There’s something deeply disorienting about studying conspiracy theories long enough that you begin to understand them.

Not because they start making sense.

But because you begin to understand how millions of people can come to believe them.

And once you understand that — once you understand the emotional logic underneath movements like QAnon — you can’t really look at American politics the same way ever again.

One of the hardest parts about studying conspiracy theories at the scale and complexity of QAnon is that trying to explain them can make you sound insane.

In some ways, the work that I’ve done infiltrating and studying white supremacist, neo-Nazi, and other extremist organizations is actually simpler by comparison.

Those groups are dangerous. Violent. Organized.

But relatively speaking, they’re flatter.

There are fewer relevant characters.

Fewer moving parts.

Fewer layers of mythology.

QAnon was something different.

At its peak, there were likely tens of millions of Americans actively engaging with QAnon-related content online daily.

And I think many Americans still misunderstand what that actually means.

A lot of people probably first became aware of QAnon because of the so-called “QAnon Shaman” — the guy in the horned hat who became infamous after the January 6th attack on the Capitol.

QAnon didn’t just spread conspiracy theories about Hillary Clinton or the so-called stolen election.

It fueled a broader collapse in people’s relationship with reality.

Families broke apart.

Parents stopped speaking to children.

Grandparents lost contact with their grandchildren.

Brothers and sisters became estranged.

Not because of ordinary political disagreements.

But because the conspiracy theories caused people to believe things that made them dangerous.

Unstable.

Untrustworthy.

And yet now, as I was recording this episode at the end of May 2026, almost nobody talks about QAnon anymore.

This movement that consumed enormous portions of the American internet…

that radicalized millions of people…

that helped fuel the January 6th insurrection…

that fundamentally reshaped the Republican Party…

It’s like we collectively memory-holed the entire thing.

In the days after January 6th, QAnon dominated cable news.

Every major network.

Every newspaper.

Every panel discussion.

But now?

Almost silence.

And I think part of the reason for that silence is because confronting what actually happened would force us to grapple with something much more uncomfortable:

QAnon didn’t really disappear.

Its believers are still here.

The same people who spent years convincing themselves that Democrats were satanic pedophiles…

that Donald Trump was secretly fighting a hidden war against a global cabal…

that mass executions and military tribunals were coming…

Those people didn’t vanish.

They were absorbed into the broader MAGA movement.

The conspiracy culture remained.

The paranoia remained.

The rejection of objective reality remained.

Only the branding changed.

I’ve said before on this show that I had been Facebook friends with disgraced former General and convicted felon ever since he was selected as Donald Trump’s National Security Advisor during the first Trump administration.

Though apparently I can’t say that anymore.

Because at some point recently, he unfriended me.

But I bring Flynn up because I watched this transformation happen in real time.

I watched a formerly respected senior general in the United States Army embrace a conspiracy movement that cast him as one of its central heroes.

QAnon believers imagined Flynn as one of the leaders of what they called “The Storm” — a fantasy involving mass arrests, executions, military tribunals, and violent retribution against Trump’s political enemies.

And Flynn encouraged it.

Not always directly.

Sometimes through vague gestures.

Likes.

Shares.

Subtle affirmations.

Permission.

And because Flynn was a retired general officer — because he wrapped himself in military credibility — millions of people treated him as trustworthy.

That credibility grew the QAnon movement tremendously.

Veterans and military leaders occupy a privileged place in American culture.

People often assume service equals integrity.

Wisdom.

Honor.

Sometimes that trust is earned.

Sometimes it isn’t.

Flynn understood that.

For years, I watched his social media activity closely.

You could often tell when he was nervous about investigations or indictments based on the things he would post.

At one point, just before it became public that he would begin cooperating with investigators, he posted a photo of airplane contrails in the sky that vaguely resembled the shape of a cross.

That kind of thing became common.

Religious symbolism.

Apocalyptic language.

Conspiratorial messaging.

And surrounding all of it were hundreds of QAnon followers flooding his page every single day with posts treating him like a messianic figure.

Again — not random trolls.

Not fringe internet users.

Americans.

Voters.

Military veterans.

Parents.

Police officers.

People who genuinely believed they were participating in some kind of patriotic awakening.

And over time, instead of being rejected by the Republican Party, those conspiratorial communities were welcomed into it. They took it over.

After January 6th, there was a brief moment where it seemed possible that Republicans might finally sever themselves from the movement that fueled the insurrection.

Instead, they spent years rehabilitating it.

The January 6th rioters were turned into martyrs.

The conspiracy theorists were normalized.

And eventually, the people who helped attack the Capitol were pardoned.

And now, Trump wants to make them all — the most committed and radicalized of the QAnon movement — millionaires.

But people today have flatted them down to violent insurrectionists, and election deniers. But they’re so much more radicalized and dangerous than those labels communicate.

Conspiracy movements do not need to remain centralized to remain dangerous.

Once people become conditioned to reject objective reality… once they learn to treat facts as negotiable… once they begin viewing politics as an existential struggle between good and evil…

those belief systems become incredibly difficult to reverse.

And that’s one of the reasons I wanted to speak with .

Denver is a former Republican congressman from Virginia.

He later worked as a senior investigator for the January 6th Committee.

And he is the author of the book The Breach, which examines the networks, personalities, and conspiracy ecosystems surrounding January 6th.

In this conversation, we talk about how QAnon evolved from an internet conspiracy into a broader political identity.

We talk about why conspiracy culture didn’t disappear after January 6th.

We talk about how extremist movements adapt, fragment, and survive.

And we talk about what happens to a democracy when millions of people are encouraged to believe that reality itself is negotiable.

I’m Kris Goldsmith, and this is On Offense.

Let’s get into it. The full episode is below.

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Between 2021 and 2025, I worked on a series of war games and tabletop exercises focused on one central question: what would happen if Donald Trump tried to return to power through force — or what would happen if he won and governed like an authoritarian?

The reason think tanks, journalists, congressional investigators, and even members of the January 6th Committee brought me into those conversations was because of the work I’ve spent years doing studying the information ecosystem around Trumpism — the online culture, the propagandists, the influencers, the livestreamers, the conspiracy theorists, and the extremist movements that shaped the world MAGA lived inside.

The people who followed him with the devotion of Parrot Heads following Jimmy Buffett. A political movement that became not just ideological, but cultural, tribal, and it consumed their very identities.

A lot of that work in building war games and training exercises was informed not just by my own observations in the field, but also by placing my own research and experiences in the context provided by the books I’ve recommended for years. Especially the books I eventually included on the original Anti-Fascist Book Club reading list after the 2024 election. Books like Strongmen by , On Tyranny by , and Surviving Autocracy by Masha Gessen.

I also included How to Be an Antiracist by because I believed — and still believe — that learning how oppression functions in America for Black people, is essential to understanding how authoritarianism works here, in the world we’re most familiar with. Kendi’s work talks about a reality that’s closer to home than Iraq under Saddam Hussein, Mussolini’s Italy, or Putin’s Russia. And the “how-to” part of Kendi’s is important. It’s instructional. It grants you agency. It gives you a mission. That book asks readers to examine how everyday choices either reinforce injustice or challenge it.

But all of those books — as important as they are — were written well before Trump fully returned to power.

They were written before masked federal agents disappeared people into vans in American cities. Before universities folded. Before law firms surrendered. Before billionaires openly aligned themselves with authoritarian politics. Before Americans began adapting themselves psychologically to living under constant democratic erosion.

Back then, much of the conversation was still theoretical. Preventative. Preparatory.

Like my war games and tabletop exercises, my scenario planning and the trainings that I led.

But today we’re living beyond the horizon that I built into my war games.

And that’s what struck me when reached out and offered to send me his new book, How to Be a Dissident.

I intentionally avoided reading reviews or interviews beforehand because I wanted to encounter the book on its own terms. And almost immediately, it felt different from many of the books written during Trump’s first rise to power.

It opens with a nightmare. A familiar scene, a scenario you’ve probably had in your own mind. Something that every child imagines when they learn about the ugliest parts of history. But Beckerman isn’t writing about history, he’s writing about now. And this book is different because it turns inward and demands that we answer the question — are we who we believe we are? Are we who we want to be?

Books like On Tyranny often focus on action and reaction — and you probably have your favorite rule: do not obey in advance, defend institutions, believe in truth. Timothy Snyder tells you how to respond to the world around you. But Beckerman is doing something different.

He’s asking not just: what should you do?

But: who are you becoming while all of this happens around you?

What does it mean to live with integrity in an age of conformity? How do ordinary people convince themselves to stay silent? Why do some people comply while others “sit apart” and become dissidents?

Much of the book feels intentionally counterintuitive. The chapter titles are clever, unsettling, and sometimes even off-putting. “Be a pessimist.” “Be reckless.” “Be alone.”

But underneath all of it is something deeply clarifying.

This isn’t just a book about resisting authoritarianism. It’s a book about resisting the psychological pull to normalize it.

At this point in American history, we’re no longer preparing for authoritarianism. We’re living through it.

Now before you watch or listen to my interview with Gal Beckerman, I want to ask of you a quick favor. Please like, share, and comment on this Substack post. A lot of you did that on the last episode, and it helped us to reach five-times our average audience. If we keep this up, this show is going to succeed in its mission to bring hope and critical information to more Americans who need these things.

I’m Kris Goldsmith, and this is On Offense. Now let’s get into it.

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That has meant spending time inside their ecosystems—tracking networks, infiltrating groups, and documenting how individuals and organizations move from rhetoric to action. It has also meant working alongside journalists, researchers, and, at times, law enforcement, to …

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And yet, there is a persistent instinct among Democratic politicians to treat this as normal political conflict. To promise “anything and everything is on the table after the next election,” kicking accountability down the road as if us voting harder is going to fix this.

We can’t wait that long, and expecting the Democratic Party to fix this problem without a significant change in their posture towards Republicans is wishful thinking.

When a political party is actively working to dilute the voting power of Black Americans — and doing it in the open — that is not just “partisan hardball.” It’s overt racism.

And treating this problem like that overt racism isn’t meaningfully supported by every politician still calling themselves a Republican? That’s not ignorance. It’s complicity.

I see this argument constantly about my own representative, Mike Lawler, here in New York.

He’s often framed as a “moderate,” or as somehow different from the Republicans actively pushing racial gerrymandering in the South.

But if he were actually different, he would be using his platform to aggressively oppose what his party is doing to Black voters.

He’s not.

And that matters.

Because benefiting from a system built on racist disenfranchisement while staying silent about it is not neutrality—it’s participation.

This is how the system sustains itself — local “moderates” normalizing national harm.

If members of the same party benefit from racial gerrymandering — and do nothing to stop it—they are part of the same project.

Silence isn’t neutrality here. It’s alignment.

For years, Democrats have operated under the assumption that restraint would be reciprocated.

That if they respected norms, avoided escalation, and tried to govern in good faith, the system would stabilize.

That assumption has been tested over and over again.

It has failed every time.

Meanwhile, the other side has been willing to use every lever available — courts, legislatures, redistricting — to consolidate power.

You’d be right to point out that Democrats in California and Virginia approved their own redistricting — paving the way for a balancing of the gains Republicans have already made by disenfranchisement of minorities in Texas.

But so far Democrats are merely reciprocating with equal and opposite reactions — they’re not escalating to impose real costs for them.

Democrats don’t have to adopt the same values to recognize the reality of the fight they’re in.

But they do have to stop pretending this is a shared rules environment.

Because it isn’t.

If Democrats hope to actually make gains this November — if ever again — they need to promise more than having “all options on the table.”

They need to be prescriptive: make DC a state. Expand the Supreme Court. And be willing to gerrymander the Republican party out of power with all of the shamelessness of their racist gerrymandering.

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And he didn’t just fail to recuse himself—he spent years mischaracterizing those sources of income on his disclosure forms.

That’s not a technicality. It’s a direct challenge to the idea that anyone in this country is bound by the rule of law.

If the Chief Justice of t…

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Author’s Note (April 22, 2026):
The Department of Justice has charged the Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC) over its use of paid informants inside extremist groups.

This episode was recorded before that news broke—but it explores the exact kind of work now at the center of that controversy: infiltrating extremist networks, documenting their activity, and…

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Author’s note: This is the final of three On Offense episodes we filmed in Minneapolis. It’s not a recap of the livestream—it’s a new cut, built from never-before-seen footage and anchored by two exclusive interviews.

What we captured here is closer to a documentary than a typical episode. The Dropkick Murphys gave us the ability to build around their li…

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Open Letter to My GOP Congressman: Yes, President Trump Threatened to Order the U.S. Military to Commit Genocide

A combat veteran and extremism expert’s warning about what Donald Trump’s words mean under the law—and what your responsibility is now

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Some people shut down. They turn away. They wait for things to go back to normal.

Others step forward.

Riveter had already been working as a street medic in the stre…

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If your plan is to go out on Saturday, wave signs, march in a big crowd, and show how angry you are—you’re wasting your time. You’re wasting your energy.

That doesn’t mean the protests don’t matter. It means most people are using them wrong.

We’ve seen this pattern over and over again. Massive turnout. Media coverage. A temporary sense of solidarity. And then… nothing. No sustained pressure. No infrastructure. No growth in actual organizing power.

That’s not because people don’t care. It’s because too many people are treating protest like the goal.

It’s not.

Protest is a tool. Not the strategy.

There’s a version of this argument that says these protests “build hope.” That they show people they’re not alone, and that’s enough to carry us through to the next election.

Hope matters. But hope without structure doesn’t win anything.

Resistance is not something you do once every few months on a Saturday. And it’s not something you do alone in a crowd of strangers.

If that’s all it is, it’s a release valve—not a force.

Historian makes a similar point in his recent piece, where he asks whether movements like “No Kings” are thinking like patriots—or like loyalists. His argument is simple: protest and elections can be part of a strategy, but they are not sufficient on their own if the system producing the problem is the problem itself.

That’s the real question most people are avoiding.

And it’s the one that should shape how you show up.

Tad Stoermer

Is "No Kings" a Loyalist Rally?

I’ve been chasing ghosts around London for a few days. Not the tourist version. The version where you’re walking the same streets these people walked in 1774 and 1775, when everything was escalating on both sides of the Atlantic and nobody knew yet which way it was going to break…

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2 months ago · 41 likes · 7 comments · Tad Stoermer

The most powerful tool we have is local community

Fascism doesn’t just come from the White House or Congress.

It grows locally. In communities. In social networks. In the absence of organized resistance where people actually live.

Which means the most effective place to fight it is also local.

Not abstract. Not national. Not once every few months.

Local. Consistent. Relational.

That’s where movements are built.

If you go, go with a plan

If you’re going to a “No Kings” protest, treat it like what it actually is: a concentration of people who are already primed to care.

That’s an opportunity.

So use it.

Not a conversation that ends when the march ends. A real connection. Names. Numbers. A concrete plan to meet again within the next week.

Because the protest ends. But what you build afterward doesn’t have to.

Share

Turn momentum into structure

I’ve spent years working on how to make this easier for people who don’t have organizing experience.

That’s why we built the Antifascist Book Club model at Veterans Fighting Fascism.

Get your FREE guides here.

It’s not just a reading list. It’s a framework for building local community. There are guides, tools, and instruction manuals designed for people starting from zero.

Print them. Share them. Use them as a starting point.

Meet at a coffee shop, a bar, a library—wherever you can get people in a room together.

Make a commitment to keep showing up.

Think of it as a social lubricant that becomes social glue.

Because by the time the next protest rolls around, you’re not showing up alone anymore.

You’re showing up with a network.

And that network is growing.

This is how movements actually scale

Start with one connection.

Turn it into a group.

Turn that group into a community.

And then repeat.

That’s how you build something that lasts longer than a news cycle.

That’s how you turn energy into power.

And that’s how you stop wasting your time—and start becoming a force for good.

If you’re new here, welcome. I’ve been writing about how to build real antifascist organizing power at the local level. If this resonates, start here:

And if you’re ready to get started, head to Veterans Fighting Fascism and download the FREE guides.

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I've just returned from Minneapolis. I'm recording this in March of 2026 about two months after federal agents murdered Renee Nicole Good and Alex Pretti.

I was in Minnesota representing and Veterans Fighting Fascism. Working with the , we hosted, sponsored, and livestreamed a concert and fundraiser featuring the Dropkick Murphys and a bunch of incredible local bands.

As of this recording, we've raised more than $51,000 for local activists and organizations in Minneapolis. They'll be using the money to feed and pay rent for families in need, provide legal services to immigrants detained by ICE and to support local businesses who've been seriously harmed by the ice occupation.

This interview and episode was supposed to be my shortest ever. We were pressed for time. I sat down with my friend , who many of you may know online as @USMCAngryVeteran. Although Matt is from upstate New York, I wanted to interview him in Minnesota because he's been traveling around the country since Donald Trump's second inauguration. He's been visiting hot spots all over the US, documenting what Americans are experiencing at the hands of their own government, inspiring people to take action, and trying to bring some joy and hope to communities that have been enduring months of terror. I wanted to give him an opportunity to share his perspective and experiences in this podcast, to give him some more space than he has with his typical short form social media content.

During the conversation, Matt told me about a local friend of his who came to our event and who had visited the Alex Pretti memorial for the first time because we were there. Matt was telling us about how his friend had a personal connection to Alex Pretti, and what it felt like being with her at that memorial.

Her name is Riveter.

She had driven Matt to the interview and was planning to drive him to the airport afterwards so that he could go home. When my producer and I realized that she was who Matt was talking about, we asked if she would be willing to share her story.

Graciously, she said yes, so we kept the cameras rolling. Riveter is an Army veteran from Minnesota. She was also once a patient of Alex Pretti, the VA nurse whose death has become a symbol of what this city has endured and what everyday heroes look like. We filmed this interview at the Black Forest Inn, a beautiful German restaurant and beer hall just across the street from that memorial, the place where Pretti was murdered.

What followed was one of the most powerful and emotional interviews that I have ever recorded. So please forgive the slightly chaotic structure of this episode. What you're about to hear is a conversation that grew in real time, starting as a one on one with Matt Gordon and ending with the testimony of a Riveter, a local veteran who has spent the last several months serving her community as a street medic in Minneapolis.

And just a bit of a spoiler alert and a warning. You might want to get the tissues ready.

I cried during this interview, and as I've worked to edit and spot check the recordings, I've cried a few more times since. If you're driving as you're listening to this, just be prepared. You may need to pull over. Before we kick off the interview, I want to thank Gina Christ, the owner of the Black Forest Inn, whose property hosted the fundraiser and concert. She then got up early the next morning to open her restaurant so that we could film this interview there. Without further ado. Here is my conversation with Matt Gordon, also known as @USMCAngryVeteran, and his dear friend who I am so lucky to have met, Riveter.

🎧 Follow Matt Gordon (@USMCAngryVeteran):

👉 On Instagram

👉 On TikTok

🎧 Follow Riveter:

👉 On TikTok

👉 On Instagram

📣 Support On Offense: Subscribe, rate, and share the show using this link to find us on all platforms. Every post, comment, and share helps build a stronger pro-democracy movement.

🔥 Take action: Watch the full Dropkick Murphys concert and fundraiser—and support the people of Minneapolis directly at AbolishICE.live. Every dollar goes to the community. Veterans Fighting Fascism is collecting donations, but not keeping a penny.

Thanks for reading—and listening.

Let’s go on offense.

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Our allies in Ukraine have been on the frontlines experiencing this evolution of war for years now. Many of those drones are made by Iran and deployed by Russia in an illegal war of expansion. …

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The site is also where people go to remember Renée Nicole Good, who had been killed in cold blood just a couple weeks earlier and a few blocks away in a more residential part of town.

Both deaths were captured on video, and any reasonable person could see that these deaths weren’t just negligent, they were murder. Both victims were members of the community who were trying to help their neighbors. And both were later branded as terrorists by Donald Trump, Stephen Miller, and Kristi Noem, whose disastrous policies caused their deaths.

The place where Alex was killed is now a memorial—something every American should experience for themselves. I say “experience,” not simply “see,” because I want to make clear that there’s something about it that pictures and videos cannot do justice.

Across the street sits the Black Forest Inn, a beloved German restaurant and beer garden in the Whittier neighborhood whose parking lot became the site of something extraordinary this weekend: a free tribute concert and community fundraiser headlined by the Dropkick Murphys.

Thousands of people showed up.

It rained through much of the day, but people came anyway. Local bands took the stage. Members of the community spoke out, sharing a message of defiance and pride in the face of a brutal occupation by their own federal government. And across the street, just yards away, the memorial for Alex Pretti stood as a quiet reminder of why everyone was there.

I spent nearly two full days at that memorial.

People came constantly—every minute I was there. Candles were burning even in the rain. Colleagues from the VA had left stethoscopes and nurses’ uniforms covered with handwritten messages. Handmade art. Notes of gratitude. Small objects left by people whose lives Alex touched.

Every time I walked near the memorial, I felt a pressure in my chest. My eyes teared up. A wave of emotion rocked my body, like a kick in the gut.

I live a thousand miles away from Minneapolis. I wasn’t a patient of Alex, and never would have had a reason to know him while he was alive.

But the VA hospital system he dedicated his professional life to serving saved my life. Again and again.

For nearly twenty years I’ve received care from VA doctors, nurses, and staff across multiple states and in Washington, D.C. When Alex Pretti was killed, I saw the people who have helped keep me alive for half my life reflected in him.

Standing at that memorial was overwhelming.

The concert was a celebration of life on a scale I’ve never seen before. Music filled the street. Thousands of people sang and danced in the rain. And at the same time, the memorial remained just across the street—a quiet place where people continued to mourn.

That juxtaposition said everything about Minneapolis right now.

This is a city carrying deep trauma.

But it is also a city refusing to break.

Minneapolis Is Still Under Pressure

One of the most important things people across the country need to understand is that even though Minneapolis has faded from national headlines, federal operations there have not stopped.

They’ve simply changed tactics.

Activists and advocates who have been on the ground for months told me that federal agents are increasingly moving into suburbs and rural areas where communities are less organized and less prepared. In dense cities, people can mobilize quickly. Outside the city, neighbors are more isolated—and therefore more vulnerable.

I met with veterans who have been supporting the community for months, both locals and people who have upended their lives to move to Minneapolis to provide mutual aid, confront ICE, and keep Americans’ attention on the daily kidnappings by federal agents.

I spoke with a patient of Alex Pretti at the Minneapolis VA. I met restaurant owners who opened their doors and served hot coffee and free meals to neighbors in the days following the killings. Teachers are delivering food to students because families have been afraid to leave their homes since November. Proud, self-described soccer moms are using their minivans to shuttle people to safety after ICE dumps them in the snow with no wallet, no jacket, and no phone.

Businesses have been shuttered for months because both employees and customers are scared.

Students have missed months of school.

Families worry that if they leave their homes they could be followed—or kidnapped by armed, masked thugs in unmarked rental cars.

And all of this is happening in a city where two members of the community—Renée Good and Alex Pretti—were killed on video.

Despite everything, the community continues to show up for each other.

What the People of Minneapolis Want the Rest of America to Know

Over and over again, people told me two things.

First: they still need help.

Second: what is happening to them could happen anywhere.

Minneapolis residents asked people across the country to keep talking about this. The national news cycle has moved on to other crises—and many of them matter deeply. War overseas—where troops are dying and many more are being injured than our government will admit—is real fucking urgent.

But Minneapolis is still experiencing its own kind of war right now.

Stories from this city need to be amplified.

The second thing they asked for is tangible support.

Visit the city.

Send care packages.

Support the people whose livelihoods have been shattered.

Every neighborhood I drove through had signs in windows and storefronts rejecting what was happening to their city. Minneapolis is pushing back. But communities under pressure cannot do it alone.

How the Concert and Fundraiser Came Into Being

About three weeks ago, a few friends had an idea. Dropkick Murphys, a band who has been fighting for and providing real, tangible assistance to working class people for the last thirty years was scheduled to play in St. Paul in the evening of Friday, March 6th.

Dropkick was excited to get it done. At first, the plan was to have them pull up on a flatbed, play acoustically in a sort of guerrilla/surprise show, and drive off to make it to their sold-out show in time. But that would require a permit… and if we needed a permit anyway, why not build something bigger?

Local anti-racist activist, punk rocker, and DKM super-fan Marty O’Connor canvassed the neighborhood looking for a venue. And when Gina Christ of the Black Forest Inn heard from her mother that “some guy was talking about the Dropkick Murphys wanting to play a show, and he left a card” she sprang into action to make it happen.

The concert this weekend was organized over just a few weeks in February by local activists and organizations, including but not limited to Anna Schmitz, executive director of the Whittier Alliance, and the Minneapolis Foundation, with help from , , and Veterans Fighting Fascism.

Our objective was to help the community directly. To bring resources. To bring joy. And we accomplished our mission.

Thanks to thousands of people who showed up in the rain—and thousands more who watched online—we have already raised more than $46,000 as of Tuesday morning, March 10.

The fundraiser remains open at AbolishICE.live, and every dollar raised goes directly to community support efforts, including:

• The Rent Fundraiser, helping hundreds of Twin Cities families stay housed

• The Eat Street Fundraiser, supporting small businesses recovering from recent events

• The Immigrant Law Center, which provides legal services and advocacy for immigrant families

• The South Minneapolis Families Fund, assisting families facing immediate financial hardship

If you have the capacity to help, please consider contributing.

The livestream from the concert—including hours of incredible performances by the Dropkick Murphys and local bands—is also available at AbolishICE.live.

Preparing for What Comes Next

People in Minneapolis told me something else that Americans everywhere should hear.

They believe what they are experiencing now is coming to other communities next.

Congress recently provided DHS with a massive influx of funding, and agencies are rapidly expanding the number of federal personnel being trained for domestic operations. In August, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth ordered the creation of a “National Guard Response Force”, or “Quick Reaction Force”, that will be used to suppress Americans’ rights.

And they are not focusing only on major cities.

Federal tactics are increasingly targeting suburbs and smaller towns where organizing infrastructure is weaker.

That’s why preparation matters.

If you don’t know where to start, I’ve built something to help.

At veteransfightingfascism.org, my nonprofit Veterans Fighting Fascism hosts a set of guides on how to start an antifascist book club. It’s a simple model that helps people meet their neighbors, build trust, and begin organizing locally.

These groups start with conversation—but they often grow into networks capable of protecting and supporting their communities.

If you’re wondering what you can do where you live, start with the “How to Start an Antifascist Book Club” guide — it’s a good place to begin.

A Quick Programming Note for On Offense

Because we captured so much footage during this trip, the On Offense podcast will not publish a new episode on its usual Wednesday schedule this week.

Instead, over the coming weeks we will release multiple interviews recorded on the ground in Minneapolis, including conversations with:

• (@usmcangryvetera), a Marine veteran who has been organizing and documenting events on the ground in Minneapolis and around the country

• Riveter, a local woman veteran and former patient of Alex Pretti at the Minneapolis VA who has been serving on the frontlines as a street medic

• Ken Casey, frontman of the Dropkick Murphys and longtime advocate for working-class communities

• Gina Christ, owner of the Black Forest Inn, whose restaurant hosted the concert and whose business and community have been deeply affected by recent events

• Ian Austin, a six-times-deployed Army Ranger who was arrested alongside journalist Don Lemon for engaging in a protest against ICE

These conversations capture the voices of people living this moment in real time.

I think you’ll understand what Minneapolis is experiencing, and what other cities will be soon, much better once you hear from them directly.

Keep Minneapolis in Your Heart and Mind

What I witnessed in Minneapolis was painful, inspiring, and unforgettable.

I saw grief.

I saw courage.

And I saw thousands of people standing together in the rain to say that their community will not be intimidated.

If you want to support them, the most direct way to help right now is to visit AbolishICE.live.

Watch the concert.

Share the story.

And if you can, help keep this community standing.

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That is the founding principle of Vietnam Veterans of America — the congressionally chartered veteran service organization where I had the privilege of working for nearly five years. It was founded by anti-war protesters who were also warriors — women and men who fought in Vietnam and came home determined to make sure the next generation of service members would not be treated the way they were.

When I deployed more than thirty years later, I came home to a country shaped by their work. I came home with benefits they fought for. I came home to a culture that had learned to separate the warrior from the war — so that even when the Iraq War that I fought in became deeply unpopular, the American people understood that a soldier following lawful orders was not the enemy.

That cultural shift didn’t happen by accident.

It happened because veterans chose an institution and took its side.

By the time I worked there, Vietnam Veterans of America had spent nearly fifty years defending one of the most important institutions in American democracy: the Department of Veterans Affairs.

The VA is the second-largest cabinet-level department in the federal government. It operates the largest integrated healthcare system in the United States. It trains physicians. It develops medical breakthroughs. It serves as a backstop during national emergencies. And it keeps promises made to the people sent to fight this country’s wars.

Most Americans think the VA is failing. They remember the scandals. The wait-time crisis. The headlines.

What they don’t hear nearly as often is that veteran patient satisfaction consistently outpaces most private healthcare systems. They don’t hear about the medical innovations. They don’t hear about the quiet, steady improvements.

Because if it bleeds, it leads.

And there has always been a class of powerful people who would prefer to ruin the VA’s reputation so that they can dismantle it — not because it fails, but because it represents something dangerous: a functioning government-provided healthcare system that they can’t profit off of unless it’s privatized.

During the first Trump administration, control of the VA was effectively steered by three wealthy Mar-a-Lago members who were not veterans, but who took a keen interest in veterans’ healthcare. Major contracts were influenced. Privatization proposals were advanced. And veterans’ private and medical data was discussed as a commodity to be sold.

Meanwhile, a relatively small handful of veteran policy experts — across organizations like VVA, Veterans of Foreign Wars, Disabled American Veterans, and others — worked relentlessly to defend the institution. They didn’t have the money. They didn’t have billionaire donors. But they specialized. They focused. They defended one thing — and they held the line.

And they were effective.

It is institutions that help us to preserve decency. They need our help as well. Do not speak of our institutions unless you make them yours by acting on their behalf. Institutions do not protect themselves. They fall one after the other unless each is defended from the beginning. So choose an institution you care about — a court, a newspaper, a law, a labor union — and take its side.

— Timothy Snyder, On Tyranny

That’s what Snyder means when he tells us to defend institutions.

Defending institutions doesn’t mean trying to fight every battle everywhere all at once. It means choosing something you care about. Something you understand. Something where you can make an impact — and taking its side.

Since returning to office, Donald Trump has sought to dismantle or hollow out as many institutions as possible — from USAID to the Department of Education — while simultaneously weaponizing federal power against perceived political enemies.

It would be easy to lose faith. Seeing Trump and his cronies escape justice time and time again has led to a lot of disillusionment.

It would be easy to assume that the courts no longer matter. That the justice system is broken beyond repair. That accountability is a myth.

But institutions do not defend themselves.

They survive because of the helpers.

Because of the specialists.

Because of the people who choose to take their side.

And today, we’re going to talk about one of those institutions: the federal courts.

Right now, in district courtrooms across the country, judges are reviewing executive orders, immigration detention policies, and attempts by DHS and ICE to reinterpret decades of settled law.

Much of the chaos that Trump has unleashed against this country using DHS and ICE hasn’t been stopped. But — a lot has. This is a slow constitutional process. And the good guys don’t always win everything, at least not right away.

This the rule of law under stress.

And helping us understand what is actually happening in those courtrooms is someone who has chosen his institution — and taken its side.

is the founder of , one of the clearest, most disciplined legal publications covering the Supreme Court and federal litigation in real time. He has spent years making court decisions legible to the public — and, when necessary, fighting for access to the very documents that allow citizens to hold the government accountable.

Today we’re discussing ICE, DHS, refugee detention, executive power, and whether the courts are holding the constitutional line.

Because if institutions fall one after another, it’s not because they failed quietly.

It’s because too few people defended them early.

Let’s talk about what it means to defend institutions. While this discussion is about the courts and the power of journalism, as you’re listening, I want for you to think about how the lessons you’ll learn here apply to you and the institution you care about most.

And then, think about how you’re going to go on offense for that institution.

🎧 Listen to the full episode above or wherever you get your podcasts.

⚖️ Follow Chris Geidner’s reporting at Law Dork

is one of the most trusted legal journalists covering the Supreme Court, federal courts, and the rule of law in real time. Through his independent publication , he breaks down complex legal developments into clear, accessible reporting that helps readers understand what’s actually happening inside the courts.

In a moment when executive power is being tested and the judiciary is under enormous pressure, independent legal journalism like Chris’s work is essential.

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If you want to understand what federal court rulings actually mean — not just the headlines — Chris’s work is one of the best places to start.

If this episode resonated with you, support independent journalism and civic institutions where you live.

Extremism and authoritarianism don’t start in Washington. They test themselves locally. They organize locally. They normalize locally.

And they can be stopped locally.

If you’re serious about acting where you live:

Start or join an Antifascist Book Club: https://veteransfightingfascism.org

Access antifascist field manuals and organizing tools: https://taskforcebutler.org

Pay attention to your local politics. Show up to city council meetings. Follow your local reporters. Don’t let hate operate quietly in your town.

This podcast, this newsletter, and are now my full-time focus.

Last month I stepped into an unpaid role as President of VALOR Media Network, and On Offense is now my primary source of income.

If you appreciate what I do and want to help me keep this work going, please consider becoming a paid subscriber.

Your support sustains this work and helps provide for my family while I build this platform.

No one else is coming to save your town.

But you can defend it.

Let’s go on offense.

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On February 17, the Department of Veterans Affairs quietly issued an interim final rule that would have allowed disability ratings to be lowered if a veteran’s medication improved their symptoms.

Nine days later, the rule is gone.

Not paused.
Not suspended.
Not “under review.”

Rescinded.

The VA has officially withdrawn the rule and restored the prior regulato…

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Not normal barking. The kind of frantic, desperate sound that tells you your dog knows there’s a threat nearby.

If you’ve ever had a dog, you know the difference.

I jumped out of bed and started moving toward the stairs. I told my wife to stay where she was and that I would tell her once I knew what was happening.

As I crept down in the dark, I looked out the window — and saw a man hiding behind the bushes at the edge of my yard. He was dressed in black tactical gear, rifle at the low ready and looking towards my house. He was carrying an AR-15 equipped with a suppressor -- a serious kit, especially in New York where these rifles have been outlawed, and suppressors are nearly impossible to legally own.

The man in the shadows raised his rifle, pointing it at my face.

I dropped to the stairs to get out of the line of sight and scrambled back up, dragging my dogs with me, terrified they’d be shot. I pulled up my security camera feed on my phone.

Just days earlier, Rolling Stone had published a profile of me with the headline: “The Neo‑Nazi Hunter Next Door.” The story went viral. It was everywhere — including in the Telegram chats I had been infiltrating for years inside white supremacist networks.

They were furious.

The piece described how Task Force Butler Institute had released a report identifying specific members of Patriot Front tied to hate crimes in Idaho, Pennsylvania, and Massachusetts. That report was being used to build civil cases, as Patriot Front was getting dragged into court around the country. Arrests were happening.

I threw my dogs into the bedroom and closed the door behind them, shouting to my wife: “Stay upstairs! We’re being swatted!”

This was what we had expected. It was only a matter of time.

The Aryan Freedom Network had just published a screenshot of my New York voter registration — including my home address — across extremist Telegram channels. “Say hello to your k*** family,” wrote Tonia Sue Berry, using an anti-Jewish slur, as she shared a family Christmas photo which included two toddlers.

Tonia Sue Berry uses the online moniker Daisy Barr — the name of one of the KKK’s first women leaders. She was furious after I publicly revealed that she had personally vetted me and shared the location of the Aryan Freedom Network’s White Unity Conference in Texas.

In chats linked to the international terrorist organization Atomwaffen, a user going by the handle Kobra401k asked for my phone number and address. An admin for the group replied and directed him to the dox shared by Daisy Barr in one of Atomwaffen’s channels.

That admin was Brandon Clint Russell, a former Florida National Guardsman and cofounder of Atomwaffen, who days after sharing my address would be arrested for planning a terrorist attack against the electrical grid. Kobra401k, who asked for my phone number and address, was Kyle Paul Reynolds. Reynolds would later be indicted in federal court on weapons charges. Unlawful possession of a firearm and ammunition by a convicted felon. He had previously been sentenced for five years for beating a senior citizen.

What drew the police to my house that night was a caller claiming to be me, saying that I had already murdered my wife, and was armed inside my house, waiting for police to try to stop me.

That is what a “death‑by‑cop” swatting attempt looks like.

Police responded as if they were walking into a potential standoff with a madman. Weapons drawn. Split‑second decisions. My family inside.

I noticed my phone had two missed calls from a number I had saved. A local detective.

Thankfully, years prior to this, I introduced myself to the department, and let them know who I am, what I do for work, and that my getting swatted was virtually inevitable. I live in a small town, so thankfully, they took this warning seriously.

That preventative action may be why my door wasn’t breached — it may be why I’m alive today.

I called back and verified with the detective that this was the situation we anticipated. He gave the order to stand down from their most aggressive posture, but told me that they still had to complete the welfare check. I would have to go outside on this freezing night with my hands up, lift my shirt to show I wasn’t armed, and talk with the police so that they could complete their welfare check.

The police I met on my porch that night were filled with even more adrenaline than I was. One officer kept repeating himself as I explained the concept of swatting to him. I could tell they were all deeply shaken. Something like this happening in our town? At the time, this was unheard of.

But this was only the beginning.

Seven months later, in September 2023, my home was targeted again — this time in connection with a Telegram channel calling itself “Appalachian Archives.” That channel had already doxxed me, taking the information that the Aryan Freedom Network had and spreading it further. The user behind the account had declared its mission was to make reporting on extremism “dangerous.” And after the second swatting attempt, it posted audio of the call online like it was a trophy.

This wasn’t random harassment. “Kristofer Goldsmith was only the beginning,” they wrote in a threat to other researchers and journalists.

Appalachian Archives quickly escalated — from doxxing journalists and encouraging harassment campaigns, to posting direct threats, and even showing up at a reporter’s home with an allied neo-Nazi gang, the Tennessee Active Club, to take a series of propaganda photos. They stood outside Raw Story’s Jordan Greene’s house burning road flares with a sign that said “Freedom of the Press is not Freedom from Consequence.”

Then Appalachian Archives and the Tennessee Active Club started posting photos with Gabrielle Hanson, a mayoral candidate in Franklin, Tennessee. Not to intimidate her — but because they were interviewing her, endorsing her, and acting as security at her campaign events.

It wasn’t until August 2024 that the person — or one of the people — behind the Appalachian Archives account was hit with federal charges. One day after Kai Liam Nix was publicly identified in The New Yorker in an article titled Infiltrating the Far Right, with help from researcher Jeff Tischauer at the SPLC.

The person behind that channel — was a member of Patriot Front. He was charged with firearms trafficking and lying on a federal security clearance form. He wasn’t just some anonymous troll in a basement.

He was an active-duty soldier with the 82nd Airborne out of Fort Bragg, North Carolina.

A man threatening journalists, posting recordings of swatting calls, and working with a neo-Nazi crew to support a MAGA republican mayoral candidate in Tennessee — was being paid by and trained to fight with American tax dollars.

He pled guilty in September 2025, and his sentencing has since been continued, extending the timeline of accountability. It’s a case that seems to keep facing unusual delays, and my suspicion is that it’s because he’s become a cooperating witness for the government against Patriot Front.

Brandon Clint Russell was found guilty on charges of terrorism and will be behind bars for a long while. Kyle Paul Reynolds is out on $10,000 bail, living in Rhode Island, and a federal court has granted him permission to travel to Massachusetts for work and medical appointments. Tonia Sue Berry told journalists last year that she’s continuing to grow her organization. None, to this day have been charged for any doxing, swatting, or threats against me or any other journalist. The federal government rarely prosecutes these crimes, even though they can be deadly.

Extremism doesn’t just live online.

It doesn’t stay in chat rooms.

It lives in human beings, who work to harass, intimidate, and cause violence against truth-tellers.

The point is deterrence.

If you can make reporting dangerous — the way Kai Liam Nix tried to — you can slow it down. If you can make investigators fear for their families’ safety, maybe they’ll quit. If you can make local journalists feel isolated, you can operate in the dark.

But that only works if no one connects the dots.

That’s where local investigative journalism, and the antifascist researchers who provide tips to journalists, becomes a firewall.

Today’s guest is of NewsChannel 5 Nashville — one of the most relentless investigative reporters in the country. Phil has tracked extremist networks, exposed corruption, and followed the money and the lies when others were content to look away. He was targeted by Appalachian Archives, Kai Liam Nix, who attempted to blackmail him into adjusting his reporting. But Phil never backed down.

In this episode, we’re going to talk about how these intimidation ecosystems actually function, and what we can do about it.

How does a local journalist, or anyone working with their identity known to the public, work to expose extremism in their hometown? Why does federal accountability move slowly — and why does local journalism so often move first?

This isn’t just about what happened to me.

It’s about how escalation works.

It’s about how extremism tests the boundaries of our institutions.

And it’s about why journalism — real journalism — is one of the last lines of defense we have.

Because democracy is worth going on offense for.

🎧 Listen to the full episode above or wherever you get your podcasts.

📰 Read and subscribe to ’ Hate Comes to Main Street:

Hate Comes to Main Street

Examining the influence of white supremacists, neo-Nazis, Christian nationalists, and QAnon conspiracy theorists on Main Street America.

By Phil Williams

If this episode resonated with you, support local investigative journalism — not just in Nashville, but in your own community.

Extremist movements don’t start in Washington. They test themselves in towns. They recruit locally. They normalize locally.

And they can be stopped locally.

If you’re serious about acting where you live:

Start or join an Antifascist Book Club: https://veteransfightingfascism.org

Access antifascist field manuals and organizing tools: https://taskforcebutler.org

This podcast, this newsletter, and are now my full-time focus.

This month I stepped into an unpaid role as President of VALOR Media Network, and On Offense is now my primary source of income.

If you appreciate what I do and want to help me keep this up, please consider becoming a paid subscriber.

Your support sustains this work and helps provide for my family while I build this platform.

No one else is coming to save your town.

But you can defend it.

Let’s go on offense.

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Join me in Minneapolis on March 6 to honor Alex Pretti & Renée Good, and to provide meaningful support to the communities that they died defending.

Dropkick Murphys will headline a free memorial concert and fundraiser near Eat Street, honoring the lives of Alex Pretti and Renée Good. The event will take place near the site that has become a focal point f…

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UPDATE — February 19, 2026 (Evening):

After significant public backlash from veterans, VSOs, members of Congress, and thousands of concerned citizens, VA Secretary Doug Collins announced that the Department is halting enforcement of the interim final rule titled “Evaluative Rating: Impact of Medication.”

This is a direct response to public pressure.

However:

• The rule has not been withdrawn.

• The rule has not been rescinded.

• The rule has not been formally appealed.

• The VA is continuing to collect public comments.

• The rule could be reinstated at any time.

In other words: enforcement is paused — the fight is not over.

The original analysis and call to action below remain relevant.

The Trump Administration has issued an interim final rule that changes how the Department of Veterans Affairs evaluates disability compensation.

It took effect immediately.

And if it stands, it could fundamentally alter how veterans are rated for service-connected disabilities — especially those of us who rely on medication to function.

But this isn’t just a veterans’ issue. It’s a question of whether the country keeps its promises to the people it sent to war — and whether policy changes that affect millions of families can be rushed through without real public accountability.

And when one side of that equation collapses, the other often follows. That can mean housing instability, relapse, hospitalization, or worse — not just for the veteran, but for their family.

What the Rule Does

On February 17, 2026, the VA amended 38 CFR § 4.10 — the regulation that governs how functional impairment is evaluated.

The new rule states that if medication or other treatment lowers the level of disability, the rating will be based on that lowered disability level.

In plain terms:

If your medication helps you function, the VA will rate you based on how you appear while medicated — not on the underlying severity of your service-connected condition.

This directly overturns recent court rulings, including the U.S. Court of Appeals for Veterans Claims decision in Ingram v. Collins, which required VA to evaluate how disabling a condition is without the masking effects of medication.

The administration justified the move by claiming the court’s decision could increase costs and require hundreds of thousands of claims to be readjudicated.

So they invoked “good cause” and skipped normal rulemaking.

That alone should concern every veteran.

What This Means for Someone Like Me

I have severe post-traumatic stress disorder.

My life ebbs and flows with symptoms.

On one side of that reality: I have attempted to take my own life. That volatility is the point. I have been unemployable for long stretches. I have had months where getting out of bed felt impossible.

On the other side: I graduated from an Ivy League university. I run nonprofits. I own a small business. I am publicly visible and professionally active.

What this rule does is allow the VA to look at the “good side” of a veteran’s life — the periods when medication is working, when symptoms are managed — and treat that as proof that the underlying disability no longer warrants the same level of compensation.

But PTSD doesn’t work like that.

When I go through a months-long period of being overwhelmed by symptoms, I don’t have the wherewithal to fight the VA. I’ve tried.

The last time I went through one of those periods, I sought an increase in my disability rating because I was effectively unemployable for months. I was unsuccessful. And eventually, I gave up — because when you have PTSD, that’s what happens. You run out of fight.

The disability payments I receive from the VA provide stability — they are the difference between stability and collapse. Financial stability. The kind that keeps me paying my mortgage when symptoms spiral. The kind that ensures that when I cannot function at full capacity, I do not end up on the street.

This rule threatens that stability — not just for me, but for millions of veterans whose conditions fluctuate, whose symptoms are episodic, whose “good days” mask the severity of their worst ones.

The Incentive Structure This Creates

Under this rule, veterans with conditions like PTSD, chronic pain, traumatic brain injury, or toxic exposure-related illnesses could be evaluated based on how they present on medication.

That creates a dangerous incentive structure.

If improvement on medication can reduce compensation, some veterans will fear treatment compliance could cost them financial stability.

We should never design a system where veterans have to choose between managing their health and protecting their benefits.

That’s not veteran-centric. That’s a perverse incentive.

The Process Should Concern You Too

This rule was issued as an interim final rule using “good cause” authority — meaning it bypassed the typical proposed rule and full public comment process before taking effect.

We’ve seen this playbook before.

We know how this administration handles public input.

When the administration proposed banning abortion care at the VA for women veterans and dependents, tens of thousands of veterans and military families submitted comments in opposition. It didn’t matter. The rule moved forward anyway, and they rushed out a new opinion by the White House Office of Legal Counsel that effectively put the rule in place immediately while everyone was celebrating the holidays in December.

Now we’re seeing another expedited process — this time affecting disability compensation itself.

If you have a disability rating, you should understand: that rating could be at risk when you come up for reevaluation.

Why the Public Comment Period Still Matters

Even though the rule is already in effect, the VA must accept public comments through April 20, 2026.

Agencies are legally required to respond to substantive comments. Personalized, well-reasoned comments help build the administrative record — and that record matters in congressional oversight and legal challenges.

Silence will be interpreted as consent.

We cannot afford silence.

How to Submit a Comment Opposing This Rule

Deadline: April 20, 2026

1. Go to: https://www.federalregister.gov/documents/2026/02/17/2026-03068/evaluative-rating-impact-of-medication#open-comment

2. Write your comment in your own words.

Saying this again here for emphasis: I want to urge you to use your own words. Do not copy and paste someone else’s words.

The government weighs unique, substantive comments more heavily than identical form letters.

What Makes an Effective Comment

Strong comments usually include:

• Your status (veteran, caregiver, clinician, VSO representative, family member)
• How disability compensation affects your stability and survival
• Why medication compliance should not reduce earned compensation
• Concerns about fluctuating or episodic conditions
• A specific recommendation (withdraw the rule, reopen full notice-and-comment, clarify protections for existing ratings)

If you’re a veteran who relies on medication to function — your voice is critical.

If you’re not a veteran but care about how this country treats those who served — your voice is critical too.

If you’ve ever had a period where symptoms made employment impossible — your voice is critical.

If you depend on your disability payments to remain housed and stable — your voice is critical.

This Is Bigger Than One Rule

Veterans’ benefits were built on a simple principle:

This is about whether disabled veterans can rely on the promises made to them.

If your service caused lasting harm, the nation compensates that harm.

Not the illusion of improvement.
Not the best-case day.
Not the medicated snapshot.

The real impairment.

We cannot allow the Trump Administration to act unopposed.

If the VA is going to change how disability is measured, they should expect veterans and the Americans who care about them to respond.

If you’re a veteran with a disability rating, now is the time to speak up.

If you’re a family member, caregiver, advocate, or simply someone who believes the country should honor its commitments, your voice matters too.

Public pressure doesn’t just come from those directly affected. It comes from communities that refuse to look away.

Democracy is worth going on offense for.

Let’s go on offense.

UPDATE: What This Means Now

Secretary Collins says the rule will not be enforced “at any time in the future.”

But notice what he did not say:

• He did not say the rule is withdrawn.

• He did not say it will be appealed.

• He did not say the VA accepts the court’s decision in Ingram v. Collins.

Instead, the rule remains published, and the VA continues to collect comments.

That suggests one of three possibilities:

1. The Department is buying time.

2. They are testing political resistance.

3. They are leaving the door open for reinstatement later.

Public pressure clearly worked.

Now sustained oversight is required.

If anything, this proves the point: speaking up matters.

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