Everything I believed in was wrong

And how I reclaimed my power

"The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable."
– James A. Garfield

There I was, standing in the middle of the culture wars, and I didn’t even sign up for it. It wasn’t like I woke up one day and thought, “Hey, I really want to be in the center of a battle where everyone’s shouting at each other about who’s morally superior.” No. It just kind of...happened.

It started with my friends and family—people I had known my whole life—who had suddenly all become front-line warriors, waving their social justice flags like they had just discovered the secret to saving the world. They were calling out every flaw, every microaggression, every issue, no matter how small, like their lives depended on it. It felt like everyone had been brainwashed by this new gospel of “wokeness” and the right way to be a good person had completely changed overnight. And then there was me, sitting there, trying to figure out how the hell I didn’t fit into this picture.

I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask for the debates to get so heated, for friendships to fray over disagreements that didn’t seem like a big deal to me. But there I was, saying the wrong thing, questioning the wrong idea, and suddenly—boom—I wasn’t just on the outskirts anymore. I had become the enemy. It was like I had invalidated them by simply existing as someone who wasn’t drinking the Kool-Aid. That’s what it felt like, being crucified by the people I loved for not following the narrative. For not automatically agreeing with everything they said.

And it wasn’t even a matter of being a bad person—it was more like I had become invisible to them. No one really cared what I thought anymore, because I wasn’t a part of the conversation. I wasn’t in the right circle of “enlightened” thinkers. I wasn’t their ally in the fight for their flavor of justice. I was a relic from some outdated era, an anomaly, a walking contradiction to everything they were now preaching.

The whole thing left me confused. How did I get here? I didn’t want to be a part of the noise, but now it felt like I was caught in it—drowning in the contradictions, wondering if I’d ever figure out what I truly believed. The pressure to fit in with the crowd was suffocating, but so was the fear of being swallowed by all the noise. Everyone else was so damn certain about their beliefs, their causes, their righteousness. They knew who the good guys were and who the bad guys were. But I didn’t have that certainty.

So I was left with this big, gnawing question: Should I just sit there, hoping the noise would quiet down and I could keep my head above water? Or should I dive in, figure out what I really believed, and risk getting torn apart for daring to think differently? Because, in the end, if I didn’t figure that out—if I let myself be swallowed by the noise—I’d lose myself entirely. And that wasn’t something I was willing to do.

So I started reading philosophy, hoping to make sense of everything, to understand why I felt so lost. That’s when I came across Epicurus. He was a slave, but he’d managed to change the course of history—not with his freedom, but with his mind. He shifted his focus from seeking comfort to pursuing truth, and in doing so, he unlocked a way of living that was meaningful, satisfying, and free.

It was like a lightbulb went off in my head. This guy, who had everything stacked against him—who was literally chained in servitude—had figured out that the secret to happiness wasn’t in avoiding pain or seeking pleasure. It was in understanding the truth of life, accepting it, and living in harmony with it. He didn’t chase after comforts or distractions; instead, he embraced simplicity and clarity. He sought to live in the moment, without being consumed by the constant need for validation or external approval.

That’s when it hit me. I had been doing the exact opposite. I had been chasing comfort. I had been trying to fit into this world where everyone else had their moral compass dialed in and I was just floating around, hoping to not upset anyone. But Epicurus? He didn’t care about what anyone else thought. He cared about finding inner peace, regardless of his circumstances.

And for the first time, I realized I needed to stop looking outside myself for answers. I needed to find truth within. That shift wasn’t easy. It meant letting go of my need to be liked, my need to be part of the group, my need to validate every belief that was being thrown at me. It meant being okay with discomfort, with uncertainty, with standing alone sometimes. But more than anything, it meant being brave enough to face the truth—whatever that truth was—and let it guide me.

I wasn’t going to find clarity in the noise of the culture wars. I wasn’t going to find peace in the echo chambers. The only way out was through—through truth, through understanding, through the willingness to look at the world as it was and not as I wished it to be. So, I took the leap. I started to change the way I thought, and slowly, I started to change the way I lived.

---

I found myself cast out into the wilderness, utterly bewildered at age 32 where I thought at this point in my life that I would be married with children. Instead, I was forced to completely start over with a fresh canvas like a newborn baby entering into a world I did not know, for everything before it had been destroyed.

So, I started to strip away the layers of rhetoric, to peel back the noise like an onion with too many layers. I detached from the emotional shock of it all—no more gasping at every bombshell headline or desperately shouting at my phone screen. Part of this was easy because I was so overwhelmed that I went into a state of autopilot. A pretty helpful survival tactic when the whole world seemed on fire. This made identifying biases, fallacies, misleading claims fairly easy to spot.

I started with the media. The so-called "legacy media" had once been the shining example of journalistic integrity, but somewhere along the line, it had become America’s HR department. You know, the ones who handle the messaging, ensure everyone’s “feelings” are tended to, and make sure the company’s image is polished and pristine—even when the truth doesn’t quite match the narrative. Just like HR’s role in protecting the company line, these media outlets became obsessed with clicks, subscriptions, and staying in the good graces of those who held the power. They didn’t necessarily care if the truth got in the way of a good story—they just wanted to keep the wheels of their corporate machine turning.

And boy, did they spin a story. Numbers were twisted and cherry-picked to create the narrative that police officers, especially white ones, were out to get black Americans. Meanwhile, the truth—like the fact that about 15 black citizens were killed by white police officers annually—was buried under layers of sensationalism. Statistically, more people get struck by lightning every year than die at the hands of police officers. But try telling that to the media. They were too busy with their clickbait headlines and manufactured outrage to care about facts. It was the same as HR selectively filtering out the inconvenient truths about a company’s work culture while sending out the polished, “everything is fine” messaging to the public. The numbers didn’t matter when the agenda was more important than reality.

That narrative of police being inherently racist and actively hunting down black Americans wasn’t just misleading—it was downright dangerous. It fueled a toxic climate of suspicion and hostility. Just like HR’s constant emphasis on keeping things "pleasant" while sweeping deeper issues under the rug, the media was more focused on protecting its image and fostering fear than dealing with the actual problems at hand. It created a world where people, especially those already vulnerable, began to view the police not as public servants, but as adversaries—like the company that only seems to exist to keep employees in line rather than actually helping them. The narrative wasn’t helping anyone—it was making things worse.

And what was HR’s solution? Just like the media, HR loves a good band-aid. Instead of addressing the root causes of the hostility and dysfunction, they slapped on some “diversity training” sessions, sent out a memo about “creating a safe space,” and hoped it would all blow over. But the underlying issues—the fear, the tension, the mistrust—remained, simmering beneath the surface, ready to explode. The media, like HR, had its priorities mixed up. It cared more about its image, more about keeping the train running, than about actually fostering real understanding and change.

And, much like HR, the media’s failure to challenge the status quo only made things worse, leaving us all to wonder: how much longer would we let them get away with it before we demanded something different—something real?

---

I dug deeper into the science, too—trying to understand the biology of what happened when George Floyd said, “I can’t breathe.” If you can talk, you’re still breathing, albeit with difficulty. Passing out might be possible, but death by suffocation is extremely unlikely unless other factors were at play. Yet, powerful voices—from the ACLU to Oprah, from Black Lives Matter to the Obamas—chose to amplify a very different story. The truth, once so trusted, had been sacrificed on the altar of a comforting narrative. It was terrifying to realize how much these once-reliable sources were willing to ignore inconvenient facts to maintain their narrative.

The conversations about police brutality were inconsistent and shifted depending on where it happened. When it occurred in democratic countries, the outrage was immediate. But when the same thing happened in communist regimes—crickets.

When Cuba erupted in protests for the first time in 50 years, the Democratic elite spun it to blame the U.S. embargo. But my Cuban friends, the ones actually on the ground, were quick to correct the narrative. They made it clear: this was about freedom from communism, not some foreign policy boogeyman. And when I checked the protest signs, it was crystal clear they were right. But then, just like with George Floyd, the legacy media doubled down, claiming it was about the embargo.

FOX News, which I always assumed was the fake news factory, actually ended up being one of the few outlets giving a voice to the Cuban protesters. It completely threw my understanding of things out the window. FOX? Credible? How could that be? My comfortable worldview had just crumbled, and I was left wondering who else was playing me all along.

Rejecting comfort for the sake of truth was an exhausting and disorienting journey. It meant letting go of all the comforting stories I wanted to believe, the easy explanations and reassuring narratives. Instead, I had to face an uncomfortable reality—one that didn’t always fit neatly into the black-and-white boxes I had built for myself. And as I realized just how corrupt and compromised so many people and institutions were, I felt like I had been betrayed, left to pick up the pieces of my shattered trust.

It was a painful but necessary reckoning, and it taught me that truth isn’t something that just washes over you like a soothing wave. It's more like a blinding light that leaves you squinting, disoriented, struggling to make sense of what’s really there. The media, the politicians, the intellectual elites—they weren’t just spreading misinformation. They were fabricating entire realities, feeding convenient narratives to millions of people. And when they failed, when they couldn’t keep up, FOX News was the only one left who dared to tell the truth, even when it didn’t fit their predetermined storylines.

---

So, there I was, diving into the untouchable, sacred clout of the Obamas—the royal couple of Chicago, my hometown. In their Hyde Park neighborhood, there’s a literal plaque outside a Dairy Queen, marking the spot of their first kiss. It’s as if the whole place had been baptized in their brand of charm. And heaven forbid you even think about criticizing them. One wrong word, and you’ve just keyed America’s car. The backlash is immediate, sharp, and unforgiving.

But hey, truth over comfort, right?

Barack Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize just 12 days into office. I remember thinking, wait—did he win that for being black and comforting everyone with his speech and that million-dollar smile? Because, let’s be honest, during his presidency, we were stuck in endless wars, and the Affordable Care Act—well, it sure wasn’t affordable for my parents. They were hit with a $700/mo plan, a $50 co-pay, and were scraping by on a salary that barely covered their property tax. Meanwhile, the coastal elites were living it up, clapping at their TVs as if they were saving the world by association. But hey, Obama made them feel good about themselves, so I guess it’s fine, right?

So I dug deeper, poking around the Nobel Peace Prize itself. Who gets it, and who decides? Turns out, the Nobel Peace Prize is basically a Democratic Party fan club. The winners are always center-left or further left—just a revolving door of reinforcing the same tired narratives. It’s like a shopping list of the most "popular" causes of the time, picked to ensure that the powerful elites feel like they’re on the right side of history. It’s less about celebrating real-world peace and more about maintaining cozy geopolitical alliances. Gandhi never got the prize because, heaven forbid, they upset the British, who was a powerful ally at the time. MLK Jr., a man who fundamentally reshaped the fabric of American society, didn’t win, even though his legacy is etched into the very soul of this nation. Nelson Mandela, the man who brought down apartheid and showed the world what true reconciliation looks like? Not a prizewinner either. But hey, Mother Teresa and Malala Yousafzai? One abused the people in her care and the other was shot on a school bus and never returned to her homeland to fight the good fight from an all-expense paid 5-star hotel? They make for great Instagram quotes, so let’s hand them the prize. It’s all a feel-good machine, not a genuine acknowledgment of who’s actually changed the world.

The more I looked into it, the more I realized: the media, the tech giants, the so-called cultural gatekeepers weren’t just selling comfort—they were selling illusions. They weren’t about telling the truth; they were about crafting narratives that fed into the Democratic Party’s authority and virtue. The whole industry was built on reinforcing a world where they were the moral champions, the saviors of society, while glossing over the complexities and real issues. It wasn’t about progress—it was about preserving power.

Look at how they market the Democratic Party as the party of inclusivity, equality, and justice. Meanwhile, the reality is much messier, with policies that often fail the very people they claim to champion. But the narrative is key. The media, Hollywood, Big Tech—they don’t want to expose these cracks. Instead, they sell us the comforting illusion that the Democrats are always on the right side of history, keeping the status quo in place while everyone pats themselves on the back.

It’s all a game of smoke and mirrors, where clout, influence, and virtue-signaling take center stage, distracting us from the real, gritty work happening behind the scenes. They’re not interested in true change—they’re interested in maintaining their own grip on power, all while feeding us the idea that they’re the ones saving the world. And we, too often, buy it.

---

I grew up thinking the United Nations was the ultimate authority when it came to peace and human rights. They were supposed to be out there fixing the world, keeping the peace, and calling out injustices. I believed that they were the moral compass we all needed—until I started paying closer attention to their stance on Israel. Suddenly, it wasn’t about promoting peace anymore; it was about pushing a narrative. The UN, along with the ICC and a lot of mainstream left-wing voices, began calling Israel an apartheid state. And that didn’t sit well with me. I’ve got friends from Israel, and they’ve told me time and again how diverse, inclusive, and accepting the country is. So, why was this narrative being pushed that Israel was an apartheid state? Something didn’t add up.

Naturally, I wanted to find out for myself. So, I went on a deep dive. I used what I thought was an unbiased resource—Encyclopaedia Britannica (yeah, I worked there, so I trusted it). I started with the basics: the history of the region. I wanted to know the truth behind the land—who lived there, who occupied it, and what led to the conflict. I began with the earliest days of Jewish immigration to Palestine, how land was bought, and how the situation evolved over time. This wasn’t just about current events; I wanted to understand the roots of it all.

Then, I dove into the wars. The Arab-Israeli conflicts, the Six-Day War, Yom Kippur, all of it. I asked myself: What were the goals of each side? What were their perspectives during these wars, and what did they want from the outset? The outcomes were essential, but I also needed to understand the motivations. What was behind each side’s actions?

After that, I focused on the territories—Gaza and the West Bank. Why were these regions so fraught with tension? I wanted to understand the logistics of it all: why Palestinians and Israelis were separated by roads, why Israel was accused of blocking humanitarian aid, and whether that was true. I needed to look at all sides, not just what I was hearing on the news.

But I didn’t stop at the facts alone. I knew that different political ideologies and frameworks could skew the interpretation of this conflict. I explored how various political groups—on both the left and the right—viewed the issue. What ideological lenses were they using to understand it, and how did those perspectives hold up against Western philosophy and theology? I was trying to get to the heart of it, not just buy into a narrative.

And then, I took a step back and asked myself, “What if one side wins? What does that look like?” What would peace in the region actually mean? What do Palestinians really want, and how does that compare to the Zionist goals? Was peace even possible, or was the conflict destined to drag on forever?

It took me over two years, at least eight hours a day of research, but I finally began to piece it all together. Here’s what I learned: Zionists, at their core, just want a place to live where they aren’t persecuted for being Jewish. It’s that simple. On the flip side, Palestinians who aren’t involved in terrorist groups just want to live in peace, too. But—and this is key—there are groups within Palestine that want more. They’re after an Islamic caliphate, and they believe the only way to make that happen is by wiping out every Jew. That’s what they want: a new world order, a kind of modern-day Roman Empire, where they conquer everyone and either convert them to Islam or kill them. And these groups recruit anyone—men, women, even kids. It gets messy because it’s hard to tell who genuinely wants peace and who’s hell-bent on war when both sides are chanting slogans like, “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.”

The reality is, Palestinians aren’t that different from us. They’re polarized, just like we are, but the stakes are way higher. Because here in the U.S., while we’ve got our far-right factions, they’re not pushing for things like child marriages or strapping suicide bombs on women. But in parts of the Middle East, that’s the reality. In Israel, for example, you can speak your mind without fearing for your life. It’s the only country in the region that treats women, children, and LGBTQ people the same way we do in the western world. Even prisoners are treated with basic respect. But in Palestine? If you speak out against the regime, you risk being executed in a public square, like some brutal medieval spectacle. There’s video evidence of this, even one from earlier this year.

If you say any of this out loud on the left, they label you as Islamophobic, which makes no sense because if you were to ask one of these radical Palestinians, they’d tell you the violence is a practice of their religion. Of course, most muslims are peaceful so I want to be clear I’m only referring to the radical ones in power in the middle east.

So, is Israel committing genocide against Palestinians? No. There’s no way the Zionists—who’ve been persecuted for thousands of years and just want a safe place to call home—would commit genocide. These are the same people who survived the Holocaust, forgave the Nazis, and walked alongside civil rights leaders fighting for equality. The same people who, after being displaced, turned a barren desert into a thriving, modern country. Something not achieved by anywhere else on earth within just a couple generations. They’ve fought countless wars against Palestine and offered peace treaties over and over again, despite being bombarded by rockets on all sides. They even created the Iron Dome, a technology designed to defend, not to attack.

Why would Israel want to wipe out Palestinians when their entire goal has always been peace and coexistence? If genocide were the plan, why invest in technology that limits civilian casualties? It doesn’t add up. Israel’s goal is not to erase Palestinians—it’s to defend itself from a history of violence, while still seeking peace.

I once watched CNN coverage of the war, and they were just starting to talk about Israel’s high-precision rockets—technology so advanced that they can target specific GPS coordinates of a single individual without harming the civilians nearby. Just as they were about to explain how this technology is designed to minimize civilian casualties, the coverage was abruptly cut off mid-sentence. It was like a hard pivot, and suddenly we were thrown into a UN briefing about how Palestinians are victims of an apartheid state.

It was like they didn’t want to finish the thought. They had a narrative to uphold, and it wasn’t about nuanced truth—it was about framing the story a certain way. Never mind that Israel has invested in technologies that actively prevent civilian harm. It’s a lot easier to perpetuate a victimhood narrative than to confront the complexities of the situation, right? The message was clear: the narrative had already been written, and everything else was secondary.

---

Okay, let’s dive into the whole decolonization thing because that’s a huge part of why the narrative around Israel gets so twisted. The idea of decolonization has been pushed hard, especially in left-leaning circles, and it sounds really great at first—like, “Yeah, let’s free people from imperial powers and give them their land back!” But, here’s the thing: it’s not always as black and white as it seems, and when you layer in that decolonization framework, things get… complicated.

You see, decolonization was originally about liberating people from oppressive colonial powers—think British Empire, French, Spanish, etc. And that sounds awesome, right? People should be free from exploitation. But somehow, that same framework gets applied to the Israel-Palestine conflict, even though Israel wasn’t a colonial power in the traditional sense. But somehow, people started pushing this idea that Israel was a settler colonial state, and that the Palestinians were the indigenous people who were “dispossessed” by the evil colonizers. Boom, now you’ve got the whole “Israel is an apartheid state” thing going full force.

The thing is, when people start talking about decolonization, especially in this context, they’re often using it as a gateway to something much, much bigger. What a lot of these decolonization movements really want isn’t just to free people from colonial rule—they want to overthrow capitalism and the global power structure. It’s a backdoor way to push a more radical, Marxist, even communist agenda. And that’s not just some conspiracy theory—look at the rhetoric from some of the biggest voices in these movements. They want the redistribution of wealth, they want to dismantle the state, and they want to radically change the entire economic system. For them, Israel’s existence is a symbol of Western imperialism, capitalism, and everything that’s “wrong” with the world. And, surprise, surprise—Palestinians suffering is just the fuel they throw on the fire to make it all seem righteous.

Take a closer look at the way decolonization gets talked about—especially by groups like BDS (Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions), which champions the Palestinian cause. They’re not just about stopping Israel’s military actions; they want to fundamentally change the power dynamics of the region. A lot of their supporters openly embrace socialist or communist frameworks. And why? Because decolonization for them isn’t just about returning land—it’s about erasing the whole global capitalist structure that they believe is keeping oppressed people down. It’s about revolution, not just peace.

And when you start to put that whole framework together, it starts to make sense why Israel is being painted as the ultimate villain. Israel isn’t just a nation with its own history and right to exist. In the eyes of these decolonization movements, it represents everything they want to dismantle: the West, capitalism, the state, the military-industrial complex. They’re not fighting for peace—they’re fighting for the destruction of everything that’s built that system. And in their worldview, the Palestinians are just the unfortunate pawns in the middle of that chess game. It’s like they’re using Palestinian suffering as a vehicle to promote a much larger ideological agenda. It’s not really about justice for Palestinians—it’s about reshaping the entire world order.

So, when you hear the language of decolonization—when people start talking about how Israel’s occupation of Palestinian land is part of a greater colonial project, and how the only way to fix this is to decolonize the entire Middle East (and then some)—it’s not just a call for land restitution. It’s a call for communism. And that’s the trick, right? They make it sound so noble. They make it sound like it’s about giving the Palestinian people their land back, but underneath it all, it’s part of a much bigger push to tear down the global systems we’ve built—systems that aren’t perfect, but that have allowed for the most freedom and prosperity in history.

And let me tell you, it doesn’t end with Israel. This is a narrative that eventually reaches everywhere. Once you start viewing the world through this decolonization lens, everything becomes about tearing down institutions. It’s not just about Palestine or Israel anymore. It’s about attacking the foundations of Western society itself. It’s like calling for the entire global order to be overthrown, all while hiding behind a cause that sounds incredibly righteous.

So, why does the UN and these groups keep pushing this? Well, it’s easy to rally people behind a cause when it sounds like you’re fighting for the oppressed. And the people who are pushing this radical decolonization agenda know how to sell it. It’s easy to take the side of the “victim” and paint the other side as the oppressive colonizers. But once you start digging deeper, you realize that what they’re really after isn’t peace. It’s revolution. It’s a complete rethinking of the way the world works—an overhaul that might sound like paradise to some, but a nightmare to others.

When I see all these groups jumping on the “Israel is an apartheid state” bandwagon, I can’t help but ask: Do they really understand what they’re signing up for? Because once you embrace the decolonization narrative, you’re not just fighting for justice—you’re buying into a much more radical agenda with consequences that extend far beyond Israel. It’s a flawed logic that doesn’t align with human nature or basic fairness.

The truth is, when you pander to the warmongers, those who stir up division and chaos, and you abandon the voices of reason and virtue—the ones who strive for peace, who lead with integrity—you're pushing the very people who guide humanity toward greatness into the crosshairs of persecution. History shows us that the leaders who promote unity and advancement are often the first to be crushed in totalitarian regimes. And that’s the kind of world this twisted narrative could create. A world where those who offer the most hope are silenced, and the very people pushing humanity toward destruction are celebrated.

But there’s hope.

---

Enter Hillel Neuer. If you're unfamiliar with him, drop everything and Google the guy right now. He's got more intellectual courage than Joan of Arc had in her whole pinky. If the world had a shred of decency, he'd have a Nobel Peace Prize by now. But, of course, the world is a dumpster fire, so instead, he's the most hated person in that hellhole known as the UN. Why? Because he has the audacity to call out their bullshit. Especially when it comes to UNRWA, the United Nations Relief and Works Agency, which, in theory, is supposed to be like the Red Cross but just for Palestine.

Here’s the mind-boggling part: the US and Israel have poured billions—billions—of taxpayer dollars into this organization. And guess who runs the show? Hamas. Yeah, you heard that right. It's like handing billions of dollars to the Mexican cartels and expecting them to fund schools and hospitals. Spoiler alert: they don’t. Instead, the money gets funneled into Hamas’s operations, while the UN keeps accusing anyone who calls this out as being racist. Meanwhile, the people they're supposed to help? They get jack squat. It’s a vicious cycle, and it just keeps spinning.

This is where Hillel Neuer comes in—he’s out here exposing the truth, cutting through the lies, and calling out these institutions for their blatant hypocrisy. He’s not just a thorn in their side; he’s the guy with the bullhorn pointing out the dumpster fire they’re all pretending isn’t there.

And look, I get it, I want the Palestinians to be free just as much as any well-meaning activist. But, I’m also pragmatic enough to know that the situation’s not simple—it's like stepping through a minefield blindfolded. That’s why we need to support Israel in their fight. You’re probably thinking, “Wait, what?” But hear me out. Israel is the only country in the Middle East that cares about the Palestinian people. You can argue with me all you want, but I’ll say it again: Palestinians are not welcome anywhere else. No other country in the region is offering them a refuge or a place to live.

But Israel, the country that has been at war with Palestinians forever, is willing to take them in—as long as they promise not to blow up the place. It’s a harsh reality, but it’s the truth. So yeah, while it’s easy to get swept up in the rhetoric about Israel’s oppression, it’s important to see the big picture. The people who truly care about Palestinians—who’ve made it their mission to help—are often the very ones they’ve been at war with. It's a complicated, ugly mess, but that’s the situation we’re dealing with. And if we're being honest, until the UN and other global bodies stop playing political games and actually start helping, it’s the only option they’ve got.

---

I took a closer look at Harvard—the prestigious institution I used to admire and that three members of my family humbly call their alma mater. But a quick dive into Reddit threads paints a completely different picture: it’s apparently the place where being a Jew or a Republican makes you a walking target. Oh, and free speech? Ranked embarrassingly low.

The more I dug into Harvard’s culture and history, the more I learned about what experts are now calling “intellectual incest.” Sounds dramatic, right? But it’s actually pretty accurate. What’s happening is that professors hire and tenure people who share their exact worldview, creating this cozy echo chamber where everyone pats each other on the back, reinforcing the same ideas over and over again. It’s like a bubble of agreement that slowly smothers any dissenting voices. Over decades, this has turned into a cycle of self-congratulatory groupthink. So much for being the pinnacle of intellectual bravery. The school that’s supposed to house the country’s brightest minds? It’s become a fortress of intellectual cowardice wrapped in Ivy League prestige.

It’s like a factory producing radical left-wing thought leaders who’ve been nurtured in this insulated little bubble, far from the messy reality of differing perspectives. There’s no room for challenges, no pushback—just an ever-growing pile of fragile egos teetering on foundations made of quicksand. Then these people are launched into influential roles where they shape policies, institutions, and the future of our country. But the scariest part? These institutions, once known for their intellectual rigor, are now riddled with the same fragility.

Enter Bari Weiss—thankfully, the opposite of everything Harvard seems to have become. She’s the founder of The Free Press (that I highly recommend you subscribe to immediately) and a founding board member of the University of Austin, a bold, audacious attempt to create the next Harvard before the original implodes under the weight of its own self-importance. Mister Rogers always said, “Look for the helpers in times of crisis.” Well, here’s one. There are always helpers. And Bari Weiss is one of them—standing up, speaking out, and leading the charge for intellectual freedom. Because, clearly, when the so-called “intellectual giants” are more interested in preserving their echo chamber than actual knowledge, it’s up to people like her to push back and remind us of what higher education is supposed to be: a place of real debate, challenging ideas, and yes, the freedom to disagree.

---

And if your brain isn’t already on the verge of combustion, let me throw in the pièce de résistance: the great, all-consuming myth of the bad orange man. Trump wasn’t just a curveball; he was a wrecking ball. The first president who didn’t come pre-packaged in the polished, legal-political machine. He didn’t row crew at Yale or flash a purple heart from some heroic war tale. Nope. He was messy, flawed, and said things that made America clutch its collective pearls in terror.

He didn’t follow the unspoken rules of decorum, and the result? Pure, unfiltered chaos. Watching his administration was like binge-watching a reality show set in the Oval Office—firings every other week, feuds breaking out like high school drama, sacred traditions treated like yesterday’s leftovers. It was a spectacle that left everyone wondering: is this the end of America’s global power? No one was holding back. And then—bam—Covid hit, and suddenly, everyone was split into two camps: the Dr. Fauci Hall Monitors and the ones who tossed out the rulebook. At first, Trump played nice with Dr. Fauci, but then, he joined the "break the rules" camp.

And you know what? That infuriated people. Panic mode activated. Twitter became ground zero for misinformation, and guess what? Censorship started to sneak in as a "solution." They cracked down on anyone who didn’t toe the official narrative line—yep, you guessed it, mostly Republicans. Sound familiar? I feel like a broken record.

But here’s the thing that got drowned out in all the chaos: Trump was lied to about how necessary the lockdowns really were. Turns out they weren’t actually stopping the spread like everyone said. And when he found out? He lost it. Heads rolled, people got fired, and Dr. Fauci? That guy got roasted like a marshmallow at a campfire.

But of course, the media had a field day, painting Trump as this unhinged conspiracy nut who didn’t believe in science or vaccines. Fast forward, and now even Fauci himself has quietly admitted, in a report, that yeah, the lockdowns? Basically a big, steaming pile of useless.

Here’s the kicker, though. You know what they don’t tell you about becoming president? You’ve got two months—two months—to hire like 10,000 people before you even move into the White House. You need a team, and not just any team—you need the brightest people who actually know what they’re doing and will listen to your direction. It's like asking a scrappy startup founder to suddenly run Microsoft overnight. Trump? He went in blind. Hired people left and right, probably thinking, “How hard can this be?” Spoiler alert: it’s really freaking hard.

But now? Now he’s been through the wringer. He’s seen the game, knows the players, and gets how the machine works. It’s not going to be a rookie season this time around. Like the Mighty Ducks, this time he’s playing to win. And honestly, I think it’ll be a whole lot more productive than the first go-round. Call it experience, call it battle scars—whatever you want. Maybe he’s been humbled by the assassination attempts. But he's got a better chance of getting things done this time. And now more people have his back.

---

The media has a special kind of hate for Trump’s current wingman, Elon Musk. Conventional thinkers have a history of attacking those who refuse to toe the line. Just look at Galileo or Vincent Van Gogh—two radical visionaries who were vilified in their time. They were labeled crazy, impractical, or dangerous. But guess what? Their ideas ended up changing the world. Elon Musk? Same story, different century.

The media has been gunning for him ever since he stopped playing the political game and shifted gears. But let’s be real for a second: isn’t it a bit too easy to tear down someone trying to make humanity multi-planetary, electrify the car industry, and create a global satellite network to connect even the most remote areas of the world? The guy literally shot a Tesla into space. That’s not just thinking outside the box—that’s blowing the damn box up.

Sure, Elon’s a little weird. His tweets can be strange, and his sense of humor isn’t for everyone. But why are we so quick to dismiss someone who’s literally changing the way we think about the future? Progress doesn’t happen by sticking to what’s comfortable or playing it safe. It’s uncomfortable, messy, and disruptive. Yet here we are, crucifying the people who dare to break the mold.

"Here's to the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes... The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward."
— Apple "Think Different" campaign

The truth? Most of the hatred towards Elon comes from people who can’t handle someone like him. He’s not following the rules. He’s not here to be liked or win approval from the mainstream. He’s just doing the damn thing, pushing humanity forward in ways that make people uncomfortable. But guess what? That’s how real progress happens. It’s not pretty, it doesn’t fit into a neat little box, and it’s going to ruffle feathers. But that’s how revolutions are born.

So maybe it’s time we stop hating on eccentric geniuses and start thanking them for the wild ideas that could be our ticket to a better future. Just like Galileo and Van Gogh, Elon Musk may be misunderstood in his time, but decades—or centuries—down the line, we’ll look back and realize that he was one of the ones who truly changed the world. And honestly? I kind of hope that one day, we’ll see these years as the beginning of something revolutionary, no matter how many tweets or memes it took to get there.

---

"In a time of deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act."

– George Orwell

Okay, so here’s something I’ve been thinking about: progress doesn’t come from playing it safe or clinging to some moral high ground. It comes from the brave, the eccentric, the ones who challenge the status quo and push us to dream bigger. The ones who make life worth living, even when it’s messy and requires sacrificing something we value for something bigger than ourselves.

I don’t need to be told I’m on the "right side of history," or that having the moral high ground makes me a better person. What I need is a culture full of imperfect people who aren’t afraid to take risks, to fail, to push boundaries. People who are curious, who question the world and don’t settle for easy answers.

The ones who solve problems in creative ways. I think about the greats—Galileo, Van Gogh, or Einstein. They were misunderstood, criticized, and labeled crazy in their time, but they changed the world. Why? Because they had an internal locus of control and lots of imagination. They thought bigger. And even though people hated them for it, they pushed the world forward.

There have been times when I’ve felt lost in the noise or wondered if my voice even mattered. But then I realized: just by showing up, by standing in my truth, I’m making a difference. It’s not about getting everything right or having some perfect story. It’s about going where there is no path and leaving a trail.