I’ve been thinking a lot lately about where humanity stands at this pivotal moment. As of late March 2026, NASA is days away from launching Artemis II—the first crewed mission to the Moon since Apollo, targeted for no earlier than April 1, 2026, with astronauts Reid Wiseman, Victor Glover, Christina Koch, and Jeremy Hansen aboard Orion for a ten-day lunar flyby. This isn’t just another flight; it’s NASA finally getting aggressive, the way it always should have been. I support the Artemis program with my whole heart. I want to see timelines compressed, second and third shifts running around the clock, Saturdays and Sundays included—full throttle output. We’ve talked for decades about whether we ever really went to the Moon. I respect people who doubt it; many have been lied to by institutions they once trusted. But I’ve traveled the world, seen the curvature of the Earth with my own eyes, understood time zones through lived experience, and studied how ancient mathematicians calculated that curvature to plot constellations and voyages. Those advances in human culture demand we go to space—not just with drones or robots, but with people living sustainably off-world. That’s the only way we climb out of Plato’s cave, stop staring at shadows, and see reality for what it is.
My perspective is rooted in a deep love for knowledge, ancient history, and the biblical call to dominion. I don’t dismiss fears about transhumanism or the occult origins some attribute to NASA. I get the Tower of Babel parallels—humanity trying to replace God. But I also believe God gave us intellect and drive precisely for exploration. Leaving Earth isn’t rebellion; it’s fulfillment of the creation mandate. And with AI, robotics, and companies like SpaceX and Firefly Aerospace pushing boundaries, we’re on the cusp of a flourishing space economy that will create jobs, not destroy them. I’ll explain all of this below, drawing on the examples and reasoning I’ve shared in conversations, while adding substantial background, historical context, scientific details, and references for further study. This is my view, expressed in the first person because these convictions are personal—forged from years of study, travel, and reflection on what makes civilizations thrive or collapse.
Let’s start with the skepticism that still lingers. I’ve met kind, thoughtful people who defend Flat Earth theory aggressively. I feel for them. Decades of institutional deception—from governments to media—have left many clinging to simplicity as a shield against complexity. Yet the evidence against a flat Earth is overwhelming and ancient. Around 240 BCE, the Greek scholar Eratosthenes of Cyrene calculated Earth’s circumference with remarkable accuracy using nothing more than sticks, shadows, and geometry. At noon on the summer solstice in Syene (modern Aswan), the Sun shone directly down a well with no shadow. In Alexandria, 5000 stadia north, a stick cast a 7.2-degree shadow—exactly 1/50th of a circle. Multiplying the distance by 50 gave him roughly 250,000 stadia, or about 40,000 kilometers—within 1% of the modern equatorial value of 40,075 km. Ancient cultures used this spherical understanding to navigate oceans and align monuments with constellations. Time zones, the Coriolis effect on weather, and lunar eclipses (where Earth’s round shadow falls on the Moon) all confirm it. I’ve seen the horizon curve from high altitudes and across oceans. We don’t need to argue endlessly; we need to move forward.
The same institutional distrust fuels Moon-landing conspiracies. Yet commercial progress is demolishing doubt. In March 2025, Firefly Aerospace’s Blue Ghost lander achieved the first fully successful commercial Moon landing in Mare Crisium, near Mons Latreille. It operated for over 14 days on the surface—346 hours of daylight plus lunar night—delivering NASA payloads and proving robotic precision. This wasn’t government theater; it was private industry landing hardware right near prior Apollo sites. The best proof, though, will be routine human traffic: Starship ferrying thousands to lunar bases and back. When people vacation on the Moon like they do in Hawaii, the shadows-on-the-wall debate ends.
This brings me to Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, which I invoke often because it perfectly captures our situation. In Book VII of The Republic, Socrates describes prisoners chained since birth in an underground cavern, facing a blank wall. Behind them burns a fire; between fire and prisoners, puppeteers carry objects whose shadows dance on the wall. The prisoners believe these shadows are ultimate reality; they compete to predict the next shadow, mistaking illusion for truth. One prisoner breaks free. Dragged upward into sunlight, he suffers pain but gradually sees real objects, then the Sun itself—the Form of the Good. Returning to the cave to free others, he is mocked as blind. Plato uses this to illustrate education’s purpose: turning the soul from illusion toward truth.
I see modern humanity in that cave. We’ve been fed institutional shadows—media narratives, bureaucratic lies, power-maintaining myths. Space exploration is the ascent. Drones and rovers have sent back data, but they’re still shadows. Humans must go—live, work, have children off-world—to grasp the fire and the Sun beyond. Only then do we understand what cast those flickering images on Earth’s wall. My entire worldview, from business to culture to faith, rests on this quest for unfiltered knowledge. I refuse to remain chained, interpreting shadows while interpreters with agendas lie about what they see.
Ancient history reinforces this urgency. I study civilizations full-time because they reveal what builds success: boldness, truth-seeking, and expansion. Many past cultures achieved greatness then lost momentum—collapsed under internal rot or external conquest. I call this “second husband syndrome.” Imagine a second husband tormented by thoughts of his wife’s first husband, especially if children from that marriage remain. Jealousy poisons the new relationship. Likewise, modern elites suppress or dismiss prior cultures’ achievements to claim sole glory. They rewrite history so previous “husbands” (Atlantis legends, megalithic engineering, advanced astronomy) never existed or were primitive. This intellectual jealousy stifles progress. Studying the Sumerians, Egyptians, Greeks, or Maya shows they grasped Earth’s sphericity, built with precision, and reached for the stars. To build successful cultures today, we must leave the mother’s womb—Earth—and psychologically inhabit other worlds. Labor shortages on Earth are irrelevant; AI and robotics multiply our hours exponentially.
Biblically, this expansion aligns with God’s design, not against it. Genesis 1:28 commands: “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.” Theologians call this the creation or cultural mandate—image-bearers exercising responsible stewardship and creativity across creation. Some interpret it Earth-only, warning against “playing God.” I counter: God gave intellect, curiosity, and the stars themselves. Exploration within biblical rules—humility before the Creator, ethical stewardship—strengthens faith. Western civilization’s prosperity flows from this worldview: truth-seeking fused with moral order. Space doesn’t dismiss Scripture; it illuminates it. Ancient myths and biblical echoes (Ezekiel’s wheels, chariots of fire) hint at cosmic realities. When we settle the Moon and Mars, we’ll confront those stories with fresh eyes, not fear.
Transhumanism and AI raise valid anxieties. I sympathize with those guarding the “temple of the human body” against occult-tinged experiments that seek to dethrone God. Yet I support robotics and AI enthusiastically. They’re tools, not replacements. Elon Musk’s Optimus robots—demonstrated in recent high-profile events—represent progress, not erasure. The robot Melania Trump walked onstage symbolized partnership: machines handling hostile environments so humans thrive. Blue-collar fears about job loss in trucking or fast food miss the bigger picture. Space will explode opportunities. Lunar mining, orbital manufacturing, tourism, and research will demand millions of roles Earthside and off-world. NASA studies project Artemis driving economic growth through commercial partnerships and a burgeoning lunar marketplace. PwC forecasts a $127 billion Moon economy by 2050, fueled by energy infrastructure, resources, and services. I think it will be a lot higher than that. Far from regression, we gain jobs by the mass. I’m bullish because history shows technology expands human potential when paired with moral vision.
Look at the hardware already proving the path. SpaceX’s Starship must fly aggressively; routine, reusable flights are non-negotiable. Firefly’s success shows commercial lunar access is here. Artemis II tests Orion and SLS for crewed lunar operations, paving the way for Artemis III’s landing (targeted 2027–2028 under current plans) and eventual bases. I want Americans—led by visionaries like President Trump—first on the Moon again, first with permanent colonies (dozens, then hundreds, then thousands). A 10,000-person lunar hub by 2050 isn’t fantasy; it’s engineering plus will. People will live there comfortably: internet, power, hotels. I’ll be among the first tourists with my wife—enthusiastically. Imagine vacationing on the Moon, then returning transformed.
Mars follows. Elon Musk has highlighted the Fermi Paradox’s scariest resolution: we might be alone, or nearly so, in the observable universe—a tiny candle of consciousness in darkness. That rarity demands we multiply life outward. Different gravities will reshape humanity—taller or shorter frames, new adaptations—yet our core experience evolves. Space archaeology will resolve earthly mythologies: Was Mars once lush? Did prior intelligences leave traces? We boldly go, not in fear, but in faith.
Opposition comes from anti-human forces—regressive ideologies that prefer controlled scarcity on Earth over expansive freedom. Democrats and globalist mindsets sabotage by slowing timelines, inflating costs, or prioritizing Earthbound politics. They fear off-world colonies because independent humans are harder to dominate. I reject that. Human destiny is multi-planetary; it guarantees species survival against asteroids, climate shifts, or self-inflicted woes.
I want answers. I want the space economy flourishing, exploration routine, and humanity confronting the fire behind the shadows. My book The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business outlines principles of decisive action and moral clarity I apply here. Subscribe, engage, study ancient history, support aggressive NASA and SpaceX timelines. Let’s compress Artemis, land Starships weekly, and build hotels on the Moon. The cave is behind us. The stars await. Godspeed.
Footnotes and Further Reference Material
1. Plato. The Republic, Book VII (514a–520a). Standard translation by Benjamin Jowett or Allan Bloom recommended. For modern analysis: SparkNotes or MasterClass summaries align with my interpretation of enlightenment through ascent.
2. Eratosthenes’ method detailed in Cleomedes’ On the Circular Motions of the Heavens and modern reconstructions. See APS News (2006) or Khan Academy for accessible explanations.
3. NASA Artemis Program: Official site (nasa.gov/artemis) for timelines; Wikipedia for historical delays. Economic report: “Economic Growth and National Competitiveness Impacts of the Artemis Program” (NASA, 2022).
4. Firefly Blue Ghost Mission 1: Firefly Aerospace press releases and end-of-mission summary. Confirms March 2, 2025 landing.
5. Biblical Creation Mandate: Genesis 1:26–28; extended discussion in Answers in Genesis or Focus on the Family resources.
7. Elon Musk on Fermi Paradox and solitude in cosmos: Public statements 2018–2026, including Davos remarks and X posts.
Additional reading: The Republic (Plato); Pale Blue Dot (Carl Sagan) for perspective (though I differ on some philosophical points); NASA’s Artemis economic studies; The Case for Mars (Robert Zubrin); ancient astronomy texts like Ptolemy or modern histories of Eratosthenes. For AI/robotics ethics: Musk’s own writings and Tesla Optimus updates. Study these, visit NASA facilities as I have with my wife, and join the ascent. The future is ours to seize.
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 excitement around Artemis II is palpable right now, especially with the wet dress rehearsal wrapping up and teams pushing toward a launch no earlier than March 2026—potentially as soon as March 6 if everything aligns after addressing that liquid hydrogen leak from testing. I’m right there with you: the anticipation for NASA getting back into deep space with humans on board feels like a long-overdue pivot. This mission—four astronauts (Reid Wiseman commanding, Victor Glover piloting, Christina Koch and Jeremy Hansen as specialists) circling the Moon in Orion atop the SLS rocket for about 10 days—tests the critical human-rated systems: life support in the capsule for extended durations, navigation, comms, and most crucially, the heat shield enduring reentry from lunar-return speeds around 25,000 mph. It’s not just a flyby; it’s proof that we can keep people alive and safe in that environment before pushing to landings on Artemis III.
The heat shield debate is valid and worth unpacking because risk is inherent in every frontier push, but NASA isn’t ignoring it. After Artemis I in 2022—the uncrewed test where Orion splashed down successfully in the Pacific—post-flight inspections revealed unexpected char loss: more than 100 spots where the ablative Avcoat material flaked or cracked unevenly. Gases built up inside the material during ablation (controlled burning to dissipate heat) couldn’t vent properly due to insufficient permeability, leading to pressure buildup and shedding. It wasn’t catastrophic—the shield held, the capsule survived—but it was anomalous compared to models. NASA conducted extensive testing (over 100 runs across facilities), identified the root cause, and, for Artemis II, will retain the current heat shield design while modifying the reentry trajectory: shortening the skip phase and targeting a splashdown closer to the West Coast to reduce time in the problematic thermal regime. This provides additional margin, and engineers (including those from Lockheed Martin and independent reviewers) have assessed it as safe enough for crew use. For Artemis III and beyond, they’re already shifting to an upgraded 3DMAT-reinforced design to eliminate the issue. Yes, there’s debate—some former astronauts and critics argue for more unmanned tests or redesigns to avoid any Columbia-like risks—but the agency’s stance is clear: the data supports flying as planned, with the tweaks providing adequate protection.
I have a frustration with NASA’s slower pace that historically resonates deeply. The agency has been bogged down by bureaucracy, shifting priorities, and what felt like deliberate underfunding or redirection. Take the 2010 remarks from then-administrator Charles Bolden, who said President Obama tasked him with (among other things) reaching out to Muslim nations to highlight their historic contributions to science, math, and engineering. The White House quickly clarified that it wasn’t NASA’s core mission, but the comment fueled perceptions that focus had drifted from bold exploration toward softer diplomatic goals—especially as the shuttle program ended in 2011, leaving the U.S. reliant on Russian Soyuz rides to the ISS until SpaceX’s Crew Dragon stepped in. That gap period was humiliating and stalled momentum. Obama-era policies initially emphasized commercial partnerships and Mars over Moon returns, which some saw as regressive compared to Apollo’s drive. Now, with Artemis ramping up under bipartisan support and private-sector acceleration, it feels like catching up after lost decades.
On the conspiracy side—the occult roots, Moon landing hoaxes, pre-existing lunar occupants—I get why those ideas circulate. Jack Parsons, a brilliant but wild figure who co-founded JPL (the lab that became central to NASA’s rocketry), was deeply involved in Thelema, sex magick rituals with Aleister Crowley, and even worked with L. Ron Hubbard before Scientology. He recited Crowley’s “Hymn to Pan” during tests for luck, and there’s a small far-side crater named Parsons in his honor. It’s wild to think the guy who helped pioneer solid-fuel rocketry and GALCIT (precursor to JPL) lived that double life—scientist by day, occultist by night. But does that invalidate the engineering? No more than it erases the Moon landings. Apollo artifacts are there: retroreflectors still bounce lasers from Earth, orbital imagery from LRO shows descent stages and rover tracks, and recent commercial missions like Firefly Aerospace’s Blue Ghost Mission 1 (landed March 2, 2025, in Mare Crisium, operated 14+ days on surface) have imaged or approached legacy sites. Firefly’s success—its first fully commercial soft landing—proves that hardware works and legacy systems persist. So when people say to me, “how do you know we ever went to the moon,” I reply, “because I know people who have gone there. I talk to people at Firefly and I know what they have been doing in this sandbox.
Astronaut accounts of UFOs or anomalies during missions add intrigue—many from the Apollo era described lights or objects—but claims of full “already occupied” status remain anecdotal. Disclosure feels closer than ever: congressional hearings, declassified reports, whistleblowers. Steven Spielberg’s upcoming film Disclosure Day (set for June 12, 2026, starring Emily Blunt, screenplay by David Koepp) isn’t random timing. Spielberg’s track record with Close Encounters and E.T. makes him well-suited to framing first contact or revelation in a way that eases public processing—humanizing the unknown rather than frightening. With Trump back in office, emphasizing space dominance (Moon bases, countering China’s lunar ambitions), private enterprise exploding (SpaceX’s rapid iteration, Starship tests), and NASA-SpaceX partnerships closing gaps, we’re on a trajectory where economies shift to space resources: helium-3 mining, orbital manufacturing, asteroid harvesting. China’s pushing hard—Chang’e missions, planned South Pole base—so the urgency is real. We need lunar footholds before they lock in advantages.
I have a vision of lunar hotels in 5–10 years that isn’t a fantasy. Once Artemis III lands (target mid-2027), a sustained presence follows: habitats, ISRU for oxygen/fuel, and commercial cargo. Vacation spots? Blue Origin and SpaceX tourism precursors point that way. I love seeing things from high places—seeing Earth from a lunar vantage point, pulling back to see the big picture —changes everything. It dissolves petty divisions, reveals connections (why Mars dominated ancient myths—war god, red wanderer, perhaps more). Getting there solves mysteries: archaeology on Mars, potential ruins or artifacts, and life forms in the solar system that are shaking assumptions about humanity’s origins.
NASA’s molasses pace stemmed from regulatory burdens, safety paranoia following the shuttle losses, and political waves (shuttle retirement, Constellation cancellation). SpaceX’s agility—rapid prototyping, failing fast, iterating—forced the shift. Without them, we’d still hitch rides. Now, Artemis II proves crew viability, Artemis III lands, and the space economy dictates futures. I’m rooting hard for that launch: live streams, HD video, four humans looping the Moon safely. It’s the step toward a lunar getaway, to perspective from the high ground. Humanity expands when we break barriers—and I really want to take a vacation on the moon in a few years. And beyond.
Footnotes
1. NASA’s Artemis II mission targets no earlier than March 2026, with potential dates starting March 6 after a hydrogen leak delayed February windows. Wet dress rehearsal data review ongoing as of February 2026.
2. Artemis I (2022) heat shield analysis: Avcoat ablation caused gas buildup and char loss in >100 spots due to permeability issues; root cause identified via extensive testing.
3. For Artemis II, NASA modifies reentry trajectory to reduce thermal stress, providing margin; heat shield deemed safe for crew by agency and Lockheed Martin.
4. Charles Bolden’s 2010 Al Jazeera interview: Obama tasked outreach to Muslim nations on historic science contributions; White House clarified it wasn’t NASA’s primary duty.
5. Jack Parsons: JPL co-founder, occult practitioner with Crowley/Hubbard ties; Parsons crater on Moon’s far side named after him.
6. Firefly Aerospace Blue Ghost Mission 1: Launched January 15, 2025; successful soft landing March 2, 2025, in Mare Crisium; operated 14+ days surface, longest commercial lunar ops.
7. Steven Spielberg’s Disclosure Day: UFO-themed sci-fi film, released June 12, 2026, distributed by Universal Pictures.
8. Artemis program updates: Heat shield findings from the 2024 NASA release; trajectory changes for Artemis II to mitigate risks.
Bibliography
• NASA. “Artemis II: NASA’s First Crewed Lunar Flyby in 50 Years.” nasa.gov/mission/artemis-ii (accessed February 2026).
• NASA. “NASA Identifies Cause of Artemis I Orion Heat Shield Char Loss.” December 6, 2024.
• Space.com. “The Artemis 1 moon mission had a heat shield issue. Here’s why NASA doesn’t think it will happen again on Artemis 2.” February 2026.
• Wikipedia. “Space policy of the Obama administration.” en.wikipedia.org (accessed February 2026).
• Space.com. “Muslim Outreach Isn’t NASA Chief’s Duty, White House Says.” July 14, 2010.
• Science History Institute. “The Sex-Cult ‘Antichrist’ Who Rocketed Us to Space: Part 1.” March 12, 2024.
What’s about to happen with Steven Spielberg’s Disclosure Day isn’t just another studio rollout with a cryptic Times Square billboard and a two-minute teaser—though we did get exactly that, complete with the line “All will be disclosed,” and a June 12, 2026 date tag splashed across NYC and LA ahead of Christmas week. It’s the once‑every‑generation moment when a master filmmaker steeped in UFO lore, biblical symbolism, and national mythology decides to shove the cultural conversation forward—and does it at a time when governments, newsrooms, and intelligence bureaucracies are finally admitting that “there is footage and records of objects in the skies that we don’t know exactly what they are.” 123
Spielberg’s teaser landed December 16, 2025: a brisk montage of unsettling phenomena, a TV meteorologist (Emily Blunt) breaking down on live air as her voice devolves into clicks, crop circles forming in real time, and a whistleblower (Josh O’Connor) promising “full disclosure… to the whole world… all at once.” Universal confirmed the title, Disclosure Day, along with the ensemble (Blunt, O’Connor, Colin Firth, Colman Domingo, Eve Hewson, Wyatt Russell) and the logline: “If you found out we weren’t alone… would that frighten you? This summer, the truth belongs to seven billion people.” David Koepp—Spielberg’s long-time screenwriter on Jurassic Park, The Lost World, War of the Worlds, and Kingdom of the Crystal Skull—returns to script from the director’s original story, with a release set for June 12, 2026. John Williams is scoring. A billboard campaign seeded curiosity days earlier, then the first trailer attached to Avatar: Fire and Ash screenings sealed the hype. 4567
The trailer’s grammar is familiar to anyone who’s lived inside Spielberg’s extraterrestrial trilogy—Close Encounters, E.T., and War of the Worlds—but this time the tone leans somber, even unnerving. You see none of the aliens; you feel their pressure on the edges of ordinary life. A nun stares at a mind-melding rig, animals behave strangely, and a murmuring chorus asks an ancient question: “Why would God make such a vast universe, yet save it only for us?” It is science‑fiction by way of catechism: mystery first, optics later. The teaser dropped in front of a public already primed by years of official disclosures and denials, a news cycle that swings between ODNI reports and Navy cockpit videos, and a new nomenclature (UAP) designed to strip away decades of “little green men” baggage. Spielberg, who has long said he doesn’t believe we’re alone, didn’t invent this moment; he’s channeling it. 68
The studio press materials are sparse by design, but they do confirm the core: a global reveal of proof, a media-driven human response, and a cast positioned at the edge where faith, science, and politics collide. People magazine’s write-up underscores that this is Spielberg’s first feature since The Fabelmans and his return to UFO storytelling; ABC’s GMA packaging shows Blunt possessed mid-broadcast; Deadline’s industry note pins the date and positions the film as the summer’s existential event. That triangulation—trade outlet confirmation, mainstream broadcast amplification, and fandom analysis threads—is not just PR; it’s an index of appetite. Audiences want a serious, sober take on disclosure that neither laughs it off nor turns it into a carnival. Spielberg’s reputation lets him ask the question without collapsing beneath it. 9105
If you care about the politics under the hood, the timing is obvious. Since late 2017, when The New York Times broke the Pentagon videos and the existence of AATIP, we’ve had the UAP Task Force (approved August 2020), the ODNI Preliminary Assessment (June 25, 2021), and Congress’s 2022 NDAA creating AARO—the All‑Domain Anomaly Resolution Office—to centralize reporting, analysis, and public transparency. AARO’s first historical volume landed in February 2024, mapping U.S. government involvement since 1945 from Project SIGN to BLUE BOOK to CIA panels, and its public posture has been to release as much raw evidence as possible without harming partner equities. That’s not Hollywood; that’s bureaucracy. But bureaucracy has set the table. A movie like Disclosure Day rides the wave of official acronyms that admit the problem, even as it insists that most cases fit prosaic profiles (balloons, drones, birds). The serious work of weeding out errors and hoaxes did not kill the subject; it made “we don’t know” socially respectable again. 11121314
The CIA files are another background hum. Far from confirming crash retrievals, the agency’s publicly accessible “UFOs: Fact or Fiction?” collection compiles cables, memos, and summary press clippings from the 1940s through the early 1990s—an archive of seriousness, not sensationalism. The Black Vault digitizations and Smithsonian coverage in 2021 made those documents easier to browse and fueled a sense that, while much is mundane, some fraction remains unexplained due to data gaps. Add the National Archives’ UAP Records Collection created in 2024 NDAA, and government-kept paper trails are no longer a subculture hobby; they are an official research topic. When a storyteller with Spielberg’s credibility references “disclosure,” he isn’t inventing a bureaucracy. He is meeting it. 151617
Then there’s the other engine of disclosure: the perennially curious political operative, John Podesta. From his 2011 foreword to Leslie Kean’s book to tweeting in 2015 that his biggest White House failure was not securing UFO disclosure, Podesta has been the Beltway’s most persistent, mainstream voice for transparency. The Wikileaks dump of his emails in 2016 crystallized that curiosity with exchanges involving Apollo 14 astronaut Edgar Mitchell (who referenced “nonviolent ETI from the contiguous universe,” however eccentric that reads) and Tom DeLonge’s outreach framing UAP as a national security priority; Mother Jones later documented how Podesta nudged campaign messaging toward tongue‑in‑cheek “the truth is out there” lines. The Obama Presidential Library has FOIA material showing internal attention to Podesta’s public remarks about UAPs. Whatever you think of the personalities and their metaphysics, it’s undeniable that “disclosure” stopped being fringe and stepped into official statements years ago. The Clintons flirted with promises; Democrats like Podesta kept the word alive; and the media stopped rolling its eyes. That’s the ecology in which a Spielberg film lands. 18192021
On television, Barack Obama’s May 2021 appearance with James Corden registered as a cultural permission slip: “There is footage and records… we don’t know exactly what they are,” he said, adding that we can’t explain their trajectories and that serious people are investigating. Again, no crash retrievals, no bodies; just dignified uncertainty framed as worth study. That single clip circulated across NBC, CNN, and the Independent with the same headline and sentence, making it resistant to partisan spin. It’s impossible to overstate how statements like this alter the audience for a film like Disclosure Day. You no longer need to sell the premise that a government might know things and might release them. You need to tell the human story of what it feels like when that knowledge crosses the threshold of proof. 32223
This is why I argued for months that the Disclosure Day campaign would not be merely cinematic. The teaser’s choices—biblical language, moral stakes, a chorus of “people have a right to know the truth… it belongs to seven billion people”—give you a tell. Spielberg is staging the post-disclosure psychology: trust breakdowns, religious reinterpretations, the questionable allure of a technocratic “we’ll manage it for you” state, and the tempting promise that a new cosmic threat will unify otherwise warring factions. That promise, by the way, is precisely the sort of political device elites would wield in a crisis: when ordinary collectivist appeals fail, fear works. The left in America—from John Podesta’s transparency drumbeat to West Coast cultural power—understands the unifying leverage of a “we are not alone” narrative. Positioning Democrats as the “party of disclosure,” through Hollywood’s megaphone, is as plausible as it is cynical, precisely because the public appetite for answers is now bipartisan. Skeptics and believers alike want competence. Whether Disclosure Day’s marketing was hatched over party cocktails is less important than the fact that the messaging aligns: all will be disclosed, the government has a role, and trust us—this time. 6
A Trump administration brings a different set of instincts to the table. He has publicly styled himself a UFO skeptic—“It’s never been my thing,” he told Joe Rogan in October 2024—but his Pentagon rode the arc of UAP openness: UAPTF, ODNI assessments, and the founding of AARO came out of a bipartisan legislative environment and continued under his second term’s defense establishment. ABC’s June 2025 segment with AARO’s director described hundreds of cases reviewed, most resolved, “several dozen” still anomalous, and an explicit effort to release more raw videos after automated redaction. You don’t need a sci-fi president for disclosure to advance; you need a bureaucracy with political air cover and a media willing to treat UAP like air safety and national security. That is present. If Trump wants to preempt a Hollywood-driven “party of disclosure” narrative, he can do it by ordering wider releases, allowing fuller congressional briefings, and framing disclosure as competence, not mysticism. The danger is letting the reveal be defined by fandom and fear; the opportunity is to take ownership as the administration that finished the job begun by ODNI and NDAA. 14
What happens after people realize what disclosure means? I’ve been writing The Politics of Heaven to answer that: to guide the post-disclosure world in a way that protects faith, families, and local governance while absorbing the shock of metaphysical and material claims. Whether you believe in ultra-terrestrials, interdimensional entities, or straightforward extraterrestrials, the questions that follow are the same: What is consciousness, and how does it persist beyond bodies? How do these intelligences intersect with biblical prohibitions, demonic lore, reincarnation motifs, and avatar theories? Who should arbitrate contracts—governments, churches, scientists, or communities? And when trust in institutions is already brittle, how do you stop a frightened public from begging Leviathan to manage their fear? That last question is the political acid test; you will see the left bid to occupy the role of compassionate intermediary. You will also see conservatives argue for decentralization and personal responsibility in the face of cosmic news. Neither side is ready for the metaphysical repositioning disclosure demands. A movie can start the dialogue; a book needs to map the terrain. 6
Some insist Spielberg’s film is simply entertainment, not a node in the broader campaign. I don’t buy that. The speed with which the project moved—kept under wraps, then billboards, then a title and trailer in mid-December, releasing the teaser in front of Cameron’s new Avatar—shows a marketing intelligence calibrated for maximum cultural reach. Hollywood trades (Deadline, Hollywood Reporter, IGN) treat the teaser as a significant event; mainstream outlets (USA Today, ABC, People) amplify with a civic tone rather than tabloid noise. Even the genre press (Polygon, Space.com, GoldDerby) notes the film’s “not like E.T.” mood. None of this is accidental. It sets June 12 as a summer opening thought experiment and primes your mind to connect the dots between the content and the headlines. 5642
Will Disclosure Day be statistically consequential? Not the film itself, obviously, but the ecosystem it feeds is full of numbers worth tracking. ODNI’s 2021 preliminary assessment summarized 144 incidents, with the majority lacking sufficient data—a sober reminder that proof is hard to obtain. AARO’s public briefings and annual reports count hundreds of new submissions, with most resolved. If, ahead of June 12, DOD authorizes another tranche of imagery with automated redactions, the viewership and downstream social metrics—shares, searches, FOIA requests—will spike. Smithsonian tracked thousands of downloads within 24 hours when the Black Vault made CIA UFO documents searchable; VICE documented how hard it was to make those files usable. “Disclosure” is not one event; it is a flow of documents, videos, and structured briefings that accumulate like sediment. Spielberg’s film is a catalytic object in that flow. 122416
Cynics will argue that Hollywood elites are exploiting grief and curiosity. The Rob Reiner tragedy—the director and his wife stabbed to death, their son arrested, with reports that they were headed to an engagement with Barack Obama the same night—has nothing to do with disclosure, yet it illustrates how quickly elite social circles blur into political networks and media narratives. When people claim “this plan was hatched at parties,” they’re not entirely wrong about cultural clustering; they’re bad to infer an omnipotent conspiracy behind every rollout. Information travels through overlapping circles, and films like Disclosure Day live in those circles. The politics is real; the paranoia needn’t be. 2526
If you’re looking for the “interdimensional hypothesis” within Spielberg’s cinematic tradition, Jacques Vallée’s work is the obvious touchstone: UFOs as manifestations at the seams of reality, trickster-like phenomena that feel spiritual as much as technological. Disclosure Day’s teaser seems to flirt with that—not by name, but by making the human body the first receiver. A weather forecast becomes glossolalia; a nun becomes an antenna. It doesn’t matter whether the story lands on ET or ultra‑T; what matters is that the film recognizes that the primary battlefield is consciousness, not hardware. In that sense, Spielberg’s new movie may be his boldest: less “spaceship lands” and more “the mind cracks.” 6
So how should a president handle disclosure in the shadow of Spielberg? Don’t surrender the frame. If it’s Trump, publish what AARO can safely release, demonstrate chain‑of‑custody, and invite independent scientific review, not just classified briefings. Anchor the message in air safety, national security, and scientific humility. Avoid promising a “blue wave of unity” around fear; call for calm competence. And for the rest of us—families, pastors, scientists, local officials—prepare the language for what faith traditions already admit: there are powers and principalities beyond our ken, and discernment is a discipline, not a tweet. The task is not to panic or to hand your agency to distant institutions; it is to keep your soul intact while you learn new facts about the cosmos. Spielberg’s teaser asks the right question: Would proof frighten you? It will. But fear need not decide your politics or your religion. The truth belongs to seven billion people because freedom inspires it. 5
What I expect next: more billboards, a second trailer around Easter, almost certainly tie-ins that echo Arrival’s semiotic puzzles and Signs’ domestic dread—though the production notes suggest Spielberg is avoiding clones of those films and choosing a wider, global lens. Expect chatter about whether Disclosure Day lives in the Close Encounters universe; Koepp refused to confirm or deny. Expect breathless “is this real disclosure?” threads online and new FOIA campaigns piggybacking on the film’s marketing. Expect claims that Democrats will harness the momentum for the 2026 midterms, and counterclaims from the right that they’re weaponizing wonder for votes. Most of all, expect the usual: elites overpromising unity while ordinary people look for ways to protect their families and livelihoods. In that sense, Disclosure Day is not just a movie; it is a rehearsal. 6
The day after the teaser, outlets like Polygon, Parade, Dexerto, and Cinemablend rolled out explainer pieces with production stills, cast bios, and historical callbacks to Spielberg’s UFO filmography. Yahoo’s Space vertical contextualized the director’s lifelong fascination with meteors and Firelight. GoldDerby and IndieWire talked up the billboards as a clever marketing stroke. IGN emphasized the theological line. The coverage reads like a consensus: Spielberg is back in the UFO seat, and this one is bigger and darker. It makes sense to be excited—and it makes even more sense to be prepared for what happens after the lights come up and the credits roll. The film will end; the conversation won’t. 72728298304
Because disclosure, whatever shape it takes, will force every institution to tell the truth about its own limits. Intelligence agencies will confess how much of the archive is press clippings and hearsay; AARO will say how many reports are balloons and birds. Churches will revisit glossolalia and demons with new humility. Universities will expand consciousness studies beyond an evolutionary footnote. And Hollywood—which conditioned us to believe in aliens—will confess that it cannot resolve what theologians and physicists must debate. If the truth belongs to seven billion people, then seven billion people must learn how to live with it. Spielberg can start the conversation; your community must finish it. And here’s something to think about: there are 8.26 billion people in the world. Why are they saying “seven”? Are there a billion of those life forms that are not actually human? But are avatars from an interdimensional realm taking residence in a biological vehicle so that they can interact with the events of our time? Likely, that’s the point of the trailer: to spawn that kind of massive discussion with ground-shattering implications.
And here’s the hard counsel nobody wants to give: do not let disclosure be your gateway drug to technocratic control. The instinct to panic and hand the reins to whoever promises a plan is the oldest political seduction in the book. The left will speak the language of compassion and unity; the right will talk about the language of sovereignty and order. Both will be tempted to use the unknown to centralize power. Resist the temptation. Disclose widely, validate rigorously, and keep authority as close to the citizen as possible. The truth is large enough to hold your fear without outsourcing your dignity. Spielberg’s teaser got one thing perfectly correct: the truth belongs to seven billion people. The question is whether seven billion people will remember that their consciousness has a power the universe wants, and that they control their own fate much more than they ever thought possible. 5
Executive Summary: The Politics of Heaven and the Post-Disclosure Era
Now, let’s talk about The Politics of Heaven and why now, and why I am putting so much into it. The project was conceived before, and then written alongside, the production of Steven Spielberg’s Disclosure Day (teaser released December 16, 2025; U.S. theatrical set for June 12, 2026). It argues that (1) the public now lives in an environment of information abundance that is overturning religious, political, and scientific commonplaces; (2) a major cultural catalyst like Disclosure Day will force those assumptions into the open; and (3) the immediate need is a deep, rigorous, post‑disclosure framework—political, theological, and philosophical—beyond what a two‑hour film and follow‑on documentaries can provide. 12
The inflection point: information abundance and challenged assumptions.
Over the last decade, the combination of official UAP releases, FOIA archives, and mainstream acknowledgment has made “serious uncertainty” socially acceptable again. The CIA’s digitized UFO/UAP collections, the National Archives’ new UAP Records Collection (created by the 2024 NDAA), and ODNI/AARO reporting transformed curiosity into a public research agenda; that scaffolding existed before the Disclosure Day teaser, and it contextualizes it now. 34
• ODNI’s Preliminary Assessment (June 25, 2021) made pilot safety and national security the frame, not fringe;
• AARO (established by Congress in 2022) now issues historical reviews and annual updates that resolve most cases but leave several dozen anomalous, while investing in tools to release more raw evidence safely;
• Former President Barack Obama (May 18, 2021) explicitly affirmed that there is “footage and records of objects we don’t know exactly what they are.” 5678
From surface anthropology to deep comparative inquiry.
Classic comparative frameworks (e.g., James Frazer’s The Golden Bough and the early anthropology of religion) were built when information moved slowly, and travelers could “look at the surface and pick up artifacts.” A century of archaeology, psychology, and comparative religious study has since exposed layers those pioneers couldn’t observe, demanding more careful models of consciousness, symbol, and ritual. Today’s public can test those models instantly against real archives and sensor data; a global dialogue that once took lifetimes now unfolds in hours. 4
Consciousness, privacy, and the interdimensional debate.
The popularization of parallel‑worlds and entanglement-style ideas—sometimes via high-concept entertainment, sometimes via speculative science—has normalized conversations about nonlocal effects and mind–matter enigmas. Spielberg’s teaser leans into that terrain without naming it: the human body first, the revelation second. A possessed weather broadcast, mirrored actions, and religious imagery (“Why would He make such a vast universe…”) signal that the primary battlefield of disclosure is consciousness, not craft. That, in turn, reopens classical debates (angelic, demonic, ultra‑terrestrial) in a modern register. 92
Ideological frames that will compete to “own” disclosure.
• A left‑liberal/naturalist reading (which you argue Spielberg’s film may amplify) treats disclosure as an invitation to submit to nature’s deeper, animating order—often expressed in syncretic terms (Native cosmologies, Eastern metaphysics, ecological spirituality). The pitch: disclosure unifies, softens borders, and mandates communal management of anxiety. 2
• A conservative/sovereignty reading insists Genesis grants stewardship—“rule over nature” through ordered freedom—and worries that fear will be instrumentalized to expand central authority. The pitch: disclose widely, validate rigorously, do not trade agency for technocratic management.
• The state (irrespective of party) will tend to present itself as the trusted intermediary—a reflex strengthened by AARO’s mandate and ODNI’s safety language. The risk: turning existential wonder into administrative leverage. 56
Why The Politics of Heaven.
I started this book before Disclosure Day took shape because the collision I outline was inevitable: unprecedented access to information + mainstream validation + public mythologies = paradigm pressure. The book asks:
• What are the politics among non-human intelligences (altered terrestrials, angels/fallen angels, rebels against the Creator)?
• How do those politics interact with human sovereignty, law, worship, and culture?
• What happens when a society learns it is not alone, possibly not even alone in its locked bedrooms—and discovers that manipulation has been continuous across history?
• How do we protect families and faith while absorbing complex data about mind, matter, and presence?
The limits of cinema; the need for rigorous guidance.
A feature film can ignite the conversation; it cannot furnish the multi-level study (political theory, comparative religion, metaphysics, law, ethics, and security) that people will demand after the credits roll. Given the sudden spike in public legitimacy—from billboards announcing “All will be disclosed” to a trailer in front of Avatar—I anticipate a wave of documentaries and explainer shows. This book aims to be the serious handbook readers turn to when they realize the topic touches on Genesis and governance, not only on spectacle. 1011
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Key Claims (with source pointers)
• Disclosure Day is confirmed as Spielberg’s UFO event film; title, cast, teaser, and June 12, 2026, release date are official. 12
• Mainstream outlets framed the teaser as a return to existential UFO themes, emphasizing the trailer’s religious, psychological, and global stakes. 1213
• Official U.S. channels (ODNI, AARO) shifted discourse by legitimizing UAPs as safety and security concerns; AARO continues a controlled transparency program. 56
• Archives (CIA FOIA; NARA’s UAP collection) broaden public access and keep post-disclosure inquiry tethered to documents, not rumor. 34
• Obama’s 2021 remarks normalized high-level acknowledgement: “footage and records” exist of objects whose behavior resists easy explanation. 8
—
What Readers Should Expect (and Why the Book Matters)
1. A surge of myth-making and fear-based politics.
Parties and media will compete to “frame” disclosure as either communal healing or controlled competence. Your guidance: disclose widely, decentralize interpretation, protect sovereignty. 5
2. Religious re‑reading under pressure.
Expect new homiletic and doctrinal work on angels/demons, possession, discernment, and cosmology. Provide guidance: restore biblical guardrails, engage comparative traditions seriously, and reject sentimental syncretism.
3. Law, security, and ethics.
Air safety, sensor policy, and data custodianship will dominate hearings; civil liberty questions (privacy, mind–machine interfaces, and conscience) will follow. Your guidance: keep civil protections strong, resist “emergency powers creep.”
4. Consciousness first, technology second.
The teaser’s grammar—and much of the historical record—suggest the human mind is the first theater. Your guidance: form communities of discernment, not fandoms of panic. 9
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Footnotes & Selected Bibliography
Footnotes / Source list
1. “Disclosure Day trailer/title/release” — Deadline (Dec 16, 2025); Hollywood Reporter (Dec 16, 2025). 12
4. “ODNI Preliminary Assessment; UAPTF creation” — Wikipedia summary of ODNI report (citing ODNI, June 25, 2021); DoD release on UAPTF (Aug 14, 2020). 514
5. “AARO historical record & transparency posture” — AARO Historical Record Report Vol. 1 (Feb 2024); ABC News interview with AARO director (June 4, 2025). 67
6. “CIA FOIA ‘UFOs: Fact or Fiction?’; Black Vault / Smithsonian overview” — CIA Reading Room; Smithsonian (Jan 15, 2021). 153
8. “Obama 2021 remarks on James Corden” — NBC News (May 18, 2021). 8
Selected bibliography (for your appendix)
• Office of the Director of National Intelligence. Preliminary Assessment: Unidentified Aerial Phenomena. June 25, 2021. 5
• Department of Defense (UAPTF Establishment). Release, Aug 14, 2020. 14
• All‑Domain Anomaly Resolution Office (AARO). Report on the Historical Record of U.S. Government Involvement with UAP, Vol. I. Feb 2024 (DOPSR‑cleared). 6
• CIA FOIA Reading Room. UFOs: Fact or Fiction? 1940s–1990s collection. 15
• National Archives. Records Related to UAPs (RG 615). 4
• Deadline; Hollywood Reporter; IGN; Polygon; GoldDerby; IndieWire/Yahoo—industry and mainstream coverage of Disclosure Day teaser and release. 129121011
I have to spend some time on A.I. because it’s probably the most significant psychological crisis our civilization will face over the next several thousand years. And my wife is right there with many of you. We were at Kings Island with the grandkids, and a Tesla Cybertruck was parked next to me, and I loved it. I think it’s the best car on the road today, and I’m probably going to get one in the not-too-distant future. But most people think it’s ugly and disgusting, and they believe that for a lot of deeply psychological reasons. Yet it reminds me of the Starship, which is one of my favorite things in the world right now. As we discussed our opinions on Cybertruck, Starship 11 had just successfully landed in the Indian Ocean on a spectacular mission, which I was very excited about. And the main reason was that it was a big, complicated rocket, but humans didn’t operate any of it. Everything was autonomous. All that engineering innovation took off from Texas and landed autonomously at precise points on the other side of the world. And much of that technology has made its way into the Cybertruck and its autonomous driving. And I would like that automatic driving feature. My lifestyle would greatly benefit from it. I could get a lot done with all that commuting around, which usually requires physical driving. Which many people aren’t ready to accept. But I would encourage everyone to shift a gear and get with the program, because a lot of exciting stuff is coming. And human beings will be getting a lot busier —not less so —because vast amounts of the economy will be unlocked, and humans will benefit, not find themselves replaced.
And my wife and I were compelled to have this discussion, as I have been having it with many people lately about labor. I’m a 24/7 guy, certainly not a Monday-through-Friday 8-hour-max person. I hate driving around on a Saturday and seeing so many manufacturing facilities closed up for the day. I want to see more 7-day-a-week operations everywhere to maximize economic output. That doesn’t mean people need to do all that work. But sandbagging potential revenue when there is work to be done because some human doesn’t want to do it, or is trying to stuff labor hours into a box of convenient assumptions, is not the wave of the future. More work, more often, is the new standard. And what all this technology I’m talking about leads to is the new market trend of Tesla Optimus robots, which are being built rapidly, and the Gen 3 designs have nearly full articulation in the hands. They will be about half as fast as a human on labor-intensive tasks, but they will be able to do them around the clock without complaint, seven days a week. While people are in church on Sunday, Optimus robots will still be able to perform work. And that is exciting because that means that humans will be able to settle space without having to do all the dangerous work on Starship. In a few short years, Starships will be able to fly into space every day, and there will be thousands of them. And none of them will likely have human beings on them. Optimus robots, Gen 3 and beyond, will be the first to Mars, and by the time humans arrive in those remote places, there will already be infrastructure in place, built by robots and A.I., to make the trip much safer and easier.
I have been very impressed with the Grok A.I. program developed by Elon Musk’s team at the X platform. It has been a strange chain of events: Musk bought Twitter and turned it into a free-speech platform, which played a significant role in getting Trump’s message out so people could vote for him. But more than anything, it has captured all the information people have put into it, building a very sophisticated A.I. program that I already think of as a kind of personal C-3PO from Star Wars. It’s swift at research and at conversational communication. And that development of A.I. will roll straight into making the Optimus robots much more human-like and effective right out of the box. I think all this technology will help human beings, not hurt them. It will be more of a Star Wars relationship than 2001: A Space Odyssey or The Terminator. Going back to the Cybertruck, the kind of hatred it generates is a reminder that the future has arrived and people are not ready for it, with such a radical design change that completely alters the aesthetic of what transportation is supposed to do. Not only does it look different, but it acts differently, and it is more of an A.I. companion than a car, and that really rattles people, including my wife. She is not happy about these changes, but I think it’s funny. Because she’s not alone, we’re rapidly redefining many things, and in just a few short years, we will be looking at a very different economy, with most of the growth happening in space.
As I talk to market types, that’s what I’m saying to those who want to listen: the 24/7 day work week is the future, and the growth is in space. Starship 11 showed that SpaceX can launch and land a reusable craft exactly where they want it, without fear of human error. It’s all autonomous. And that means that soon, A.I. will be able to take over air traffic control and coordinate all these vehicles with great precision, without ever having to stop for a coffee break. So, human limits won’t hold the economy back; it will grow enormously by trillions of dollars. However, all that money generated won’t be spent by the A.I. technology. They will have no use of money, only the currency of energy. Humans will have a lot more leisure time and will see vastly improved incomes for the time they do commit to the job. Which is why I like Cybertruck —it respects my time and lets me do so much more in a 24-hour day. Work will greatly expand, but leisure time for humans will become much more manageable. Humans will go to Mars and the Moon. But to colonize them, it will essentially be A.I. and Tesla robots that build the vast infrastructure and cities needed to make human visits much safer and more reliable. Robots, not humans, will perform the dangerous work. And there will be many thousands and thousands of robots, adding to our labor force by necessity. And I think it’s all very exciting and significant. But for many, like my wife, they are very skeptical and see all this new technology as a serious threat to their very life essence. But that’s what’s coming. That’s what I’m telling everyone is the future of aerospace. There will be lots of opportunities for great adventure and vast work, and it all becomes possible and reasonably achievable with that last Starship launch that was nearly perfect. Grok’s advancements, a very sophisticated A.I. program, are directly feeding the Optimus robot’s development. And that all points back to the practical use of the new Cybertruck. A glimpse of the future, today. And it might be scary to a lot of people. But it’s coming, ready or not.
People often ask me why I’ve chosen to stay involved with CTL Aerospace, especially during a time when the company is facing significant challenges. The truth is, I could be doing a lot of other things—more lucrative work of a much higher profile, more socially visible roles, or ventures with less resistance. As someone told me this past week, I’m too talented to waste my key income years on hopeless crusades. But I don’t measure value in dollars alone. I measure it in independence, in impact, and in the preservation of something uniquely American: privately held ownership. CTL Aerospace in West Chester, Ohio is a Tier 2 supplier, and that position in the supply chain is not just operational—it’s strategic. It’s where innovation meets execution, and where long-term thinking still matters. In an industry increasingly dominated by public ownership and institutional investors, CTL represents a rare and vital piece of our national infrastructure that still answers to its owners, not to shareholders chasing quarterly returns.
My involvement is rooted in a belief that private ownership is essential to the health of American aerospace and defense. When companies go public or fall into the hands of investment firms, they often lose their soul. Decisions get made by boards, not builders. Products get rushed to market, not refined through years of R&D. And the personal accountability that comes from direct ownership disappears. In aerospace, where development cycles span decades and reliability is non-negotiable, this shift is dangerous. You can’t trade supply chain integrity like a stock. You can’t outsource stewardship. And you certainly can’t afford to lose the kind of long-term commitment that privately held companies bring to the table. That’s why I fight for Tier 2 suppliers—because it’s where the real work happens, and where the future of American capability is quietly being decided.
This isn’t just about CTL. It’s about a broader economic trend that’s squeezing out private owners across industries—from aerospace to agriculture. Just like family farms are taxed out of existence and sold off to developers, small and mid-sized manufacturers are being pressured to sell to conglomerates and investment firms. The result is a loss of continuity, a dilution of expertise, and a breakdown in the relationships that make supply chains resilient. When you call a privately owned company, you talk to someone who knows your name, your order, and your expectations. When you call a publicly traded one, you get an intern while the investors are off playing golf. That erosion of personal investment is a catastrophe for our market economy. So when people ask me why I associate myself with CTL Aerospace, I tell them it’s because this fight—this defense of Tier 2 suppliers—is one of the most important stories in America today. It’s about protecting the kind of ownership that built this country, and ensuring it still has a place in the industries that will define our future.
In the shadows of America’s aerospace resurgence lies a quiet but critical battle—one that could determine the future of our industrial independence, national security, and economic resilience. At the heart of this fight are the Tier 2 suppliers: the specialized, often family-owned or privately held companies that manufacture the complex, high-precision components essential to modern flight. These firms are now under siege—not by foreign competitors, but by a coordinated squeeze from financial institutions and private equity firms seeking to consolidate, control, and commoditize a sector that was never meant to be run like a hedge fund.
The Strategic Role of Tier 2s
Tier 2 suppliers like CTL Aerospace in West Chester, Ohio are the connective tissue of the aerospace supply chain. They produce composite nacelles, thrust reversers, engine components, and structural assemblies that Tier 1s and OEMs depend on to meet FAA certification standards and delivery schedules. These are not interchangeable parts. They require decades of engineering expertise, proprietary tooling, and a workforce trained in the art of precision manufacturing.
With the FAA mandating lighter, more fuel-efficient aircraft, the demand for advanced composites has surged. Programs like the GE9X and LEAP engines require vast quantities of carbon fiber sandwich structures—components that only a handful of Tier 2s can produce at scale. Yet, despite their strategic importance, these firms are vanishing.
A Shrinking Ecosystem
According to Deloitte and other industry outlooks, independent Tier 2 suppliers now make up less than 15–20% of the mid-tier aerospace pool—a dramatic decline from a decade ago. The rest have been acquired, merged, or shuttered under pressure from banks and consolidators. The pandemic accelerated this trend, exposing the fragility of just-in-time supply chains and the vulnerability of undercapitalized firms.
Private equity firms like Arcline, AE Industrial, and others—have seized on this moment. M&A activity in aerospace surged from $218 billion in 2024 to projections of $382 billion by 2030, with a disproportionate focus on Tier 2s. Their strategy is clear: acquire specialized suppliers, vertically integrate them into larger portfolios, and feed the Boeing and Airbus backlog without the regulatory headaches of organic growth.
The Financial Squeeze Play
The playbook is ruthless but effective. Financial institutions—Wells Fargo among them—tighten liquidity through covenant manipulation, triggering technical defaults or cash flow crises. This artificially depresses the company’s market value, making it ripe for acquisition. Once the target is weakened, PE firms swoop in with lowball offers, often backed by the very banks that created the distress.
Why This Matters to America
This is not just a business story. It’s a national security issue. The United States cannot afford to lose its independent manufacturing base—not when global tensions are rising, supply chains are under strain, and aerospace remains one of our last great industrial strongholds.
If Tier 2s are absorbed into opaque financial structures, we lose visibility, agility, and control. We risk turning our aerospace sector into a brittle, over-leveraged system where decisions are made in boardrooms, not shop floors. The ability to respond to military needs, commercial surges, or technological shifts will be compromised.
A Path Forward: Defense Through Independence
The solution is not to resist change, but to reassert control. Independent Tier 2s must:
Form strategic alliances with OEMs or Tier 1s that respect their autonomy.
Pursue minority investments from family offices, aerospace-focused VCs, or patriotic capital sources that don’t demand board control.
Implement governance defenses like staggered boards or poison pills to deter hostile takeovers.
Audit and challenge predatory lending practices, potentially invoking antitrust or shareholder protections.
The Optimistic Case
Despite the pressure, there is reason for hope. The scarcity of capable Tier 2s makes them more valuable than ever. OEMs are desperate for reliable partners who can scale without compromising quality. Investors are beginning to recognize that long-term value lies not in flipping assets, but in building enduring capabilities.
If we can hold the line—if we can resist the short-termism of Wall Street and the opportunism of consolidation—we can emerge stronger. We can preserve the independence, innovation, and integrity that made American aerospace the envy of the world.
A Call to Action
To policymakers, regulators, and industry leaders: this is your moment. Protect the Tier 2s. Investigate the lending practices that are hollowing out our industrial base. Support capital structures that reward stewardship, not speculation.
To investors: look beyond the spreadsheet. Understand the strategic value of independence in a world where resilience is the new ROI.
To our peers in the industry: stand together. Share intelligence, form coalitions, and defend the middle tier. The future of aerospace depends on it.
It’s a remarkable thing to witness history being made, especially when it doesn’t receive the attention it deserves. That’s precisely what happened with SpaceX’s Starship SN10. Against all odds, and despite a series of setbacks, SN10 completed its mission, withstood the stress tests, and landed a fully intact craft in the Indian Ocean. It wasn’t perfect—there were damaged components, mysterious explosions, and some tough engineering challenges—but it worked. And that’s the point. It worked well enough to prove something extraordinary: that this vehicle, this Starship, is more robust than anyone expected. And that robustness is precisely what we need if we’re serious about going to the Moon, to Mars, and beyond.
Starship SN10 didn’t just fly—it endured. It burned through the atmosphere, held together under pressure, and landed with controlled precision. That’s not just a technical achievement; it’s a philosophical one. It’s a statement about what’s possible when you push boundaries, when you accept failure as part of the process, and when you keep going anyway.
Let’s talk about what actually happened. Starship SN10 launched from Boca Chica, Texas, and demonstrated its full capabilities. It wasn’t just a test flight—it was a stress test. Engineers deliberately pushed the limits. They removed some heat shield tiles to see how the stainless steel would react to hotspots. They pushed the flaps to the edge of their tolerances. They wanted data, and they got it. That’s how you improve a spacecraft. You don’t play it safe. You push it until it breaks, and then you figure out how to make it stronger.
Previous missions had ended in explosions. SN8, and SN9, had spectacular failures. But each one taught SpaceX something new. That’s the beauty of iterative engineering. You fail fast, you learn fast, and you build better. SN10 was the culmination of those lessons. It didn’t just survive—it performed. Even with one flap malfunctioning and a mysterious explosion near the edge of the bay, it managed to stay stable, burn through the atmosphere, and land close to its intended target. That’s not luck. That’s engineering.
This mission was critical. It wasn’t just about proving that Starship could fly—it was about proving that it could be trusted. That it could be repeatable. That it could be the backbone of a new space economy. And yet, where was the coverage? Where was the excitement? Back in the days of NASA’s space shuttle program, every launch was a media event. It was on every channel. It was a national moment. But Starship? It barely made a blip in mainstream news.
That’s bizarre. Because what SpaceX is doing is arguably more significant than anything NASA did during the shuttle era. This isn’t just about sending astronauts into orbit. This is about building a reusable, scalable, interplanetary transport system. This is about making space travel routine. And yet, the only people who seem to care are the science geeks, the tech enthusiasts, the Comic-Con crowd. I’m one of them, proudly. I build my day around every Starship launch. Because I know what it means. I know what’s at stake.
I’ve watched every launch. I’ve felt frustrated when things blow up. I’ve celebrated the small victories. And this one—SN10—felt different. It felt like a turning point. It felt like the moment when things started to work. The payload simulations worked. The Starlink satellite dispenser inside the craft functioned with pinpoint precision. The reusability goals were achieved. This wasn’t just a test—it was a proof of concept. And it worked.
This is the moment people will look back on and say, “That’s when it changed.” That’s when space travel stopped being a dream and started being a reality. That’s when we stopped talking about going to the Moon and started planning it. That’s when Mars stopped being science fiction and started being a destination.
Of course, none of this happens without technology. And that brings us to AI. There’s a lot of fear around AI—people worry about Skynet, about machines becoming conscious, about losing control. Science fiction has been warning us for decades. And those fears are worth thinking about. We shouldn’t let technology get away from us. We need to stay in control. But we also need to embrace it.
AI is how we get to space. It’s how we process the massive amounts of data needed to run these missions. It’s how we make things repeatable, reliable, and scalable. The computing power we have today makes the Apollo missions look like kids’ toys, with the technology of a laser pointer. We’re operating on a whole different level now. And AI is the key to unlocking that level.
Take self-driving cars, for example. They’re not just a convenience—they’re a shift in how we live. They free up time. They make commutes more productive. They change the way we think about transportation. And that same shift is happening in space. The commercial space enterprise is poised to become a thriving economy. It’s going to require hard work, innovation, and yes, AI. Because humans can’t do it all. We need help. And AI is that help.
Starship SN10 was just the beginning. Starship 11 is already in the pipeline. Engineers are learning from SN10, making adjustments, and preparing for the next flight. Elon Musk has hinted that Starship 12 or 13 could launch by the fourth quarter of 2025 or early 2026. That’s rapid iteration. That’s how you build a space program, not with bureaucracy, not with delays, but with action.
And it’s not just about launches. It’s about deployment. It’s about getting to the point where Starships are flying like buses—routine, reliable, and everywhere. That’s the vision. That’s the goal. And it’s achievable because SN10 proved it.
We’re talking about the Artemis program. We’re talking about putting people on the Moon. And whatever people believe about past moon landings—whether they think it was real, staged, or somewhere in between—we’re going back. And this time, it’s not about beating the Russians. It’s about building a future. It’s about expanding humanity’s reach. It’s about survival.
There’s a segment of the population that doesn’t want to leave Earth. They’re comfortable here. They worship the planet. They fear change. However, if you genuinely care about humanity, you must think bigger. Elon Musk says it best: if we want to preserve human consciousness, we must venture into space. We have to take our intelligence, our creativity, our spirit—and let it grow beyond Earth.
That’s what Starship is about. It’s not just a rocket. It’s a symbol. It’s a foundation. It’s the first step toward a multiplanetary civilization. And SN10 was the proof that we’re on the right path.
Even under stress, even with problems, SpaceX pulled it off. That means we have stability. That means engineers can trust the system. That means we can innovate. We can take chances. We can improve. And that’s how progress happens.
This was a milestone. A pinnacle moment in human history. And it didn’t get enough coverage. We need to discuss this. We have to celebrate it. We have to recognize it for what it is: the beginning of a new era.
Starship SN10 wasn’t just a successful flight. It was a statement. It was a declaration that space is open for business. That humanity is ready to expand. That our past does not limit us—we’re driven by our future.
And it’s happening fast. The rate of acceleration is astonishing. Every launch gets better. Every mission teaches us something new. And every success brings us closer to the stars. I love every one of these launches. I build my day around them. Because I know what they mean. I know what they represent. I’m eager to see more. Starship SN10 was a success. Not just technically, but philosophically. It proved that we can accomplish complex tasks. That we can push boundaries. That we can dream big—and make those dreams real.
I understood what Elon Musk meant when he expressed that a government on Mars should be a Direct Democracy as opposed to what we have in the United States, a Representative Republic. Many people took that as a knock against our current form of government, which many would consider the best in the world. But I think the point of the matter is to regulate what you want the government to do. I would say that in America, we just voted for a strong CEO type, and coming from the wealthiest man in the world who runs a lot of companies, of course, that would be his recommendation. When we set up a government on Mars, we should give people the right to vote for a strong CEO type of leader. Not a government with checks and balances that are meant to keep the brakes on government activism by making it hard to pass things that can slow down your society. A mature government in a fully functioning country will have different needs than a remote colony of struggling adventurers, so context is everything. But it’s important to consider how leadership is advanced or suppressed in a culture, depending on the kind of government you want to have. Personally, I get asked at least two or three times a week when I am going to run for elected office, and my reply is always that I don’t have the tolerance for all that hand-holding. Politicians have to be patient and need to serve the task at hand. Where I am a very imposing person. I expect people to do things my way or to take the highway. I am not very interested in people who don’t do what I tell them. And I certainly am not a group consensus kind of facilitator. Elected office would be very frustrating because it involves too much working with other people to get anything done.
I certainly understand the need for a time and place to give everyone a seat at the table. In my own family, I get very frustrated in trying to get anybody to agree on anything when we coordinate events together. There is always somebody working, there is always someone sick, there is always someone who wants to do something else. And when it comes to those things and community events, I tend to sit on my temper and let everyone talk until they figure it out. At those times, I sit back and sit on my hands and wait for everyone to get their minds right. It drives me crazy, but its what you have to do sometimes when the people you are working with want to think they are all equally able to express an opinion and desire for an outcome. Our representative government in America is good because it only gives it limited powers to do the bare minimum. However, innovation and exceptional output come from individual leaders who are very strong-willed and can put people on their backs and take them to the promised land. That’s the kind of thing I’m interested in. That is undoubtedly what America voted for in putting Trump back in the White House. We didn’t vote for a continued bureaucracy of three branches of government checking each other’s power. As a strong CEO, we want Trump to impose his will on the executive branch and make everyone else see things his way. Which is the way we voted for. That is the kind of thing that Elon Musk is talking about setting up on Mars. I would say he’s new to this kind of thinking and has the right idea. But as to government, you don’t want your leadership on Mars to come from the government. You want a bunch of innovative CEOs competing with each other to drive culture forward. You want just enough representative government to keep the power and water supply flowing. The basic infrastructure that the government can provide for a society. But nothing more. Our form of government was so powerful because it decentralized the concept of a king. But in a strongly run company, a CEO is essentially a king. So, one thing we have never quite figured out in a capitalist culture is how to have a decentralized government that empowers kings to run good companies and give people options through at-will employment. If they don’t like one company, they can work for another. If their king is a tyrant, they can leave and work for someone much better. Meanwhile, the water works, the power runs, and the basic infrastructure needs of society are handled by a government just powerful enough to do so but not so powerful that it takes over everything.
I fall asleep with all the consensus-building that has been imposed on us by collectivist-based philosophies because they were never going to work. I’m glad people are doing those jobs for school boards, trustees, and commissioners. But I am only ever happy when I can point at someone and tell them to do a task. They perform the task, and everyone celebrates victory. Rule by Consensus is an academic fantasy by the fans of Karl Marx. It’s as practical as unicorns and dragons from fantasy and has no business being discussed along with leadership concepts. Human beings follow strong leaders. Elon Musk, the world’s richest person, knows through experience what a good leader looks like. And when traveling to other planets and setting up civilization there, strong leaders will be necessary. Stalled government concepts will only slow down progress.
When we talk about why we can’t do things anymore, and everything costs so much money, it’s because our government approach has been wrong. When we try to build a bridge or a highway, if we look to the past, there was always some strong personality type that was able to wrestle all the alligators and make boots out of them. This is opposed to the consensus-building approach, in which everyone treats the effort like an Alcoholics Anonymous session. That approach costs money and time and seldom ever gets anything done. And I have never been interested in those interactions with other people. And people who are good leaders check out and do something else. If you want success in a society, you have to give a means to firm leadership to work their magic. We didn’t elect Trump to get along with other people. We elected him to impose his will that we voted for. He told us what he wanted to do, and we empowered him to do it. That is what Elon Musk is talking about for Mars and space travel in general. You never want the government to have too much power. Our current Representative Republic keeps elected officials talking while the real leaders of the world run companies that employ people for everyone’s best interests. We don’t look to the government to provide that leadership level, and we never should. Even though we admire people like George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and Ronald Reagan, they are exceptions to the rule of a government that needs to have its power regulated and stalled so that a centralized authority doesn’t encumber authentic leadership. And that is a trick we are still working out on earth. We see good examples here and there; Elon Musk is undoubtedly one of them. Trump has always been a successful and influential CEO. But he doesn’t share the spotlight with anybody. He has always been the top dog in all his endeavors. And people dealing with him know it. I’ve never seen authentic leadership share the spotlight of authority and work. Rule by committee does not work. Only strong leadership by influential personalities works. Typically, those are not the people you want running the government. You want them out there making money and employing people so that society has options and innovation to build from.
With the same kind of vivacious denials, the narrative of human civilization is as edited and denied as the election fraud of 2020, and for all the same reasons. The truth, which is being uncovered quickly through decentralized media and studies in these matters that exceeds traditional scholarship, is that for many tens of thousands of years, a global race of very tall people worshipped the stars and had very advanced understandings of planetary movement. They were hinted at in the Bible as that wonderful collection of documents gives us a hint into a past that very little evidence survived due to the amount of time that we are talking about. We have all over the earth, which can be seen on Netflix now with Graham Hancock’s Apocalypse series some of the emerging evidence, the obvious hints at a very ancient past. But, the narrative, largely for continued control over earth’s populations has been to deny all this aggressively. Which is why the election of 2024 was so important, and why the current established order has to collapse and be destroyed, essentially. Because the fight has been to hide a lot of things from the past and once we get out into space as human beings, routinely, and we open up archaeological study that extends to other planets, we are going to find out a lot more soul-shattering details about our place in the universe than what that Netflix show, Ancient Apocalypse has shown. But it’s a reality we have to face and its going to happen very quickly over the next couple of years.
As Graham Hancock talked about his Ancient Apocalypse Netflix series, which has a lot of faces melting, on the Joe Rogan Experience he mentioned that during the filming he was banned from the Cahokia Mounds Park just outside of St. Louis, for the same reasons that he was banned from Serpent Mound during the previous season. What Graham was proposing was that the Cahokia complex was much more like ancient Mesopotamia, and the Aztecs and Mayans than some hunter and gatherer Indians who were peaceful and built a few mounds to worship the sun. I actually have some very direct experience with this phenomena that I was involved in a long time before Graham Hancock became famous for his journalism into these matters. Way back in 1997 after the Titanic was doing great movie business my brother lived in Los Angeles and a bunch of investors wanted to make a movie of their own and get in on the Hollywood fun. So I wrote a script on an idea I had called The Lost Cannibals of Cahokia, which was an outrageous adventure story that was a crossover between the Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Indiana Jones adventures. And when I turned it in to the agents and the Wilshire Blvd producers and money people, their faces melted by how violent and outrageous it was. And at some point about a decade of shopping the script around, several really big names in entertainment were wanting to partner up to get the movie made. But the real heart of the problem with the script was that at the core of it I had explored the cause of the demise of the Cahokian culture, and all cultures for that matter, which is a theme I explore in everything I do. And it didn’t make people very happy, to say the least. My script went on to win several awards at various film festivals and was seen by a lot of people who really liked it. But they couldn’t get their minds around the central premise which attacked directly assumptions about humanity that were sacred cows. I was told that if I wanted to make the movie that we could do all the horror and adventure elements, but that we’d have to rework the central premise. And I was offered a lot of money for it, in the millions of dollars. But I shelved it for a later day because my favorite parts of the story were the things they wanted to throw out. And I decided to put my attention more into political matters because the world wasn’t quite ready for the things I was interested in.
So I understood why so many people were upset over Graham Hancock’s proposals about Cahokia, and many sites along the ancient Mississippi River, where its obvious there was a very established culture during the Archaic period and that they were trading with South America, establishing the settlement at Easter Island, and all through the Polynesian Islands. And that many of these cultures were considered advanced during the last Ice Age. There is a vast conspiracy that is obsessed with keeping human beings from learning too much about their past beyond what the Bible discusses. But the hints are everywhere and being talked about much more now, especially with Trump returning to office and dismantaling a lot of the out-of-date organizations that have been suppressing this information for thousands of years. It’s not hard to see how and why, considering that Stonehenge is not that old and in a few thousand more years, there won’t be much left of it through the natural erosion process. That is the same issue with the many pyramids around the world that date back just 3000 to 5000 BC. The evidence at Gobekli Tepe for instance was buried purposely in Turkey and uncovered only to find that it is over 11,000 years old. So by being buried, it preserved the site from erosive elements leaving us all to wonder just how much evidence from the past has been eroded away.
Well, we’re going to find out, and with SpaceX’s Starship producing every 8 hours a new ship to go into space, we will quickly moved to a space economy during Trump’s next term. And this is not just current politics, but something we have been moving toward since the days of Biblical reporting, even the central heart of the destruction of the Library at Qumran and the standoff with the Romans at Masada. Governments have been hiding this issue from the public to maintain control over populations until essentially this century. And now the lid is being blown off that long held secret. And we’re going to get to the moon and Mars, and to the moons around Jupiter and Saturn and we’re going to find out that our history goes back much further than just colonies on Earth. And many of our mythologies and assumptions are going to be shattered, and they need to be. I have watched that process myself just over some of the sites on earth, and among people who were very smart and very rich and their faces melted over any suggestion of something happening beyond the accepted norms. But we have to get ourselves ready because space archaeology will become an important field, and much of what has been suppressed as evidence on earth will no longer be able to be suppressed. And we are going to learn a lot about ourselves, at a pace of change that will be astonishing. I saw many years ago that this had to happen. I was surprised by it when I saw how violent it made people just based on my script which many were involved with for the money it could have made. But for me, it was much more personal, and important. And ultimately, a sign of things to come.
I was very encouraged by the recent product launch of Tesla’s new Optimus Bot, which was revealed to the world just before the SpaceX landing of the Super Heavy booster at Boca Chica, Texas. Not that the launch event should have taken a back seat to anything, but the SpaceX news was so tremendous that it did. But to answer the question about the Tesla Bots, I would certainly buy one. If all they cost is $20-$30K, I could see buying a lot of them because, essentially, they would be like your very own C-3PO from Star Wars, a mechanical assistant to all the things a human just doesn’t have time for. When Elon Musk said during the product launch that he thought these would be the hottest-selling products in the world, I think he was right. In the future, they will be as common as a calculator is today. When calculators first came out, they were a bit of a novelty. But their usefulness was quickly appreciated. The Tesla Bots, called Optimus, have been criticized for their flamboyant walking around and pouring drinks for people, as engineers were operating them, but the concept was good. I’ve seen enough from Tesla AI to know that they’ll get all the bugs worked out and that these Tesla Bots will learn enough from humans to self-navigate and interact with their environment properly. The ability of SpaceX, another Elon Musk company, to land that Super Heavy Booster back to earth from space with AI technology is essentially much more complicated than teaching a robot to walk around a room and perform basic tasks, so we are seeing something very new being launched here by Tesla that will be tremendously beneficial to the future.
I enjoyed watching President Trump work a McDonald’s drive-thru. That was a brilliant campaign move, and it showed just how good he is as a person to recognize that something like that needed to be done and that, as a billionaire, he would do it to show people he can relate with them. Most people work a fast-food job at some point as a first or second job, and I think they are extraordinary experiences. When I review job applications for opportunities, I look for them to reveal fast food experience since I believe those are great places to learn a work ethic. Fast-food restaurants are high-pressure environments where speed and quality go hand in hand, and it’s good for people to be exposed to them. Almost every human being interacts with a fast-food restaurant, likely several times a week. So, one thing we all have in common is our need for food and the way that food is made and delivered. So, there was a lot about President Trump working at that McDonald’s in Pennsylvania that was good. But I talk about them a lot because it’s one of the first places where you can see a weakness in the labor market. I go to McDonald’s a lot, all over the country, especially in Ohio, as I travel around to fast-draw competitions. And I see a lot of short staffing in fast food places where most have never recovered from Covid. I have worked at several fast-food restaurants personally, McDonald’s, Wendy’s, and even Frisch’s, so I know what kind of management decisions go into closing down a second drive-thru window or a dining room over staffing concerns. I understand why people call off work and why they come to work; I learned a lot during my various jobs in the restaurant industry when I was young. More than any other source of education. Until you’ve run the front grill, the drive-thru grill, and the fry station all by yourself at a Wendy’s at the Kings Island location, which was busy all day long, you haven’t yet lived. But I did that job at the time better than anybody in Cincinnati routinely, and I liked it because it was so challenging. And for the critics out there, which I have many, I worked that job at the Kings Island location as a second job, working 30 hours per week, including weekends, and my wife and I only had one car. So I rode a bicycle to get to work through the snow and pouring rain even when the temperature was -10 below zero. And I never called off. I never got sick. And I was never late. Ever! My former employers could all testify to those facts.
The point is that our labor market is permanently damaged. Even if it were like it used to be, where people had a decent work ethic and showed up for work, we would still have a problem. Our economy needs to outgrow the limits of a workforce. Not to be penalized by it. Meaning we cannot limit our workforce to the limits of labor. This has been a deliberate scheme by globalists to harm the productivity of American culture and capitalism in general, and we are today seeing the effects of decades of this erosion. So the future needs an alternative, especially in what I can see as a practical reality in about ten years for the first McDonald’s to be launched literally in space, either on Mars, the Moon, or an orbiting space station. Don’t laugh; things will move fast once President Trump is elected, and things will happen technologically in a whirlwind. But what we can’t have happen is that our management forces waste all their time trying to call a bunch of lazy kids into work who would rather sit at home and play video games. I see these Tesla Bots first being applied to industries such as fast food to serve in those much-needed positions. They run for up to 20 hours, so for basic things like prepping food and delivering it out of a drive-thru window, these Tesla Bots could fill the many job needs that are currently a big problem in the fast food industry. And they’d be quicker and more efficient than many of the slack-jawed losers currently in those positions.
Yes, of course, labor unions will have a problem with automated robots doing the work of human beings. But the economy needs to grow, and labor limits can’t stifle it. Humans and robots will help each other much the way they do in Star Wars, as natural extensions of human intellect. What I have often said about Star Wars is that through art and entertainment, the human race has been working out this upcoming reality for a long time. Now that we have a few generations who understand the concept through fiction, such as Elon Musk, who was exposed to it as a youth, an engineering reality can take place, which we see unfolding in our present time. The technology is there, the concept has been there, and all we have needed was a President like Trump to come in and take the restrictor plates off the economy to set everything loose. And that is what we see going on in October of 2024. I can see these Tesla Bots performing critical tasks in almost all basic manufacturing, and they will cost a lot less than an average employee, but they never stop, only to be recharged. So, I can see the Tesla Bots expanding sovereign countries’ economic potential and fueling the labor needs for our civilization to move into space. What would be better to start a civilization on Mars or Europa than a fleet of Tesla Bots going ahead of humans and building small colonies on their own so that when humans arrive, everything is nice and cozy for them to start the actual work? I think Tesla Bots will be a big part of my life, and I can see buying thousands of them over the next 20 years. And I think they will tremendously benefit the world we have been preparing for over the last several thousand years, and I’m very excited about it.
In many ways, the spectacular Super Heavy Booster catch at the SpaceX facility was more significant than when the Berlin Wall came down. Much more important, politically, scientifically, and philosophically. It was an awesome display of what human minds can achieve when unleashed, and to say the least, the door to human colonization of space was just kicked wide open. On an even larger scale, the pages of Karl Marx might as well have been burnt as the most inefficient system of government management ever created. Capitalism was and will always be the means of managing people and their finances for the future as this incredible event occurred just a few weeks away from the 2024 election, where essentially those are the two choices: abundant capitalism from a sovereign American market or global communism ran by the United Nations. Elon Musk, the CEO of SpaceX, gets it. I was probably the first person in the world, including himself, to see Musk turn hard to Republican elected officials as he had in the past been an enthusiastic supporter of Barack Obama and Biden. I chronicled his change by the kind of books he was reading and pointed it out well before he seemed to have figured it out. Communism doesn’t work, and it was overt communism that had been holding back this fantastic event of the launch of Starship 5 from Boca Chica, Texas, and the Starbase there with FAA permits that were holding everything up with massive government bureaucracy. Once they finally had their permit, under tremendous public pressure, the FAA had no choice really; the SpaceX team launched, for the first time in all history, the largest vehicle ever to go into space and have controlled landings in two different locations precisely over their targets, all automated and coming off without a problem. The countdown to launch was exact and on point, and we saw what routine spaceflights over the coming years would look like.
America has a choice to make that is very positive: elect President Trump and get a whole lot more toward a massively expanding economy as what people saw from SpaceX on October 13th, 2024. As I watched the Super Heavy Booster carry Starship into space to land in the Indian Ocean about an hour later, the giant thing the size of a skyscraper turned around and landed back at the same pad it had just launched from. It returned to earth to be captured by the Megazilla chopsticks at the launch pad precisely and smoothly. I first thought that we needed to work out the property rights issue that would arise as we settled into space. The world is getting ready to go through a gold rush similar to what America experienced during westward expansion, and the governing principle will have to be flamboyant capitalism to pull it all off. One of the very first things that the new Trump administration will have to do is protect property rights on the Moon and other celestial bodies. It will have to be American economic standards that the rest of the world will have to live up to because we will be the first to arrive and set up colonies. Starship will make moving into space a practical reality and an economy that will quickly outperform anything ever done on earth, including coal, oil, railroads, shipping, and telecommunications. We are talking about trillions and trillions of dollars of economic value. But it’s not about making money that matters; it’s expanding human intellect, and the only way to do that is to embrace capitalism and human expansion into space. A lot is about to change for the better because of what SpaceX did. The personal journey that Elon Musk has made politically, out of necessity, is one that the rest of the world will now have to embrace—especially communist China.
While the FAA and other government regulatory agencies were trying to protect environmental concerns in the cooling system of SpaceX launches, and California announced a ban of any Elon Musk launch into space from their state entirely due to his political beliefs, China is plotting to carry their communist nation into space with very aggressive plans. So, America must be the first to enter these vast realms and establish the ground rules. The moon needs to be viewed as another continent in our neighborhood that is about the size of Africa, and humans will inevitably go there and use it as a staging platform for expansion into the solar system. All the typical political models of the past are suddenly irrelevant, which is evident behind the Trump campaign in America. So many people have come together under Trump, including Elon Musk, that a new direction for the entire world has just unfolded, and the proof of what is possible was just shown by the Super Heavy rocket that landed precisely at a spaceport like something from a science fiction concept. Only this wasn’t fiction; it was fact. Over one hundred years of science fiction and fantasy were being engineered into reality, and an explosion of intellect was thrust onto the world stage. All past philosophies, except vivacious capitalism, would be inappropriate for embracing these massive changes.
I’ve been a fan of SpaceX for a long time now, and I cheer them on with each launch. They have achieved some new and fantastic engineering breakthroughs. But I did not expect that Super Heavy Booster to return to the launch pad to be captured like that. And to answer everyone catching up, why do they have to capture that rocket with the chopsticks? Well, that’s because the Super Heavy Rocket weighs 250 tons, and it would add too much weight to the craft to have legs on it like they do their Falcon rockets. (the Falcon rockets are named after the Millennium Falcon from Star Wars, by the way, which demonstrates what impact science fiction can have on making it into science reality) The chopsticks on Mechazilla (also named after the massive mechanical monster in Godzilla movies) are a means to take that pressure away from the Super Heavy craft and place it back on its launch stand to be refueled and relaunched within hours. See what’s going on here? The new Giga factory for Starship there at the Spaceport in Texas is planning to build 1000 Star Ships per year, and launches will go up every day, several times a day, to take massive amounts of payload and people into space to live as a routine part of human existence. Fueled by science fiction books and movies, the imaginations of many brilliant people have found a home under Elon Musk, and now they need an economic system that can unleash their vast potential. And communism was never going to be it. The pressure of performance under the upcoming Trump administration will change the world for the better in ways that most aren’t ready for. But what SpaceX did on Sunday, the 13th of October, was life-changing. I would say it was more significant than the moon landing because of what it does to the economy of space. No longer would countries control the realm of space, but it would be the laws of economic reality, imagination, and ambition. The human race demands autonomy and freedom to think, contemplate, and invent. And Starship by SpaceX is the means to achieve the greatness of the human race under the potential of capitalism for thousands of years in the future. And it all starts with a proven concept, which SpaceX has done. Now, it needs a political system that can make it happen, and that comes with the election of President Trump.
The Overmanwarrior 