge what I’m worth and deliver real value that people can actually use in the trenches of business, politics, and life. But most of these professional consultants? They’re people who couldn’t hack it in the real world, manufacturing floors, or local community politics where results matter more than fancy slides. So they dress themselves up as magicians with secret knowledge. They sell smoke and mirrors to folks who already know the problems deep down but lack the articulation or the spine to face them head-on and fix them. That’s exactly what’s happening with this Democrat “autopsy” of the 2024 election. 

They paid big money for this thing—hundreds of pages, I believe it ran to around 192 pages in the version that finally saw the light of day—and published it with straight faces, complete with disclaimers that it didn’t even fully represent the DNC’s views. Somehow, they expected nobody to crack up laughing. The report basically says Democrats lost because they hemorrhaged working-class voters, non-college-educated voters, young men, and chunks of their traditional minority base, especially Latinos, showing seismic shifts toward Trump. Decade after decade, they took these groups for granted, pushed policies that drove people away, and offered nothing compelling in return. What are you bringing people to? That’s the question they never answer honestly. Instead, it reads like a corporate consultant’s PowerPoint—full of clichés, avoiding the real fire in the room, with big gaps on Biden’s age, Gaza, and the core platform failures. 

I’ve seen this playbook my whole life, from my days handling high-stakes situations in Cincinnati’s riverfront politics back in the 1990s, dealing with the shadows of organized networks in Newport, Kentucky, and Sharonville, Ohio, to my executive roles in where I’ve watched consultants parachute in, create more problems than they solve, and bill by the hour while real workers keep the programs on track. Consultants love ambiguity because it keeps the checks coming. They thrive on plausible deniability and the ability to point fingers later. But in politics, especially after a shellacking like 2024, where Trump secured 312 electoral votes to Harris’s 226 and won the popular vote with about 77.3 million to her roughly 75 million, the truth cuts through like a whip crack. The problem wasn’t some vague failure to “connect” with demographics. The Democrats lost because their platform had become openly hostile to the American spirit of free choice, capitalism, and self-reliance. They treated voters like prisoners behind an East Berlin wall—stay on our side or else, enforced by government, media, and algorithms. And when the wall cracked under real scrutiny in more states with voter ID and verification, the flood of rejection happened. 

Let me walk you through how I see it, because I’ve lived this from the ground up over more than half a century right here in Butler County, Ohio. I’ve worked since I was twelve, climbed from manual labor to aerospace executive leadership, advised on campaigns without the six-figure unethical grift, studied the patterns of power in City Hall during bridge projects and real estate deals, and raised a family overlooking the Great Miami River valley. I know what it looks like when institutions rig the game and then act shocked when people walk away. The autopsy dances around the obvious: Kamala Harris was a disastrous candidate propped up after they unceremoniously dumped Joe Biden following that disastrous June 2024 debate. She didn’t earn it through a real primary process; party insiders installed her. Just like Hillary Clinton years before, in the eyes of many rank-and-file, the party thought identity markers—woman, woman of color—would magically mobilize voters without any real substance, vision, or ownership in the process. They forgot a basic principle of team-building that I’ve applied in every program I’ve led: people need to feel a sense of autonomy and ownership over the ideas they’re supposed to champion. When you rig the rules, rig the debates, sideline better options like actual contenders who might have challenged the direction, and shove forward someone the base never truly chose in an open contest, enthusiasm dies on the vine. 

I said it from the moment they made the switch back in 2024: this was damage control, pure and simple. Biden was toxic heading into a rematch with Trump. The party knew the 2020 numbers had serious issues—precinct-by-precinct anomalies that didn’t match historical national patterns, the unprecedented flood of mail-in ballots under loose COVID rules that bypassed normal signature verification, chain-of-custody standards, and same-day counting. Courts largely didn’t want to touch it despite the evidence that jumped off the maps for anyone paying attention. Democrats understood that repeating the 2020 playbook in 2024, under greater scrutiny and with more states tightening rules after the backlash, would expose too much. So they needed a sacrificial lamb. Harris got the short ramp-up, the impossible task of separating from Biden’s record without alienating the base, and the built-in excuses: not enough time, Biden’s visible decline, Trump’s dominance in that debate where he dismantled the narrative. The autopsy mentions some strategic missteps but skips the heart of it, focusing instead on tactical failures while ignoring the foundational reliance on mechanisms that couldn’t withstand honest elections. 

This is where my experience with consultants really bites hard. I could play their game if I wanted—sell snake oil to desperate campaigns, charge exorbitant fees, write reports full of buzzwords, and blame the candidate or the voters later when it all collapses. But I don’t, because I apply what I know to what I consider righteous causes. Politics is demeaning enough: you open yourself to every critic, pour your life and reputation into it, stand for principles in front of neighbors and family, and then hire some outsider to tell you what you should have done so you can deflect blame when the results come in. The consultant class on both sides, but especially the Democrat machine that’s been captured by elite academics and coastal strategists, has turned into a protection racket for bad ideas. They copy-paste from Harvard case studies, push focus-grouped fluff that sounds smart in a conference room but falls flat in a Butler County precinct or an aerospace shop floor, and never admit the emperor has no clothes. This autopsy is Exhibit A. It talks about losing working-class voters without confronting why in any meaningful depth: the full-throated embrace of socialism, open borders that strain communities, identity politics over merit and results, and big-government control that strangles everyday life with inflation, regulation, and cultural mandates. 

Americans, even poor Americans living in places like Trenton or Middletown near me, live better than most of the world because of capitalism. You can go to the dollar store and buy chicken nuggets, paper towels, toilet paper—basics that were hard to come by or low quality in many socialist experiments throughout history. Upward mobility exists here because markets reward effort, innovation, and voluntary exchange. I’ve seen it in my own career, from manual labor as a kid to overseeing complex aerospace programs where supply chains, skilled workers, and competition drive excellence. Democrats’ shift toward AOC-style democratic socialism, Bernie Sanders rhetoric, and endless victimhood narratives told people they were helpless victims needing government saviors at every turn. Meanwhile, grocery prices skyrocketed under Biden-Harris policies, gas prices hurt family road trips and visits to parents or grandkids, energy costs rose, and cultural attacks on traditional family structures and American history alienated millions who want to live decent lives. People saw through the lies because they live them every day. They weren’t excited to vote for imposed candidates who felt like corporate products rather than organic choices. Turnout in key demographics dropped because the options felt rigged against their self-interest, their families, and their communities. 

Take John Fetterman in Pennsylvania as one of the few who seemed to listen to the voters. He came from a more socialist-leaning background, had his health challenges with that stroke during the 2022 campaign, but adjusted to what people were actually saying on the ground. He saw the direction of the country, the struggles in his state with the economy and borders, and started showing some sense—crossing party lines at times, strongly supporting Israel, even warming to certain Trump-era realities in ways that shocked his original base. That kind of adaptation is rare in the modern Democratic Party. Most doubled down on the failing formula. Gavin Newsom? Is he their shining star for 2028, according to some? The guy who’s turned California into a national cautionary tale of high taxes, homelessness, crime, and endless regulations while the state struggles with basic governance? In Ohio, they tried pulling out the old playbook with Bruce Springsteen concerts and celebrity appearances to manufacture enthusiasm and buy votes, the same Obama-era tricks that worked when the machine had cultural momentum. It flopped harder this time. Trump didn’t need a musical quartet or Hollywood stars to fill arenas. People showed up for the message of strength, secure borders, economic opportunity, law and order, and yes—actual free choice unmediated by elites. 

I’ve dictated thousands upon thousands of words on these patterns over the years because I see the through-line from my own life experiences. In my younger working years in the Cincinnati area, I served as a trusted driver and handler of cash, documents, and high-profile individuals connected to networks in “Sin City,” Newport, and Sharonville. I maintained strict ethics: stayed sober, returned dropped cash even when it was thousands scattered in a parking lot, reported what I saw despite personal risks. That gave me front-row insight into coded signaling, plausible deniability, judicial complicity, and how power really operates in the shadows. The same dynamics play out on the national stage today. Democrats aligned themselves with globalism, lockdown legacies, and algorithms that steer information flows. Your smartphone knows more about you than you know about yourself; it micro-processes your world to confirm biases, harvest data, and feed curated realities while eroding independent thought. How do you know your choices are truly free when everything is algorithmically tailored? That’s the modern Berlin Wall: invisible, digital, enforced by elites in tech, media, and academia who believe they know better than working families in Ohio, Pennsylvania, or rural America. Democrats bet heavily on that control, on identity loyalty holding the coalition forever, no matter the results. It failed spectacularly in 2024. 

The autopsy should have said plainly, without the corporate hedging, that Kamala Harris was a weak candidate who couldn’t articulate a compelling vision beyond continuing Biden’s policies. The party had moved too far left for mainstream America. Socialism doesn’t sell in a country built on opportunity, individual agency, and market-driven abundance. Mainstream Americans want capitalism’s full grocery aisles and the dignity of work, not empty promises of equity that deliver higher costs and dependency. They want a flag-flying party proud of the nation’s achievements, not one that seems embarrassed by its history, its founders, or its successes. When voters picture Democrats now, too often it’s radical advocates pushing defund movements or open borders, big-government nannies regulating speech and behavior, or figures promising to run your life while delivering inflation that eats family budgets. Consultants pushed this formula because it fit their worldview—elite, academic, disconnected from the realities of Lakota schools, Butler County commissioner races, or aerospace supply chains where I’ve spent my career. I do live those realities. I’ve raised a family here for decades, watched the river valley change, stayed rooted despite opportunities elsewhere, and engaged in local issues like school levies, tax fights, and community events. These are the people Democrats lost, and the autopsy barely scratches the surface.

And then there’s the elephant in the room that the report refuses to name, the one that makes media platforms and consultants squirm: questions of election integrity and how Democrats have come to rely on systems vulnerable to manipulation. I know this is controversial territory. Many outlets dismiss it outright as conspiracy, but the patterns are visible to anyone willing to look at precinct data, turnout anomalies, and procedural changes. Recently, President Trump walked out of a “Meet the Press” interview because the host wouldn’t engage seriously on ongoing issues in California’s 2026 governor and LA mayor primaries. Votes are still being counted days later, with late mail-in ballots shifting totals in predictable ways—Democratic-leaning drops coming in after initial counts. Extended periods, no strict voter ID tied to real people in the same way as states with reforms, signature verification that’s often cursory, and processes that invite skepticism. They should be able to know the winner on election night or the next day in a clean system, not slow-walk it for weeks with shifting narratives, just like Pennsylvania and Georgia in 2020. Loose laws create opportunities—ballot harvesting, unverifiable drops, dirty rolls that aren’t properly maintained. Trump called it out in real time, and federal investigations have even been announced into aspects of California’s processes. 

In 2020, Biden supposedly pulled over 81 million votes. In 2024, Harris managed around 75 million while Trump increased his haul to over 77 million. Why the dramatic drop for the incumbent party’s successor? Tighter rules in battlegrounds—voter ID requirements, cleaner processes, less reliance on pandemic-era mail floods—limited the old playbook. Democrats couldn’t replicate the overflows. They knew a straight Biden-Trump rematch risked full exposure of those 2020 discrepancies. Dump Biden, install Harris on a short timeline, run a campaign hampered by her record as border czar and inflation architect, lose, then produce the autopsy blaming everything except the foundation. It gave perfect cover: “She wasn’t prepped enough,” “Not enough time to define herself,” “Trump was too strong on the debate stage and in rallies.” Meanwhile, the real story emerging is that free and fair elections under scrutiny favored the party offering choice, results, and sovereignty over control and grievance. Republicans won because they better represented self-interest, family stability, secure borders, affordable energy, and the basics of American life. People want to cut their grass without exorbitant taxes, afford gas to visit family, buy pizza and watch TV with grandkids, hold a good job that pays decently—not be lectured by distant elites on what they should value or how they should speak. 

I’ve studied those precinct maps from 2020 and 2024 extensively. Statistical outliers in bellwether areas, turnout patterns that defied historical correlations, late-night dumps that flipped leads in ways that didn’t match in-person voting trends—these screamed for scrutiny. Courts and media largely looked away, citing procedural technicalities or “no widespread fraud” claims that ignored the cumulative effect of policy changes. For many, January 6 anger wasn’t baseless incitement; it stemmed from deep frustration over a perceived stolen election and being handed a candidate and an agenda they rejected. Democrats invested heavily in fraud-tolerant systems because their ideas—open socialism, wealth redistribution at scale, cultural overhaul—don’t win purely on merit with informed voters anymore. They’ve moved toward control models seen in Venezuela, Cuba, or other places where the process is managed to ensure outcomes. America rejects that in its bones. The autopsy avoids this entirely because admitting even partial reliance on irregularities would shatter their claims to moral and democratic legitimacy. Instead, they produce a document full of half-measures, disclaimers, and annotations questioning its own methodology. It’s political theater designed to let insiders sleep at night. 

Consultants wrote this knowing the score, or at least suspecting it. They take the check, craft language that lets party leaders maintain clean consciences, then retreat to their winter condos in Florida or beach houses paid for by those very fees. I give this kind of analysis away for free because I want righteous outcomes, not to pad corrupt fundraising machines. My track record comes from applying gunfighter discipline—imposing will on circumstances through preparation, precision, resilience, and moral agency. That’s what voters responded to in Trump: a fighter who projects strength and delivers results, not polished victimhood or identity lectures. Democrats’ best offer was more of the same: the hangover from lockdowns, inflation pain that hit working families hardest, border chaos affecting communities, and cultural division that tears at the fabric of society. Even Fetterman adjusted toward practical sense on some issues; the party as a whole has not. They’re too far left, out of touch with the working person’s daily realities in places like Ohio’s manufacturing heartland or aerospace corridors. 

This isn’t isolated to 2024. The working-class flight from Democrats didn’t start with Harris; it accelerated under years of policies prioritizing global agendas, DEI mandates, and identity over kitchen-table economics. Latinos in record numbers, Black voters in key cohorts, young men tired of being told they’re the problem—these groups peeled away by tangible results over empty rhetoric. The party bet that identity would lock in the coalition forever, that guilt, fear, or loyalty would override lived experience. It didn’t. Capitalism has lifted billions globally, including America’s poorest, with abundance, innovation, and mobility that most nations envy. Democrats’ narrative of systemic victimization ignores that success story. People live it daily: jobs in factories, energy sectors, tech-adjacent fields, or my own aerospace world, where problem-solving and excellence are rewarded. They see government overreach as the obstacle, not the salvation. I’ve taught my grandson these lessons through model rocketry—building, launching in bad weather, troubleshooting, recovering—imposing will on circumstances rather than waiting for permission or handouts. 

Algorithms and digital curation only exacerbate the divide. Smartphones and platforms spy constantly, feed tailored realities that reinforce silos, and erode the shared public square needed for genuine democracy. You think your opinions form independently? The data harvesting and recommendation engines suggest otherwise, steering you toward confirmation while selling your attention. Democrats mastered narrative control through legacy media, Big Tech partnerships, and academia—until real life intruded with visible failures: supply chain breakdowns, high prices at the pump and store, urban crime spikes, and a sense that the country was being remade against the will of its citizens. Voters chose the alternative offering agency, borders, energy independence, and normalcy. That’s free will in action under pressure. The autopsy’s glaring silence on core platform failures—socialism versus dynamic markets, globalism versus national sovereignty, grievance versus gratitude—tells you everything. They can’t confront it without dismantling their current brand and power structure.

Expanding on my personal lens here, because these issues aren’t abstract for me. I’ve worn the cowboy hat since third or fourth grade as a declaration of standing apart from fads and rooted in the traditional values of my Kentucky family heritage. The whip I often reference symbolizes discipline, precision, balance from martial arts training, and deterrence—lessons I apply to politics and consulting. In the 1990s Cincinnati scene, I was at City Hall daily through multiple mayors, involved in infrastructure projects like the Kentucky bridge projects, witnessing how deals get made, how influences flow, and how narratives are shaped. I’ve known high-level figures across the spectrum, from local sheriffs to national players, and seen the human element—emotional intelligence or its lack—determine outcomes. Grand jury service taught me about institutional failures, two-tier justice, and the importance of integrity. These experiences inform my view that the Democrat shift isn’t just policy; it’s a cultural and spiritual drift away from what made America exceptional: individual responsibility, family, faith, and opportunity.

Consider the contrast with Republican gains. Trump’s coalition expanded because it spoke to aspiration and protection of the basics. People responded to rallies filled with energy, not scripted celebrity events that felt performative. In Ohio, local races for commissioner, school board, and treasurer—issues like Lakota levies, development debates in Liberty Township, and data centers for future tech and the space economy—show voters prioritizing competence over ideology. Democrats’ alignment with extremes like open socialism repels more than it attracts. Their best people, the true talents, get sidelined for loyalty to the machine. Consultants enable this by providing intellectual cover, reports that sound sophisticated but avoid hard truths. I’ve turned down plenty of opportunities to join that world because selling out for a check erodes the soul. Instead, I share insights like this to support candidates and causes that align with self-reliance and truth-seeking. 

Digging deeper into the autopsy’s shortcomings, as reported, it highlights demographic losses but attributes them to messaging failures rather than to a substantive rejection of the agenda. It notes slippage with non-White communities and younger voters but doesn’t grapple with why policies on the economy, crime, immigration, and education failed to deliver. Harris’s campaign struggled to make an “affirmative case,” couldn’t effectively separate itself from Biden, and was hurt by attacks on issues such as certain social policies. Yet the deeper rot—embrace of ideas that undermine the nuclear family, promote dependency, and view America’s founding as irredeemably flawed—goes unexamined. Progressive independent autopsies like the RootsAction report point to losing millions of 2020 Biden voters as a key failure, yet still frame it through a left lens without questioning the ideological drift. 

In California, as of early June 2026, we see the strategy persisting where laws permit it. Primaries for governor and LA mayor feature slow counts, with mail ballots arriving late, signature checks, and totals shifting over days and weeks. Trump highlighted it, noting investigations by the U.S. Attorney’s Office in LA into structural vulnerabilities. Late Democratic drops narrowing Republican leads echo 2020 patterns. Officials defend it as standard, but the optics fuel distrust. States with robust voter ID, same-day counting where possible, and chain-of-custody saw clearer outcomes favoring the party of results. This isn’t ancient history; it’s live, and it explains why the national autopsy feels like misdirection. Democrats needed Harris as the fall guy to preserve the machine for future cycles, but the trends favor a Republican realignment around commonsense governance. 

I could go on for hours about the cultural degradation angle too, as someone who grew up immersed in 1970s-80s music and witnessed its shift toward hedonism and occult influences. That ties into broader spiritual warfare themes I explore in writing, like The Politics of Heaven, but for this political autopsy, the point is that voters sensed an anti-family, anti-responsibility bent. They want stability for grandkids, model rocketry lessons teaching resilience, not ideological indoctrination in schools. My trips with family to Space Coast, Gettysburg, and the Museum of the Bible reinforce my appreciation for American innovation, history, and faith—things Democrats often critique rather than celebrate.

Consultants on the left (and sometimes right) operate in an echo chamber. They attend the same conferences, read the same journals, and produce reports that confirm priors. Real strategy listens to the people, tests ideas in the marketplace of results, and adapts like Fetterman tried to on select issues. Democrats as a party haven’t. Donors, activists capture them, and a consultant class is invested in perpetual crisis. This leads to candidate after candidate who excites the base in primaries but repels the center and working class in general. Harris was the latest example. Future ones like Newsom risk the same fate unless there’s a fundamental reckoning.

The 2024 loss was predictable to anyone grounded in reality. Voters rejected the direction: high costs, diminished security, eroded freedoms. Republicans offered a corrective—America’s priorities that resonate because they address basics. Midterms ahead will test if the shift holds, but early signs from local races and ongoing California drama suggest Democrats’ problems are structural. People want free will, not managed outcomes. They want prosperity through effort, not redistribution. They want leaders who impose positive will on challenges rather than excuses.

I’ve shared this extended reflection in its raw form because truth-seeking matters more than polished consulting fees. The patterns from my aerospace career, local activism as the “Tax-killer,” family life, and historical study all point the same way. The autopsy is denial. Americans chose agency in 2024, and the trends continue. Democrats lost because they picked the wrong messengers, wrong messages, ignored voter signals, and over-invested in vulnerable systems. The real story, elephant and all, is out there for those willing to see it. People see through the tricks now. They want results, integrity, and liberty. And that, more than any 192-page report, explains the shift and why it’s likely to endure.

Footnotes and sources updated for accuracy.)

Footnotes (expanded selection)

¹ Official DNC autopsy released in May 2026 with disclaimers.

¹⁰ Trump “Meet the Press” walk-off over California questions.

¹² DOJ probes into CA election processes.

²¹ 2024 vote totals confirming Trump’s popular vote win.

And others cross-referenced as above.

Bibliography / Further Reading (updated)

•  Democratic National Committee. Post-Election Analysis. May 20, 2026. democrats.org. 

•  CNN, NYT, Guardian, PBS coverage of the report. 

•  NBC, LA Times, ABC on California 2026 primaries and investigations. 

•  Official 2024 election results from the Presidency Project, Wikipedia, and CNN. 

Rich Hoffman

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About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

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

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