USAID: A slush fund for the deep state



As I write this, President Trump is on the verge of shutting down the U.S. Agency for International Development. This will be one of the most important and essential moves of his presidency. Few institutions in modern history have operated with such sinister intent while positioning themselves as a force for good.

When USAID collapses, it will be a victory for the American people.

The agency provided tens of millions of dollars to the same organization linked to dangerous gain-of-function research at the Wuhan Institute of Virology.

For decades, USAID has been billed as the United States' primary vehicle for humanitarian and development assistance abroad. We're assured that its mission is noble: fostering economic growth, providing disaster relief, and supporting democracy-building initiatives.

However, its actual mission is anything but noble.

A vehicle for absolute chaos

It involves supporting covert operations, regime-change efforts, and activities that align more with the CIA than with humanitarian initiatives. For far too long, USAID has served as a dangerous instrument of empire, one that has actively weakened democracy abroad while draining American taxpayers at home.

To understand USAID’s true nature, one must start with its origins. The agency was established in 1961 by President John F. Kennedy, ostensibly to assist developing nations in modernizing and alleviating poverty.

But from the very beginning, the waters were poisoned.

Former USAID Director John Gilligan admitted as much, stating, "At one time, many AID field offices were infiltrated from top to bottom with CIA people."

This was no accident. USAID has long served as a hub for intelligence operations, shaping political movements and offering protection for various swamp creatures, one of whom will be discussed shortly.

Forced sterilization

One of USAID’s most notorious branches was its Office of Public Safety, which functioned throughout the 1960s and early 1970s. OPS presented itself as an organization dedicated to training foreign police forces in modern law enforcement techniques.

In reality, it was a training ground for torturers. In Brazil, USAID-linked operatives taught police forces to refine their brutality, introducing methods that would later be classified as "enhanced interrogation" techniques.

"Enhanced interrogation" is a more polite way of saying state-sanctioned sadism. The same techniques that would later be framed in legal terms during the War on Terror — stress positions, sensory deprivation, waterboarding — were initially described as "security assistance" to South American forces. The office was eventually shuttered in 1974, yet USAID’s role in such sordid operations never truly ended.

Beyond its direct involvement in torture, the agency has also played a key role in population control efforts. In the 1960s, USAID began funding forced sterilization programs across the globe.

Under the leadership of Dr. Reimert Thorolf Ravenholt, USAID’s Office of Population implemented mass sterilization campaigns in countries ranging from India to Peru. These programs often targeted impoverished communities, where women were subjected to sterilization procedures without informed consent.

Worse, USAID funneled money to organizations that distributed defective contraceptives and IUDs, many of which caused severe harm or even death.

While they marketed these programs as efforts to combat poverty, they were nothing more than eugenics under a different name.

Aiding China

In 2014, it was revealed that USAID had made a number of bungled, easily detected attempts to recruit anti-government activists in Cuba — including the creation of a "Cuban Twitter," launching a hip-hop festival, and staging an HIV workshop. These efforts resulted in the arrest of one American and the detainment and interrogation of a number of Cubans.

More recently, USAID has been involved in questionable funding of controversial scientific research. The agency provided tens of millions of dollars to Peter Daszak's EcoHealth Alliance, the same organization linked to dangerous gain-of-function research at the Wuhan Institute of Virology. Disguised as an academic grant, it was essentially a blank check for experiments that manipulated viral evolution, raising significant questions about what the U.S. government knew and when.

Funding left-wing lunacy

The agency has a notorious reputation for squandering taxpayer money on unsuccessful, even pointless, projects. Billions of dollars have been funneled into initiatives that produce little to no measurable success. In many cases, USAID has actually made conditions worse by fostering corruption and dependency rather than genuine economic growth.

This fact is not lost on Richard Grenell. The former acting director of national intelligence and U.S. ambassador to Germany recently took to X to point a virtual finger at one of the biggest wasters of money: Samantha Power.

A deep-state official and a puppet of the Obama administration, Power served as the USAID administrator until very recently. Grenell accused her of wasting excessive sums on extreme left-wing agendas that most Americans would actively oppose. He suggested that an investigation is long overdue. He's right. The American people deserve answers. They deserve the truth.

You, the reader, deserve full transparency.

This includes information about USAID’s connections to corrupt corporate interests. Behind the vague promise of "economic development," the agency has consistently acted as a gateway for U.S. corporations to exploit foreign markets. It has financed projects that benefit multinational agribusinesses, biotech companies, and pharmaceutical giants instead of the populations it claims to assist.

For instance, in Ethiopia, USAID overlooked human rights violations while directing aid money into development initiatives that displaced thousands. The agency has consistently operated more as a tool of economic imperialism than as a humanitarian organization.

End the madness

When President Trump shuts down USAID, he will be doing the country a massive favor. He will eliminate a fraudulent, exploitative, intelligence-linked entity that has long since outlived any usefulness it may once have had. One might argue that it was never useful to begin with — unless, of course, you happen to be someone like Samantha Power.

She's gone, and it's time her beloved agency went the same way.

The notion that America should act as a global benefactor through an organization that consistently undermines its own interests is absurd. True humanitarian assistance should be voluntary and transparent, not a front for crime and coercion.

Rock gods or riff thieves? Reigniting the Led Zeppelin debate



NOTE: For Blaze News senior editor Dave Urbanski's response to this piece, click here.

A new Led Zeppelin documentary hits theaters this Friday, ready to remind everyone why the group is still one of rock’s greatest bands.

It’s all there —Jimmy Page’s searing riffs, Robert Plant’s ethereal vocals, John Paul Jones’ masterful grooves, and John Bonham’s thunderous drums — bursting from IMAX screens with the energy that made Zeppelin legendary.

The music industry is littered with examples of artists walking a fine line between inspiration and outright theft, often stepping well over it.

But even as the film celebrates Led Zeppelin's glory, an old question refuses to die: How much of that brilliance was theirs to begin with?

Whole Lotta Controversy

The accusations are hardly new. The band's most iconic song, “Stairway to Heaven,” has been embroiled in controversy for decades, accused of lifting its opening riff from Spirit’s “Taurus.” The similarities are impossible to ignore. Honestly, you’d have to be tone-deaf — or actually deaf — not to notice the unmistakable descending acoustic progression that led to a courtroom battle.

Zeppelin may have won the case, but it reopened long-standing questions about the band's creative process.

Take “Dazed and Confused,” one of Zeppelin's early classics, which for years was considered an original until folk singer Jake Holmes revealed that it was nearly identical to his 1967 song. Then there’s “Whole Lotta Love,” with its iconic intro and trippy breakdown, which lifted heavily from Willie Dixon’s “You Need Love.” Dixon eventually got credit — but only after suing the band.

The question is not whether Zeppelin borrowed. They did. The real question is whether that borrowing diminishes their genius.

Zeppelin had an extraordinary gift for taking raw material and turning it into something monumental. The band didn’t just cover songs; they transformed them. The band — anchored by the holy (or unholy) trinity of Page, Plant, and Bonham — channeled an energy that felt almost otherworldly. But, I ask, does that kind of transformation make the appropriation any less problematic?

When the Levee Breaks ... who gets the credit?

Zeppelin’s defenders often point to the folk and blues traditions the band drew from, where borrowing was not only common but celebrated.

The blues, in particular, is a genre built on shared motifs and communal storytelling. But there's a point at which paying homage becomes exploitation. Zeppelin, with their stadium tours and gold records, profited handsomely from work that less commercially successful artists had labored over, often without giving credit until lawsuits forced their hand.

Of course, the problem of appropriation isn’t unique to Zeppelin. The music industry is littered with examples of artists walking a fine line between inspiration and outright theft, often stepping well over it.

Take the Beach Boys’ “Surfin’ U.S.A.,” a cheerful anthem that’s almost a carbon copy of Chuck Berry’s “Sweet Little Sixteen.” Berry’s lawyers didn’t waste any time, making sure he got the credit — and the cash — he deserved.

Elvis Presley, the so-called "King of Rock and Roll," was perhaps the most blatant example of appropriation in his era. His charisma and voice were undeniable, but many of his biggest hits leaned heavily on the work of black artists whose contributions to rock and blues had been overlooked or outright dismissed by mainstream audiences.

“Hound Dog,” for instance, was a smash hit for Elvis but had already been made famous by blues singer Big Mama Thornton. Like so many of her peers, Thornton received neither the recognition nor the financial rewards that Elvis enjoyed.

One needn’t be a DEI-endorsing, reparations-demanding white-privilege protester to see the problem here. Elvis may have had the swagger and the gyrating hips, but much of his success was built on a foundation laid by others.

Fast-forward to the 1990s, and you find Vanilla Ice unapologetically lifting the bass line from Queen and David Bowie’s “Under Pressure” for “Ice Ice Baby,” a move so shameless that it’s become a textbook case of musical theft. More recently, Pharrell Williams and Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines” made headlines after the duo crossed a line of their own. A court ruled that the track was too similar to Marvin Gaye’s “Got to Give It Up,” hitting the artists with millions in damages. It was the correct decision.

Today, of course, we live in an era of sampling, remixing, and infinite digital archives. Kanye West, a self-proclaimed genius, has built entire albums on samples from soul, gospel, and electronic music. Set aside his very public meltdowns, and his work has often demonstrated a profound talent for reshaping snippets of the old into something entirely new. Is that really so different from what Plant and his pals were doing decades earlier?

The philosophical conundrum

This raises a bigger, more philosophical question: If the final product is extraordinary, does it really matter where it came from? Does the brilliance of “Stairway to Heaven” lose its magic because its opening riff traces back to Spirit? Can the raw power of “Whole Lotta Love” be dulled by its roots in a Willie Dixon song?

At what point does the craft rise above the criticism? If the output surpasses the original, if it elevates the material to something greater, then maybe the borrowing is justified.

Then again, maybe not.

Perhaps the answer lies in how we define genius. Is it purely the ability to conjure something from nothing, or is it the capacity to take fragments of the past and reshape them into something immortal? Zeppelin’s genius was not in their originality but in their alchemy — the way they fused blues, folk, and rock into a sound that defined a generation.

For millions of people, including some who might be reading this, Zeppelin's songs are more than just pieces of music. They’re sacred anthems, timeless masterpieces. Ultimately, their power isn’t in where they came from but in how they make you feel, how they transport you, how they tap into something deep, even primal. And maybe that’s what truly defines great art: its ability to endure, to move, to inspire, and, in the case of Zeppelin, to spark endless controversy.

South Korea's January 6: Is the deep state to blame?



As I write this, South Korea stands on the precipice of its most significant political crisis in decades.

The Constitutional Court has launched impeachment proceedings against President Yoon Suk Yeol, who stands accused of declaring martial law to block the reversal of his suspension of civilian rule.

'Right-leaning people have told me that they find Yoon's personality unresponsive and distant. Leftists dislike him as a matter of course.'

Now barricaded in his residence under heavy security, Yoon refuses to appear in court or cooperate with investigations into charges of insurrection. His defiance has thrown South Korea’s democracy into uncharted territory, plunging the nation into a perilous political storm.

Yet while this crisis is uniquely Korean in its immediate context, the deeper story carries clear traces of American influence. The origins of South Korea’s “deep state” — a covert network of military, intelligence, and corporate power — can be traced back to U.S. involvement during the Cold War. The turmoil unfolding today is, in many ways, a direct consequence of those historical interventions.

Cold War seeds

Following World War II, the United States carved the Korean Peninsula in half, creating an artificial divide between North and South. In its quest to establish a bulwark against communism, the U.S. installed Syngman Rhee, a staunch anti-communist, as South Korea’s president. To solidify control, Washington integrated former Japanese collaborators into the nation’s security apparatus, building an authoritarian system designed to suppress dissent and maintain order.

The Korean War entrenched these dynamics further. The conflict, framed as a battle between democracy and communism, became a proxy war, with America deeply embedded in South Korea’s military and intelligence systems. By the war’s end, in 1953, South Korea was firmly bound to a militarized political order aligned with U.S. strategic priorities.

Figures like Park Chung-hee, who seized power in 1961, emerged as key architects of this hierarchical system, one deeply intertwined with U.S. Cold War strategy in Asia. At the request of the United States, Park committed approximately 320,000 South Korean troops to fight alongside U.S. forces in the Vietnam War — a contribution second only to that of the United States itself.

Officially, this massive deployment was framed as a way to strengthen ties with Washington, combat the spread of communism in East Asia, and elevate South Korea’s standing on the global stage. However, this partnership also solidified U.S. influence over South Korea’s military and political apparatus, embedding a framework of control that combined economic ambition with authoritarian suppression of dissent.

Park’s rule, praised by the U.S. for driving rapid industrial growth, simultaneously relied on the heavy hand of state security forces to silence opposition — entrenching a system that still casts a shadow over South Korea today.

Parallels with the American deep state

The parallels between South Korea’s deep state and its American counterpart are impossible to ignore. In the United States, unelected entities like the CIA and NSA operate with near-absolute freedom, running covert operations and mass surveillance programs that skirt democratic accountability.

Meanwhile, corporate giants like Google, Amazon, and BlackRock have cemented their place within this system, ensuring their interests often outweigh those of the public. The result is a seamless merger of private and governmental power, where transparency and accountability are nonexistent.

In South Korea, this pattern repeats itself through the chaebols — massive conglomerates like Samsung and Hyundai — that dominate the country’s economy and exert a disproportionate influence on policy. These family-run corporations have long been entwined with the government, creating a system where power remains concentrated and largely unchecked. President Yoon’s martial law declaration is a timely reminder of how deeply these forces are entrenched.

A fascinating figure in a fractured system

To understand Yoon’s fall from grace, one must examine his rather unique rise to power. As Peter Paik, an award-winning poet and professor at Yonsei University in Seoul, explains to Align, Yoon’s career has been a study in contradictions.

“President Yoon Suk Yeol was a prosecutor who made his name investigating prominent political figures," says Paik. "He was originally seen as a bulldog of the liberal side, having carried out the investigation of the National Intelligence Service for interfering in the presidential election of 2012 on behalf of the conservative candidate and eventual winner, Park Geun-hye. He paid a price for this investigation, as he was banished from Seoul to a provincial city, Daegu, after carrying it out.”

Yoon’s tenure as prosecutor-general was marked by high-profile investigations into corruption at the highest levels. Paik continues:

Appointed by liberal President Moon Jae-in to investigate corruption at the highest levels of government, Yoon succeeded in convicting conservative former Presidents Lee Myung-bak and Park Geun-hye, and both ended up serving time in prison. Yoon had been appointed the prosecutor-general by liberal President Moon Jae-in, but the two came into conflict. Yoon investigated President Moon's choice for justice minister, Cho Kuk, who was eventually convicted of forging documents to enable his children to gain admission into prestigious universities.

Yoon’s decision to align with the conservative People Power Party and run for president alienated him from former allies. He promised transparent leadership but quickly disappointed the public, as Paik notes.

Yoon promised to provide open and transparent leadership but soon disappointed people who found him aloof, remote, and inflexible. Even conservatives found it difficult to warm to him. Right-leaning people have told me that they find Yoon's personality unresponsive and distant. Leftists dislike him as a matter of course.

The shadow of shamanism

Yoon’s presidency has been plagued by scandals, including allegations of shamanistic influence and controversies surrounding his wife, Kim Keon-hee. Paik remarks on these peculiarities.

There was a stir when Yoon was photographed with the Chinese character for "king" painted on his palm, which people speculate came from a shamanic ritual aimed at helping him to win the presidency. There are rumors that Yoon's decision to declare martial law arose from advice given to his adviser by a shaman — apparently the date on which he did so was considered to be an auspicious one.

Kim Keon-hee has also drawn criticism for alleged corruption and her controversial past.

“Kim Keon-hee, his wife, is accused of having plagiarized her Ph.D. thesis in English literature. She is also rumored to have worked as an upscale bar hostess, which is essentially the same thing as a courtesan. She has had extensive plastic surgery since she was a teenager. The presidential couple have no children but own several dogs" — a seemingly trivial detail, until you ask yourself: How many presidential couples in history have had no children?

The road ahead

South Korea’s political polarization mirrors the deep fractures within its governance. Paik paints a grim picture of the nation’s future.

“Politics are extremely polarized in South Korea — the rival parties show almost no willingness to cooperate with each other. Once the liberals gained a majority, they sought to impeach Yoon. The country is likely to experience more political convulsions ahead.”

Yoon’s impeachment trial is not just a referendum on his presidency but a test of South Korea’s democratic resilience. The deep state, born of Cold War exigencies and American intervention, remains a potent force shaping the nation’s trajectory. Whether South Korea can emerge from this crisis stronger or will fall deeper into political turmoil remains to be seen. One thing is certain, however: The roots of this crisis stretch far beyond its borders, into the corridors of power in Washington.

Bill Maher's smug stand-up stinks



Want to hear something funny?

Bill Maher recently sat down with Bryan Johnson, the self-proclaimed king of three-hour erections, and confessed to being a perfectionist.

It’s as if he’s recycling the same jokes he’s been telling since the Clinton administration, only now with the self-righteousness dialed up to 11.

The L.A.-loving comic insisted he never, ever stops striving for excellence. Except, apparently, in his stand-up comedy.

Maher’s latest special, “Is Anyone Else Seeing This?” — ironically advertised an HBO "original" — is a tired rehash of overdone clichés: Kids are awful, Trump is worse, and Republican candidates are married to their guns.

Hardly groundbreaking. In truth, these "jokes" wouldn’t even land at a late-night dive bar open mic.

Maher has spent years coasting on the fumes of relevance, serving up material that’s more dull than daring. Every tired take reeks of self-satisfaction, as if a smug smirk is enough to keep critics at bay.

Well, it’s not.

Comedy thrives on risk and originality, but Maher’s specials have become a slow drip of the same reheated takes. His fans, many of whom have stood by him for decades, deserve better than this tedious slog.

Maher loves to talk about holding people accountable. Perhaps it’s time he took his own advice.

Comedy or karaoke?

Billed as "comedy," “Is Anyone Else Seeing This?” is less a performance and more a monologue from the guy at the end of the bar who doesn’t realize everyone’s stopped listening. It’s lazy, uninspired, and rather revealing.

Maher himself admits he doesn’t perform in comedy clubs — a confession as absurd as a chef proudly declaring he's never set foot in a kitchen.

Unsurprisingly, the lack of practice is painfully obvious. I say this as someone who endured the misfortune of watching the special. I also say this as a regular viewer of "Real Time," someone who wants to enjoy Maher’s stand-up. But the sheer laziness on display shouldn’t be tolerated, let alone rewarded.

For someone who brags about being a crusader against echo chambers, Maher seems oddly blind to his own hypocrisy.

Which brings me back to his avoidance of comedy clubs, the place where comedians earn their stripes. In the clubs, the audience owes you nothing. If you’re not funny, you’ll know it right away. But Maher has avoided that challenge, sticking to the safety of his home crowd. They don’t laugh because he’s funny; they clap because they already agree with him.

It’s comedy on autopilot — the stand-up equivalent of singing karaoke at your own birthday party.

A legacy in decline

The gap between Maher and the broader comedy world was exposed when Roseanne Barr appeared on his podcast, "Club Random," last year and mentioned roastmaster par excellence Tony Hinchcliffe.

Maher, either in a bizarre display of ignorance or outright deceit, claimed he didn’t know who Hinchcliffe was.

That’s not just a blind spot; it’s a black hole. Imagine Brad Pitt squinting at you and asking, “Who’s this Matt Damon fella?” or Mick Jagger struggling to place Robert Plant. Hinchcliffe is one of the biggest names in comedy, a figure you don’t have to like to recognize.

While some readers might not know him (he’s the guy who made the Puerto Rico joke at a Trump rally last year), Maher operates in the exact same world. What’s more, Hinchcliffe hosts "Kill Tony," the most popular live comedy podcast in the world — a show where our own Dave Landau absolutely crushed it just a few weeks ago.

This detachment might explain why Maher’s comedy feels less like stand-up and more like a patronizing PowerPoint presentation. Without the grind of the clubs, without the bruises earned from bombing on stage, Maher’s material has expired. It’s a sad decline for someone who, once upon a time in a very different America, could actually land a joke.

Not all bad

Now, to be clear, Maher excels in other areas. The aforementioned "Real Time" continues to showcase his knack for interviews and his ability to provoke without completely alienating.

Maher’s monologues often land with sharp wit and insight, but that’s likely a testament to his team of writers. The moments of brilliance on his show highlight an obvious truth: Maher is at his best when he’s collaborating, when there’s a structure to temper his self-indulgence.

In stand-up, however, there’s no safety net. Without that collaborative edge, Maher’s comedy devolves into predictable punch lines. It’s as if he’s recycling the same jokes he’s been telling since the Clinton administration, only now with the self-righteousness dialed up to 11.

Watching his specials feels less like comedy and more like being lectured by someone who’s convinced he's the smartest person in the room.

And that’s not funny.

Preaching to the choir

Stand-up comedy demands vulnerability. The best comedians today — Ricky Gervais and Dave Chappelle among them — lay themselves bare, turning their flaws and fears into material that resonates on a deeply human level. More importantly, they’re cerebral without letting their intellect overshadow the one thing that matters most — you know, making people laugh.

George Carlin, one of Maher’s obvious influences, was a master of intellectual comedy. But where Carlin’s wit was razor-sharp, Maher’s often feels blunted by his own self-regard. His comedy doesn’t challenge or surprise; it preaches. And while preaching has its place, it’s not what people come to a comedy special for.

Maher loves to position himself as a contrarian, a truth-teller who doesn’t pander to the crowd. But in his stand-up, he’s doing exactly that. He’s pandering to his base, offering them the comfort of familiarity rather than the challenge of originality. It’s a disservice to his fans and, frankly, to himself.

It’s high time the host of "Real Time" called it quits on his stand-up career.

Woke theological rot is coming for Catholics, too



Anyone shocked by Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde's shrill, partisan lecture on Tuesday hasn't been paying attention. Christianity has been in a sad state for years.

Ostensibly, the "interfaith service" was meant to ask God to guide the new administration. For her part, Budde dwelled on the here and now, chastising President Trump for not sharing her traditional liberal faith in open borders and "trans children."

The Church I knew, for all its flaws, had real values. Today, it reeks of compromise and moral decay.

Take the Catholic Church, in which I was raised.

Like a true Irishman, I served my time as an altar boy, sweating in cassocks during weddings, whispering amens at funerals, and nervously stumbling through the odd reading at Mass.

I served during Ireland’s transition from the Irish pound to the Euro, which meant that, on top of my altar boy duties, I had to grapple with exchange rates and figure out if I was being fairly compensated. This was a daunting task for a young boy who disliked math.

The rituals were ingrained in me, as much a part of life as Sunday roast or schoolyard scuffles. Years later, I look at the Church — broken, bereft of meaning, barely recognizable. Once proud of its rich history and claim to divine truth, the Catholic Church seems to have sold its soul for scraps.

Or maybe even to Satan himself.

Devil's in the details

The heart of this betrayal lies in the seismic shifts unleashed during the early to mid-'60s by the Second Vatican Council. Convened by Pope John XXIII and concluded by Pope Paul VI, Vatican II set out to “open the windows” of the Church to the modern world. What followed was the end of the Latin Mass, with centuries of solemn, unified worship being tossed aside for vernacular language.

The council embraced aggiornamento, or “updating,” a move that rattled the Church’s traditionalists, none more so than Archbishop Carlo Maria Viganò.

For him, this wasn’t renewal; this was outright surrender. He and like-minded believers considered this the start of a human-centered agenda, shifting the Church’s focus from heaven to earth and reducing its mission to a shallow type of activism.

A former Vatican insider turned fierce critic, Viganò has accused the Church of becoming a pawn of globalist forces, abandoning divine doctrine in favor of political expediency. He sees the Church as having been infiltrated by what he calls a "deep state" of ideologues bent on subverting its sacred foundations.

His critiques are blistering, targeting not just Vatican II but the current pontificate of Pope Francis, whom he describes as the embodiment of this counterfeit church. For Viganò, the Church has turned its focus away from God, redirecting its devotion to modernism, relativism, and a misguided pursuit of secular approval.

Central to Viganò's argument is the belief that Vatican II’s reforms were the gateway for moral and theological decay. By abandoning the Latin Mass, the Church, in his view, severed a vital connection to its past.

The universal language of worship, transcending culture and time, was replaced by a fragmented and often turgid liturgy. What was once a mystical encounter with the creator has been reduced to a pedestrian exercise in community gathering.

Sure, community gatherings have their place — but that’s what community centers are for. A church is meant to be something far greater: a sacred space where the mystical touches the mortal, where the eternal meets the temporal. Strip that away, and all you’re left with is a meeting hall with fancy windows and some man in a dress.

Woke Francis

Under Pope Francis, Viganò's critique has sharpened. He accuses the Argentine of not just following an unholy agenda but actively promoting it.

Whether it’s the vague statements on morality, the relentless push for environmental and social justice causes, or the softening stance on traditional teachings, Viganò sees a Church that has essentially undergone a cultural identity swap.

Speaking of which, the now infamous “Who am I to judge?” comment on LGBTQ issues epitomizes the Church’s rejection of divine law. Viganò views the discussions about blessing same-sex unions, expanding women’s roles, and other progressive measures not as signs of compassion or inclusion but as evidence of a Church betraying its original mandate.

Viganò’s criticisms extend beyond liturgy and doctrine to the Church's internal decay. He has been one of the most outspoken voices exposing financial corruption within the Vatican and the complicity of Church leaders in the sexual abuse crisis.

To him (and anyone with a functioning brain), these scandals aren’t isolated incidents. Rather, they’re glaring symptoms of a deeper sickness. Essentially, we have a Church that moralizes to the masses while acting in ways that utterly betray fundamental Catholic principles.

The Hunger Games, Catholic edition

This schism has turned the Church into a battleground, with each side accusing the other of betrayal.

Traditionalists demand a return to the old ways — the Latin Mass, authentic doctrines, and sacred liturgy that lift believers toward the transcendent.

Progressives, on the other hand, clamor for reform, insisting the Church must evolve or die. They dress their agenda in the language of compassion and progress. However, it’s nothing more than a blatant attempt to remake the Church in their own image — secular, self-serving, and, at times, outright perverse.

Both sides claim to defend the true essence of Catholicism, but their visions are so irreconcilable that the Church now represents a house divided.

As someone who grew up immersed in Catholic rituals, I can’t help but feel a mix of anger and deep sorrow. The Church I knew, for all its flaws, had real values. Today, it reeks of compromise and moral decay.

Its desperate push to modernize leaves it indistinguishable from any other pandering secular institution. In its chase for cultural approval, the Church has abandoned the very thing that made it powerful: its otherworldliness.

A Church that desperately attempts to please the world becomes irrelevant to it. A house divided always falls. By renouncing heaven, the Church has found hell.

Trump must clean house at DEI-crazy CIA



The FBI recently confirmed it shuttered its Office of Diversity and Inclusion. The timing has raised eyebrows — especially the pair belonging to America's newly returned commander in chief.

On January 17, Donald Trump took to Truth Social to level sharp accusations. “We demand that the FBI preserve and retain all records, documents, and information on the now-closing DEI office — never should have been opened, and, if it was, should’ve closed long ago,” he wrote.

Our adversaries aren’t pausing to admire America’s commitment to diversity; they’re exploiting our vulnerabilities while we’re too busy navel-gazing to notice.

The timing, Trump suggested, was no coincidence. Why, he asked, is the office being shut down just before a new administration takes over? The reason, Trump suggested, is obvious: “corruption!”

The FBI may be bad, but at least it appears — and I stress, appears — to be severing ties with DEI. Meanwhile, its ideological soulmate, the CIA, isn’t just clinging to DEI.

It’s doubling down.

Equity at all costs — even national security

The agency’s new Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Accessibility Strategy reads less like a professional roadmap and more like a suicide note — a grim parody where safeguarding national security is subordinated to ideological virtue signaling. DEI, now upgraded with an “A” for Accessibility, mimics the inflationary trajectory of LGBTQ’s “+,” transforming inclusivity into an ever-expanding project.

There’s the promise to “acknowledge intersectional cultural identities officers occupy in advertisements.” You have to wonder if anyone drafting this nonsense has ever met a spy — or even seen a James Bond film. It’s not difficult to imagine CIA recruitment posters prioritizing identity validation over operational readiness, effectively rewriting JFK’s immortal challenge: “Ask not what you can do for your country; ask what your country can do to celebrate your identity.”

The 2025 campaign could see operatives in full tactical gear, striking dramatic poses, with captions like, “Pronouns: They/Them. Specialty: Counterintelligence.” Or perhaps a tagline like, “Your country needs you ... and your lived experience!” The idea that national security hinges on how well the CIA can validate identities and sexual proclivities would be laughable — if it weren’t so tragic.

Then, there’s the Accountability Objective, a monument to misdirected priorities. “Key Performance Indicator Dashboards” and “bottom-up feedback” are the hallmarks of a bureaucracy obsessed with internal metrics rather than external threats.

The pièce de résistance, however, is the commitment to biannual DEIA field conferences and collaborations with “big six” organizations — whatever those are. Perhaps these conferences include workshops on inclusive espionage or breakout sessions on equitable data collection. It’s hard to see how any of this strengthens national security, but it certainly reinforces the agency’s knack for self-sabotage.

From fighting enemies to fighting microaggressions

Of course, the CIA was far from perfect before DEI came along. John Diamond’s "The CIA and the Culture of Failure" exposes years of dysfunction — groupthink, bloated bureaucracy, and a knack for missing the obvious.

This is the agency that failed to predict the Soviet Union’s collapse, botched intelligence on Iraq, and shrugged off warnings about 9/11. Diamond paints a picture of an agency so obsessed with secrecy and self-preservation that it repeatedly ignored its own failures.

Fast-forward to today, and things are considerably worse. The CIA is more focused on praising itself for “equitable hiring practices” than doing its job. Accountability has been tossed aside for making sure everyone inside the agency feels “seen and heard.” Meanwhile, average Americans feel invisible and ignored, left to wonder if their safety even matters.

Spies blind to global threats

This is where the sheer absurdity of DEI in intelligence agencies comes into sharp focus. Mossad isn’t agonizing over gender quotas. Iran’s Ministry of Intelligence isn’t issuing press releases to celebrate its "diverse and inclusive workforce." These agencies are too busy doing their jobs — spying, sabotaging, and outmaneuvering their enemies.

The CIA, on the other hand, clings to the delusion that “cultural awareness” and “sensitivity training” are somehow weapons in the fight against cyberattacks and terrorist plots.

Our adversaries aren’t pausing to admire America’s commitment to diversity; they’re exploiting our vulnerabilities while we’re too busy navel-gazing to notice.

The fixation on DEI at all costs has turned the U.S. into a laughingstock, a once-dominant superpower distracted by its own ideological vanity. And when this sordid spectacle inevitably backfires, the consequences will be catastrophic.

It’s only a matter of time before hackers take down the electric grid — plunging cities into darkness, crippling hospitals, collapsing water systems, and bringing transportation to a screeching halt. Food and medicine would spoil, leaving millions desperate. Panic would spark mass looting and violence — think the recent chaos in Los Angeles but scaled to the entire nation. Society would disintegrate within days.

A message to President Trump

The DEI cult doesn’t just weaken our defenses — it obliterates what little trust remains in institutions that have failed Americans over and over. The CIA’s DEIA strategy isn’t just tone-deaf; it’s a glaring indictment of an agency completely detached from reality.

By chasing ridiculous fads instead of sharpening its focus on real threats, the CIA betrays its core purpose. America doesn’t need an agency obsessed with gender issues and morally dubious metrics; it needs one laser-focused on safeguarding its people.

President Trump has the opportunity — and the responsibility — to correct this course. It's impossible to MAGA if arguably the nation's most important agency is attempting to do the very opposite.

Psychology Today's unscientific mission to rebrand sickness as 'superpower'



Scientific American has long traded its credibility for ideology, declaring that biological differences between men and women are imaginary and insisting that sex is merely a social "construct." But if you thought the heights of pseudoscience peaked there, you’re wrong.

Psychology Today seems determined to one-up this lunacy.

One can only wonder what’s next in this circus of rebranding disorder as divine transformation. Perhaps colon cancer will be spun as the ultimate 'spiritual cleanse.'

Neurodiversity: The new snake oil

Consider the outlet's shameless peddling of “neurodiversity” — an ill-defined sound bite used to dismiss decades of research in favor of “affirmations” that feel good but hold no empirical weight.

At its core, neurodiversity refers to the idea that neurological differences, such as autism, ADHD, and dyslexia, are natural variations in the human genome rather than disorders to be addressed. While this perspective may comfort some, it dangerously romanticizes genuine struggles, brushing aside the critical role of evidence-based interventions.

Rather than promoting treatments that could genuinely enhance lives (and no, I don’t mean pharmaceuticals), the neurodiversity movement often prioritizes celebrating “individuality” at the expense of confronting real, debilitating challenges.

The idea is seductive. But it’s also insidious.

Reject rigorous studies, dismiss proven treatments, and replace them with syrupy platitudes. This isn’t harmless; it creates a culture where legitimate suffering is trivialized and essential interventions are framed as oppressive.

By dressing up illness in the language of empowerment, the movement dissuades individuals from seeking help, subtly convincing them that their struggles aren’t struggles at all. They are, in fact, superpowers. And these superpowers should be celebrated.

Worse still, it labels anyone who dares question this perverse narrative as a bigot — a backward fool unworthy of serious consideration.

Fairy tales for adults

But the absurdity doesn’t end there. Enter “lavender marriages,” where supposedly gay and straight partners coexist in blissful union, a fairy tale entirely unsupported by data.

Yet Psychology Today promotes this idea with a straight face, offering it as a plausible framework for relationships. It’s as though fairy tales have not only migrated from children’s books to self-help shelves but have now infiltrated peer-reviewed journals.

And then there’s the magazine's unrelenting advocacy for "trans-identified" men competing in women’s sports.

Here, Psychology Today confidently bulldozes through irrefutable biological realities in favor of ideological zealotry. The overwhelming physical advantages of male puberty — greater muscle mass, bone density, and cardiovascular capacity — are glaringly obvious to anyone willing to look. Yet these differences are blithely dismissed, replaced by a crusade against common sense that prioritizes feelings over fairness.

This is more than bad science; it’s a blatant disregard for women’s safety, equity, and hard-won opportunities in sports.

The pièce de résistance is a recent feature glorifying menopause as a “catalyst for psychospiritual development.” Forget the very real and well-documented symptoms — hot flashes, insomnia, bone loss, and debilitating mood swings. None of that matters when you can reframe this biological bombshell as some mystical gateway to enlightenment.

In this magical world, suffering isn’t something to be mitigated; it’s a spiritual calling, a chance to “evolve” as you lie awake at 3 a.m., drenched in sweat, wondering why life feels like a cruel joke.

One can only wonder what’s next in this circus of rebranding disorder as divine transformation. Perhaps kidney stones will become the “sacred pain” of self-discovery. Will migraines be hailed as “intense meditative opportunities”? Perhaps colon cancer will be spun as the ultimate “spiritual cleanse.” The sheer audacity of pretending that every form of human suffering is some sort of cosmic blessing is beyond absurd — it’s insulting.

Who cares?

Now, you might ask, “Who cares what a ridiculous magazine says?” But Psychology Today isn’t just any magazine. It’s the world’s most widely read psychology publication, shaping the views of psychologists who, in turn, influence legislative policies, educational curricula, and even court decisions. This isn’t just harmless, woke drivel; it’s a dangerous dereliction of intellectual responsibility.

Sadly, none of this should surprise us. Politics, as the saying goes, is downstream from culture, and our culture today is, quite frankly, unhinged. Moreover, science has been hijacked by political motives. The COVID-19 pandemic exposed this rot for all to see, with “experts” bending data to suit agendas and dissenters labeled heretics. The same unscientific philosophies underpin the trans movement, where ideology routinely trumps biological reality.

Psychology, once the pursuit of understanding human behavior through rigorous study, has become a parody of itself.What once aimed to help individuals navigate the complexities of life now offers little more than a curated buffet of half-baked theories dressed up as legitimate truth.

The field’s potential for redemption grows dimmer with each new foray into pseudoscience. Psychology Today’s reputation as an unimpeachable source of accessible and credible psychological insight now circles the drain, taking with it any hope for meaningful reform.

The magazine’s descent into irrelevance reflects a deeper crisis in modern science — one in which ideological conformity has replaced intellectual rigor. What remains is a hollow shell, propped up by institutions that prioritize virtue-signaling over genuine understanding. The damage now permeates our schools, our laws, and our collective psyche, leaving millions adrift in a sea of destructive lies.

Who really runs the world? Meet the puppet masters behind the puppet masters



Bilderberg recently announced plans to be more open and friendly to the press — but what about Le Cercle?

If Bilderberg is the shadowy conference everyone whispers about, Le Cercle is the one that doesn’t even make it into the conversation. For many readers, this may be the first time you’ve encountered the name.

To the elites steering Le Cercle, South Africa’s value as a geopolitical foothold outweighed the regime’s moral failings.

Founded in 1952, this corrupt cabal operates with a level of secrecy that makes the Bilderberg Group seem almost transparent by comparison. Smaller, spookier, and infinitely more secretive, Le Cercle has built its reputation as the dark corner of global power.

The hidden hand of global politics

An exclusive transatlantic network, conceived and cultivated by conservative European leaders, Le Cercle has operated quietly for well over 70 years.

Founded during the height of the Cold War, Le Cercle was established to unite Western elites and synchronize political and intelligence strategies across borders. Its creation was driven by the era’s pervasive fear of communist expansion and a determination to secure Western economic and military dominance.

Key figures such as Franz Josef Strauss, a vocal anti-communist from West Germany, and Antoine Pinay, a conservative former French prime minister, believed traditional diplomacy was inadequate to meet the threat. They saw covert coordination and strategic manipulation as essential tools in preserving Western hegemony.

In other words, to fight fire, they needed to start fires. To defeat the arsonists, they had to become pyromaniacs.

Over time, this network evolved into a powerful forum for shaping policy. Its members include influential politicians, diplomats, and intelligence operatives. Known for its strong connections to Western intelligence, including the CIA, Le Cercle’s biannual meetings operate under strict confidentiality.

These gatherings have drawn senior U.K. officials, including business secretaries and justice ministers, some of whom received financial support to attend. The group’s deliberately opaque funding only deepens the mystery, raising serious questions about who’s really pulling the strings — and why. But you don’t need a seat at the table to figure out the group's motives are far from pure.

Supporting apartheid

One of the most troubling allegations against Le Cercle is its reported support for apartheid-era South Africa, a regime notorious for its brutal system of racial segregation.

This backing likely wasn’t rooted in racist ideology but in Cold War strategy. For Western powers, South Africa was a crucial ally in the fight against communism in Africa, and its apartheid policies were conveniently overlooked in favor of maintaining strategic dominance.

To the elites steering Le Cercle, South Africa’s value as a geopolitical foothold outweighed the regime’s moral failings. Apartheid wasn’t just a system of segregation — it was a machine of dehumanization. Black South Africans were stripped of their citizenship, forced into squalid homelands, and subjected to relentless state violence. Families were torn apart, dissent crushed, and entire generations were denied basic human dignity.

For Le Cercle to have propped up such a regime speaks volumes about the dark compromises made in the name of power.

Shaping the Cold War world

The group’s legacy is tightly bound to Cold War geopolitics, often serving as an extension of U.S. strategic interests. Its actions embodied the era’s prevailing belief that secrecy and subversion were necessary to maintain global dominance.

While NATO and the CIA handled operations more openly, Le Cercle remained behind the curtain, wielding tools like financial manipulation, disinformation, and clandestine military support. Leaked documents suggest it played a role in regime changes and election interference, not just in Western Europe but far beyond. Its shadowy operations were (and still are) aimed at destabilizing governments deemed too hostile to Western interests.

One of the most notable examples is its reported involvement in the downfall of Australia’s Gough Whitlam administration in 1975. Whitlam, a progressive reformer, had clashed with both the U.S. and U.K. over his push for greater national sovereignty, particularly in areas like foreign policy, intelligence, and economic independence. He had questioned the activities of the CIA and sought to close U.S. military bases on Australian soil, including the highly strategic Pine Gap facility.

Whitlam, a blend of Bernie Sanders’ progressive vision and Ron Paul’s anti-establishment defiance, quickly became a thorn in the side of Western powers. His refusal to toe the line and his open defiance of Cold War orthodoxy made him a threat — one that, in the eyes of his adversaries, needed to be removed. And removed he was. In 1975, his government was dismissed in an unprecedented move by the governor-general, an act widely believed to have been influenced by the CIA.

Latin Mass and Latin America

In the 1970s and 1980s, Le Cercle reportedly supported far-right regimes in Latin America, aligning itself with U.S. efforts to suppress leftist uprisings. It’s worth noting that the far right in Latin America during this period looked vastly different from the modern-day American far right; these regimes were defined by brutal military juntas, systemic torture, and widespread political assassinations — hardly something most people today would condone.

Le Cercle’s alleged role in Operation Condor — a covert campaign by South American dictatorships to eliminate political dissidents — stands out as particularly egregious. This brutal network of state terror, responsible for the abduction, torture, and murder of thousands, relied heavily on intelligence sharing and financial backing. Le Cercle’s suspected involvement in facilitating these operations highlights its readiness to act as a shadowy enabler of Cold War repression, even crossing ethical and legal lines to achieve its goals.

The group’s connections weren’t limited to Latin America. Le Cercle also maintained deep ties to the Vatican, a formidable player in Cold War geopolitics. The group exploited the Vatican’s global networks to push its anti-communist agenda, with some members linked to synarchist and ultraconservative factions within the Church. The group's efforts blended religion with realpolitik, dressing up blatant political manipulation as righteous moral crusades.

Were these people doing God’s work? Well, if God’s work involves propping up juntas, funding death squads, and fostering fear in the name of stability, then perhaps. I’ll let you decide if this particular circle can ever be squared.

Now is the time to reject climate change hysteria — and the feckless leaders who hide behind it



The embers have yet to cool in the eerie, blackened moonscape of what used to be Pacific Palisades. Thousands of residents face a difficult, uncertain rebuilding process. The loss of life, so far, has been mercifully small, but that is surely little consolation to those grieving.

Meanwhile, our self-styled expert class wants us once again to focus our attention on the real villain behind the disaster: climate change.

Medical programs present climate change as a health emergency, pulling valuable time and resources away from teaching critical subjects like anatomy, diagnostics, and patient care.

To take one example: According to University of Colorado fire scientist Jennifer Balch, “Fires have gotten faster. The big culprit we’re suspecting is a warming climate that’s making it easier to burn fuels when conditions are just right.”

It's undeniably true that the conditions — an unusually dry winter and extremely powerful Santa Ana winds -- were primed for a disaster of this magnitude. It's also undeniably true that when man battles nature, man often loses.

What is very much open to question is whether or not the Democrat-led state of California and city of Los Angeles were adequately prepared for the coming conflagration.

L.A. Mayor Karen Bass — who inexplicably chose to join a Biden delegation to Ghana despite clear warnings that a catastrophe was on the horizon — cut the Los Angeles Fire Department's budget by almost $17 million last year. Instead, taxpayer money was lavished on the usual failed projects to address the homeless problem.

Then there's been the state's years-long focus on vague, endlessly-expandable DEI issues at the expense of more practical concerns such as education, security, and the economy.

Kristin M. Crowley was appointed Los Angeles fire chief in 2022. To her credit, Crowley warned Bass last year that her drastic budget cuts had left the LAFD unprepared.

At the same time, Crowley was explicitly promoted as a DEI hire — "the first woman and LGBTQ fire chief!" — and was outspoken that her own priority was to increase "diversity" in the fire department.

Why were the hydrants empty? Why was there so much uncleared brush waiting to burst into flames? Why did the brave firefighters battling the blaze seem to lack essential logistical support, not to mention adequate reinforcements?

Raise these practical questions, and you'll get something like Governor Gavin Newsom's rambling, buck-passing response yesterday:

“I mean when you have a system — but it’s not dissimilar from what we’ve seen in other extraordinarily large-scale fires, whether it be pipe, electricity, or whether it just be the complete overwhelm of the system. I mean those hydrants are typical for two or three fires — maybe one fire and you have something of this scale, but again that’s gonna be determined by the local.”

Behind Newsom's smug dismissal of these concerns is the same cynical assumption: It's climate change, stupid.

A big problem requires big solutions: electric vehicle mandates, carbon credits, eating bugs not beef. These solutions all tend to impoverish regular people while lining the pockets of big shots like Newsom.

Much could be written about this, but here let's focus on the spiritual demoralization these cynical climate crazies inflict on Americans — especially those just coming of age.

A new type of anxiety

In 1981, Kim Wilde’s iconic hit “Kids in America” captured the thrill of being young, wild, and full of hope — a generation ready to conquer the world. Fast forward to today, and the picture couldn’t be more different. The grand dreams of yesterday have morphed into nightmares. The kids of America aren’t chasing aspirations; they’re sinking in a sea of climate doom, consumed by visions of a planet in freefall. What was once boundless optimism now bleeds into a suffocating existential dread, infecting every part of their lives.

Eco-anxiety is skyrocketing. Two-thirds of Americans aged 18 to 23 say they’re struggling with it. This isn’t just some trendy buzzword. Eco-anxiety is a serious issue, showing up as migraines, chronic insomnia, and, in extreme cases, even suicidal thoughts. The constant drumbeat of climate doom has left many young people feeling frozen by fear and overwhelmed by hopelessness. They’re stuck in a world where even the simplest choices, like grabbing a coffee or commuting to work, come with a side of guilt over their supposed hand in destroying the planet.

But — and I cannot stress this enough — the panic is completely overblown.

Reality check

Recent research by marine biologists from the U.K. and Spain dismantles the doomsday tone that dominates climate discussions. Their studies show that marine life releases sulfur gases that naturally cool the planet. This cooling effect, amplified by secondary compounds, is far greater than previously thought. These findings highlight the rather remarkable, self-regulating abilities of Earth’s ecosystems — a crucial detail completely ignored by the relentless “end-of-the-world” climate narrative.

At the same time, other recent studies reveal serious flaws in the climate models driving these apocalyptic warnings. Independent research from Canada and the U.S. shows that these models consistently overestimate atmospheric warming — and their accuracy has only worsened over time.

These revelations call for a serious rethink of the climate debate. But instead of acknowledging reality, institutions are doubling down on fearmongering, injecting climate change ideology into every facet of education—even in areas where it has no place. Medical schools have become the epicenter of the climate change crusade, with Columbia University hosting health boot camps to indoctrinate clinicians on the supposed perils of climate change. Instead of focusing on real medical education — critical for those entrusted with the health of millions — they're drowning future doctors in a swamp of jargon and ideological drivel.

These programs present climate change as a health emergency, pulling valuable time and resources away from teaching critical medical subjects like anatomy, diagnostics, and patient care. Right now, a coalition of medical students, residents, and faculty from the Global Consortium for Climate and Health Education, Brigham and Women’s Hospital, Massachusetts General Hospital, UCSF, and Emory University School of Medicine is working to inject climate change propaganda into medical curricula across the U.S.

This isn’t just misguided — it’s downright dangerous. Medical schools are already grappling with declining standards due to DEI initiatives that prioritize identity over merit. Adding climate activism to the mix only makes things worse. Future doctors should be mastering life-saving skills, not parroting environmental doomsday propaganda. Their mission is to save lives, not play planetary saviors.

High schools aren’t faring any better. MIT’s Climate Action Through Education initiative aims to smuggle climate change narratives into every subject from science to social studies. This obsessive focus on climate activism comes at a time when basic skills like reading, writing, and math are in free-fall.

The National Assessment of Educational Progress reveals that high school students’ scores in these fundamental subjects have plummeted to historic lows. Yet instead of tackling this crisis, schools are likely to pile on more ideological lessons, further diverting students from the critical thinking and foundational knowledge they urgently need.

Dire consequences

The consequences of this trend go far beyond individual classrooms. By replacing education with indoctrination, we’re raising a generation that’s woefully unprepared for reality. Forget cultivating curiosity and critical thinking; young people are being trained to see the world through a lens of fear and blame. This doesn’t prepare them to tackle future challenges — it burdens them with unnecessary anxiety and a distorted sense of their ability to drive meaningful change.

In the apocalyptic climate change narrative, free will is erased — nihilism, however, thrives.

The spread of climate change hysteria in educational institutions not only erodes academic integrity but also puts societal stability at risk. Medical professionals distracted by nonsensical noise may be less prepared to handle real medical crises. Misdiagnoses and substandard care will likely rise, further undermining public trust in health care. Faith in the system has already plummeted since COVID revealed just how politicized medicine has become. Adding climate change panic to the mix won’t rebuild that trust — it’ll obliterate it.

Likewise, high school students are being conditioned to echo emotional but empirically hollow rhetoric. The country needs more great thinkers, not more Greta Thunberg clones.

The madness needs to stop.

Unfit for duty: Chubster cops weigh down American policing



America’s police forces are in a dire state. Not just in terms of recruitment but in terms of quality.

The crisis transcends numbers; it strikes at the heart of the institution’s ability to keep Americans safe. Joe Rogan recently hosted John McPhee, the “Sheriff of Baghdad,” on his podcast.

One of my closest friends, a member of the NYPD, has shared with me the unbelievable nonsense that has unfolded in the post-George Floyd years — stories that reveal just how dire the situation has become.

The retired special ops soldier delivered a sobering indictment of U.S. law enforcement.

McPhee, who now focuses on training police and civilians, highlighted systemic failures, from fitness to training, that jeopardize both officers and the public. Although he was contacted for comment prior to the publication of this article, he did not respond.

That said, one doesn’t need to be a grizzled, gun-slinging guru to see the elephant in the room.

The thickening blue line

A staggering 40% of American police officers are obese. Not just overweight — obese. It’s a sobering reality for those entrusted with the duty to protect and serve. When officers cannot pursue a suspect, subdue an attacker, or endure the physical demands of their work, it fundamentally undermines the notion of public safety.

Obese police officers not only heighten the risk of injuries but also increase the likelihood of relying on excessive force. When stamina or strength is lacking, officers may feel compelled to resort to extreme measures, such as prematurely using deadly force.

An example is the case of Parker v. District of Columbia, as part of which an officer’s poor physical fitness directly led to a serious incident. Officer Hayes, unable to pursue a fleeing suspect effectively, resorted to using his firearm, causing severe injuries to the suspect. The court determined that the officer’s physical condition, exacerbated by insufficient fitness training, left him with no viable non-lethal options.

Contrary to the delusional beliefs of the fat positivity movement, there’s nothing “positive” about lugging around bucketloads of fat. Santa Claus aside, the idea of the jolly fat man is pure fiction. And Saint Nick is only cheerful because he punches in one day a year.

Obesity doesn’t just weigh down the body; it crushes the mind too. It’s a breeding ground for depression, anxiety, and chronic stress, all of which wreak havoc on judgment and decision-making. Studies reveal that obesity dulls executive function and fuels impulsivity, turning high-pressure moments into fertile ground for bad decisions.

Obese officers often report simmering anger and frustration, a cocktail mixed from their physical struggles and society’s not-so-subtle disdain.

No respect

Moreover, respect plays a crucial role in the profession of policing. Officers rely on public cooperation, trust, and authority to perform their duties effectively, whether it’s calming a tense situation, issuing commands, or establishing credibility in court. However, societal biases often complicate this dynamic, especially when it comes to physical appearance — and obesity is a significant factor.

Studies consistently show that obese individuals face widespread discrimination, both overt and subtle. They are often perceived as less competent, less disciplined, and even less authoritative. These perceptions stem from deeply ingrained stereotypes associating weight with laziness or a lack of self-control — traits that directly conflict with the image of a disciplined, reliable police officer.

Consciously or unconsciously, people think, "How can this officer protect me and my loved ones when they can’t even resist the magnetic pull of a McDonald’s drive-thru?"

While we can debate the fairness of such biases, they are deeply rooted in human psychology and social conditioning. In other words, they exist — and they’re not going anywhere anytime soon. An obese officer might struggle to convey that same sense of preparedness or capability in the eyes of the public, regardless of their actual skills or expertise.

Tough love

To be clear, this isn’t an attack on officers themselves. They perform an invaluable service, often risking their lives to maintain the delicate balance of order and security in our communities. Without their dedication, society would descend into chaos.

But in a profession where lives hang in the balance, anything less than the highest standard is a dangerous compromise. Officers, like everyone else, must take responsibility for their own physical fitness — a point so basic it shouldn’t even be controversial.

I sympathize with officers, who are often victims of systemic failures that leave them woefully unprepared for the intense demands of their roles. Law enforcement professionals operate under immense pressure, but the lack of meaningful support for their physical and mental health only deepens the challenges they face every day.

One of my closest friends, a member of the NYPD, has shared with me the unbelievable nonsense that has unfolded in the post-George Floyd years — stories that reveal just how dire the situation has become. Officers are drowning in pointless training sessions and mountains of paperwork, distractions that keep them from doing the job they were hired to do: protecting the people of America.

99 problems

The police force problem begins with woefully inadequate training systems. As McPhee observed, police academies often obsess over bureaucratic trivialities while neglecting essential real-world preparation.

Officers step into the field ill-equipped to handle life-or-death situations with the nuance and skill required. Training in critical areas such as de-escalation, hand-to-hand combat, and tactical decision-making is often minimal, leaving officers to navigate high-stakes encounters without the necessary tools.

Compounding the issue is the rigid structure of police departments. Unlike the military, which assigns roles based on individual strengths, law enforcement clings to a one-size-fits-all model. Officers with widely varying abilities are tasked with the same duties, whether patrolling neighborhoods or responding to active threats.

Why not assign the fitter, stronger, sharper officers to patrol the streets while those less mobile focus on desk work where they can still contribute effectively?

McPhee believes that, with proper training, the need for specialized SWAT teams could be eliminated entirely.

He told Rogan that, if trained correctly, every officer would possess the fitness, tactical precision, and decision-making skills typically reserved for elite units.

Today’s reliance on SWAT teams is a symptom of broader systemic failure. Regular officers are so poorly prepared that specialists are required for situations that should fall within the scope of standard policing. Proper training would empower officers to handle everything from high-stakes emergencies to routine calls with the same level of professionalism.

A need for change

Reform isn’t just possible; it’s already being implemented successfully in other countries. Finland and Norway set the gold standard with rigorous training programs that span years and emphasize legal knowledge, physical fitness, and de-escalation techniques. These nations produce officers who are not only better equipped but also earn greater trust from their communities. Even Australia has embraced reform, focusing on fitness, tactical readiness, and ongoing professional development.

Yes, some may argue, “America is not Australia, and it’s certainly not Finland.” True enough.

But like Australia and Finland, America’s police force is made up of humans — individuals entrusted with the critical duty of protecting and serving the public. The path to a better, faster, sharper, stronger police force isn’t rocket science. It’s about prioritizing smart training, embracing reform, and holding the system — not just the individuals within it — to a higher standard. Anything less is an abdication of responsibility to both the officers and the communities they serve.

It’s time to MAGA — "Make Authority Great Again."