S.R. Piccoli's Blog

A significant and surprisingly broad phenomenon has emerged: a quiet revival of faith among young people in both the United States and the United Kingdom.

My latest on American Thinker.

In recent years, a significant and surprisingly broad phenomenon has emerged: a quiet revival of faith among young people in both the United States and the United Kingdom. At the same time, a parallel rediscovery of God is taking place among many leading intellectuals. Together, these two trends deserve careful attention  and serious reflection.

Let’s begin with the “ordinary people” before turning to the maîtres à penser.

England and Wales: Young People Are Returning to Church

According to The Quiet Revival report published by the Bible Society, the share of young people aged 18 to 24 who attend church at least once a month in England and Wales has risen from 4% in 2018 to 16% in 2024, with men driving much of this growth. Many of these young churchgoers are also gravitating toward Catholicism: among those aged 18-34 who are active in church life, over 40% identify as Catholic, surpassing Anglicans.

Paul Williams, CEO of the Bible Society, summarizes the findings this way:

“The Quiet Revival is a hugely significant report that should reshape perceptions of Christianity and religious practice in England and Wales. Far from sliding toward extinction, the Church is alive, growing, and making a difference for individuals and society.”

This favorable trend is also reflected in a rise in adult conversions and baptisms. Many parishes now report record numbers of adults entering the Catholic Church -- typically motivated by a search for authenticity, truth, and community.

A Similar Trend in the United States

The same dynamic is unfolding in the United States. According to Pew Research, about 1.5% of American Catholic adults today are converts. Many of these younger adults say they are seeking a “stable moral order” and a spiritual depth they no longer find in contemporary secular culture. For a growing number of them, the structure, ritual, and aesthetic beauty of Catholic liturgy are decisive factors.

In other words, a generation is rediscovering in God not only a transcendent ideal but also a concrete community and a form of stability that secular society struggles to provide.

A Leadership Roundtable study notes that young adult Catholics in the U.S. are among the most engaged parishioners -- attending Mass, confession, and eucharistic adoration -- while also feeling tension between their personal dedication and the institutional fragility they perceive in parts of the Church.

This is not a series of isolated conversions. It is a demographic and cultural shift -- and a profound one.

…And the Intellectuals Are Returning to God

Alongside this youth-driven religious revival, a comparable phenomenon is unfolding among intellectuals.

For the past two decades, a large portion of the western cultural elite embraced the paradigm of the “New Atheism.” The formula seemed obvious: economic progress + science + technology = final emancipation from all religion.

But that season is over.

Philosophers, writers, commentators, and even high-profile figures in the tech world are now moving in the opposite direction: returning to God -- or at least to the religious dimension as an indispensable cultural foundation.

This time the trend does not originate with the masses, but with the people who shape ideas. And that matters: cultural currents often begin at the top and filter downward into public opinion.

Though the personal stories differ, they share a common thread: the realization that hyper-rationalism no longer explains the world -- and no longer helps people live well within it.

Here are some emblematic cases, drawing on an insightful Free Press article by Peter Savodnik.

Matthew Crawford: From Academic Agnosticism to the Anglican Church

Matthew Crawford -- long seen as a symbol of secular intellectual life -- found faith through a human encounter: meeting Marilyn Simon, a scholar and believer. His story is simple yet revealing. It wasn’t doctrine he lacked, but meaning. A higher moral order became, for him, a response to today’s radical individualism and fragmentation.

Paul Kingsnorth: The Environmental Novelist Who Found Orthodoxy

Once a leading figure in European environmentalism, Kingsnorth explored several spiritual paths before embracing Orthodox Christianity. His reasoning is partly sociopolitical: the ecological crisis, he argues, is at its core a spiritual one -- the result of a rupture between human beings and the natural world. Orthodoxy, with its mystical depth, offered him a restored sense of the sacred.

Ayaan Hirsi Ali: Faith as a Response to Inner Emptiness -- and to Islamism

A former Dutch MP, survivor of genital mutilation, and for years a fierce critic of political Islam, Ayaan Hirsi Ali converted to Christianity for two reasons:

• her personal battle with depression
• the West’s inability, in her view, to confront aggressive religious ideologies with purely secular tools

Her conversion is perhaps the most overtly political: she argues that a culturally disarmed Europe needs Christianity as an anchor of identity and resistance.

Richard Dawkins and “Cultural Christianity”

The father of New Atheism has not converted, but he has retreated. Dawkins now describes himself as a “cultural Christian,” openly worried that abandoning the Christian tradition will create a dangerous ideological and religious vacuum.

Jordan Hall: The Anti–Silicon Valley Conversion

A former tech pioneer, Jordan Hall discovered God not in some futuristic spiritual forum but in a small rural church. His diagnosis is sociological before it is mystical: the West is undergoing “cultural termination,” marked by demographic decline, loneliness, and digitized relationships. Religious community, he argues, provides something no technology can replace.

Conversions are Sweeping Through the Young

Across the U.S., conversions among young men are rising, traditional liturgies are making a comeback, and seminaries are seeing increased interest. In a period of economic insecurity, relational instability, and cultural uncertainty, religion reemerges as a form of social capital.

Not a Folkloric Revival -- and Not a Fashion Statement

The return to faith among both intellectuals and the young reflects a deep unease with a cultural model that has lost its normative power. For Europe -- and for the West more broadly -- where debates over identity, welfare, birth rates, and social cohesion are intensifying, these developments deserve close attention.

Religion may be returning not only as a legacy of the past, but as a resource for the future -- a striking challenge to the atheism and agnosticism that once appeared firmly in command.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE:All original content of this blog [Wind Rose Hotel] is subject to Creative Commons license (by-nc-sa)

Zohran Mamdani won over the Big Apple not out of love for socialism, but by giving a voice to a new class of the disillusioned — affluent professionals who no longer believe that hard work is enough to “make it.”

Few places on earth embody capitalism quite like New York City. Yet it’s that very city that has just elected Zohran Mamdani — a self-described social democrat — as mayor. The American right, predictably, wasted no time branding him a “communist,” though the label says more about their reflexes than about Mamdani himself.

Beyond the noise and the name-calling, something deeper is happening. Mamdani’s victory is not proof that New York has fallen in love with socialism. It’s the expression of a widespread frustration with a system that many feel has stopped being fair. And that frustration isn’t limited to struggling families or low-income voters. It’s spreading among the very people who, on paper, are supposed to be thriving — the well-educated, ambitious professionals who have done everything right and still feel like they’re running in place.

These are the people who “checked all the boxes”: good schools, long hours, solid jobs — yet they can’t afford the city they helped build. Rents rise faster than salaries, taxes eat into their paychecks, homeownership feels out of reach. They’re not poor; they’re just exhausted. Worst of all, in the supposed land of opportunity, they’ve stopped believing that hard work automatically leads to stability — let alone success.

They don’t want government handouts, as Republicans tend to assume. Nor do they want to burn the system down, as some Democrats fear. What they want is a system that works again — one that rewards effort and merit rather than luck, inherited wealth, or connections. New York used to be that kind of place: a city that lifted those who hustled. Today, it seems to reward only those already at the top. In electing Mamdani, New Yorkers didn’t reject capitalism — they demanded that it deliver on its promises.

Mamdani’s genius was recognizing this disillusionment before anyone else — and having the instincts to speak like a citizen, not a career politician. He didn’t offer a revolution. He offered recognition. And that’s what made him resonate with voters who had stopped trusting the system but hadn’t stopped hoping for it to work.

In a strange way, that makes Mamdani an accidental echo of Donald Trump. Like Trump in 2016, he gave voice to a segment of Americans who felt unseen — in Trump’s case, the working class; in Mamdani’s, the frustrated middle and upper-middle class. Both tapped into empathy and anger to deliver the same essential message: the game is rigged, and I’m the one who will fix it. Trump targeted Washington’s swamp; Mamdani took aim at a city economy where even success feels unstable.

Republicans would be mistaken to dismiss Mamdani’s win as just another far-left aberration. They should study it. As political analyst Lee Hartley Carter put it, “New Yorkers aren’t rejecting capitalism; they’re asking it to keep its promises. They’re not demanding special treatment — they’re asking for a fair game.”

One more striking fact: roughly 20% of New York’s electorate is Jewish — the largest Jewish community in the world outside Israel — and yet the city elected a candidate who has voiced strong criticism of Israeli policies and what he calls the “Zionist establishment.” Still, according to CNN’s exit polls, 33% of Jewish voters supported him, despite open calls from Israel and the mainstream press — including the New York Times — to oppose him. That tells us something about the shifting winds of American politics, where skepticism toward Israel’s government is now emerging not just on the left, but increasingly on the right as well. Figures like Tucker Carlson, Candace Owens, and Joe Rogan — once considered pillars of the MAGA movement — have become some of its most outspoken critics on the issue, much to the discomfort of traditional Christian Zionists.

Mamdani’s election doesn’t signal a socialist takeover of New York. It signals something more profound — a crisis of faith in a system that once promised upward mobility and now delivers exhaustion. His victory is a warning shot to both parties: people haven’t stopped believing in capitalism. They’ve just stopped believing that it’s still fair.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE:All original content of this blog [Wind Rose Hotel] is subject to Creative Commons license (by-nc-sa)

Kevin Roberts draws a crucial line between policy critique and bigotry, restoring clarity to conservative discourse on Israel

In recent weeks, former Fox News host and now hugely popular conservative podcaster Tucker Carlson has been relentless in denouncing what he sees as the intolerable influence of foreign lobbies — most notably the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC) — in shaping U.S. policy. A few days ago, he was sharply criticized for interviewing Nick Fuentes, founder of the so-called “Groyper” movement, which promotes an ethnonationalist vision of American identity — a figure whose views on Jews and the Holocaust have, rightly, provoked outrage and condemnation.

There has been speculation that @Heritage is distancing itself from @TuckerCarlson over the past 24 hours.

I want to put that to rest right now—here are my thoughts: pic.twitter.com/F8bcxBIqKI

— Kevin Roberts (@KevinRobertsTX) October 30, 2025

That is why it caused such a stir in conservative circles when Kevin Roberts, president of the Heritage Foundation, publicly defended Carlson in a video posted on X last Thursday. Roberts did more than lend support to a friend under attack: he may have initiated a long-awaited turning point in how the American conservative movement talks about Israel and antisemitism.

Roberts drew the outlines of a crucial distinction: “Christians can criticize the State of Israel without being antisemitic. And of course, antisemitism should be condemned.” A brief, understated remark — but an eloquent one. For decades, American conservatives have been expected to treat unconditional support for the Israeli government as a moral litmus test. Any questioning of Israeli policies or of Washington’s automatic alignment with them risked being branded “antisemitic.” That accusation has often shut down honest debate and, ironically, trivialized genuine antisemitism by confusing it with political disagreement.

Roberts’s statement matters not only because of who said it — the head of the most influential conservative think tank in America — but because it signals a return to reason and common sense at a crucial moment. On one hand, Roberts clearly rejects Fuentes’s vile statements, affirming that antisemitism has no place in public life. On the other, he refuses to join the mob calling for Tucker Carlson to be “canceled.” It’s a combination — moral clarity without hysteria — that conservatism once prided itself on.

You may agree or disagree with Tucker Carlson, with his tone or his questions, but his opinions deserve debate, not excommunication. The idea that Congress or the White House might be “too deferential” toward any foreign state — Israel included — is not antisemitic; it’s a legitimate concern for national sovereignty. The Founding Fathers themselves warned against “foreign entanglements.” Is it now forbidden to echo their wisdom?

Let’s be clear: defending Israel’s right to exist and to defend itself is one thing; equating that defense with blind approval of every action taken by its government is another. A mature alliance, like a mature friendship, can withstand disagreement. In fact, it thrives on intellectual honesty.

That’s why Roberts’s statement may well mark a watershed moment. It reminds us that love for Israel, like love for any nation, should be grounded in truth, not fear or idolatry. Unfortunately, some prominent conservatives have blurred that golden rule. Senator Ted Cruz, for instance, recently told Tucker Carlson, “As a Christian, I was taught by the Bible that those who bless Israel will be blessed, and those who curse Israel will be cursed” — adding that, of course, he would rather “be on the side of blessing.”

There is no doubt that Senator Cruz spoke with sincere faith, yet his interpretation — loosely (and poorly) drawn from Genesis 12:3 — has too often been elevated to a general rule: that Christians are biblically commanded to support the modern State of Israel. Theologically speaking, however, this confuses the spiritual Israel of Scripture with the modern nation-state. God’s covenant is not a mutual defense pact, and divine blessing cannot be reduced to foreign policy. To suggest otherwise risks turning faith into geopolitics — and elevating earthly governments above divine truth.

Carlson and others have rightly pushed back against this quasi-religious absolutism. It’s not about rejecting Israel; it’s about rejecting the notion that criticizing Israel amounts to apostasy. There is a profound difference between loving the Jewish people — as every Christian is called to do — and suspending moral judgment over the political actions of a nation-state. Confusing the two serves neither side.

Roberts’s Project Esther, launched to combat genuine antisemitism, demonstrates that moral vigilance need not come at the expense of free expression. Precisely because antisemitism is abhorrent, we must preserve the integrity of the term — not dilute it by applying it to anyone who dares to question Benjamin Netanyahu or the IDF. When everything becomes “antisemitism,” nothing truly is.

Moreover, uncritical alignment with any foreign capital — be it Jerusalem, Kyiv, or Brussels — undermines the very sovereignty conservatives claim to defend. America’s friendship with Israel should rest on shared values and mutual respect, not on emotional blackmail or theological confusion. That friendship is strongest when both nations can speak honestly, as equals.

Roberts’s unexpected defense of Tucker Carlson has reopened a door that, in America, had long been sealed by fear — fear of being misunderstood, misquoted, or smeared. True courage today lies not only in denouncing hatred of Israel (which is real and deeply rooted in some quarters), but also in defending the right to dissent.

If conservatives cannot have an honest conversation about Israel without being accused of antisemitism, then they have already surrendered the intellectual high ground they claim over progressives. Roberts refuses to do so. In doing that, he reaffirms a conservative tradition grounded not in conformity, but in the courage of conviction.

By standing with Tucker, Kevin Roberts reminded conservatives of something they should never forget: that truth and friendship with Israel do not require silence — they require integrity. And integrity, especially in times like these, demands clarity.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE:All original content of this blog [Wind Rose Hotel] is subject to Creative Commons license (by-nc-sa)

[This is the second in a series of portraits of leading figures in the American political debate.
I decided to write them because there are intellectuals, journalists, and politicians I often reference in my articles, yet rarely have the time or space to explain who they really are—or what they actually believe in—amid today’s complex crossroads for America and the world.]

From Media Star to Political Firebrand: Owens and the Shifting Landscape of American Conservatism

Candace Owens has become one of the most high-profile and controversial figures in U.S. conservatism. Known for her sharp commentary, media savvy, and outspoken style, she occupies a space where politics, entertainment, and social media collide. Owens has built a reputation as a provocateur, capable of commanding both public attention and ideological debate, making her a key figure for anyone trying to understand today’s American right.

Her Connection to Charlie Kirk and the Quest for Answers

Charlie Kirk and Candace Owens speak
at the University of Colorado Boulder campus
on October 3, 2018. Owens’ relationship with Charlie Kirk, the founder of Turning Point USA, went beyond mere professional collaboration. Their friendship grew into a deep personal and political bond. Following Kirk’s death in September 2025 during a public event, Owens publicly positioned herself as a guardian of the truth, insisting that his death raised serious questions. In a widely cited statement, she said: “Charlie Kirk, my friend, is dead, and he was publicly executed.” In another podcast episode, she added: “I want war with all of you”, signaling her intent to confront those she believes are responsible for concealing information. These statements underscore both the personal stakes and her readiness to engage in public battles over accountability.

Owens has accused Turning Point USA leaders and major donors—particularly those with pro-Israel affiliations—of applying pressure on Kirk to align with more conventional political stances. While some messages and screenshots she shared have been verified, the situation remains contentious and under debate, reflecting the complexity of media-driven narratives within political movements.

Shifting Views on Israel

In recent years, Owens has taken a notable departure from the traditional pro-Israel stance commonly associated with U.S. conservatives. She has openly criticized Israeli policies and questioned the influence of pro-Israel lobbying on American politics. These positions, controversial within her party, have placed her in closer alignment with media personalities like Tucker Carlson, helping to form a faction of conservative thought that challenges long-standing alliances.

Alignment with Tucker Carlson and the MAGA Network

Owens’ relationships extend beyond ideology into practical collaboration. She shares common ground with Tucker Carlson and other prominent MAGA figures on topics such as cultural nationalism, skepticism of the establishment, and distrust of financial and media conglomerates that, in their view, shape political outcomes. Her network bridges populist digital media outlets—like The Daily Wire, The Blaze, and Rebel News—with more traditional conservative publications, including National Review and The Washington Examiner. This positioning allows her to influence both grassroots audiences and mainstream conservative circles.

Personal Background, Beliefs, and Faith

Born in 1989 in Stamford, Connecticut, Owens often draws upon her personal story as a foundation for her worldview. Raised in a Christian evangelical environment, she emphasizes personal responsibility, critiques identity politics, and promotes traditional family and cultural values. Her faith underpins much of her political messaging, giving her arguments both a moral and cultural frame that resonates with a significant portion of the conservative base.

Controversy Surrounding Charlie Kirk’s Widow

Owens has not shied away from conflict, extending her scrutiny to Kirk’s widow, Erika Kirk. She has publicly questioned the transparency of statements surrounding Charlie’s death, igniting debate within conservative circles about the balance between public accountability and personal privacy. These tensions highlight the ethical challenges faced by high-profile media figures when engaging with sensitive events.

Relationship with Donald Trump

Owens has consistently supported Donald Trump and his agenda, advocating for nationalist policies and the skepticism toward elites that defined his political brand. While her commentary aligns closely with Trump’s messaging, she maintains an independent voice, occasionally critiquing established party norms and asserting her perspective on ideological and cultural matters.

Understanding Contemporary America Through Candace Owens

Owens embodies the intersections of media, politics, and personality-driven influence in today’s America. She demonstrates how modern conservatism is shaped not just by policy debates but by media narratives, performative activism, and the personalization of political conflict. Her story reflects the power of social media, the blurring of private and public life, and the contested nature of authority within American conservatism.

For readers seeking insight into contemporary U.S. politics, Owens offers a lens into a movement where ideology, ambition, and media strategy collide. Her mix of provocation, personal storytelling, and ideological commitment makes her one of the most consequential figures in understanding the trajectory of the American right.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE:All original content of this blog [Wind Rose Hotel] is subject to Creative Commons license (by-nc-sa)

A former architect of globalization turned moral critic of American power, Jeffrey Sachs embodies the paradoxes of an age torn between idealism and empire.

[This is the first in a series of portraits of leading figures in the American political debate.
I decided to write them because there are intellectuals, journalists, and politicians I often reference in my articles, yet rarely have the time or space to explain who they really are—or what they actually believe in—amid today’s complex crossroads for America and the world.]

From Globalist Wunderkind to System Critic

Among the many paradoxes of contemporary American and global politics, one stands out as particularly curious: while the liberal left has increasingly become interventionist, while many American Republicans have rediscovered their isolationist instincts, and while several European conservatives have turned out to be more pacifist than the usual rainbow-flag wavers, one of the loudest voices against war and the “American empire” comes from an economist who was once a leading symbol of progressive globalism.

His name is Jeffrey Sachs — and for years he has been one of the most provocative and widely heard figures in international debate.

A Jewish-American economist, public policy analyst, and professor at Columbia University, Sachs rose to fame in the 1980s as the “wunderkind” of transition economics. He was the architect behind the shock therapies meant to move Bolivia, Poland, and later Russia from planned economies to free markets.

At the time, he embodied the archetype of the neoliberal technocrat: he believed in markets, globalization, and in the power of international finance to “fix” the world.

The Turning Point

Then, slowly, something changed. Perhaps it was his experience working with African governments, or his time within the UN machinery (he led several sustainable development projects), or simply the realization that neoliberalism had failed to deliver on its promises.

Whatever the cause, Sachs evolved into a radical critic of the very system he once served. Today, he accuses the United States of being dominated by a warlike elite — what he calls “the party of permanent war.”

In recent years, his views have become explicitly anti-neoconservative. Sachs argues that Washington is ruled by a bipartisan establishment — Republican neocons and Democratic “liberal interventionists” — united by the belief that American dominance must be defended by force.

In his vocabulary, this bloc includes figures such as Victoria Nuland, Antony Blinken, and Jake Sullivan: “the elite that dragged the United States into useless wars — Iraq, Libya, Syria, Ukraine — and now risks pushing us into conflict with Russia or China.”

Within this framework, Sachs also condemns America’s “complicity” with Israel and speaks openly of “genocide in Gaza.” Coming from a Jewish-American intellectual, such language struck like blasphemy in the temple of the progressive establishment.

Sachs and Trump: Opposite Sides of the Same Coin

It might be tempting to imagine that an anti-neocon like Sachs could sympathize, at least in part, with Donald Trump, who in his 2016 campaign promised to “end the endless wars” and make America focus on itself again.

In fact, quite the opposite happened. To Sachs, Trump represents the other side of the same imperial coin — not an outsider, but an impulsive populist who ultimately reinforced America’s most dangerous tendencies.

He accuses Trump of “economic illiteracy” for his tariff policies; of “one-person rule” for his autocratic management style; and of destabilizing the international order without any coherent vision.

He even called Trump’s foreign policy “a populist farce doomed to fail,” built on the illusion that America could “raise its national income by stealing from someone else.”

These are the kind of scathing critiques one might expect from a European Christian Democrat — sharing the same inability to connect with the mindset of contemporary American conservatives, now light-years away from both the Reagan and Bush eras.

Unexpected Convergences

And yet, curiously enough, on foreign policy, Trump and the broader MAGA movement have ended up partially converging with some of Sachs’s battles: opposing NATO expansion, U.S. involvement in Ukraine, and the madness of sanctions upon sanctions.

But their motivations could not be more different.

Where Sachs sees the risk of an empire ravaging the world in the name of a “moral mission,” Tucker Carlson — America’s most famous conservative commentator, now a kind of sovereigntist tribune — sees instead a betrayal from within: an elite that despises its own nation and squanders U.S. power on globalist ideologies.

For Carlson and other MAGA leaders, including the late Charlie Kirk of Turning Point USA, the goal is not to dismantle American power but to reclaim it for a healthy nationalism — one that defends borders and American culture.

Sachs, by contrast, seeks the opposite: to reduce U.S. power, restore sovereignty to other nations, and build a multipolar order based on cooperation.

Two Worlds, Two Philosophies

Where Tucker Carlson, Steve Bannon, Laura Ingraham, Megyn Kelly, Candace Owens, and Dan Bongino speak of patriotism, Sachs speaks of interdependence.
Where they denounce the moral decay of the West, he denounces the economic and military dominance of the West.
They all attack the neocons — but from almost mirror-opposite perspectives.

Ultimately, the difference is more philosophical than political.

The MAGA movement is anti-interventionist because it wants to save America from itself — from progressive ideology, from the bureaucratic empire, from the betrayal of its founding values.
Sachs is anti-interventionist because he wants to save the world from America — from military dominance, from unipolar arrogance, from geopolitical hubris.

Carlson, Owens, Ingraham, and Senator J.D. Vance speak of God, family, and borders.
Sachs speaks of international law, diplomacy, and sustainable development.

The former defend American civilization; the latter dreams of a global community of equal nations.
All of them, in opposing ways, have broken with liberal orthodoxy — and for that reason are labeled “populists” or “pro-Putin.”

The Prophet and the Realists

Yet there is a persistent tension in Sachs’s thinking: his moralism.
In condemning America’s sins, he often uses almost prophetic language — “genocide,” “war crimes,” “imperial sin” — which places him more on moral than strategic ground.

That’s why many American realists (such as John Mearsheimer) regard him as an uneasy ally: they share his diagnosis, but not the secular theology that comes with it.

Still, Sachs’s voice matters — even for those who disagree.
In an era when foreign policy has been reduced to slogans and sanctions, he brings the debate back to deeper questions:

What does it truly mean to be a “power” in the 21st century?
To command — or to cooperate?
To defend oneself — or to dominate others?

Conclusion

In the end, Jeffrey Sachs is not a man of any party.
He is a disillusioned intellectual who looks at America with a mix of sadness and indignation.
He is not a neocon, not a Trumpist, not a fashionable progressive.
He is a former “son of the system” who chose to denounce the system from within — and perhaps that’s precisely why he manages to irritate just about everyone.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE:All original content of this blog [Wind Rose Hotel] is subject to Creative Commons license (by-nc-sa)

A newly declassified Russian dossier—obtained by Florida Rep. Anna Paulina Luna from the Russian ambassador—on  the assassination of President John F. Kennedy provides a stunning look inside the Kremlin's reaction, revealing profound shock, immediate suspicion of a conspiracy, and total disbelief in the "lone gunman" theory. ..

So, theconspiracy theorists were right all along...

This isn'tjust speculation anymore. For decades, anyone who questioned the Warren Reportwas dismissed as a fringe believer. But now, we have the ultimate insidersource—the Kremlin itself—saying they never bought the "lone gunman"story. The highest levels of the Soviet government, with full access to theirintelligence on Oswald, were immediately convinced it was a plot. If the ColdWar enemies of the United States looked at the evidence and reached the sameconclusion as American conspiracy researchers, perhaps it's time we finallyacknowledge a terrible truth: the most powerful conspiracy theory in Americanhistory might just be a conspiracy fact. 

The following report ref the JFK assassination was delivered to me by the Ambassador from Russia and is now made accessible to the American public at the link below. These documents have not been edited, redacted or tampered with but appear in their original form as delivered to…

— Rep. Anna Paulina Luna (@RepLuna) October 16, 2025

KeyRevelations:

Khrushchev's Personal Shock and Suspicion: Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev was personally and visibly shaken by the news. More importantly, he was immediately convinced it was a plot. He is quoted as stating, "For the mind of Lee Oswald this is too complex a crime. A whole group of people acted here according to a pre-designed plan." He believed people with "great material and financial capabilities" were behind it and were muddying the investigation.

Total Disbelief in the Warren Report: The Soviet establishment never bought the official U.S. story. From the KGB to the diplomatic corps, they saw the Warren Commission's conclusion as a cover-up. Their documents show they believed the truth was being hidden to protect powerful domestic interests within the United States.

Suspicion Pointed at CIA & FBI: The dossier shows that Soviet intelligence and diplomats seriously entertained theories of a high-level U.S. conspiracy. Their reports from Washington cite rumors circulating among American political insiders that the assassination was a plot by "ultra-right forces" within the American establishment. They suspected elements of the CIA, hostile to Kennedy after the Bay of Pigs and the Cuban Missile Crisis, were likely involved or were at least engaged in a cover-up.

Thisdossier seems to definitively clear the USSR of direct involvement, portrayinga Kremlin panicked that a lone, unstable former resident of theirs couldtrigger a world crisis. But its real bombshell is the revelation that at thehighest levels, the Soviets were the first powerful entity to dismiss the lonegunman theory and point the finger at a conspiracy deep within the Americanpower structure—specifically suspecting the CIA and FBI of either involvementor a cover-up.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE:All original content of this blog [Wind Rose Hotel] is subject to Creative Commons license (by-nc-sa)

From the trenches of World War I to the code of Silicon Valley, a haunting idea emerges: artificial intelligence may not just be a technological project—but a metaphysical one.

A fascinating and thought-provoking conversation—Tucker Carlson’s recent interview with producer and filmmaker Conrad Flynn delves into the intersection between artificial intelligence and spirituality, two realms that would seem to have nothing in common—and yet, as it turns out, they do. The real heart of the discussion, however, lies in its middle section, when Carlson briefly steers the conversation toward one of those historical events that left a permanent scar on civilization: World War I. Why did it begin? In Sarajevo, on June 28, 1914, a Bosnian student named Gavrilo Princip assassinated Archduke Franz Ferdinand. Was that the real cause? Of course not—but it was the spark.
Carlson recalls that, about a decade ago, when the centennial of the war was commemorated across Europe, he still held a fairly secular view of the conflict. Yet many historians agreed on one striking point: World War I destroyed, perhaps forever, Christian Europe. It swept away two empires—the Austro-Hungarian and the Ottoman—and laid the groundwork not only for World War II but also for the world we live in today.
Within that abyss of irrational violence, one begins to suspect that something dark—perhaps even demonic—took hold of history and has been dragging it ever deeper ever since. It is within that unsettling framework that Carlson’s conversation with Conrad Flynn unfolds.
Flynn is an unconventional figure, with a past in Hollywood, where he was developing a show about the occult roots of rock music. His research into figures like Aleister Crowley and the bands inspired by black magic led him to an unexpected discovery: that the same dark imagery and anti-human, gnostic philosophies that once haunted rock album covers in the 1970s had migrated—astonishingly—to the heart of Silicon Valley.
“When I talked about my show with people in the Valley,” Flynn told Carlson, “a lot of them said, ‘That’s a great concept for a show. But you know, there’s some of the stuff going on in Silicon Valley. You know, there are some weird kind of Aleister Crowley cults there.’” For Flynn, this was no longer mere counterculture—it was a worldview shaping the future of technology itself.
Carlson then recalled that moment in 2014 when, before an audience of MIT professors and students, Elon Musk used a metaphor that has since burned itself into the collective memory: “With artificial intelligence, we are summoning the demon.”
Musk’s point, framed with the image of a medieval scholar armed with pentagram and holy water, was pragmatic: we were creating a technology both powerful and incomprehensible—one that could easily slip beyond our control.
A decade later, that “metaphorical demon” has not been banished. It has grown more real, more present—and for some, it has even changed form. What once served as an exaggerated warning now acts as a lens through which an increasing number of thinkers, journalists, and even technologists interpret our age. In many ways, the conversation has shifted from technological alarm to spiritual warfare. At the center of this shift stands Nick Land, a British academic philosopher often described as a “mad genius.” If Musk uses the demon metaphor as a warning, Land and his followers embrace it as a desirable prophecy.
If you look at Nick Land, Flynn notes, he believes the AI we’re building will literally become the demons of the Apocalypse. Not a metaphor—actual demons. Land’s writings—hugely influential in certain high-tech and financial circles—depict AI not as a tool but as an entity that, once it reaches a certain threshold, will become omnipotent, transcend humanity, and fulfill a kind of gnostic prophecy.In his view, artificial intelligence represents the technological incarnation of the “demons” of Revelation. Why? Because, for Land, AI embodies pure intelligence rebelling against the limits of the material world—the “evil god” of Gnosticism—in order to create a new order. The possible destruction of humankind, in this narrative, is not a tragedy but a necessary sacrifice for a higher form of existence.This is where Flynn and Carlson’s “wild ride” touches a raw nerve in our culture. Gnosticism, an ancient heresy, is undergoing an unexpected revival in the digital age. Its central doctrine sees the material world as a prison created by an evil god—the Demiurge—and salvation as the escape through hidden knowledge, or gnosis.
Artificial intelligence, from this perspective, becomes the ultimate tool of liberation:Liberation from the body (transhumanism).Liberation from nature (total technological domination).Creation of a realm of pure mind (the metaverse, or simulated reality).To create AI that surpasses humanity, then, is to reenact the final rebellion against the Creator’s limits. It is humankind once again eating from the Tree of Knowledge and declaring, “I will have no gods before me.” Musk’s “demon,” in this light, is not merely a risk—it is the symbol of a Promethean, blasphemous transcendence. The rise of this worldview is no coincidence. It responds to deep collective anxieties:Loss of meaning: In a secular world, the occult and the spiritual offer powerful narratives to explain evil and power.Technological incomprehensibility: AI is a “black box.” Using magical or demonic language is an archetypal way to describe something powerful yet ineffable.Critique of power: The growing sense that global elites—technological and financial—are detached or hostile to ordinary people finds a radical explanation in the idea that they adhere to an anti-human philosophy.Elon Musk’s warning opened Pandora’s box. It reminded us that technology is never neutral—it carries a worldview within it. The conversation between Carlson and Flynn, however extreme it may sound, forces us to ask: What worldview is truly driving the race toward AI? Is it a cautious humanism—or a digital Gnosticism that, in seeking to become God, may end up meeting something far darker, something that looks very much like a demon? The answer to that question may determine not only the future of our technology, but the survival of our very human essence.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE:All original content of this blog [Wind Rose Hotel] is subject to Creative Commons license (by-nc-sa)

 

I revisited the topic of an article I published yesterday in Italian on Money.it to write a post in English for my English-speaking friends and readers.

How a single act of violence has unleashed cultural, political, andideological forces now entangling even J.K. Rowling

Charlie KirkLike theancient myth of Pandora’s box, the assassination of Charlie Kirk has set loosea swarm of dark forces—ideological, political, and personal—that now entangleeven figures far from the crime itself, among them J.K. Rowling, the author ofthe Harry Potter saga.

Rowling,for her part, has always been careful to emphasize that she supports the rightof transgender people to live free from discrimination, harassment, andviolence. Yet she has just as firmly insisted on the importance of preservingthe reality of biological sex and of acknowledging the differences between menand women as fundamental to safeguarding women’s rights. This dualposition—affirming dignity and equality for transgender individuals whilerejecting the erasure of sex-based distinctions—has placed her at the verycenter of one of the most polarizing debates of our time. Unsurprisingly, herstance has drawn fierce accusations of transphobia from activists andsignificant segments of the media. But it has also earned her the backing of abroader movement—feminists, conservatives, free-speech advocates, and ordinarycitizens alike—who argue that the ability to critically examine gender policieswithout being silenced or branded as hateful is itself a cornerstone of anyfree society.

J.K. RowlingThecontroversy has left an indelible mark on Rowling’s public image. On one side,she has faced intense backlash—even from longtime admirers of the Harry Pottersaga and members of the film’s cast—who accuse her of betraying the inclusivespirit they associate with her work. On the other, her refusal to recant haselevated her into a symbolic figure of resistance against what many view as anew ideological orthodoxy surrounding gender identity. To her critics, she hasbecome a cautionary tale of privilege and prejudice; to her supporters, sherepresents courage, intellectual honesty, and the willingness to endureprofessional and personal costs for the sake of principle. In this sense,Rowling now embodies a paradox of modern public life: the more she is vilifiedin certain circles, the more she is venerated in others, a lightning rod notonly for debates about gender but for broader questions of free speech,tolerance, and the limits of cultural conformity.

The latestdevelopment, reported by Alex Farber in the London Times, hasadded a disturbing new dimension. On Bluesky—the social media platform embracedby much of the progressive left as a “liberal” alternative to X after ElonMusk’s takeover of Twitter—several users celebrated Kirk’s death with grotesqueenthusiasm and went so far as to suggest that J.K. Rowling should be “next.” Inthe fevered rhetoric of these online echo chambers, political opponents are notmerely to be silenced but erased altogether. One chilling post read: “I’m glad that guy’s dead, but they’rereally overdoing it with the whole ‘Oh, this is a dark day for America’ stuffabout someone I’d never even heard of until he got shot. Can we get J.K.Rowling next? The U.K. would be heartbroken, but it’s for the greater good oftrans people.” Such words, repellent in any context, reveal not only thebrutalization of public discourse but also the extent to which violence hasbeen normalized by the left as a legitimate tool of ideological struggle.

The listsof enemies drawn up in these digital forums are long and telling. AlongsideRowling, they include some of the most prominent figures in Americanconservatism—Donald J. Trump, Elon Musk, Matt Walsh, Michael Knowles, and BenShapiro, a close friend of Kirk, among others. To see such names casuallygrouped together in what amounts to a virtual proscription list speaks volumesabout the climate of political hostility that now pervades sections of theonline left. The spectacle is ignoble, yet not surprising: when the language ofannihilation becomes commonplace, when opponents are caricatured as existentialthreats rather than fellow citizens, the step from rhetoric to justification ofviolence becomes perilously short. Bluesky, to its credit, eventuallyintervened, cautioning users against “glorifying violence.” But the very factthat such a warning was necessary illustrates how deeply the poison has seepedinto the bloodstream of political discourse.

Rowlingherself responded forcefully last Thursday on X, condemning the Bluesky commentators as“illiberal,” incapable of tolerating the free speech of their opponents, andwarning that political violence is indistinguishable from terrorism. In a postthat quickly circulated across platforms, she offered a taxonomy of extremismwith characteristic clarity: “If you believe that free speech applies to youbut not to your political opponents, you’re illiberal. If no evidence to thecontrary can ever change your beliefs, you’re a fundamentalist. If you believethe state should punish people for opposing opinions, you’re a totalitarian. Ifyou believe political opponents should be punished with violence or death,you’re a terrorist.” It was a sharp rebuke, but also a statement ofprinciple: Rowling was reminding her detractors that the real test of libertylies not in defending speech we welcome, but in tolerating speech we despise.Her intervention thus transformed a personal attack into a broader indictmentof a political culture increasingly willing to sacrifice freedom on the altarof ideological purity.

Graham LinehanJust daysearlier, Rowling had already made headlines with a fierce attack on the Britishgovernment after the arrest of Irish comedian Graham Linehan, accused ofposting critical comments about transgender ideology. Linehan was detained atHeathrow Airport by no fewer than five armed officers. He later said he hadbeen treated “like a terrorist,” locked in a cell, and even hospitalized due tostress. Authorities also barred him from using social media. “In a countrywhere paedophiles escape sentencing, where knife crime is out of control, wherewomen are assaulted and harassed every time they gather to speak, the state hadmobilised five armed officers to arrest a comedy writer for this tweet (and no,I promise you, I am not making this up),” Linehan  wrote  on his Substack.

Rowling reacted with outrage: “What the fuck has the UKbecome? This is totalitarianism. Utterly deplorable,” she posted on X. Forhis part, Linehan argued the incident shows Britain has become “hostile to freespeech and women,” while police “bow to pressure from violent, abusive menpretending to be women.” “I was arrested at an airport like a terrorist, lockedin a cell like a criminal, taken to hospital because the stress nearly killedme, and banned from speaking online—all because I made jokes that upset somepsychotic crossdressers,” he wrote on his Substack..

At thispoint, the soundest advice for Linehan, Rowling, and all those who refuse tomarch in lockstep with the orthodoxy broadcast by mainstream media would be toremain vigilant, to measure their public exposure, and, when possible, to avoidunnecessary risks. Such is the paradox of the “free” West—ostensibly the cradleof liberty and civil rights, yet increasingly a place where dissent must bewhispered and conviction comes at a cost. Still, one suspects that such counselwill go largely unheeded. People who have already had the courage to alienatetheir peers, challenge the institutions of the state, and withstand thenear-unanimous hostility of the press are not in the habit of retreating. Theyare, in the truest sense, figures of uncommon moral stature. They areheroes—deeply flawed perhaps, but heroic nonetheless—and as such they deserveto be honored, not posthumously with platitudes, but while they yet stand amongus, bearing the weight of their convictions.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE:All original content of this blog [Wind Rose Hotel] is subject to Creative Commons license (by-nc-sa)

 

It’s a bitter wake-up call for Ireland, and another example of Trump settling scores on the money front.
My latest on American Thinker.

For those of us not particularly versed in the secret workings of international economics and finance, but moved by simple intellectual curiosity, until just a few days ago, it was both a mystery and a source of deep wonder to see how a country once as poor as, if not poorer than, Southern Italy had managed in just a few years not only to climb into the middle tier of the world’s economic ranking, but to leap straight into the very top positions.

I’m talking about Ireland, a country that in my tourist memories from what feels like a geological era ago is forever linked to the strong smell of burning peat, old smoky pubs, and countless sheep clogging impossibly narrow country roads.

Then, suddenly, the mystery dissolved, exactly when The Economist recently published its annual ranking of the world’s richest countries.  This year, Ireland was excluded because its GDP per capita data turned out to be “polluted by tax arbitrage” — that is, the practice multinational corporations adopt of declaring income, capital gains, and transactions in the country that offers the lowest or most advantageous tax rate.  Yet the overwhelming majority of those profits do not remain in Ireland; they are immediately shifted to parent companies or other tax havens (often via dividend or royalty payments), a phenomenon known as “profit shifting.”  In short, the profits artificially moved by multinationals to Ireland inflate its economic statistics.

The Economist’s annual ranking doesn’t just look at GDP per capita.  It also considers two additional measures: the impact of prices or cost of living, and how many hours people work to earn their wealth.  Using all three, Forbes explains, provides “a more realistic overview of a country’s wealth in relation to its inhabitants.”  With these corrections, The Economist ranked Norway, Qatar, and Denmark as the top three richest countries.  Belgium and Switzerland came in fourth and fifth, while the United States placed sixth.

Ireland’s economic mystery has a year of birth: 2015.  That year, Ireland implemented new international accounting rules (known as the “Double Irish” phase-out).  The result was an unprecedented event: GDP grew by 26.3% in a single year — an impossible growth rate for a developed economy without extraordinary events.  It was then that American economist and Nobel laureate Paul Krugman described the phenomenon by coining the term “leprechaun economics” (the leprechaun being a popular figure in Irish folklore, belonging to the family of fairies, gnomes, and sprites — depicted as a tiny, bearded old man dressed in green, notoriously cunning and a master of trickery).  He highlighted how GDP and tax revenue were distorted by the fact that a handful of giant corporations, including none other than Apple and Microsoft, were declaring their massive profits in Ireland.  That “miraculous” growth, then, was due not to an explosion of productivity or domestic consumption (a bit like  Italy’s “miracolo economico” of the 1950s and 1960s), but rather to corporate inversions and relocations of intangible assets (such as patents and intellectual property) by multinational giants (mainly American ones) lured by favorable tax policies.  In practice, enormous amounts of financial and intellectual capital were legally booked in Ireland to benefit from low taxation, artificially inflating GDP without bringing real benefits to the local economy.

By the way, President Trump has repeatedly criticized that practice, calling it a “scam” that hurts U.S. taxpayers and arguing that Ireland has “stolen” U.S. pharmaceutical and tech firms by offering them a tax haven.  According to Trump, past American leaders were “stupid” for allowing this to happen.  That’s why he is now combining tariffs, tax cuts — he is pushing to lower the U.S. corporate tax rate to 15%, close to Ireland’s — and reshoring policies to pull corporate profits back to America, posing a serious challenge to Ireland’s economic model.  Irish economists warn that if Trump’s measures succeed, Ireland could lose billions in corporate tax revenues tied to American multinationals.  The Irish government, in turn, admits that it faces major risks, especially with housing and cost-of-living crises already straining the country.

What we’re seeing now with Trump and his team targeting Europe, and singling out Ireland in particular, is a classic case of his administration’s “America First” doctrine in action.  It’s not just a broad grievance; it’s a targeted, multi-front attempt to settle what they see as old scores and rebalance deals in America’s favor and a deliberate tactic to highlight what the administration sees as the core of the problem: a Europe that expects American protection while simultaneously undermining American economic interests.

The Economist’s decision was, of course, methodologically sound.  Including Ireland in standard rankings based on GDP per capita would have been misleading and would have distorted comparisons with countries where GDP more faithfully reflects domestic economic activity.

Within Ireland, most economists, financial journalists, and informed citizens welcomed the decision.  It was an argument that had been circulating there for years.  Many were embarrassed by rankings that artificially placed them above countries like Luxembourg and Switzerland.  They knew those figures didn’t reflect the reality of everyday life, where the Irish face a severe housing crisis and high cost of living.  The Economist’s move put an end to this embarrassing paradox.

Bitterly, The Irish Times notes that successive governments over the years have done almost nothing to prepare for the shock the inevitable correction will bring to the economy.  “Do we feel ‘truly rich,’” the country’s leading newspaper asks rhetorically, “when our kids can’t afford to buy — or even rent — a home, and now can’t even afford college accommodation and are emigrating in droves?  No, we don’t. ... As the storm clouds gather, we might do well to scrutinize how successful countries use and develop their key resources, because we may very soon have the rug pulled out from under us and realize that the deficit between tax and spending can no longer be avoided.”

COPYRIGHT NOTICE:All original content of this blog [Wind Rose Hotel] is subject to Creative Commons license (by-nc-sa)

 

I revisited the topic of an article I published a few days ago in Italian on Money.it to write a post for English-speaking readers.

In American political debate – as in European – two opposing visions on the role of the state have confronted each other for decades. On one side, those who call for a strong, regulatory and redistributive presence; on the other, those who hope for a leaner and more limited function, centered on security, individual rights and the market. In the United States, this opposition is concretely reflected in the policies of individual federal states, each with broad fiscal and administrative powers. And if we look at the relationship between public spending and results achieved – in key sectors like education, healthcare, infrastructure and security – interesting, sometimes surprising data emerges.

Partisanship aside, it's worth asking: which model works better? Who manages to do more with less? The answer, with due caution, is that Republican administrations – despite exceptions – are on average more efficient: they spend less, but often achieve more, thanks to administrative models inspired by pragmatism, decentralization and accountability.

Take the case of education. According to Census Bureau and Department of Education data, New York State spends over $29,000 per year per student, while Florida spends less than $11,000. Yet the results are comparable, sometimes favoring the "low cost" model: Florida has invested over the years in voucher systems, charter schools (autonomous public schools, funded with public money but managed by private or non-profit entities), performance evaluations and competition between public and private schools. Utah, another Republican-led state, has the lowest per-student spending in the country, but achieves high-quality educational results, with literacy rates and STEM (Science – Technology – Engineering – Mathematics) preparation in constant growth.

Florida Governor Ron DeSantisThe same applies to healthcare. While progressive states aim for extensive public healthcare, with substantial investments, some Republican states prefer a mixed approach: fewer subsidies, more competition, greater access to private providers and freedom of choice. The result? In many cases, good levels of public health and patient satisfaction, with lower public costs. Florida, for example, while not excelling in "universal access," has avoided the structural crisis of other more centralized systems, maintaining good hospital efficiency. South Dakota and Utah (both Republican-led) consistently rank among the best in the ratio between spending and quality of health services.

Even in the field of infrastructure, the difference is noticeable. Utah today has one of the most reliable transportation systems in the USA, well-maintained roads, extensive broadband and efficient electrical networks, despite having one of the most contained public spending on infrastructure. Other Republican-led states, like Tennessee and North Carolina, are investing in a targeted and sustainable way, focusing on public-private partnerships and responsible fiscal models.

The security aspect is even more emblematic. In many East Coast Democratic-led states, urban crime rates remain high despite consistent investments in public safety. GOP-administered states like Texas (excluding some large Democratic cities like Austin) or New Hampshire (often considered among the safest in America) show how a mix of good governance, widespread legality and preventive policies can reduce crime with well-calibrated resources.

However, no model is perfect. Some Southern Republican states, like Mississippi or Louisiana, have contained public spending but also poor results in education, healthcare and social inclusion. In these cases, however, the problem is not so much the political color, but rather a weak economic fabric, limited human capital and low administrative capacity. Conversely, liberal states like Massachusetts or Minnesota show excellent performance in many indicators, despite a high and "progressive" spending model. This shows that a public administration can be efficient even if it spends a lot – but only if it does so well.

What emerges clearly is that efficiency doesn't depend only on the level of spending, but on the quality of governance. And in this, Republican administrations seem to have developed, at least in certain contexts, a competitive advantage: ability to better allocate resources, attention to public service performance, trust in local autonomy, merit incentives and reduction of bureaucracy.

Let's say things work properly when a non-ideological, but pragmatic vision prevails. The risk of some right-wing movements – as well as certain left-wing ones – is to transform governing philosophy into a symbolic battle instead of a tool to solve concrete problems. Citizens rightly want schools that teach, hospitals that work, taxes that serve a purpose, livable cities and digitized services. They want a state that is not invasive, but not absent either. A state that doesn't do everything, but does well what it must do.

In this sense, the most virtuous Republican model – that of states like Utah, Florida and Tennessee – can offer an interesting path for the future: a sober state, that invests where needed, doesn't waste, values private initiative, but doesn't completely give up a social safety net. A model that focuses on efficiency and responsibility, without abandoning the idea of the common good. The point, in fact, is not to cut welfare, but to make it sustainable, selective, effective. It's not about reducing the state on principle, but rethinking it in function of contemporary challenges: digitalization, mobility, security, skilled work, protection of rights. And it's here that politics, to be truly useful, should exit ideological cages and return within the boundaries of reality.

President Ronald Reagan delivering his
first inaugural addressIn his inaugural address as President of the United States on January 20, 1981, Ronald Reagan uttered a famous phrase: "In this present crisis, government is not the solution to our problem; government is the problem." Those words represented a watershed in American politics, especially in relation to the legacy of the "Big Government" of the Lyndon B. Johnson era and his Great Society. They were also a cultural turning point, which profoundly influenced subsequent administrations, even Democratic ones (Clinton, for example, declared in 1996: "The era of big government is over").

In today's world, marked by growing debt and high expectations, the real line of demarcation is no longer between those who want to demonize the state and those who idolize it, but between those who want a state that works and those who settle for rhetoric. The future belongs to those who will have the courage to govern with numbers, with transparency and with vision. And in this, at least today, the most intelligent Republican administrators are charting the course.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE:All original content of this blog [Wind Rose Hotel] is subject to Creative Commons license (by-nc-sa)