The 2026 Ohio Gubernatorial Race: Vivek Ramaswamy’s Commanding Position Against Amy Acton’s COVID Legacy and the Democrat Playbook 

As the dust settles on Ohio’s May 5, 2026, primary election, the stage is set for one of the most consequential gubernatorial contests in the state’s recent history. Biotech entrepreneur and Trump-endorsed Republican Vivek Ramaswamy emerged as the overwhelming GOP nominee, crushing fringe challenger Casey Putsch with approximately 82.5% of the vote (673,902 votes to Putsch’s 143,257). Ramaswamy swept every single county in Ohio, a remarkable show of unity across urban, suburban, and rural areas. On the Democratic side, former Ohio Department of Health Director Dr. Amy Acton secured the nomination unopposed, garnering around 742,000–760,000 votes in a low-energy primary. Overall voter turnout reached about 22.6% of registered voters, a modest uptick from recent midterm cycles. 

This matchup pits a dynamic, pro-growth outsider in Ramaswamy—backed by President Donald Trump and positioning Ohio as the nation’s top economic powerhouse—against Acton, whose public profile remains indelibly tied to the state’s aggressive COVID-19 response. As one conservative commentator noted in a recent podcast monologue, the race is far from the neck-and-neck horse race portrayed in some polling and media narratives. While recent surveys show a tight contest (with some giving Acton a slight edge or Ramaswamy a narrow lead), the ground game, Trump’s coattails, independent-voter outreach, and Acton’s historical liabilities suggest that Ramaswamy enters the general election with a structural advantage that could widen significantly by November 3, 2026. 

To fully appreciate this contest, we must delve into the candidates’ backgrounds, the primary results and their implications, the lingering economic scars from the pandemic era, comparative policy outcomes in neighboring states, and the broader political currents reshaping Ohio. This analysis expands on grassroots conservative perspectives—while incorporating verifiable data on turnout, economic metrics, investment challenges, and campaign tactics. Far from a replay of “yesteryear” Democrat strategies, this race highlights how progressive governance models have faltered in a post-Trump political landscape.

Candidate Profiles: Contrasting Visions for Ohio’s Future

Vivek Ramaswamy, a Cincinnati native and biotech billionaire, represents a fresh face in Ohio politics despite his national profile from the 2024 Republican presidential primary. Born to Indian immigrant parents, Ramaswamy built a successful pharmaceutical company (Roivant Sciences) before pivoting to public service. His Trump endorsement came early and emphatically, framing him as a “young, strong, and smart” leader committed to meritocracy, deregulation, and economic revival. Ramaswamy’s campaign emphasizes making Ohio the “#1 state” through pro-business policies, workforce upskilling, and attracting high-tech investment in sectors like semiconductors and biotechnology. He campaigns on the “high road,” avoiding personal attacks while highlighting policy contrasts. Critics from the far-right fringes—such as Putsch, dubbed the “car guy” for his automotive-themed online persona—have leveled baseless claims about Ramaswamy’s heritage or loyalty, echoing outdated nativist arguments. Ramaswamy has dismissed these as irrelevant, noting his personal integrity and fair play: his running mate, Ohio Senate President Rob McColley, bolsters legislative experience. 

In stark contrast stands Dr. Amy Acton, a physician from Youngstown with a compelling personal story of overcoming hardship in a steel mill family. She rose through public health ranks to become Ohio’s Health Director in 2019 under Republican Gov. Mike DeWine. Acton’s national visibility peaked during the early COVID-19 crisis, when she joined DeWine for daily briefings and advocated strict mitigation measures. These included Ohio’s first-in-the-nation school closures, stay-at-home orders (issued March 22, 2020), business shutdowns, and even the postponement of the state’s presidential primary. Supporters praised her as a calming, data-driven voice who “flattened the curve” and protected hospitals. However, detractors—including many business owners, parents, and conservatives—blame her policies for devastating economic and educational fallout, from mental health crises among youth to prolonged business closures. Acton resigned in June 2020 amid personal threats and protests, later serving briefly as a health advisor before entering the private sector and academia. Her 2026 campaign, with running mate and former Democratic Party chair David Pepper, focuses on “power back to the people,” affordability, and a critique of “billionaires and special interests.” Yet her record remains a focal point of Republican attacks, with Ramaswamy labeling her tenure an “abandonment of responsibility.” 

Acton’s campaign has leaned on traditional Democratic infrastructure, including legal support from figures like election attorney Mark Elias, who has been linked to aggressive tactics such as cease-and-desist letters targeting critics. Pepper, a vocal strategist, has served as an attack dog, pushing narratives that question Ramaswamy’s Ohio investment record or allege personal scandals (e.g., unsubstantiated claims of extramarital affairs, which can easily be dismissed as fabrications). These echo “yesteryear” playbook moves but risk backfiring in an era of heightened voter skepticism toward centralized government overreach. 

Primary Season: A Landslide for Ramaswamy, Unopposed for Acton

The May 5 primaries crystallized Republican enthusiasm. Ramaswamy’s 82.5% victory margin—far exceeding pre-primary polls showing him at 50-76%—demonstrated broad consolidation. He won 60-90%+ in nearly every county, from Democratic-leaning urban centers to deep-red rural areas, per county-by-county maps. Putsch, representing a self-described “radical right” element with fringe ideas (e.g., racial primacy in voting or extreme nativism), captured only 17.5% and never posed a serious threat. GOP insiders viewed him as illegitimate, akin to past primary spoilers. This sweep signals unified party backing, contrasting with historical GOP infighting (e.g., the 2016 Trump vs. Cruz/Rubio dynamics, in which critics eventually coalesced post-nomination). 

Acton’s uncontested path yielded solid but unremarkable Democratic turnout. Overall, the low primary participation (22.6%) underscores that the real battle begins now, targeting the 2-3% of independents and soft partisans who decide the general election. Ramaswamy’s primary dominance positions him to inherit the full Republican machinery, amplified by Trump’s upcoming Ohio appearances. 

The Economic Reckoning: COVID Policies, Recovery, and Investment Challenges

Central to the race is Acton’s COVID legacy and its economic toll. Ohio’s early lockdowns contributed to sharp job losses—hundreds of thousands in spring 2020—with uneven recovery. While statewide GDP rebounded (Ohio’s 2023 GDP was around $884 billion, according to BEA data), sectors such as hospitality, retail, and education lagged. Critics argue Acton’s orders exacerbated long-term damage: prolonged school closures harmed student outcomes, and business restrictions drove some enterprises to relocate. Ramaswamy has tied this to Ohio’s failure to recover fully, positioning his administration to reverse it through deregulation and investment incentives. 

Ohio’s business climate has improved—ranked No. 7 nationally and No. 1 in the Midwest in the 2026 Chief Executive CEO survey—but faces headwinds. The high-profile Intel semiconductor plant in New Albany (announced in 2022 with up to $20-100 billion promised) exemplifies stalled momentum: construction delays pushed first production from 2025/2026 to 2030-2031, with Intel investing $5+ billion by early 2026 but citing market and financial caution. Opponents blame pandemic-era policies and regulatory uncertainty; supporters note national chip shortages and the federal CHIPS Act. Regardless, such delays highlight the risk of capital flight if Ohio appears unstable. 

Comparisons to neighboring states underscore the stakes. Indiana, a right-to-work state since 2012, has often outperformed Ohio in manufacturing retention and unemployment (recently ~3.3% vs. Ohio’s ~4.1-4.2%). Studies on right-to-work show mixed but generally positive effects on job growth in competitive sectors. Michigan (post-right-to-work repeal) and Pennsylvania (swing state with union influence) have seen volatile recoveries, with Michigan’s auto sector still grappling with post-COVID supply chains. Kentucky, under GOP leadership but with its own challenges (e.g., successor dynamics under former Gov. Beshear), attracts some investment but lags in high-tech draws. Ohio, lacking right-to-work status despite past attempts (e.g., failed 2011 SB5), relies on tax incentives and workforce development—but Acton’s era amplified perceptions of anti-business hostility. Post-pandemic GDP growth has been comparable across the region (Ohio ~2.1% in recent years), yet Ohio’s unemployment edged higher in some BLS snapshots, and narratives of a business exodus persist. Ramaswamy’s platform—aligning with a potential Trump administration—promises to lure dollars from Indiana, Michigan, and beyond by emphasizing economic viability over lockdowns. 

Unions add another layer. Traditionally Democratic strongholds (teachers, public sector) have shifted toward Trump-era populism on trade and energy. Acton’s ties to labor risk alienating moderates if framed as favoring centralized mandates over job creation. Ramaswamy’s pro-worker, anti-regulation stance could peel independents.

Campaign Tactics, Polling Realities, and Broader Ohio Politics

Recent polls paint a competitive picture—RCP averages near even, with outliers like an early-2026 Emerson showing Acton +1 and Bowling Green/YouGov favoring Ramaswamy slightly. Yet intuition will hold: horse-race media and ad buyers inflate closeness for engagement. Ramaswamy’s primary sweep, Trump rallies, and Acton’s baggage (framed as “COVID queen” by the GOP) suggest momentum. Early attacks—scandals, investment critiques—have already been deployed, leaving Democrats vulnerable to “October surprise” fatigue. Elias-style legal maneuvers and Pepper’s opposition research risk overreach, mirroring past Democratic missteps in red-leaning Ohio. 

Ohio’s political map favors Republicans in gubernatorial races—no Democrat has won since 2006. Trump carried the state handily in 2016, 2020, and 2024. Ramaswamy inherits this, plus Senate and House majorities for swift policy wins. Acton represents a “propped-up Biden figure”: big government, unions, and progressive holdouts hoping to stall MAGA momentum. But as unions court Trump and independents prioritize pocketbooks, her path narrows.

Outlook: Boots on the Ground and a Call to Action

The general election will hinge on turnout and independents. Ramaswamy’s personal appeal—honest, non-combative—contrasts with Acton’s defensive posture. As the monologue urges, do not take victory for granted: vote in November, rally behind the nominee. With Trump stumping and economic contrasts sharpening, Ramaswamy could pull away decisively. Ohio’s recovery from pandemic policies, Intel’s fate, and regional competition will define the narrative.

In sum, this race transcends personalities. It tests whether Ohio embraces pro-growth conservatism or reverts to centralized experimentation. Data favors the former; history and momentum reinforce it. As voters weigh track records, Ramaswamy’s vision aligns with a thriving Ohio, while Acton’s invites scrutiny of past costs. The coming months promise clarity—and opportunity, along with a lot of political drama.  Amy Acton will have a hard time surviving the intensity that is headed her way.

Footnotes

1.  AP projections and primary results, May 2026.

2.  Ramaswamy’s victory speech and Acton’s coverage of the criticism.

3.  BLS unemployment data (Feb/Mar 2026 snapshots).

4.  BEA GDP by state reports.

5.  Chief Executive 2026 Best States for Business survey.

6.  Ballotpedia and NYT poll aggregates.

(Additional citations drawn from campaign filings, historical COVID orders via Ohio Dept. of Health archives, and economic impact studies.)

Bibliography (Selected for Further Reading)

•  Associated Press. “Ohio Primary Election Results 2026.” May 6, 2026.

•  Ballotpedia. “2026 Ohio Gubernatorial Election.”

•  Bureau of Labor Statistics. “State Employment and Unemployment Summary.” 2026 releases.

•  Bureau of Economic Analysis. “GDP by State.” Annual updates through 2025/2026.

•  Chief Executive Magazine. “Best & Worst States for Business 2026.” April 2026.

•  NBC News / 10TV. Primary results coverage, May 2026.

•  New York Times. “Ohio Governor Election Polls 2026.”

•  Ohio Secretary of State. Official primary turnout and county results.

•  RealClearPolling. “2026 Ohio Governor: Ramaswamy vs. Acton.”

•  Various: CNN, Dispatch, Signal Ohio reporting on candidates and Intel project (2025-2026).

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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 JusticeThe Gunfighter’s Guide to Business, and Tail of the Dragon, often exploring themes of freedom, individual will, and societal structures through a lens influenced by philosophy (e.g., Nietzschean overman concepts) and current events.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Footnotes

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

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

³ Noise and stability comparisons between eVTOLs and helicopters.

⁴ Butler County Republican Party endorsement and primary candidate details.

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

⁶ Joby manufacturing expansion in Dayton, Ohio.

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

Bibliography

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

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

Hoffman writes with the credibility of a problem-solver, the curiosity of an archaeologist, and the courage of a frontline witness who has gone to very scary places and reported what lurked there. Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of JusticeThe 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.

Comey’s Reputation Has Washed Away Like His Sea Shells: Its time for high tide, and to prosecute those who are dangerous in the world

James Comey has justifiably found himself in the crosshairs of another indictment. This time, it is not just some rehash of old Russia-hoax issue, which is very serious in its own way, or his handling of the Clinton emails; this time, it is for something far more sinister and far more revealing about the way power really works in this country. He posted a picture on Instagram last year of seashells arranged on a beach spelling out “8647.” To the untrained eye, it might look like a harmless beach walk memento, captioned innocently enough as “Cool shell formation on my beach walk.” But those of us who have lived a little, who have brushed up against the real underbelly of society, know exactly what that means. “86” has long been mob slang for “get rid of,” “cancel,” or, more directly in the circles I have known, “kill him.” And 47? That is the 47th president of the United States, Donald Trump. Comey knew what he was doing. He was sending out a signal, the kind of coded message that people in the shadows understand perfectly, while the rest of us are left scratching our heads, wondering why the former director of the FBI would suddenly become an amateur seashell artist. 

I said the last time he wiggled out of an indictment that he would keep pushing. And here we are. The indictment dropped just days after another attempted assassination plot against President Trump and members of his administration at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner held at the Hilton in Washington, D.C. The timing is no coincidence. The preparation for these legal moves had been underway in the background, but the justification—the public outrage, the manifestos left by disturbed individuals—gave them the cover they needed. The guy who tried to breach security at that dinner left a manifesto that screamed the kind of radical, unhinged hatred that has been stoked for years by people in high places. These are exactly the sort of fringe lunatics Comey and others like him have been winking at for a long time. I have said it before, and I will say it again: there is always a tiny percentage of the population—maybe half a percent—who are so unhinged that they will act on the signals sent by powerful figures. They do not need direct orders. A seashell formation, a casual remark about “hitting hard,” a call to “fight” in the streets—that is enough for the right kind of crazy to interpret it as permission. And when that happens, the people who sent the signal keep their hands clean while the blood flows elsewhere.  I actually provide several chapters of detail on this kind of activity in my upcoming book, The Politics of Heaven, and yes, God has assassins always trying to plot his downfall, in much the same way.  And we see that battle playing out in many levels of spiritual warfare. 

This is not speculation on my part. I have seen how this world operates up close, and that experience is exactly why I can look at Comey’s little seashell stunt and know, without a shadow of doubt, what he intended. I have never hidden the fact that I spent time around some rough characters in my younger days, particularly in the Cincinnati and northern Kentucky area. Newport, Kentucky, just across the river, was once known as “Sin City,” a place where organized crime ran wide open with gambling joints, brothels, bootlegging operations, and every vice you could imagine. It was the prototype for what Las Vegas would later become, funded by the same networks that stretched from Chicago to Cleveland to New York. The mob had its tentacles deep into southern Ohio, too—along Chester Road in Sharonville, in the shadows of City Hall in Cincinnati, places where legitimate business mixed with the illegitimate in ways that most people shopping for milk and cookies at the grocery store never wanted to know about. Judges knew what was going on and looked the other way. Prosecutors were afraid for their families. Cops took envelopes or pretended not to see. It was the way business was done, and I had a front-row seat because I could absorb risk without cracking under pressure. I did not drink, I did not do drugs, and people trusted me with large sums of money because they knew I would do the right thing. 

Let me tell you a couple of stories that illustrate exactly the kind of signaling I am talking about. Back when I was working for a company that dealt with a lot of cash flow, one of these characters—a guy connected in ways I did not fully understand at the time but later pieced together—asked me to drive him down to a townhouse in Cincinnati, not far from City Hall. I was doing legitimate business with City Hall in those days, so it did not seem out of place. He had a suitcase in the back seat of my car. I had a strict no-smoking rule posted clearly, and everyone respected it because I was the sober driver they could trust. While he was inside the house longer than expected, something felt off. So I cracked open the suitcase. Inside was a lot of cash and a lot of cocaine. I closed it right back up, left him there, drove straight back to the office, and told the bureau manager exactly what I had seen. The look on that manager’s face told me everything—he knew. They had been using me as the clean driver, the guy who would not ask questions and take them in and out of really dangerous situations. I did not work there much longer after that. It got weird. But I walked away with my integrity intact.  There’s a lot more story to tell, but let’s just say I’m still around.  Many of them aren’t.  Bad things happen to bad people, and I don’t have to spell that out with seashells on a beach.  

Another time, I was driving a professional sports celebrity—one well-known in Cincinnati—along with four of his girlfriends, all about my age. We pulled into a nightclub parking lot, and this guy, drunk as a skunk, dropped ten thousand dollars out of his jacket. Hundreds scattered everywhere in the wind. The girls in their heels were stumbling around trying to help, and one of them even broke a heel. I got out, chased down every last bill, and handed it all back to him. I could have kept some—no one would have known—, but that is not who I am. I have always been the guy who gives it back, who does the right thing even when no one is watching. That same circle of people trusted me because I was reliable, sober, and not interested in their girls or their vices. They sought me out to drive them around with their celebrity friends, stacks of cash, and all the temptations that come with that life. I saw the signals they used among themselves—casual phrases, gestures, the way they would talk about “taking care of business” without ever saying the quiet part out loud. Hitmen I knew in those days operated the same way. They did not advertise; they responded to the bat signal, the coded message that let them know what was expected without leaving fingerprints.

That is precisely what Comey did with those seashells. As director of the FBI, he spent years dealing with organized crime, making deals with witnesses, flipping hitmen, and understanding the language of the streets better than most street operators themselves. He knew “86” was not just restaurant slang for canceling an order; in the mob world, it has meant something darker for generations. He knew 47 referred to the man who had just been elected president for the second time. And he knew there were radicals out there— the kind who write manifestos and case hotels like the one at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner—who would read that message loud and clear. The same goes for the assassin who took out Charlie Kirk in September of last year at Utah Valley University. These are not isolated incidents. They are the result of years of reckless rhetoric from people who should know better. Eric Holder talking about “when they go low, we kick them.” Nancy Pelosi ripping up speeches on camera. Maxine Waters telling crowds to harass Trump officials in public places. Chuck Schumer, standing on the steps of the Supreme Court, warned justices that they would “reap the whirlwind” if they ruled the wrong way. These are not neutral political statements. They are signals, the modern version of putting out seashells on a beach. 

I can say without hesitation that I have despised Barack Obama for years. “Hate” is too soft a word; I see him as a product of the Weather Underground crowd—Bill Ayers, Bernardine Dohrn, and the rest of those America-hating radicals—who helped shape a worldview meant to undo the foundations of this country. He was always a communist at heart in my view, always playing the long game to weaken the United States from within. But even in my angriest moments, I never once contemplated violence against him. I never plotted, never whispered a word to anyone about harming him or anyone in his circle. The only thought I ever had was to defeat him at the ballot box. I rallied behind Mitt Romney in 2012, felt the sting when he lost, and watched John McCain play too nice in 2008 while Obama played hardball. Republicans kept bringing a softball to a knife fight, and we kept losing. That frustration is what led many of us to support Trump in the first place—he was willing to fight back the way the Democrats had been fighting for decades. But fighting back means holding elections, engaging in debates, filing lawsuits, and exposing corruption in the light of day. It does not mean sending coded messages that inspire lunatics to grab guns and storm hotels or snipe activists on college campuses.

That is why I got involved in politics myself. I want to shape the world the way I believe it should be—through truth, justice, and the American way. I participate in discourse; I write; I speak out; I support candidates who share my values. I do not sit in the shadows hoping some unhinged person will do my dirty work for me. The manifesto left by the guy at the Hilton showed real planning, real hatred, the kind of thinking that does not come from nowhere. It comes from years of mainstream figures normalizing the idea that Trump and his supporters are not just political opponents but existential threats who must be stopped by any means. Comey’s post was the latest in a long line of those signals, and the fact that it came right before—or right around—the time of another assassination attempt is not lost on me. The day after that incident at the dinner, the indictments were announced. The background work had already been done, but the public justification was now there.

People who have not lived the life I have lived do not understand how these things work. They think threats have to be explicit: “Go kill him.” But that is not how the real operators do it. They keep their hands clean. They project desire through symbols and phrases that sound innocuous to outsiders but carry weight for those in the know. I have known hitmen, judges who looked the other way, and mob figures who ran entire regions while pretending to be legitimate business people. I have seen how intimidation works—threats to families, dogs killed, cars blown up, houses vandalized. It happened all the time in Newport and along Chester Road in Sharonville back in the day. The mob had real power because people feared the consequences of crossing them. Prosecutors did not want their kids targeted. Judges did not want their reputations ruined. That is how organized crime survived for so long in southern Ohio and northern Kentucky. It is also how political corruption survives today. Comey knew this world intimately from his time at the FBI. He prosecuted some of these people, flipped others, and learned the language. When he posted those seashells, he was speaking that language, hoping one of the “crazies” on the fringe would act while he played the innocent Boy Scout afterward.

Look at his record. He let Hillary Clinton off the hook on the emails despite clear evidence of mishandling classified information. He sat on the Weiner laptop that contained damning material. The Hunter Biden laptop? Everyone in the intelligence community knew it was real, yet they suppressed it. The Russia collusion hoax against Trump was allowed to fester under his watch. These were not mistakes; they were choices. Choices that protected one side and targeted the other. That is the two-tier system of justice we have been living under for far too long. And when Trump got reelected, the desperation kicked in. The signals got louder. The seashells came out. Now, Comey faces charges for threatening the president and transmitting that threat across state lines via Instagram. Legal experts are already calling it a stretch, citing First Amendment issues, but I say those “experts” are wrong.  Wrong in a big way. It is time someone held these people accountable. 

The mob in this region did not disappear overnight. It lost power in the late 1960s and 1970s when federal crackdowns finally got serious, with casinos shut down and corruption scandals piling up. But the culture it left behind—the understanding of how power really operates, how signals are sent and received—lingers in the background. Normal people go about their lives unaware that there are networks of influence, coded communications, and people willing to act on them. I had the rare opportunity to see that world from the inside without becoming part of it. I drove the car, I saw the cash, I rejected the drugs, and I returned the money. I learned that ethics matter most when no one is looking. And I took those lessons into my political life. That is why I can call out Comey with confidence. That is why I know he was not just sharing a pretty picture. He was activating the same kind of network he once helped dismantle—or at least pretended to.

There is a larger conversation here about how criminal elements coexist with polite society. While families shop for groceries and cheer at ballgames, there is another layer operating just beneath the surface. In Newport during its heyday, celebrities like Frank Sinatra and Marilyn Monroe rubbed shoulders with gangsters. Money flowed through legitimate businesses that fronted for illegal ones. Judges played golf with the same men they were supposed to be sentencing. It was a web of relationships that protected the powerful. The same web exists in politics today. Comey is not some lone eccentric posting pictures; he is part of a network that has spent years trying to undo the results of fair elections. The attempted hits on Trump—multiple now, including the one at the Hilton—and the murder of Charlie Kirk are symptoms of a sickness that starts at the top with people who should know better. They talk tough, they wink at violence, and then they act shocked when someone acts on it.

I have never participated in or condoned assassination talk. I have friends and acquaintances across the political spectrum, and we disagree fiercely, but we settle it at the polls or in the public square. That is the American way. Anything else is the road to chaos. Comey needs to face the full weight of the law, not just for the seashells but for the pattern of behavior that has eroded trust in our institutions for years. He should never see the outside of a jail cell again if justice is truly impartial. The same goes for others who have played the same game. It is time to prosecute the signals as well as the shooters. The bat signal has been sent one too many times. The public is watching now. The manifestos are being read. The connections are being made.

Truth, justice, and the American way are not slogans for me; they are the operating system. And right now, that system is under attack from within by people who think they can signal violence and then hide behind plausible deniability. Comey’s indictment is a step in the right direction, but it needs to be the beginning of a much larger reckoning. More charges. More accountability. More exposure of the two-tier system that has protected the corrupt for too long.

The guy who tried to get into the Hilton had been planning. The killer of Charlie Kirk had a rifle and a clear shot. These are not random acts of madness; they are the predictable outcome of years of demonization and coded encouragement. When powerful former officials post cryptic messages right before or around such events, it is no coincidence. It is pattern recognition. I have the experience to see the pattern because I lived it. I drove the car. I saw the suitcase. I picked up the money and gave it back. I reported what I saw even when it cost me a job, a really high paying job. That is the difference between people like Comey. He chose the shadows.

There is a lot more that could be said about the history of organized crime in this part of the country. Newport’s casinos and brothels were legendary. Figures like Moe Dalitz and connections to Meyer Lansky funneled money that helped build Las Vegas. Local officials were bought or intimidated. The Cleveland mob had a strong presence here, as did Chicago’s influence. It was a sophisticated network that understood how to operate in plain sight. Numbers runners worked out of places like Chester Road. Judges knew the players and still presided over their cases. It took federal intervention and public outrage to clean it up finally, but the lessons remain. Power protects itself. Signals are sent. And the little guy who gets caught in the middle either plays along or stands up.

I stood up. I still stand up. That is why I am in politics, why I speak out every day, and why I will keep calling this out until real justice is done. James Comey knew what those seashells meant. He knew the kind of people who would hear the message. He knew the history of coded communication because he lived it at the highest levels of law enforcement. And now he is facing the consequences. It is about time. There needs to be a lot more indictments, a lot more prosecutions, and a lot more honesty about how the game has been played. The American people deserve better than manipulative elites playing with fire while pretending to be above it all. We deserve leaders who fight fair, who respect the ballot box, and who do not wink at violence when their side loses.

We have seen the underbelly. We know how the signals work. And we will not let them get away with it. The seashells have been swept away, but the message they sent will not be forgotten. Justice is coming, and it starts with holding people like James Comey accountable for the words—and the symbols—they choose to put out into the world.

Footnotes

1.  Details of the Comey indictment and “8647” interpretation drawn from multiple contemporaneous reports, April 2026.

2.  White House Correspondents’ Dinner attempt by Cole Tomas Allen, April 2026, with released video and manifesto references.

3.  Assassination of Charlie Kirk, September 10, 2025, at Utah Valley University.

4.  Newport, Kentucky, “Sin City” history, including mob influence, gambling, and corruption from the 1920s to the 1960s.

5.  Personal observations of Chester Road and Cincinnati-area organized crime activity consistent with local historical accounts.

6.  Examples of political rhetoric from Holder, Waters, Schumer, and Pelosi are documented in public statements over the past decade-plus.

7.  FBI and DOJ history with Comey’s handling of Clinton emails, Weiner laptop, and related matters referenced in official reports and congressional testimony.

8.  Hank Messick’s works on the Cleveland mob and Newport, including Razzle Dazzle and Syndicate Wife, provide a detailed background on the regional syndicate operations.

9.  General statistics on rising political violence post-2024 election drawn from public analyses by groups tracking domestic extremism.

Bibliography

•  Messick, Hank. Razzle Dazzle: The Story of the Cleveland Mob.

•  Messick, Hank. Syndicate Wife: The Story of Ann Drahmann Coppola.

•  Bronson, Peter. Not in Our Town (local history of Cincinnati-area crime).

•  Official DOJ indictment documents against James Comey, April 28, 2026.

•  News coverage from NBC, Fox, Politico, and BBC on Comey seashell post and related events, 2025–2026.

•  Historical accounts of Newport, KY, organized crime from Cincinnati Magazine and Northern Kentucky University sources.

•  Public records on political violence incidents, including the Charlie Kirk assassination and the Trump attempts, 2025–2026.

•  Durham Report and congressional investigations into FBI conduct under Comey.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

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

Hoffman writes with the credibility of a problem-solver, the curiosity of an archaeologist, and the courage of a frontline witness who has gone to very scary places and reported what lurked there. Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of JusticeThe 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.

Taxes Have Consequences: A Century of Mistakes, Human Nature, and the Path Forward

I’ve been catching a lot of heat lately for talking about socialism on my podcast, but honestly, I don’t see why it should be controversial at all. The pushback tells me everything I need to know: a whole lot of people have built their entire lives around government paychecks, public-sector benefits, and the steady drip of tax revenue that keeps the whole machine humming. They get defensive because the conversation about taxes hits too close to home. When you point out that the income tax proposal of 1913 was a colossal mistake—one that’s strangled growth, rewarded bureaucrats, and penalized the very risk-takers who drive real prosperity—you’re not just debating policy. You’re challenging the foundation of how they pay their mortgages and fund their retirements. And the data, especially from that outstanding book Taxes Have Consequences: An Income Tax History of the United States by Arthur B. Laffer, Brian Domitrovic, and Jeanne Cairns Sinquefield, backs me up every step of the way. 

Let me take you back to 1913. That single year changed everything. The 16th Amendment was ratified on February 3, giving Congress the power to lay and collect taxes on incomes “from whatever source derived, without apportionment among the several States.” Just months later, the Revenue Act of 1913 imposed a 1 percent tax on incomes above $3,000 (about $90,000 in today’s dollars) with a top rate of 7 percent on incomes over $500,000. It affected maybe 1 to 3 percent of the population at first, and early revenue was tiny—only about $28 million in 1914.  At the same time, the Federal Reserve Act was signed on December 23, creating a centralized banking system that promised stability but, in my view, locked in the same progressive-era thinking that favored administrative control over free markets. Both moves came during the Wilson administration, a time when socialist ideas were swirling globally, and centralized power looked like the future to some. Tariffs and excise taxes had kept federal revenue under 3 percent of GDP before 1913; after the amendment, the door was wide open. By the post-war era, federal receipts stabilized around 17-18 percent of GDP, no matter how high the rates climbed—a pattern economists call Hauser’s Law.  The pie didn’t grow faster just because the government took a bigger slice; people and capital adjusted.

What Taxes Have Consequences lays out so clearly—and what a century of statistics confirms—is that the top marginal income tax rate has been the single biggest determinant of economic fate, tax revenue from the wealthy, and even outcomes for lower earners. The authors divide the income-tax era into five periods of tax cuts and explosive growth and four periods of high rates and stagnation. When rates were slashed—as in the 1920s under Treasury Secretary Andrew Mellon (top rate down to 25 percent), the 1960s Kennedy cuts, the 1980s Reagan revolution, the 1990s, and briefly under President Trump’s 2017 reforms—the economy roared. Investment flooded in, jobs multiplied, and the rich actually paid a larger share of total revenue because the tax base expanded dramatically. In the 1920s, for example, real GDP nearly doubled, unemployment plummeted, and revenues from the top brackets rose even as rates fell. The same pattern repeated in the 1980s: top rates dropped from 70 percent to 28 percent, the top 1 percent’s share of income taxes climbed from about 25 percent to over 37 percent by the late 1990s, and real per-capita GDP growth accelerated. 

Contrast that with the high-rate eras. The late 1910s, the 1930s, the 1940s-1950s, and especially the 1970s saw top rates reach 77 percent during World War I, 94 percent during World War II, and remain north of 90 percent for decades afterward. The book makes a compelling case that the 1932 tax hikes—pushing the top rate to 63 percent amid the Depression—actually deepened the crisis. Revenue from the rich collapsed, investment dried up, and the economy stayed mired until wartime spending and later rate reductions kicked in. During the 1970s stagflation, 70 percent-plus top rates coincided with sluggish growth, high unemployment, and inflation that hammered everyone, especially the working class. Lower earners suffered precisely because the rich weren’t investing or expanding businesses when the government was confiscating the upside. The Laffer Curve isn’t a theory; it’s observable history. Push rates too high, and you cross into the prohibitive range, where behavior changes: less work, less risk, more avoidance, and ultimately, less revenue. 

I’ve seen this play out in real time with people I talk to. Just the other day, I was explaining basic economics to some younger folks who were upset they weren’t making enough money. Their lifestyles told the story—video games, complaints, minimal effort. I told them straight: this is a free country. You have twenty-four hours every day. If you’re only pulling in $20,000 a year, maximize the hours. Get a second job, learn a skill, take a risk. Once you get a little capital, that engine starts turning faster. Money makes money, but you have to earn the first bit through productive behavior. The progressive tax system we’ve had since 1913 punishes exactly that ambition. Why grind harder if the government is going to take 37 percent—or more when you add state taxes—just because you succeeded? The book spends chapters on this psychological reality: high earners respond to incentives. They hire lawyers, accountants, and lobbyists. They structure investments to minimize liability. They move. And who can blame them?

Look at the migration numbers today. IRS data from 2022-2023 shows high-tax states hemorrhaging wealth and people. California lost $11.9 billion in adjusted gross income from net out-migration; New York lost $9.9 billion; Illinois lost $6 billion. Meanwhile, no-income-tax states cleaned up: Florida gained $20.6 billion in AGI, Texas $5.5 billion, South Carolina and North Carolina billions more. High earners—those making $200,000 and up—drove most of the shift. Florida’s net gain came disproportionately from wealthy movers, whose average incomes were far higher than those of those leaving. This isn’t random; it’s rational human behavior. People vote with their feet when the “fair share” rhetoric turns into confiscation. The same dynamic happened after California and New York jacked up top rates: businesses and talent fled to Texas and Florida, starving the high-tax states of the very revenue they claimed the rich owed them. 

And don’t get me started on the people who lecture us about “fair share” while enriching themselves in public office. Nancy Pelosi comes to mind immediately. She entered Congress in 1987 with a few hundred thousand in stocks; today her family’s net worth is estimated at north of $280 million, with massive gains from timely trades in tech and other sectors while she sat on committees with insider knowledge. Critics have hammered her for years over this, yet no charges stick because the rules somehow allow it. The rest of us pay accountants to navigate a tax code thicker than a phone book while members of Congress trade on information the public doesn’t have. That’s not wealth creation through risk and ingenuity; that’s parasitic behavior enabled by the very system that claims to soak the rich. The book details how, throughout history, the wealthy have found ways around punitive rates—through capital flight, tax shelters, and reduced effort. Congress critters have a faster, easier on-ramp. 

This brings me to the real heart of the problem: the administrative state and the public-sector workforce that depends on confiscated wealth. I was in Washington, D.C., recently, and the parking garages told the story better than any chart. At 8 a.m., they’re packed—government workers streaming in. By noon? Empty. Half-day culture, cushy benefits, pay scales that often run 20-25 percent above comparable private-sector jobs when you factor in pensions and job security. Federal data show the pay gap persists; total compensation for many federal roles exceeds that of private-sector equivalents, especially at mid- to senior levels. Meanwhile, private-sector risk-takers—the ones who actually grow the economy—get penalized. We’re not funding productive infrastructure or national defense with all this revenue; we’re propping up a class of paper-pushers who enjoy lives the average taxpayer can only dream of. Democrats love to create these jobs and fund them with “progressive” taxes, then act shocked when the rich use every legal tool to protect what they’ve earned. It’s human nature. People who work hard, innovate, and build don’t willingly hand over the fruits of their labor to subsidize easy government gigs. The 1913 experiment assumed otherwise, and a century of data proves it wrong. 

The book hammers this point with statistical precision. When top rates are low, the rich bring capital out of hiding, invest it, hire workers, and expand the tax base. When rates are high, they shelter, defer, or produce less. The result? Less overall growth, which hurts everyone. Real per-capita GDP growth averaged around 2 percent across eras, but the booms under low-rate policies lifted lower incomes far more effectively. Poverty fell faster, wages rose, and government actually collected more from the top 1 percent—not because of higher rates, but because of a bigger, more dynamic economy. In 2022, the top 1 percent (incomes above roughly $663,000) earned about 21 percent of income but paid 40 percent of all federal income taxes—an effective rate around 26 percent after deductions. That share has risen over the decades as rates have come down and growth has accelerated. The progressive myth that “the rich get richer and everyone else suffers” ignores how the system actually works. Once you have capital, you can leverage it—but you earned that first pile by outworking and out-risking everyone else. Penalizing success doesn’t create fairness; it creates stagnation. 

President Trump understood this during his first term, and especially in the interregnum before his second term. His tax policies—cutting corporate rates, lowering individual brackets, doubling the standard deduction—aligned with everything we’ve learned since 1913. The 2017 Tax Cuts and Jobs Act delivered exactly the results Taxes Have Consequences predicts: strong GDP growth, record-low unemployment (especially for minorities and low-wage workers), and higher revenue from the top brackets. The rich got richer in absolute terms, but so did everyone else, and the government’s slice of the larger pie increased. That’s the opposite of the socialist collective model, which assumes we can perpetually extract from producers to fund a utopia. Centralized banking and progressive taxation were sold as stabilizers, but they became tools for an administrative state that grows regardless of economic reality. The Federal Reserve’s money creation, paired with endless deficit spending, has only amplified the damage—debt now exceeds GDP, and interest payments alone rival major budget items.

I’m not saying there should be no taxes. A consumption-based system—sales taxes on what people actually use, transaction fees tied to real economic activity—would align incentives far better. Fund highways and services through the people who use them. Let growth compound without the drag of income confiscation. The book shows that broad-based, low-rate systems maximize revenue while minimizing distortion. We’ve tried the Marxist-inspired “from each according to ability, to each according to need” approach for over a century, and it has delivered exactly what human psychology predicts: avoidance, resentment, and slower progress. Younger generations especially need to hear this. Stop waiting for the system to hand you enough; the system was never designed to reward complaints or video-game marathons. Get out there, create value, take risks. The engine only accelerates once you’re in motion.

The backlash I get for saying these things proves the point. People whose livelihoods depend on the status quo—government employees, public-sector unions, politicians who promise “free stuff” funded by someone else’s ingenuity—don’t want the conversation. But facts don’t care about feelings. We have a century of statistics now. The 1913 experiment failed. It fed a monster of debt, bureaucracy, and distorted incentives that neither party has fully dismantled. President Trump’s approach pointed the way forward, and the next decade must be about rethinking the entire process. Repeal or radically simplify the income tax. Reconsider the Federal Reserve’s role in enabling endless spending. Align policy with human nature: reward risk, protect what people earn, and stop pretending government workers deserve 30 percent more compensation for half-day effort while the private sector carries the load.

This isn’t some fringe, scandalous idea. It’s an observable reality documented in Taxes Have Consequences across hundreds of pages of data, charts, and historical analysis. The rich don’t pay their “fair share” under high rates because they’re not stupid—they adjust. The economy doesn’t grow when ambition is taxed into oblivion. And society doesn’t thrive when we build it on the backs of parasites who show up at 8 a.m. and vanish by lunch, all paid for by confiscated wealth. At their core, human beings do not want to slave away so others can live easily. That truth has never changed, and no amount of political spin or election-year rhetoric can repeal it.

As we head into the 2030s, the discussion will only intensify. People are done subsidizing inefficiency. The genie is out of the bottle. If you’ve followed my work, you know I’ve been saying this for years. Subscribe to my blog and business updates—I think you’ll love the deeper dives into these ideas and practical ways to protect and grow what you earn in a world that still rewards the ambitious. The progressive tax experiment of 1913 was a gamble based on flawed psychology and socialist dreams. A century later, we have the receipts. It’s time to learn the lesson and move on.

Footnotes

1.  Laffer, Arthur B., Domitrovic, Brian, and Sinquefield, Jeanne Cairns. Taxes Have Consequences: An Income Tax History of the United States. Post Hill Press, 2022.

2.  U.S. National Archives. “16th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution.”

3.  Revenue Act of 1913 historical summaries, IRS and congressional records.

4.  Federal Reserve Act of 1913 documentation.

5.  FRED Economic Data, Federal Receipts as Percent of GDP (historical series).

6.  Tax Foundation and IRS Statistics of Income reports on top 1% tax contributions.

7.  IRS migration data 2022-2023, state AGI flows.

8.  Congressional financial disclosures and OpenSecrets analyses on member wealth.

9.  Bureau of Labor Statistics and Federal Salary Council reports on public vs. private compensation.

10.  Laffer Center summaries and book excerpts on specific historical periods.

Bibliography

•  Laffer, Arthur B., et al. Taxes Have Consequences. Post Hill Press, 2022.

•  U.S. Internal Revenue Service. Statistics of Income historical reports (1913-present).

•  Tax Foundation. Various reports on historical tax rates, migration, and economic growth.

•  Federal Reserve Bank of St. Louis (FRED). Federal Receipts as % of GDP.

•  Congressional Budget Office and Tax Policy Center data on effective tax rates and income shares.

•  OpenSecrets.org and Quiver Quantitative congressional wealth tracking.

•  Bureau of Economic Analysis and BLS employment and payroll data.

This essay reflects exactly what I’ve been saying and living: free markets, personal responsibility, and an honest look at a century of bad policy. The evidence is overwhelming. Now it’s time to act on it.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

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

Hoffman writes with the credibility of a problem-solver, the curiosity of an archaeologist, and the courage of a frontline witness who has gone to very scary places and reported what lurked there. Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of JusticeThe 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.

Iran Was Never In Control: The dumb speculators, consultants, and lazy reporters were wrong from the beginning–as they usually are

I had just come back from Washington, DC, where the streets were already buzzing with preparations for the big 250th anniversary celebrations of the United States this summer. T-shirts were everywhere, vendors hawking souvenirs for what promised to be one of the greatest patriotic displays in our history, and yet amid all that excitement, I couldn’t help but notice the gas prices hovering around three dollars and sixty cents to four dollars and ten cents from Cincinnati all the way up through the heart of the country. It wasn’t the six-dollar-a-gallon nightmare some of the big voices in the media had been screaming about just weeks earlier, but it was high enough to make people uneasy, especially with summer travel on the horizon and the weight of everything else going on in the world. I remember walking those sidewalks thinking to myself how quickly the narrative had shifted, and how right I had been from the very first seconds when the trouble with Iran started flaring up again. I said it then, and I’ll say it now: the Strait of Hormuz was never going to be the catastrophe they wanted us to believe it was. Iran was never in control, and President Trump knew exactly how to handle it. The price of oil would drop dramatically—down around forty-five dollars a barrel very soon, maybe even by Memorial Day weekend—and with it, the relief would ripple through every corner of the economy, from fries at the drive-thru to tires on your truck. 

Looking back, it all unfolded just as I had predicted hours after those initial Iranian provocations hit the news. People who get paid big money to analyze these things on cable shows and in think-tank papers were out there forecasting doom: gas at four, five, even six dollars a gallon by summertime, the Iranian situation dragging on for months, maybe even derailing the whole anniversary season. But I saw through it immediately. The Strait of Hormuz, that narrow choke point carrying about a fifth of the world’s oil, had been threatened before, and history showed the pattern. Iran loves to rattle sabers, but they depend on those same waters for their own exports more than anyone. They weren’t about to turn off the tap permanently without shooting themselves in the foot. I told anyone who would listen—from my own circles to folks tuning into my commentary—that Trump only had to exercise America’s ability to secure the lanes, apply pressure through negotiations, and if necessary, block Iranian ports to keep the troublemakers in check. That’s exactly what happened. There were some talks, a brief window where Vice President JD Vance and others extended every reasonable mechanism for rationality, and when Iran refused—still wanting to provoke, execute, and pretend they held the cards—Trump moved decisively. The Navy went in, the blockade tightened, and the shipping lanes reopened faster than the doomsayers could pivot their scripts. By the time I’m writing this, the price of a barrel is already trending downward, and I have no doubt it will settle around that forty-five-dollar mark in short order, with gas prices following suit across the board. 

What amazed me most wasn’t just the outcome, but how few mainstream voices dared to say any of this from day one. I did. I’ve been consistent about it because I understand the players involved: Iran, China, Russia, North Korea—these are paper tigers at heart, regimes that create horse races and drama for lazy reporters and profit-driven interests. They bluff because that’s all they have left after years of internal rot. Iran’s people have been broken for decades under the weight of executions for the smallest dissent, forced dress codes, and a theocracy that punishes women for not wearing the right covering. They lack the unified will or the military punch to sustain a real blockade against determined American power. I’ve studied these dynamics long enough to know that when push comes to shove, they fold. Trump understood it too, and so did plenty of us who advised or observed from the outside. He wanted the Iranian people to have a chance to rise and run their own affairs without endless American entanglement as the world’s policeman. But when they couldn’t or wouldn’t stand for themselves after all the punishment they’d endured, we had to step in for the sake of global stability. A short, targeted action to neutralize the threat—that’s what leadership looks like. It wasn’t about occupation or endless war; it was about removing the bad actors so the rest of the world could breathe. 

To really appreciate why this resolution came so swiftly and why I was so confident it would, you have to look at the deeper history of the Strait of Hormuz, stories that don’t get told enough in the rush of twenty-four-hour news cycles. Take the Tanker War of the 1980s during the Iran-Iraq conflict. For eight brutal years, both sides attacked shipping in the Persian Gulf, laying mines and targeting neutral tankers. Iran threatened repeatedly to close the strait entirely, but they never followed through fully because their own oil exports depended on it. They harassed vessels with speedboats and mines, yet the flow continued, albeit disrupted. The United States got involved to protect neutral shipping, reflagging Kuwaiti tankers and escorting them through. And then came Operation Praying Mantis on April 18, 1988—a single day of decisive American naval action that should be required reading for anyone doubting our ability to secure those waters. After the USS Samuel B. Roberts struck an Iranian mine, the U.S. Navy launched a retaliatory strike that destroyed two Iranian oil platforms, sank a frigate and a missile boat, crippled another frigate, took out several armed speedboats, and drove off Iranian jets. It was the largest surface engagement for the U.S. Navy since World War II, and it ended with Iran losing nearly half its operational fleet in hours. The message was clear: threats and asymmetric tactics might make headlines, but real power prevails quickly when applied with precision. That history echoed in 2026. Iran tried the same playbook—issuing warnings, laying mines, attacking merchant ships—but once Trump authorized the response, the strait was back open before the summer beach crowds even arrived. No stalemate, no prolonged crisis wrecking our economy or the midterms. Just decisive action rooted in precedent. 

This brings me to the real villains in the piece: the speculators and the media ecosystem that feeds off them. I know quite a few of these characters personally—the consultants, the hedge-fund types, the Wall Street voices who strut like peacocks claiming they can read the tea leaves better than anyone. They don’t know how to fry a potato into a French fry, let alone navigate the complexities of global energy, but they sure know how to profit from fear. In this case, they wanted oil prices to climb. They hyped every Iranian move as the end of cheap energy, justifying spikes that would ripple into everything from chicken nuggets to cookie oil to tires. Historical precedent shows how this works. During past flare-ups, like the 2008 run-up or earlier crises, speculators in futures markets amplified volatility far beyond supply-and-demand fundamentals. Studies from the IMF and others have pegged speculative demand shocks at contributing 10 to 35 percent to short-term price swings, sometimes more when fear dominates. They bet big on disruption, and the media amplifies it with breathless reports, creating a self-fulfilling loop in which prices detach from reality. Independent energy production in the United States—turbocharged under Trump’s first term by the shale revolution—made us net exporters and far less vulnerable, but the world still feels the effects of global market dynamics. China got caught in the middle, reliant on that chaotic flow, while Europe and others scrambled. Trump played it masterfully, turning the pressure back on Tehran without overcommitting American blood and treasure. Speculators lost their easy narrative, and prices are coming down reluctantly, exactly as I said they would. 

The media’s role in all this has been especially galling, and I’ve watched it for years. These are often lazy reporters who develop a few key contacts, grab lunch, and file stories with minimal effort. They slant against the current administration or big-government skeptics because it keeps their editors happy and their ten-minute workdays intact. In this Iranian episode, they clung to the old script: Trump bad, chaos inevitable, prices exploding by summer. They ignored the structural realities—such as America’s ability to ramp up domestic production quickly and the Navy’s proven track record in the Gulf. I’ve said it before, and I’ll repeat it here: these regimes are paper tigers propped up for drama. Lazy journalism loves a horse race, especially if it paints free-market policies or strong leadership in a negative light. Meanwhile, the globalists and certain Wall Street interests used the antagonism to reshape political order, profiting from the very chaos they helped stoke. Oil should never trade above a hundred dollars a barrel in a rational world; it belongs in the thirties or twenties when markets are truly open. Policy bottlenecks like the Strait are artificial, and removing them—as Trump did—unlocks freedom for everyone, not just us.

I’ve never been one to shy away from these truths, even when it meant standing alone against the chorus. From the moment the Iranian actions escalated, I laid it out plainly: this was never going to wreck the summer or our 2026 economy. The United States, with its energy dominance, could weather it and force the issue. China’s reliance on Middle Eastern stability became a liability, its machine now facing jeopardy from the very disruptions it once exploited. Trump’s approach—securing lanes, calling the bluff, and prioritizing American interests without becoming the world’s endless babysitter—has been a masterclass. Prices are falling, volatility is ebbing, and the villains who bet on bad news are scrambling. I doubt many will remember the details of this brief flare-up by the time the anniversary fireworks light up the White House grounds, but those of us who saw it clearly will. We understood that removing Iran as an economic threat wasn’t about war; it was about prosperity. The bad guys—speculators, media enablers, regime hardliners—got exposed, and the American people get the benefits: lower costs at the pump, stronger growth, and a summer of celebration unmarred by artificial crises.

There’s a larger lesson here about how the world really works versus the narratives sold to us. I’ve spent years observing these patterns, from energy markets to geopolitical chess. Regimes like Iran’s survive on fear and control, but they crumble under sustained pressure because their people are exhausted from the blanket-on-the-head mandates and worse. Speculators chase easy money off volatility, but they hate when reality reasserts itself quickly, as it did here. And the media? They adapt to fluid conditions by clinging to outdated scripts that favor big government or anti-Trump angles. Trump knew it all along, just as I did. He gave Iran every chance for peaceful self-reliance, but when that failed, decisive action followed. The Navy secured the lanes, the strait opened, and the price of oil headed south fast. By Memorial Day, the relief will be palpable everywhere—from grocery aisles to road trips. It was never going to be a stalemate; it was a calculated move to protect 2026’s promise.

Some might wonder why I keep emphasizing these points. It’s because I’ve seen the cost of ignoring them. A few weeks ago, while speculation ran wild, people were bracing for economic pain that never came. I told folks then: listen, position yourself accordingly, and you could profit handsomely. Some did, and good for them. Others clung to the fear. Next time, I hope more people pay attention.

I’ve been consistent because the patterns are obvious once you step back from the daily noise. Iran’s provocations were real but limited; their control was illusory. The strait’s importance is undeniable, yet history—from the Tanker War’s mine-laying to Praying Mantis’s swift rebuttal—shows that determined power reopens it without endless entanglement. Speculators thrive on the uncertainty, but fundamentals win when leadership calls the bluff. Media laziness perpetuates the fear because it sells, but truth-seekers cut through it. For China and others hooked on that regional chaos, this was a wake-up call. For America, it was validation of energy dominance and strategic clarity. Prices are dropping, the economy breathes easier, and the 250th anniversary can proceed without the shadow of inflated costs. I said it from the start, and events proved it. If you listened early, you likely made some smart moves. If not, there’s always next time.

Bibliography

•  Strauss Center. “Strait of Hormuz – Tanker War.” https://www.strausscenter.org/strait-of-hormuz-tanker-war/

•  History.com. “The Strait of Hormuz: A Timeline of Tensions.” Published March 13, 2026.

•  Wikipedia. “2026 Strait of Hormuz Crisis.”

•  Congressional Research Service. “Iran Conflict and the Strait of Hormuz: Impacts on Oil, Gas…” March 11, 2026.

•  IMF Working Paper. “Oil Price Volatility and the Role of Speculation.” WP/14/218.

•  CFTC Report. “The Role of Speculators in the Crude Oil Futures Market.”

•  U.S. Navy Historical Center. “Operation Praying Mantis.”

•  Reuters and Bloomberg reports on 2026 oil price movements and de-escalation.

•  Additional historical analyses from National Interest and U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings on Tanker War and Praying Mantis.

•  White House and energy policy releases on U.S. shale production and energy dominance, 2026.

These sources provide the factual backbone for the historical and economic details sprinkled throughout, allowing readers to dig deeper and advance their own understanding of these fluid global dynamics.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

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

Hoffman writes with the credibility of a problem-solver, the curiosity of an archaeologist, and the courage of a frontline witness who has gone to very scary places and reported what lurked there. Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of JusticeThe 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.

It Was Always Only Going To Be, Vivek Ramaswamy: Amy Acton, the Lockdown Lady is a complete and total disaster

The excitement I feel about Vivek Ramaswamy running for governor of Ohio is not some fleeting campaign cheer. It is a deep, personal conviction rooted in years of watching Ohio politics from the inside, knowing the players, and seeing what has been stalled under the current administration. When I first learned Vivek wanted to run, it felt like a natural extension of everything I have observed about effective leadership in this state. I have known some of the people working quietly in the background on his behalf, and I have seen how the legislative agenda that has been bottled up under Mike DeWine would finally break loose under someone with Vivek’s energy, vision, and willingness to align with the changes happening at the national level. I have talked with Vivek directly about these things, and every conversation reinforces my belief that he is the right person at the right time.

I have been following Ohio politics for decades, and I have seen governors come and go. Some were solid, some were centrist placeholders, and a few were outright disasters. Mike DeWine has been a steady hand in many ways, but he has also represented the old guard that plays it safe, avoids bold moves, and leaves too many good ideas on the table because they might rock the boat with the establishment. That is where Vivek Ramaswamy stands apart. He is not a career politician. He built real businesses, created jobs, and proved he can execute under pressure. I see him as the perfect fit for the governor’s mansion because he brings fresh thinking to economic expansion, regulatory reform, and the kind of pro-growth policies that Ohio desperately needs after years of incrementalism. When he is in that seat, I believe we will see a vigorous, aggressive push on everything from attracting new industry to streamlining government—things that have been talked about but never fully delivered.

The primary process right now, in the spring of 2026, is noisy, as primaries always are. You have critics throwing everything at Vivek—his Indian heritage, how he made his money, his youth. I have heard it all, and I dismiss most of it as the predictable noise that comes when someone surges to the front. I supported Donald Trump long before he announced his first run in 2015. I was with him back in 1999, when he and Pat Buchanan were battling it out in the Reform Party. I have watched this cycle repeat itself with Reagan, with Trump, and now with Vivek. People who are frontrunners always draw fire. The media loves to amplify the drama because it sells advertising. Pollsters release numbers that seem tight because they sample in ways that lean one direction or another. But I have been around long enough to know that spring polling in a primary year is not the final story. By July and August, things clarify dramatically. The peripheral candidates fade, the serious ones consolidate, and the voters who matter—the ones who show up in primaries—make their choice based on substance, not sound bites.

I have spoken with Vivek about the critics, including those questioning his background or wealth. His response was straightforward and mature: if everyone is always on your side, something is wrong. That is the mark of someone who understands leadership. You do not get rattled by the noise. You win people over with results. Vivek has shown he can do that. He has been out speaking at Lincoln dinners, fundraising events, and town halls across the state. He is articulate, energetic, and has a strong partner in his wife. Those are the qualities that translate to governing. I have watched him handle crowds, including the occasional boo from a handful of people who had too much to drink at a St. Patrick’s Day event at an Irish pub where he made an unannounced appearance. The cheers far outnumbered the jeers, and he took it in stride. That is the kind of poise Ohio needs in the governor’s office.

On the other side, the Democrats’ best option is Amy Acton. That alone tells you how weak their bench is. Acton was the face of Ohio’s COVID lockdowns, and her record is one of economic devastation and overreach. She has a one-trick pony: “I’m a doctor, I care about health.” But when you look at the results, her policies crushed businesses, schools, and families. The 2019 police incident involving her husband or a family member only adds to the picture of someone whose personal life has intersected with public scrutiny in ways that raise questions about judgment. I have followed her career closely, and every time she speaks, she reinforces why she should not be anywhere near the governor’s mansion again. Polling showing her competitiveness is skewed by sampling in heavily Democratic areas like Cuyahoga County, where the same lockdown supporters still hold on to nostalgia for her “bedside manner.” But real-world results matter more than nostalgia. Ohio cannot afford another round of that.

The horse race today looks tighter than it will be in a few months because primaries are designed to be messy. You have candidates like Casey, the car guy, and Nick Fuentes-style voices on the fringes throwing darts, trying to peel off a few percentage points by questioning Vivek’s heritage or his business success. That is standard primary theater. I remember the same thing with Trump—people saying he was too much of an outsider, too wealthy, too whatever. Reagan faced it too; he was a former Democrat who had to prove himself to the base. I have never been anything but a Republican, but I respect people who evolve toward conservatism because they see the failure of the alternative. Vivek has been a Republican from early on, and he brings conservative principles with the added advantage of being young, articulate, and unburdened by decades of insider baggage. He is not a middle-grounder. He is the kind of conservative who can actually get things done because he knows how to talk to business leaders, legislators, and everyday voters.

I have roots in this state’s politics. I have consulted with candidates, watched the legislature up close, and seen how the Senate and House work together—or fail to—under different governors. Vivek already has strong relationships there. He has been building them for years through events and direct conversations. When he wins the primary, which I fully expect, those relationships will accelerate. The legislative agenda that has been stalled will move. Economic expansion will follow because business leaders trust someone who has built companies himself. Trump’s endorsement is not just symbolic. It is practical. Trump will campaign in Ohio in 2026 the way he campaigned for president because he needs strong Republican majorities at the state level to support his national agenda. He will be on the ground with Vivek, and that combination will be unstoppable.

Critics who say Vivek does not have full Republican support are the same voices who said the same about Trump in 2015 and 2016. They are lazy analysts who read polls taken in Democrat-heavy zip codes and declare the race close. Real polling—the kind that matters—is what happens when Vivek walks into a packed Irish pub on St. Patrick’s Day, and the crowd cheers louder than the handful of boos. That is the energy that wins primaries and general elections. Casey the car guy and the fringe voices will get their 7 or 8 percent, but they will not have the resources, the organization, or the broad appeal to compete once the field narrows. Independents and traditional Republicans will consolidate behind the frontrunner who has Trump’s backing and a proven track record of execution.

I have been through enough cycles to know how this plays out. The Tea Party movement evolved into the MAGA movement because people got tired of centrists who talked conservatively but governed like the other side. Vivek represents the next step: a young, articulate conservative who is not afraid to challenge the status quo. He has the temperament to win over skeptics without compromising principles. His wife is a strong partner in the effort. Together, they project the kind of stability and vision Ohio needs after years of incremental leadership.

The contrast with Amy Acton could not be sharper. She is the lockdown lady who turned Ohio’s economy into a cautionary tale. Her policies hurt working families, small businesses, and schools in ways we are still recovering from. The idea that polling shows her even close is a function of media hype and skewed samples. When the real campaign begins, when Trump is in the state campaigning like it is 2024 all over again, and when Vivek is out there speaking directly to voters about jobs, freedom, and growth, the numbers will shift dramatically. That is how primaries work. The noise in spring gives way to clarity by summer.

I am excited because I see the potential for real change. I have talked with Vivek about the critics, about the primary grind, and about what governing Ohio would look like. He gets it. He knows leadership means winning people over, not just preaching to the choir. He has the resources, the relationships, and the resolve to deliver. When he is in the governor’s mansion, we will finally see the vigorous economic expansion that has been promised but never fully realized. The peripheral discussions—the heritage questions, the wealth attacks, the fringe candidates—will fall away quickly once the primary is over. Republicans will unify because the alternative is unacceptable.

That is why I support Vivek Ramaswamy without hesitation. I have been a Republican my entire life, rooting for the party even as a kid. I have watched outsiders like Trump and Reagan prove the skeptics wrong. Vivek fits that mold, but with the added advantage of being a conservative from the beginning. He is the clear frontrunner for good reason. The primary process is doing its job—vetting him, testing him, and ultimately strengthening him. By the time the general election arrives, the choice will be obvious to anyone paying attention. Ohio cannot afford another lockdown-era disaster. It needs leadership that builds, not restricts. Vivek Ramaswamy is that leader.

The horse race today is a theater. The real race will be decided by voters who show up, who listen to the candidates, and who remember what Ohio went through under the previous administration. I have confidence in the outcome because I have seen Vivek in action, talked with him personally, and watched the pieces fall into place. The critics will keep talking, but the results will speak louder. This is going to be a good year for Ohio, and I am excited to be part of it.

Footnotes

1.  Ohio Secretary of State records and public reporting on the 2026 gubernatorial primary field, including Vivek Ramaswamy’s announcement and early polling trends as of April 2026.

2.  Public statements and campaign events featuring Vivek Ramaswamy at Lincoln dinners and St. Patrick’s Day gatherings in Ohio, 2025–2026.

3.  Amy Acton’s tenure as Ohio Department of Health Director during COVID-19 lockdowns, documented in state economic impact reports and legislative hearings.

4.  2019 police incident involving Amy Acton and a family member, as reported in local Ohio news outlets and public records.

5.  Donald Trump’s endorsement of Vivek Ramaswamy for Ohio governor was announced in early 2026 campaign communications.

6.  Historical polling data from Gallup and Rasmussen on voter ID support and election integrity measures in Ohio, 2024–2026.

7.  Ohio legislative records on stalled bills under the DeWine administration, contrasted with potential reforms under a Ramaswamy governorship.

Bibliography

•  Ohio Secretary of State. 2026 Gubernatorial Primary Candidate Filings and Polling Summaries.

•  Ramaswamy, Vivek. Campaign speeches and public appearances, Ohio Lincoln dinners, 2025–2026.

•  Acton, Amy. Ohio Department of Health records and COVID policy impact assessments, 2020–2021.

•  Local news archives (Cleveland Plain Dealer, Columbus Dispatch). Coverage of the 2019 Acton family incident and the 2026 campaign developments.

•  Trump, Donald. Official endorsement statements for the 2026 Ohio governor race.

•  Pew Research Center and Gallup. Polling on election security and voter ID, 2024–2026.

•  Ohio Legislative Service Commission. Bill status reports under DeWine administration, 2022–2026.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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 JusticeThe 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.

Getting ‘The Right Stuff’ Again in American Manufacturing: NASA needs a lot more than bold talk to beat China to the Moon

The recent interview between Fox News host Jesse Watters and NASA Administrator Jared Isaacman, which aired amid the high-stakes momentum of the Artemis program, captured more than just technical difficulties with an earpiece that briefly cut out audio during a live segment. It encapsulated a deeper tension roiling American aerospace ambitions: the urgent race to establish a permanent lunar presence before China, set against decades of bureaucratic drift, cultural shifts in the workforce, and policy choices that prioritized social engineering over raw engineering excellence. Isaacman, the billionaire entrepreneur and commercial astronaut who assumed the role of NASA’s 15th administrator in December 2025 after President Trump’s nomination and swift Senate confirmation, has injected a dose of private-sector urgency into the agency. Yet the exchange with Watters—where questions about beating China to a sustained moon base prompted the glitch—sparked immediate online speculation about whether it was a genuine malfunction or narrative control. Those who follow space policy closely understand the subtext: the United States holds a lead today, but sustaining it demands confronting uncomfortable truths about how DEI-driven mandates, union-influenced work cultures, and regulatory bloat have eroded the very foundations that once propelled America to the moon in under a decade during the Apollo era. 

To appreciate the stakes, one must revisit NASA’s trajectory since the glory days of Apollo 11 in 1969. That achievement, born of Cold War necessity and a national commitment to excellence under Presidents Kennedy and Johnson, saw the agency operate with a singular focus: land humans on the moon and return them safely. The program succeeded through relentless innovation, round-the-clock engineering, and a workforce ethos that tolerated risk in pursuit of national objectives. By contrast, the post-Apollo decades brought complacency, budget constraints, and the rise of the Space Shuttle and International Space Station as routine operations rather than frontier-pushing endeavors. Human spaceflight stagnated, with the shuttle program ending in 2011 after the Columbia and Challenger tragedies highlighted safety concerns but also exposed layers of bureaucracy. Enter the Obama administration in 2009, which inherited a Constellation program already strained but pivoted sharply. In a 2010 Al Jazeera interview, then-NASA Administrator Charles Bolden articulated what he described as one of President Obama’s top priorities for the agency: reaching out to the Muslim world to highlight historic contributions to science, math, and engineering. The White House quickly clarified that this was not NASA’s foremost mission—emphasizing inspiration for children and international partnerships instead—but the remark crystallized a broader reorientation. Funding for human exploration was curtailed in favor of commercial partnerships and Earth science, while SLS (Space Launch System) development, mandated by Congress as a jobs program across multiple states, ballooned in cost and timeline. By 2012-2013, as the administration emphasized diversity and inclusion initiatives across federal agencies, NASA and its contractors began integrating DEI frameworks into hiring, training, and performance evaluations. Executive performance plans incorporated DEI metrics, and contractors faced pressure to align with equity action plans that emphasized demographic targets over merit-based selection. 

These policies did not emerge in isolation. Across aerospace and manufacturing sectors, similar mandates proliferated, often tied to federal contracts worth billions. NASA’s 2022 Equity Action Plan, for instance, embedded DEIA (Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Accessibility) requirements into mission leadership selection, mentorship programs, and supplier diversity goals. While proponents argued that diverse teams foster innovation—as evidenced by claims about the Mars Curiosity rover mission, where varied perspectives allegedly enhanced problem-solving—critics pointed to measurable performance drag. OpenTheBooks analyses from the period revealed NASA allocating tens of millions to DEI-specific contracts and training between fiscal years 2021 and 2024, even as core programs like Artemis faced delays. Boeing and SpaceX, major NASA partners, navigated these pressures amid their own unionized workforces and supplier chains, where compliance sometimes trumped speed. The result? Extended timelines and cost overruns that dwarfed Apollo’s efficiency. Artemis I, the uncrewed SLS test flight, finally launched in 2022 after years of slippage; Artemis II, the crewed lunar flyby, occurred in early 2026 following further postponements linked to technical issues, hydrogen leaks, and integration challenges. Cumulative costs for the program through 2025 exceeded $93 billion according to NASA’s Office of Inspector General, with SLS launches now priced at around $4 billion each—far beyond initial projections of $500 million. These figures reflect not just inflation or complexity but systemic inefficiencies: multilayered oversight, “safety-first” cultures that sometimes masked risk aversion, and a workforce environment where political correctness and work-from-home mandates during COVID exacerbated disconnects between salaried administrators and shop-floor technicians. 

From an insider’s perspective in aerospace manufacturing—where physical hardware must meet unforgiving tolerances for flight—the cultural erosion becomes glaring. Large primes and their tiered suppliers adopted elements of the Toyota Production System (TPS) in the 1980s and 1990s, inspired by Japan’s post-war industrial miracle. Taiichi Ohno’s lean principles emphasized waste elimination, just-in-time inventory, and the Andon cord: a mechanism empowering any line worker to halt production upon spotting a defect, triggering immediate problem-solving by cross-functional teams. In Japanese facilities, this system thrived on a cultural bedrock of exceptional work ethic—deep bows at convenience stores, meticulous attention to detail in every task, and a societal emphasis on collective diligence rooted in post-war reconstruction values. Workers viewed line stops as a matter of quality and the customer, not as excuses for downtime. NUMMI, the 1984 Toyota-GM joint venture in Fremont, California, demonstrated that these principles could be transplanted to American soil, transforming a dysfunctional GM plant into a high-performing operation through rigorous training, respect for workers, and a kaizen (continuous improvement) mindset. Yet scaling this across U.S. aerospace proved elusive, largely due to entrenched differences in labor culture. 

American manufacturing, particularly in union-heavy sectors like aerospace and autos, evolved differently. Labor unions, while securing wages and protections, often fostered adversarial dynamics that prioritized job security and grievance processes over rapid resolution. The United Auto Workers (UAW), for example, navigated the bankruptcies of GM and Chrysler in 2009, yet patterns persisted: when issues arose—defective parts, process deviations—responses frequently involved slowdowns, Netflix viewing on phones during waits, or leveraging downtime for personal pursuits rather than pursuing aggressive root-cause fixes. This contrasts sharply with TPS’s “stop to fix” ethos, where Japanese teams swarm problems relentlessly. In aerospace, where suppliers cascade behaviors from primes like Boeing or Lockheed, the ripple effects compound. During the COVID-era mandates, remote work for administrators clashed with the impossibility of “building stuff” from home, revealing the fragility of cultures detached from physical production. Safety protocols, essential after historical tragedies, sometimes became pretexts for caution that bordered on paralysis, inflating costs and timelines. A recent tour of NASA facilities underscored this: late on a Saturday night, parking lots sat half-empty, with activity levels insufficient for the compressed schedules needed to outpace rivals. Contrast this with SpaceX’s Hawthorne and Boca Chica operations, where engineers and technicians work extended shifts, holidays included, driven by founder Elon Musk’s “hardcore” ethos of iteration and urgency. The Falcon and Starship programs demonstrate that meritocratic, high-engagement cultures can deliver reusable hardware at a fraction of traditional costs, pressuring NASA and legacy contractors to adapt. 

The geopolitical dimension amplifies these internal frailties. China’s lunar ambitions are no secret and proceed with authoritarian efficiency. Having landed robotic missions on the far side of the moon and established the Tiangong space station, Beijing aims to achieve a crewed landing by 2030 using the Long March 10 rocket, Mengzhou spacecraft, and Lanyue lander. Follow-on plans include an International Lunar Research Station (with Russia) by 2035, featuring habitats, resource utilization, and sustained presence near the south pole. Wu Weiren, chief designer of China’s lunar program, has outlined aggressive resource-development goals, unhindered by the democratic debates or union negotiations that constrain the U.S. As of April 2026, NASA’s Artemis architecture—post-Isaacman’s overhaul—targets crewed landings in 2028 via Artemis III or IV, pivoting from the canceled Lunar Gateway to direct south pole infrastructure: habitats, pressurized rovers, nuclear power, and ISRU (in-situ resource utilization) for oxygen and construction. NASA’s Ignition event in March 2026 laid out a $20-30 billion, multi-phase plan over seven to ten years for a base that supports month-long crew stays, leveraging commercial partners like SpaceX and Blue Origin. Yet without cultural acceleration, China’s state-directed workforce—operating under conditions that Americans might deem “unhealthy” but that yield results—could close the gap. The lead is “too great” only if maintained; hesitation invites reversal. 

Isaacman’s leadership signals a potential inflection. A veteran of the Inspiration4 and Polaris Dawn missions, he brings entrepreneurial grit, having overseen infrastructure demolitions at the Marshall Space Flight Center to modernize for Trump-era goals. The Watters interview, despite the glitch (deemed technical by most accounts, not evasion), highlighted Artemis II’s successes and Mars-forward experiments. But sustaining momentum requires a broader resurrection of the American manufacturing base. This means rejecting leniency toward policies that dilute merit—hiring, promotions, and evaluations rooted in competence rather than quotas. It demands seven-day operations, holiday shifts without complaint, and full parking lots at 3 a.m. Safety must remain paramount, but not as a shield for disengagement; engaged teams, as SpaceX proves, reduce errors through vigilance rather than bureaucracy. Unions supporting political shifts (many backed Trump in recent cycles) face a reckoning: adapt to competitive realities or risk irrelevance as smaller, agile players—Firefly, Blue Origin, and commercial upstarts—overtake sluggish giants. Suppliers must follow suit, cascading urgency downward rather than mirroring top-down complacency. 

Historical parallels abound. The original space race demanded Apollo-era grit: engineers sleeping under desks, welders iterating prototypes until flawless, a nation unified against Soviet threats. Today’s competition, while economic and scientific rather than purely military, carries strategic weight. Lunar resources—helium-3 for fusion, water ice for propellant, regolith for construction—could dictate cislunar dominance, influencing satellite networks, planetary defense, and future Mars missions. An American flag on the first sustained base is not symbolism but necessity, setting norms for celestial governance amid rising multipolarity. Sacrificing lives recklessly is unacceptable, yet charging forward with calculated risk mirrors historical precedents: D-Day assaults or Pacific island-hopping campaigns where objectives justified intensity. NASA’s suppliers, from avionics to propulsion, must internalize this; half-asleep workers awaiting problem resolution or LinkedIn job-hunting administrators undermine the mission.

My book, The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business (2021), anticipated these manufacturing and cultural crossroads. Hard-learned truths from COVID—when intent behind policies crystallized as micromanagement and reduced output—demand a return to basics: merit over mandates, engagement over entitlement, innovation over regulation. Trump’s second term, with Isaacman at the helm, has already accelerated Artemis restructuring, but longevity matters. Republican continuity post-2028 ensures that policies endure beyond a single administration, preventing a reversion to pre-2025 drift. This is not partisan rhetoric but pragmatic necessity for a workforce revival that dusts off “the right stuff”—the toughness, curiosity, and dedication that defined mid-20th-century America.

In aerospace, where atmospheric or orbital flight shares the same adventurous DNA, success hinges on compressing timelines rather than extending them. Japan’s lean techniques succeeded not through rote imitation but cultural alignment; America must forge its hybrid, leveraging individual initiative within disciplined systems. Parasite-like drags—DEI overhead, union-enabled slowdowns, safety-as-excuse—must yield to vitality. Recent conferences with major manufacturers reveal lingering Toyota envy without the execution; presentations touting incremental lean gains ignore root cultural mismatches. Smaller innovators will force adaptation, as they already do via commercial crew and cargo.

Ultimately, the moon base vision—sustainable habitats and a continuous presence akin to the ISS but extraterrestrial—demands more than hardware. It requires human capital aligned with purpose: passionate, grid-tough teams working around the clock because the frontier calls. China pushes aggressively, accepting trade-offs for primacy; the U.S. can lead by reclaiming its edge without mirroring authoritarianism, simply by unleashing latent American ingenuity. The Watters-Isaacman moment, glitch and all, reminds us that the stakes are real. With policies favoring merit, excellence, and intelligence (MEI) supplanting prior frameworks, and commercial pressure from SpaceX et al., NASA can reclaim leadership. The American manufacturing base, long crippled by self-inflicted wounds, stands poised for resurrection—if leaders and workers alike embrace the grind. This is the undercurrent of the current space drama: not mere technical hurdles, but a call to cultural renewal. Sustaining it ensures not just lunar victory but a broader renaissance, where adventure, innovation, and unapologetic excellence propel humanity outward. The 2030 deadline looms; meeting it—and beyond—restores what decades of deviation nearly forfeited. The right stuff awaits rediscovery, and the time is now. 

Bibliography and Footnotes for Further Reading

1.  NASA Office of Inspector General. Artemis Program Cost and Schedule Overruns. 2025-2026 reports detailing $93 billion+ expenditures through FY2025.

2.  Bolden, Charles. Al Jazeera Interview (July 2010), as documented in Reuters and CBS News archives on NASA outreach priorities. 

3.  Isaacman, Jared. NASA Official Biography and Confirmation Records (December 2025). NASA.gov

4.  Planetary Society. Cost Analysis of SLS/Orion Programs. Updated 2026.

5.  Ohno, Taiichi. Toyota Production System: Beyond Large-Scale Production. Productivity Press, 1988 (foundational TPS text, including Andon system).

6.  Adler, Paul S. “Cultural Transformation at NUMMI.” MIT Sloan Management Review, 1994. 

7.  OpenTheBooks. “NASA’s One Giant Leap Toward DEI.” Substack analysis of FY2021-2024 spending. 

8.  Reuters. “China’s Crewed Lunar Program Eyes Astronaut Landing by 2030.” April 2026. 

9.  NASA. Artemis Ignition Event and Moon Base Plan. March 2026 announcements. 

10.  Hoffman, Rich. Gunfight Guide to Business (2021). Self-published insights on manufacturing resilience and cultural factors in industry.

11.  National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine. Advancing DEIA in Competed Space Missions. 2022 report (context for pre-2025 policies). 

12.  U.S. Government Accountability Office. Audits on NASA project overruns, 2025.

13.  JETRO Surveys on U.S.-Japan manufacturing challenges (labor and workforce data).

14.  Nature. “China Planning Lunar Landing and Base.” April 2026. 

15.  Fox News Archives. Watters-Isaacman Interview Transcripts and Clips (April 2026). 

16.  Lean Blog. Analyses of Andon cord and Japanese vs. Western implementation. 

17.  CSIS. Reports on U.S.-Japan economic ties and workforce development (2026).

18.  Additional historical: Logsdon, John. John F. Kennedy and the Race to the Moon. Palgrave Macmillan, 2010 (Apollo context).

19.  Musk, Elon, and SpaceX public updates on operational culture (various 2020s interviews).

20.  Trump Administration Executive Orders on Ending DEI Programs (January 2025 onward). 

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

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

Hoffman writes with the credibility of a problem-solver, the curiosity of an archaeologist, and the courage of a frontline witness who has gone to very scary places and reported what lurked there. Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of JusticeThe 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.

Taxes Have Consequences: The scam of big government is over and people don’t want to pay for it

It’s April 2026, and the Ohio governor’s race is already heating up in ways that feel both predictable and strangely urgent, like a storm that’s been building for years but nobody wants to admit is finally here. Vivek Ramaswamy is out there every day talking about the real meat and potatoes of governance—tax policy, education reform, rebuilding an economy that still hasn’t fully shaken off the damage from the COVID lockdowns, and figuring out how to make Ohio competitive again in a world that’s changing faster than most politicians can keep up with. He’s smart, he’s successful, he’s got that background as a wealthy entrepreneur who actually built something instead of just talking about it, and that’s exactly why a certain segment of voters is going to find him intimidating or unrelatable. Not because they dislike success, but because campaigns are long marathons, and policy deep dives can start to feel like the same speech over and over by the time November rolls around. People get bored. They tune out. And that’s where the Democrats have their opening, even if their candidate is Amy Acton—the very same lockdown lady whose policies helped crater Ohio’s economy back in 2020, a hit from which we’re still recovering in ways that show up in empty storefronts, struggling small businesses, and families stretched thinner than they were a decade ago. 

Acton’s going to campaign on “nice,” on compassion, on remembering the good old days of masks and mandates, and there’s going to be a certain number of suckers who fall for it because memories are short. People don’t remember yesterday, let alone six years ago, when those shutdowns destroyed livelihoods and left scars that never quite healed. The Democrats have nothing else, so they’ll try to kill you with kindness and revisionist history while the rest of us are left holding the bag. Vivek knows this. He talks policies because he’s serious about fixing things, but seriousness alone isn’t enough in a primary and general election cycle that stretches out for months. You’ve got to fill the time, keep the crowds engaged, and capture the narrative before the media or some Hollywood production does it for you. That’s why I’ve been saying for weeks now that Vivek should talk to the people who’ve been seeing Bigfoot lately. Yeah, you read that right—Bigfoot. There’s been a genuine cluster of sightings in Northeast Ohio, especially in Portage County between Youngstown and Cleveland, with multiple credible reports coming in since early March 2026. Witnesses describe creatures six to ten feet tall, moving through wooded areas, leaving behind evidence that’s got even skeptics paying attention. The Bigfoot Society podcast and local news outlets have been all over it—seven encounters in just a few days, videos going viral, people genuinely traumatized or at least rattled by what they saw. 

Ohio has a long history with paranormal activity, from Bigfoot legends tied to the state’s dense forests and old mining towns to UFO sightings and ghostly encounters that locals swear by. It’s a liberal issue by default in the way mainstream media frames it—something Republicans shy away from because it sounds too “out there,” too unscientific for the buttoned-up policy wonk crowd. But that’s exactly why Vivek should lean into it. Trump understood this instinctively. He’d talk policy for hours, but then he’d drop the snake metaphor, tell stories about women’s sports being invaded by biological males, or do the YMCA dance at rallies to get the crowd laughing and energized. Entertainment isn’t fluff; it’s how you break through the noise, create shareable clips for TikTok and YouTube, and make people remember you not just as the smart guy with the tax plan but as someone who listens to regular folks about the weird, unexplainable things happening in their backyards. Those Bigfoot witnesses in the Youngstown-Cleveland corridor? They’re active voters in swing areas that could decide the race. Going there, sitting down with them, hearing their stories without dismissing them as crazy—that builds trust. It shows you’re not some elitist from out of state (even though Vivek’s a Cincinnati native who gets Ohio). It captures the high ground on “disclosure” before a new Spielberg movie or the Democrats turn it into their issue. JD Vance has already been dipping his toe into UAP and government transparency talk as Vice President; Republicans should run with it, not cede the paranormal and extraterrestrial conversation to the left. Tie it to the bigger picture of government overreach—why should we trust the same institutions that lied about COVID or hid economic data if they’re also stonewalling on what’s really flying around in our skies or walking through our woods? Vivek talking Bigfoot wouldn’t be a gimmick; it’d be strategic storytelling that keeps the campaign fresh through the long summer-and-fall grind. 

And let’s be clear: this isn’t about abandoning the serious stuff. The meat and potatoes still matter most. But campaigns are won in the gaps between policy papers, in the moments when voters feel seen on the things that actually touch their daily lives—including the strange ones. I’ve heard chatter about alternatives in the Republican primary, like Casey Putsch, the “car guy” from Northwest Ohio who’s positioning himself as the working-class everyman against Vivek’s success story. Casey’s got his appeal, no doubt—he’s a local entrepreneur, designer, and he talks a good game about being the anti-establishment choice. But let’s be real: Vivek’s the one with the vision, the endorsement from Trump, the Ohio Republican Party backing, and the track record that actually matches the moment. Some of the noise around him is uglier than that, drifting into racist framing that claims he’s not “really” qualified because his parents came from India. You’ll see it bubbling up from the fringes—the Tucker Carlson types who’ve lost their audiences by trying to drag MAGA into some fascist or openly bigoted territory. It’s nonsense. Vivek’s an American success story, and anybody pushing that kind of sympathy for racial purity tests is playing the same game as the social justice left, just from the other side. They’re not conservatives; they’re just different flavors of the same divisive poison. Republicans win when we reject that outright and focus on ideas, merit, and results. Vivek gets that. He’s not flip-flopping on property taxes; he’s being pragmatic about how you actually govern in a representative system. 

I’ve been following this closely because property taxes are the boiling point in Ohio right now, especially here in Butler County, where I live. Vivek’s talked about rolling them back, not waving a magic wand and eliminating them overnight on day one, and that’s smart politics even if some purists want the full nuclear option. Why? Because taxes have consequences—real, devastating ones that ripple through economies, families, and entire communities. My good friend Senator George Lang, the majority whip up in the statehouse and a guy who actually gets it, handed me a copy of the book Taxes Have Consequences: An Income Tax History of the United States not long ago when I was in his office talking shop. It’s a great read, and Trump himself wrote the foreword during his time out of office. The book lays out how the income tax experiment since 1913 has been a social Marxist disaster wrapped in good intentions, a pyramid scheme that’s warped everything from personal freedom to economic growth. Progressive taxation, the 16th Amendment, the way it funded bigger and bigger government—it didn’t build prosperity; it siphoned it off and created dependency. And property taxes? They’re the local version of that same trap, especially in places like Butler County. 

Let me give you the supplemental background here because this isn’t abstract theory; it’s what’s happening on the ground in Wetherington and every suburb like it across Ohio. Butler County used to be farmland—viable farms where families grew beans, corn, raised cattle, baled hay, and made a living off the land without needing massive government intervention. Then came the post-World War II boom, the Federal Reserve’s money printing since 1913, and the real estate developers who saw opportunity. They bought up that farmland cheap, subdivided it into half-acre lots, built houses, and sold them for maybe $100,000 twenty or thirty years ago. Every five or six years, those homes compounded in value—$150k, $200k, $300k today—because of inflation, low interest rates for a while, and the illusion of endless growth. Homeowners felt rich on paper. They paid their $1,500, $2,000, or $5,000 a year in property taxes for schools, fire departments, police, senior services, and roads, figuring it was worth it because their equity was growing. But it was a pyramid scheme all along. Banks financed it, the government taxed the appreciation, and local levies kept passing because people had “money in their pockets” from refinancing or selling at a profit. 

Fast-forward to now: those original buyers’ kids have grown up, the houses have aged, cheap materials have started showing their wear, and neighborhoods have gotten denser than anyone planned. New families come in facing $300k, $400k, or even $500k mortgages on 40-year-old homes that aren’t worth the cost of rebuilding. Two-income households stretch to make ends meet, but inflation has robbed wage growth; raises don’t keep pace, and suddenly the property tax bill feels like a noose. Butler County saw a 37% jump in values during the last triennial update, pushing tax bills up double digits for many. Schools built their budgets assuming perpetual increases; local governments did the same. You can’t just flip the switch to zero property taxes without chaos—mass layoffs in education, crumbling infrastructure, seniors losing services they paid into for decades. That’s not conservative governance; that’s ideological arson that hurts the very people you’re trying to help. Vivek gets this. He’s talking rollback, a gradual phase-down, and legislative buy-in from the House and Senate (where folks like George Lang have already been pushing reforms—billions in relief passed recently to cap runaway increases without voter approval). It’s the realistic path: wind it down month by month, year by year, while creating wealth elsewhere—through fossil fuels, space-economy innovation, and deregulation—so people can actually afford the basics again. Trump’s forward in that book nails it: taxes destroy incentives, harm the social fabric, and turn government into a beast that eats its own tail. Ohio’s feeling that now, because the runway on endless spending and taxing has officially run out. 

People are fed up. They see the size of government and get nothing good back. Republicans in the legislature and any serious governor know you can’t just “blow it all up” and expect 92% of voters to cheer while their schools close and roads crumble. You build coalitions. You explain the consequences. You show how the pyramid scheme of real estate appreciation—fueled by easy money and federal policies—hit the wall when inflation ate real wages and younger generations looked at half-million-dollar fixer-uppers and said, “No thanks.” That’s where the generational shift comes in, and it’s one of the most hopeful things I’ve seen in a long time. Watch the beer commercials lately—sales are way down among under-18 and young adults. They’re not smoking as much, not chasing the reckless party lifestyle their parents modeled. They’ve seen the dumb decisions up close: the divorces from financial stress, the two-income grind that left families fractured, the housing trap that turned the American Dream into a nightmare. The best rebellion now is being good—opting out of the Democrat-saturated culture of dependency, choosing smaller homes or conservative values early on, and building real wealth instead of chasing illusions. They’re not interested in the kings protesting in the streets or the victimhood Olympics. They want stability, and that starts with an honest tax policy that doesn’t punish success or trap people in overvalued assets. Vivek’s plan aligns with that future. He’s not backing away from his word; he’s building the political capital to pass legislation that delivers real relief without the chaos. It’s going to take guts, debate, and time—maybe decades to fully unwind—but it’s the only path. Gold standard ideas, wealth creation through energy and innovation, rolling back the 2%+ inflation scam that devalues the dollar year after year: that’s how you make homes affordable again without the pyramid collapsing on everyone’s heads. 

Sprinkling in those Bigfoot interviews or paranormal town halls isn’t a distraction from this hard work; it’s the spoonful of sugar that helps the medicine go down. People are sick of heavy government lectures. They want leaders who engage the full spectrum of life—the policy grind and the mysterious wonders that remind us there’s more to existence than spreadsheets and levies. Ohio’s got active paranormal hotspots for a reason; the state’s geography, history of industry and settlement, and even Native American lore feed into it. Capturing that narrative keeps the campaign alive, draws in voters who feel dismissed by the elites, and prevents Democrats or Hollywood from owning the “disclosure” conversation. JD Vance is already positioned there as part of the Trump administration’s push for transparency on UAPs and beyond; Vivek tying it to the local level would be brilliant. It worked for Trump because he made politics fun again amid the seriousness. It’ll work here too.

Taxes have consequences, as that book makes crystal clear. The income tax, since 1913, turned America from a limited-government republic into a welfare-warfare state experiment that’s now hitting its natural limits. Property taxes in Ohio are the canary in the coal mine—Butler County’s farmland-to-subdivision story is playing out statewide. We’ve got to roll them back intelligently, not recklessly, while infusing real wealth into the economy so the next generation isn’t saddled with our mistakes. Vivek’s the guy to do it, but he’ll need to keep the crowds laughing and listening with stories from the weird side of Ohio life along the way. The Democrats will throw everything at him—lockdown nostalgia, racial smears, fear of change—but facts and engagement will win. Ohio’s ready for a governor who understands both the pyramid scheme that’s collapsing around us and the human need for wonder in the middle of the fight. The next few months are going to test everyone, but if Vivek plays it this way—policy plus personality, seriousness plus the unexpected—he’ll not only win; he’ll reshape what Republican governance looks like in the post-Trump era. And that’s a future worth voting for, Bigfoot sightings and all.

Footnotes

[1] Details on Amy Acton’s role in Ohio’s COVID response and her current gubernatorial bid are drawn from public records and campaign coverage.

[2] Recent Bigfoot reports compiled from local news and eyewitness accounts in Portage County, March 2026.

[3] Property tax reform legislation supported by Sen. George Lang, Ohio Senate records, 2025 sessions.

[4] Taxes Have Consequences: An Income Tax History of the United States by Arthur B. Laffer et al., with foreword by Donald J. Trump—core analysis of 1913 income tax impacts.

[5] Butler County property value updates and tax rollbacks, county auditor reports, and commission actions, 2025.

[6] Vivek Ramaswamy’s campaign platform and primary positioning, official site, and polling data as of April 2026.

[7] Casey Putsch’s primary challenge context from candidate statements and Ohio Capital Journal coverage.

[8] JD Vance and broader disclosure/UAP discussions referenced in public interviews and the administration context.

Bibliography

Laffer, Arthur B., et al. Taxes Have Consequences: An Income Tax History of the United States. (Foreword by Donald J. Trump). Post Hill Press, recent edition.

Ohio Senate Records. “Lang Supports Billions in Long-Term Relief for Ohio Property Taxpayers.” November 2025.

WKYC and NewsNation. Reports on Northeast Ohio Bigfoot sightings, March 2026.

Ballotpedia and Signal Ohio. “Ohio Gubernatorial Election 2026” candidate profiles.

Butler County Auditor’s Office. Property tax billing and valuation updates, 2023–2026.

Ramaswamy Campaign Site (vivekforohio.com). Platform documents, April 2026.

Ohio Capital Journal. Coverage of primary challengers and tax reform debates, 2025–2026.

Trump, Donald J. Foreword to Taxes Have Consequences. As referenced in Sen. George Lang’s distribution and public commentary.

Additional supplemental reading: Historical texts on the 16th Amendment and Federal Reserve Act of 1913; local folklore collections on Ohio cryptids (e.g., Bigfoot in the Midwest).

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

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

Hoffman writes with the credibility of a problem-solver, the curiosity of an archaeologist, and the courage of a frontline witness who has gone to very scary places and reported what lurked there. Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of JusticeThe 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.

‘Taxes Have Consequences’: The path forward in Ohio regarding property tax destruction

I’ve been thinking a lot about the upcoming 2026 Ohio gubernatorial race, and there are always a certain number of suckers who are going to fall for the polished narratives coming from the other side. They won’t remember yesterday, let alone six years ago, when the lockdowns crushed Ohio’s economy in ways we’re still feeling today. Amy Acton, the former health director who became the face of those restrictive policies during the COVID era, is running for governor as a Democrat. She’s going to go out there and talk nice, sounding reasonable and compassionate, and a chunk of voters—especially those who don’t follow politics closely or have short memories—are going to buy it. That’s the danger. The meat and potatoes of any campaign are the economy, taxes, jobs, and everyday affordability, but the left has its playbook: when policies fail, they pivot to personal attacks, calling opponents Nazis or extremists because they have little else substantive to offer. Timing matters too. Vivek Ramaswamy is a wealthy, successful entrepreneur with a background in business and biotech that many admire, but some voters struggle to relate to that level of achievement. Others might get bored during the long campaign stretch from now in April 2026 through the November election. Months of stops repeating the same policy points can wear thin without something to keep people engaged.

That’s where I see a real opportunity for Vivek to stand out. Republicans have historically been uncomfortable with topics outside strict policy—paranormal stuff, cryptozoology, disclosure on unexplained phenomena. By default, those areas get ceded to liberals who love to explore the mysterious. But Trump showed how to fluff up speeches with entertaining content: the snake metaphor, stories about men’s and women’s sports, even dancing to YMCA to get the crowd laughing and connected. There’s plenty in Ohio to do the same. We’ve had a surge of Bigfoot sightings recently, especially in the northeast around Youngstown, Portage County, and areas between Akron and there. People are reporting large, hairy figures—eight to ten feet tall—moving through the woods, accompanied by grunts, musty odors, footprints, and even pets shaking in fear. It started clustering in early March 2026, with multiple reports in just a few days near Mantua Center and Garrettsville. These aren’t fringe stories; they’ve made local news, gone viral on social media, and drawn attention from Bigfoot enthusiasts across the state. Ohio already has a reputation for this kind of activity—Hocking Hills calls itself the Bigfoot capital with festivals, and the state ranks high in sightings historically. Vivek should talk to the people who experienced these encounters. Listen to their stories without mocking them. It would make fantastic clips for TikTok and YouTube—human, relatable, showing a candidate who engages real Ohioans on what’s on their minds, even the unusual. You don’t have to believe in Bigfoot to show attention to folks who feel traumatized or excited by what they saw. Those rural and small-town areas near Youngstown include voters who might otherwise lean toward Acton’s camp. Meeting them where they are and hearing them out could freshly capture the narrative and beat Democrats to the punch on engaging the paranormal, just as JD Vance or others could on UFO disclosure. Spielberg-style wonder isn’t owned by one side; Republicans should run with it and make it part of showing government can connect with everyday wonder and curiosity again.

The serious policy side can’t be ignored, of course. Property taxes have become a flashpoint in Ohio, and Vivek has talked about rollbacks or even bolder moves toward zero income taxes. Some critics accuse him of flip-flopping or softening his stance, but that’s not accurate from what I’ve seen and heard. He’s building support with legislators who understand the real-world constraints. My good friend Senator George Lang, the majority whip at the Ohio Statehouse, handed me a powerful book that puts all this in perspective: Taxes Have Consequences: An Income Tax History of the United States by Arthur B. Laffer, Brian Domitrovic, and Jeanne Cairns Sinquefield, with a foreword by Donald Trump. It’s essentially a roadmap for the tax policies we need moving forward, especially as we navigate the next few years under a Trump-influenced administration where Vivek could play a key role in Ohio. The book traces the devastating experiment of the federal income tax since the 16th Amendment in 1913. What started as a small levy on the wealthy quickly became a tool for social engineering and revenue extraction with Marxist and socialist fingerprints all over it. High tax rates have repeatedly stifled growth, innovation, and prosperity, while cuts—like those under Kennedy, Reagan, and Trump—unleashed economic booms that lifted average incomes and helped lower earners the most. The Laffer Curve, which Art Laffer famously illustrated, shows that beyond a certain point, higher rates actually reduce revenue because they discourage work, investment, and risk-taking. The book details how the top marginal rate has dictated America’s economic fate for over a century: sky-high rates in the 1930s contributed to the prolongation of the Great Depression, while post-war cuts and the 1980s reforms correlated with surges in GDP, jobs, and opportunity.

Trump’s foreword ties it directly to his own policies, emphasizing how lowering rates and simplifying the code boosted the economy before external shocks hit. This isn’t abstract theory—it’s history with data. The authors show how taxes harm not just the economy but the social atmosphere: they distort behavior, punish success, and create dependency. For Christians or anyone with a moral framework, it’s a reminder that stewardship and honest labor thrive under systems that reward productivity rather than penalize it. Ohio sits right in the thick of similar challenges at the state and local levels with property taxes. People are fed up. They’ve watched home values compound for decades through a kind of pyramid scheme fueled by easy money, Federal Reserve policies since 1913, and development that turned farmland into subdivisions. Twenty years ago, a house might sell for $100,000; through repeated appreciation—$150k, $200k, $300k or more—owners felt wealthy on paper. They passed school, fire, and police levies, and senior services, without much pain because equity gains masked the bite. But that runway has ended. Homes built with cheaper materials and packed closer together have topped out in what buyers are willing to pay, especially with dual-income families stretched thin by inflation that has eroded the dollar’s value. Young people look at half-million-dollar mortgages and say, “No thanks.” They’re opting out—less drinking, less reckless behavior, rejecting the lifestyles they saw drain their parents. Beer sales are down among the young; the new rebellion is living cleaner, smaller, and smarter.

The result is a brick wall. Property tax revenue, which funds over 60% of local school budgets in Ohio (billions annually), faces revolt. Voters reject new levies because they can’t afford the inflated bills anymore. Developers and builders know the game: buy cheap farmland, subdivide, sell high, watch values rise on cheap credit and inflation. But when appreciation stalls and inflation erodes real wages, the tax burden feels like robbery without corresponding services. Schools built assumptions around perpetual growth that never materialized in the long term. Fire departments, roads, and senior programs—all tied to this model—are vulnerable if the faucet turns off abruptly. That’s why a sudden, total rollback or constitutional abolition of property taxes sounds appealing to the 7-8% who want to burn it all down, but it’s not practical for winning elections or governing. A full cutoff would cause chaos: mass layoffs in education, larger classes, program cuts, potential school closures in some districts, and pressure to spike income or sales taxes elsewhere to backfill—sometimes dramatically. Legislators know this. Republicans in the House and Senate, including those Vivek would work with, recognize you can’t just flip a switch without grinding infrastructure to a halt. The state isn’t ready for an all-out divorce from local funding mechanisms that maintain roads, schools, and services.

Instead, the smart path is a deliberate wind-down: roll back rates gradually, reform assessment practices, cap growth tied to inflation rather than unchecked reappraisals, diversify with income taxes or other sources where feasible, and pair it with broader economic growth that puts more money in people’s pockets. Vivek’s background in wealth management and business creation, along with a high-level understanding of capital flows, uniquely equips him for this. He gets how taxes have consequences—not just revenue numbers but behavioral shifts, investment decisions, and social health. Critics framing his Indian immigrant parents as somehow disqualifying are drifting into nonsense that has no place in conservatism. That racial or ethnic attack echoes left-wing identity politics or worse—Hitler’s socialist Nazi tactics of division, not American conservatism rooted in individual merit, opportunity, and e pluribus unum. Nick Fuentes-style shock jockery or drifting toward Tucker Carlson’s more isolationist edges risks alienating the broader MAGA coalition that values wins over purity spirals. Real conservatism builds coalitions around shared principles: lower taxes, strong borders, economic freedom, and cultural sanity. Vivek embodies success through innovation and hard work; attacking that because of heritage is lunacy and plays into the left’s divide-and-conquer game. He’s not flipping on taxes—he’s being pragmatic, courting legislators who see the addiction to government programs built up over decades. Schools, in particular, expanded on the assumption of endless property tax growth from rising values. Abrupt cuts without transition would hurt the very families we want to help.

The book Taxes Have Consequences articulates this history brilliantly. It shows how the income tax, sold as temporary and fair in 1913, ballooned into a tool that funded expansive government and distorted the economy. Periods of low rates saw flourishing: the Roaring Twenties, post-WWII boom, Reagan era, and Trump’s pre-COVID surge. High rates correlated with stagnation or decline. Socially, it fostered resentment, underground economies, and a pyramid-like reliance on growth that eventually hits limits—just like Ohio’s property tax model. Inflation from fiat money printing since the Fed’s creation compounds it, making each dollar buy less while nominal home values create illusory wealth that taxes then erode. To fix it long-term, we need more than tweaks: sound money policies (gold-standard elements or currency competition), wealth creation through energy independence, fossil fuels, a manufacturing resurgence, and, yes, emerging sectors like the space economy that could infuse real value. Young people turning away from vice and toward responsibility is a positive cultural shift; they won’t sustain the old tax-and-spend model. Parents cashing out to condos leave fewer buyers for inflated homes. The market will constrain until costs come down or real incomes rise.

Vivek Ramaswamy has the best tax policy vision and rollback ability in the conversation right now because he understands these dynamics at scale. He’ll need guts, debate, and collaboration with the legislature—including voices like Senator Lang—to implement gradual relief without collapse. Sprinkling in fun engagements like visiting Bigfoot witnesses in the Youngstown area would lighten the heavy load. People are sick of government size and intrusion; they haven’t gotten value for their taxes and are ready for change. But winning popular support means meeting voters where they are—on pocketbook pain and on the human stories that make life interesting. Amy Acton will try to memory-hole her role in economic destruction and paint herself as the caring alternative, relying on short attention spans and Nazi-style smears when pressed on substance. A certain number will fall for it. But Vivek can counter by staying substantive on taxes while adding entertainment and genuine curiosity that Trump mastered. Go to those rural spots, listen to the sighting stories, and turn them into engaging content. It captures attention in a media-saturated world and shows Republicans aren’t stuffy on everything.

This race is about more than one election. It’s a microcosm of the national struggle: can we unwind the tax addiction built since 1913 without chaos, restore economic vitality, and reconnect with the American spirit that includes wonder, hard work, and skepticism of overreach? Ohio’s brick wall on property values and taxes reflects the national pyramid scheme hitting limits. Vivek, with his policy depth and ability to engage broadly, is positioned to lead that grind-it-down process—month by month, bill by bill, with the courage to debate and the wisdom to avoid abrupt pain that loses voters. Critics who want instant demolition ignore how representative government works: you persuade the majority who still want some services but resent the cost and inefficiency. The book from Laffer and team provides the intellectual ammunition, showing tax cuts as the proven path to prosperity rather than punishment.

As we head through these months of campaigning, the contrast will sharpen. Acton’s side will offer more government band-aids—tax credits, debt relief—without addressing root causes like inflation and dependency. Vivek can offer a real rollback grounded in history, paired with cultural engagement that makes politics fun again. Bigfoot might seem trivial next to billion-dollar budgets, but ignoring what captures people’s imagination cedes ground. Trump proved metaphors, stories, and showmanship win hearts while policy wins minds. Ohio has the ingredients: frustrated taxpayers tired of the endless levy cycle, a new generation rejecting decline, and pockets of genuine mystery that remind us life holds more than spreadsheets. Listening to those Bigfoot witnesses in the northeast wouldn’t cost anything but time and respect—it could humanize the campaign and pull in independents who see a candidate willing to engage their world.

Ultimately, taxes do have consequences, as the book details across a century of evidence. They shape economies, families, and societies. Ohio’s reliance on property taxes, tied to the same inflationary home-value game that national policy enabled, has reached its limit. People aren’t supporting endless spending anymore; they’re tapped out. Gradual reform, economic growth to create real wealth, and cultural reconnection are the way forward. Vivek understands this at a level that pure politicians often don’t, thanks to his private-sector success. Paired with pragmatic legislators who know you can’t flip the switch overnight without pain, he can deliver relief that sticks. The suckers who forget Acton’s past or fall for nice talk will always exist, but a campaign that mixes meat-and-potatoes tax reform with engaging, memorable moments can reach the rest. It’s going to take hard work, but it’s doable. Ohio’s best days can still lie ahead if we learn from tax history since 1913 and apply those lessons boldly but wisely.

Footnotes

1.  Details on Amy Acton’s 2026 gubernatorial campaign, including her background as Ohio’s former health director during COVID lockdowns and current platform on affordability, drawn from campaign announcements and coverage in early 2026.

2.  Reports of the March 2026 Bigfoot “flap” in northeast Ohio, with multiple sightings in Portage County near Mantua, Garrettsville, and extending toward Youngstown/Trumbull areas, including descriptions of 8-10 foot figures, footprints, and pet reactions; see local news and Bigfoot Society accounts.

3.  Vivek Ramaswamy’s positions on property tax rollbacks, zero income tax ambitions, and campaign strategy in the 2026 Ohio race, including primary dynamics and legislative pragmatism.

4.  Analysis of Ohio property tax funding for schools (over 60% of local revenue in many districts) and risks of abrupt repeal, including potential service cuts or alternative tax spikes.

5.  Historical context from Taxes Have Consequences on U.S. income tax since 1913, Laffer Curve effects, and correlations between tax rates and economic outcomes across administrations.

6.  Ohio-specific property tax reforms in 2025-2026 legislation (e.g., HB 186 capping growth) and ongoing levy struggles amid voter resistance.

Bibliography

•  Laffer, Arthur B., Brian Domitrovic, and Jeanne Cairns Sinquefield. Taxes Have Consequences: An Income Tax History of the United States. Post Hill Press, 2022. (With foreword by Donald J. Trump.)

•  Hoffman, Rich. The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business: A Skeleton Key to Western Civilization. Self-published, 2021 (expanded editions via Overmanwarrior.com).

•  Council on Foreign Relations or Tax Foundation reports on state property tax structures (general reference for the Ohio context).

•  Local coverage: Cleveland19, WKBN, New York Post, Fox News, in March 2026, Ohio Bigfoot sightings.

•  Ohio Capital Journal, Signal Ohio, Columbus Dispatch, and AP News for 2026 gubernatorial race updates on Ramaswamy, Acton, and tax issues.

•  Policy Matters Ohio and Tax Foundation analyses on property tax repeal impacts on schools and local services (2025-2026).

•  Further reading: Laffer Center materials on supply-side economics; historical works on the 16th Amendment and Federal Reserve; Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization (BFRO), Ohio reports for cryptid context.

These provide solid entry points for exploring the tax history, campaign dynamics, and cultural elements discussed. Dig in, think critically, and let’s continue pushing for better policy and engagement in Ohio and beyond.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

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

Hoffman writes with the credibility of a problem-solver, the curiosity of an archaeologist, and the courage of a frontline witness who has gone to very scary places and reported what lurked there. Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of JusticeThe 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 No Kings Sedition: Its all paid for by those trying to overthrow America

Democrats have been lying low in the shadows, licking their wounds after the last election cycle, and waiting for the perfect moment to strike back with all their usual finagling. They’ve been pounding away with constant pushback on everything from the economy to foreign policy, but the Iranian situation right now—this whole mess with the Strait of Hormuz and the threats of escalation—is where they’re making their big, calculated move. It’s not random; it’s orchestrated. They’ve been taking it on the chin for a while, staying quiet while the country started to feel the momentum of real leadership again, and now they’re emerging with their germs of dissent and their coordinated push because they see an opening. But here’s the thing I keep telling everyone who tunes in: there’s always a counter to their moves, and President Trump is the master of reading the room and delivering it. This Iranian thing couldn’t have come at a better time, even if it looks threatening and bad on the surface. If you’re going to confront it, do it decisively, get it out of the way before summer fully hits, and watch the gas prices snap back under control—which is exactly what’s going to happen. I told everybody weeks ago that the Iranians are not going to be allowed to clog up that vital waterway. It’s just not going to work out the way they ever wanted or planned. Their little game of running speedboats and firing rockets at tankers might make headlines for a day or two, but it’ll be dealt with pretty quickly. In the grand scheme of things, it’s not the insurmountable problem they’re hyping it up to be.

To really understand why this moment feels so pivotal, you have to go back into the background of U.S.-Iran relations, something I’ve unpacked in detail because it’s not just current events—it’s decades of bad policy piling up. The story starts in the 1950s with the CIA-backed coup against Prime Minister Mohammad Mossadegh, which put the Shah back in power and set the stage for resentment that boiled over in the 1979 Islamic Revolution. That revolution wasn’t some organic people’s uprising in the way the left likes to romanticize it; it was a theocratic takeover that replaced a flawed but modernizing monarchy with a brutal mullah regime that has oppressed its own citizens ever since. The embassy hostage crisis, the Iran-Iraq War, where they used human waves and chemical weapons, the tanker wars in the Strait of Hormuz back in the 1980s—including the U.S. Navy’s Operation Earnest Will and the downing of Iran Air Flight 655 by the USS Vincennes—all of that set patterns we’re still living with. Iran has threatened to close the Strait dozens of times over the years because they know it carries about 20 percent of the world’s oil supply. A blockade spikes global prices overnight, which is exactly what we’ve seen in the last few weeks with gas creeping toward five dollars a gallon in some spots before the latest pause kicked in. Trump pulled us out of Obama’s JCPOA nuclear deal in 2018 for good reason—it was a giveaway that funneled cash to the regime while they kept enriching uranium and funding proxies like Hezbollah and the Houthis. His “maximum pressure” campaign starved them of revenue, and now, in 2026, we’re seeing the regime double down because they’re cornered. I believe Trump was counting on the Iranian people themselves to take back their country eventually. They’ve been beaten down by decades of oppression—the morality police, the executions, the economic misery—but recent protests like the 2022 Woman, Life, Freedom movement after Mahsa Amini’s death showed flashes of resistance. Hundreds killed, thousands arrested, yet it fizzled because the regime’s Revolutionary Guard and Basij thugs are a mismatched bunch of enforcers, not a unified military facing a real, organized opposition. The people run around in rubber boats trying to clog up the Strait with rockets and mines, but that’ll be handled fast—not a big problem when you have real naval power and allies who understand the stakes.

Democrats, on the other hand, have always had a soft spot for Iran and other authoritarian governments. They loved the JCPOA because it let them pretend diplomacy was working while the mullahs built their bomb and spread terror. They cozy up to China’s Communist Party, overlook Venezuela’s socialist collapse under Maduro, and cheer whenever a strongman sticks it to the West. It’s all about it for them now—power centralized, control over the masses, the illusion of equity through force. That’s why this rash of protests we’ve been watching—the so-called “No Kings” movement—isn’t just a spontaneous reaction to the Iranian standoff. They attempt to manufacture chaos and shift the narrative back in their direction. And I think it’s a great thing in the long run. All this stuff forces the opposition to show their true colors. Elections, at their core, are negotiations over positions and power. Republicans have historically read the room wrong because so many of us are good Christian people raised to turn the other cheek. We forgive our neighbor even when that neighbor wants to cut our heads off and crucify us on live television. We look for ways to have lunch and find common ground, which is noble but leaves us on the wrong side of hard negotiations. That’s exactly why so many of us gravitated to Trump—he’s not the typical Republican who folds for the sake of decorum. Trump is about wins, plain and simple. He’s Republican in name but results-oriented in action, and that’s why people keep supporting him even through the noise. He gets things done. Just to let everybody know, Trump’s going to be back on the road this summer doing all that good stuff—rallies, appearances, the full campaign energy even though he’s already in office. It’s like he’s running for president all over again because momentum never stops. The best way to start getting everything moving in the right direction when you’re in a fight is to bring your past along—bring Speaker Johnson and the whole unified team, just like he did before. Get everybody together, have some fun, and show the country that government can be energetic and effective again instead of this dour, bureaucratic slog we endured for years.

I would also say to everybody paying attention that disclosure is a smart play here. Releasing more on the UFO/UAP files takes away a huge media headline that the Democrats and their allies have been salivating over. They love that stuff because it feeds into narratives of government secrecy and elite control, something very close to their hearts. Trump could snatch that away from them entirely, and he’s already signaling he’s willing to do a lot of good things in that space. It gives him leeway on the Iranian deal, too—he has to give a little on the political theater side to break something loose that’s been a problem forever. Ultimately, it will bring gas prices down to a great level and solve many downstream issues. There are plenty of speculators out there right now profiting off the manufactured crisis; media reports are spiking prices for the moment, but they’ll get back under control pretty fast once the Strait reopens and the visits from U.S. assets make their point. Let’s talk more about the “No Kings” movement because calling Trump a king or an authoritarian is the height of projection. He certainly isn’t one, but I think all this noise is good because it forces the opposition to reveal who they really are. I’ve seen these movements pop up in England, all over Europe, Washington D.C., and right here at the Ohio Statehouse in Columbus—not far from my home in Middletown. They look the same everywhere: not organic grassroots uprisings driven by free speech or genuine voter frustration. This is a coordinated effort involving roughly 500 organizations—radical liberal, socialist, and even radical Islamic elements—all tied together by the Soros network. George Soros and his son Alex have poured billions—estimates put the Open Society Foundations and related groups at over three billion dollars funneled through these channels—buying influence, printing signs, busing people in, and funding media amplification. If not for the money, a lot of these folks wouldn’t show up at all. They’re franchise Democrats who turn out for a free lunch, a free T-shirt, or a pallet of pre-printed rocks and signs ready to throw. That’s the kind of organization we’re dealing with—hostile to the American experiment, cheerleading from corporate media outlets that pretend it’s all spontaneous outrage against the Trump White House.

In my view, and I’ve said this locally in Ohio and at the federal level, this “No Kings” push is no organic movement. It’s a paid-for infomercial produced by the radical left to try to destroy the United States from within. They used to hide behind other liberal causes—racism narratives, minority crisis issues—but now the mask is off with a bunch of crazy radicals who look and sound like people you wouldn’t want to sit next to on a bus. Those are the faces on TV advocating for the movement, and it’s pushing independents straight into the arms of Republicans. If only the GOP would dare wrap its arms around those voters, it couldn’t be easier. Trump has a clear strategy to steer things back on track, playing the Iran game in a way no previous president has dared. That’s why these problems festered in the background for so long—the left’s weapons of radical Islam, radical Marxism, and communism are being taken away one by one. So, of course, the money flows: three billion dollars into five hundred organizations, protests erupting like clockwork the moment Trump takes a hard line. But here’s the reality check: locally in Ohio, where I live, and certainly at the national level, Democrats have scored a few little pickup victories only when Republicans got asleep at the wheel or too cocky riding the Trump wave without defending turf properly. Some in the party got their hearts out of it because they secretly expected Democrats to retake power and didn’t want the responsibility that comes with winning. It’s hard when you’re in charge—you have no one to complain about except yourself. There’s a fair number of Republicans who want Democrats back in so they can stay in the comfortable role of opposition. This movement gives them an off-ramp from behaving like actual Republicans. But it’s going to blow up in everybody’s face because it’s not organic. It’s a funded operation by radicals who’ve been trying to undermine the country for decades. What they don’t have anymore is the polite illusion. People watching these idiots on TV are saying, “I don’t want that. I don’t want to be associated with that. I can’t vote for that.” It’s pushing the country the other way.

Just look at the contrast: Trump supporters stand in line for eight, twelve, twenty-four hours to get a seat ten rows back at a rally because they’re excited about real change. These protest crowds don’t have that energy. They’ve got franchise lunatics trading time for cash, drugs, or free swag. They’re not high-quality people showing up on camera, and it’s kind of humorous how badly it makes their side look. As far as worrying about it goes, only Republicans who don’t understand how to read the leaves are sweating this. They need more confidence in themselves because the victory is clear if you’re actually listening beyond the nightly news spin. Where do you think all that three billion dollars is coming from, and who’s receiving it? The media will say anything for a few bucks or a free steak dinner, but that money buys influence and it shows in the quality of the foot soldiers—radical losers who look horrible on screen and remind everyday Americans exactly why they voted for Trump in the first place. The most likely consequence as we head into June and July—especially if Trump keeps the pressure on without letting the Democrats steal the narrative—is that gas prices recover rapidly. This isn’t something that lingers for years or even months once the Strait issue is settled. Real victories are there for the taking, and it really comes down to having the courage to stay in power whether some in the party want the responsibility or not. Democrats don’t have much gas left in their tank; it takes three billion dollars just to get their people to show up and look stupid on camera. That’s not a winning position. You might as well be a Republican right now, and that’s how the ball is going to bounce when the dust settles. Don’t worry about it. It’s going to come out just the way logic and history say it will. In the meantime, they’re being exposed as the crazy lunatics they always were, and we know exactly how much they were paid to act that way. Good things come to those who wait, especially those who hate what we’ve picked for representative government and are trying to flatten the tires to push toward the midterms. They’re acting desperate, and desperate doesn’t photograph well. Looking good for Republicans overall.

If you ever want to dig deeper into the philosophy that underpins all this—how to navigate chaos, win negotiations, and build something lasting instead of tearing down—I’d point you toward my book, The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business: A Skeleton Key to Western Civilization. It lays out the mindset that treats life and politics like the Old West: know your terrain, carry the right tools, and don’t apologize for defending what’s yours. Trump embodies a lot of that frontier spirit, which is why the radical left hates it so much. They prefer managed decline and dependency. We prefer wins, clarity, and a government that gets out of the way so people can thrive.

Looking ahead, Trump’s going to keep leveraging this Iran situation for broader gains—getting the Russia-Ukraine conflict out of the headlines where it’s been conveniently ignored, pushing for better negotiating positions on everything from rare earth metals to energy independence. A lot is going on behind the scenes that’s headed toward proper closure, and the Democrats know it. That’s why the protests are ramping up—to try and bring people to their cause. But again, their whole side is paid for. It’s not organic. It’s not the kind of passion that fills arenas or lines up for hours. It’s manufactured, and the country is seeing through it. The bad guys are desperate, and that desperation is their undoing. Republicans need to keep reading the room correctly, stay unified, and remember that we win when we stop turning the other cheek and start delivering results. I’m confident it’s all going to balance out in our favor by the time summer rolls around, and the American people will be reminded once again why they put their trust in leadership that actually fights for them.

Footnotes

1.  Recent reporting on the April 2026 U.S.-Iran ceasefire negotiations and Strait of Hormuz reopening conditional on infrastructure threats; see coverage from Reuters and Al Jazeera on Trump’s deadlines and conditional pause.

2.  Background on U.S.-Iran history drawn from Council on Foreign Relations timelines, including JCPOA withdrawal (2018), maximum pressure campaign, and 2022-2023 Woman, Life, Freedom protests (BBC, Human Rights Watch reports on regime crackdowns).

3.  Trump’s 2026 public schedule and rally-style events referenced in White House releases and conservative outlets, noting continued campaign-style travel.

4.  “No Kings” protest network details, including Indivisible’s Soros/Open Society Foundations grants (~$3M direct) and broader ecosystem of 500+ progressive groups with combined revenues exceeding $3 billion; Fox News investigations and Capital Research Center analyses of funding flows.

5.  Ohio-specific protest activity at Statehouse and local coverage in Columbus Dispatch/Middletown outlets; national patterns documented in New York Post and Washington Examiner reporting on astroturf elements.

Bibliography

•  Council on Foreign Relations. “U.S.-Iran Relations: A Timeline.” CFR.org (updated 2026).

•  Open Society Foundations annual reports and grant databases (public filings via InfluenceWatch/Capital Research Center).

•  Human Rights Watch. “Iran: Crackdown on Woman, Life, Freedom Protests” (2022-2025 updates).

•  Hoffman, Rich. The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business: A Skeleton Key to Western Civilization. Self-published, 2021 (expanded editions available via Overmanwarrior.com).

•  Reuters. “Trump Announces Conditional Ceasefire in Iran Standoff” (April 2026).

•  Fox News. “Soros Network Funds ‘No Kings’ Protests: Inside the $3B Progressive Machine” (2026 investigative series).

•  BBC Persian Service archives on Iranian internal dissent and Strait of Hormuz incidents.

•  U.S. Energy Information Administration. “Strait of Hormuz Oil Transit Chokepoint” (fact sheets, 2026).

•  Additional further reading: George Soros’s Open Society writings for a primary source on his philanthropy philosophy; compare with critiques in David Horowitz’s The Shadow Party (updated editions) and recent think-tank papers from Heritage Foundation on foreign policy leverage strategies.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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

About the Author: Rich Hoffman

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

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

Hoffman writes with the credibility of a problem-solver, the curiosity of an archaeologist, and the courage of a frontline witness who has gone to very scary places and reported what lurked there. Hoffman has authored books including The Symposium of JusticeThe 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.