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[GUEST] Matt Wolfson: Israeli Connection to Maduro Kidnapping/ Will Zionists Get Their War With Iran?

Missed signals are costly; misplaced confidence is worse. We open by unpacking the concrete indicators that war planners watch—carrier deployments, airspace changes, and last‑minute strike deliberations—and what they tell us about the real likelihood of a U.S. hit on Iran. From there, the conversation widens to a quieter battlefield: development frameworks that trade normalization for access. Our guest, Matt Wolfson of the Libertarian Institute, explains how the Isaac Accords mirror the Abraham Accords across Latin America, offering water tech, finance, and modernization while pulling states into a specific geopolitical lane.

We trace how these packages play out on the ground—smart cities and smart villages that promise efficiency but often centralize control, displace farmers, and refit local economies around external capital. The throughline is leverage: funding and technology become tools to align foreign policy, not just build infrastructure. Tying this to current flashpoints, we connect Venezuela’s isolation and Iran’s containment to a paired strategy that narrows options for countries considering alternative blocs. Whether or not missiles fly, the architecture of influence expands through boards, grants, and MOUs.

Personalities and networks add sharp edges. Reports pointing to Marco Rubio and Stephen Miller as key drivers reflect long-standing alliances among neoconservatives, Zionist donors, and anti-communist exile circles, stretching from Iran-Contra to today. We weigh that ideological push against a president’s resource-first instincts and aversion to quagmires, a tension that explains dramatic reversals and transactional messaging. The big takeaway: sovereignty can erode by clause and contract as surely as by cruise missile. If we care about costs and consequences, we need to scrutinize the financing vehicles and “nonprofit” corridors that precede the headlines.

If this breakdown sharpened your lens, follow the show, share it with a friend who tracks foreign policy, and leave a review with the one question you want answered next. Your feedback shapes what we tackle in upcoming episodes.

Breathe the waves of peace

Breathe the waves of peace

He stood composed, the wind pushed him. The trees waved and leaned above and around. Clouds considered rain, though retained a deep grey. Birds, breeze and his own breathing a convalescence of harmony. He was alone. Standing as if on a horse, the ancient position tested his legs. If his eyes were closed, he could see. When open, he saw nothing. With each breath, he wandered free of thoughts. No mind, no past, no future on the presence of the present. With each, breath, breathe, breath, breathing, breath. Only a Now.

Anger, rage, it boiled and simmered. Concealed beneath the skin of formality and politeness. The lava of violence bubbled, as a limp witness to anguish and as a child tormented by restraints while innocence was plunged away. The stench of barking breath, puffs of laughter and the humiliation of helplessness in self and while watching the tears of others with inability to save. Breathe, push away the darkness, the hate, the viscous fumes. Breathe.

Sadness, sorrow, frozen in miserable rivers of turmoil. Those lost and moments of poor timing and ill placed sincerity or, worse, insincerity. Actions and inactions. Tears and blood, washed into the soils of the past billowing into weeds of resentment or distance. Or, like fallen leaves of the tree and plucked pedals from the flower, never to return. Lifeless and discarded, soon to decay or blown into the winds of memory and soon, forgotten. Breathe with those winds. Remember, whispered within them.

Regret and resentment washed away with each breath. They lingered and toiled at his mind and heart but struggled to retain any foothold. Want, what was there to want? Need? Here he was, not in need but in control. The master of his breathing, his mind. He had done no wrong, harmed no one, he lived to be at peace and not wrong others.

He moved, not quite a Kata or any martial form. It was not combative, though it resisted the wind and darkness which now consumed him. Soon, there was no wind or trees. Only the darkness. His mind returned to the crashing of waves, the oceans relentless blast, a sea breeze and the song of gulls above. The wet spray across his face, and foam curling his toes. His mind took him deeper into the water, he now swam. Beneath those crashing waves and into the depths of a sea which transcended here and now, spanning time and space.

Pulling and drawing himself from the wet fluids of beneath to the searing heat of a still desert under a constant sun. Blue sky. Yellow sand, far, beyond the horizon. A snake coiling near to where he stood. He watched it, the sand it’s tapestry to sing out shapes. Long and round, skipping at points until he could read the music left for him by the sands reptile. It was free. As was he.

Breathe. Breath. No mind. No thoughts.

A heavy rapping rattled from the darkness. Slowly his eyes opened. The small room, a bucket, dim light, no window, only the glass and bars through a port in the door. The rapping turned into a knock, followed by a pair of armed men who entered. He remained standing, still, in the middle of the room. The men pushed and pulled at him. The storm trying to topple him, he breathed and yielded like an ancient willow. He did not resist. They lifted him, threw him to the floor. Kicked and stomped him. Thump, punch, kick. Their violent actions ratified by his peaceful inaction, it was embedded into their uniform. Jeering and laughing. They left. He could taste the spit and blood, they understood force, violence. It was their doctrine, their ideology and their income depended on it.

He crawled to his feet. The door shut over. Breathe. His ribs heaved from the pain. It hurt. His lips bled tears of salty red, drooling from his mouth and across his shirt. Scars slowly tried healing elsewhere on his body. Barely fuelled by the morsels of gruel he was fed inside his solitary den. Like the snake crossing the desert sand, they left their mark. But with each breathe and the wandering spirit of his mind, the wind washed their snake tracks far from his sand. Breathe, the dignity returned. He knew they had none. They knew it to. They expressed it.

He was imprisoned but freer than them. He had nowhere else to be. A man who had done no wrong, but was a prisoner for saying the wrong thing. He spoke, while others coward their whispers. He saw and yelled the truth, while others closed their eyes and spoke what was allowed. From the trees of his forest hang no lynched corpses, no mobs of the self-righteous held down any wailing victim to plunge away innocence in his wilderness, no strangers earnings lined his pockets, no bread stolen from a neighbours plate, no distant lands burning beneath the paperwork of policy. That was for his captors to be purveyors of such misery and claim it law, rights or destiny. He had no victims. They built cities upon their bones.

Breathe. The unjust roars with insecure recklessness. Peace finds away, especially after the storm. His mind returned to the smiling innocent, soon their tears would be no more. Breathe the waves of peace, they will only sink in them.

The Kyle Anzalone Show [GUEST] Nick Cleveland-Stout on Making Big Money on War: Polymarket and Think Tanks

What happens when war becomes a market and foreign policy turns into an odds board? We dive into the uneasy world of prediction platforms like Polymarket and Kalshi, where traders place bets on battlefield maps, covert raids, and even the exact words politicians will say. With researcher Nick Cleveland Stout from the Quincy Institute, we unpack how a briefly altered Ukraine map preceded a major payout, why a $400,000 win hit just hours before a surprise operation in Venezuela, and how these signals can tip off adversaries long before headlines catch up.

Together we explore the ethics and incentives behind “the news of tomorrow today.” If market rules hinge on a single source, a map tweak or an official statement can decide millions—inviting manipulation rather than insight. We look closely at the regulatory blind spot: the CFTC treats these venues as prediction markets, leaving no insider trading framework even when life-and-death events are on the line. That vacuum tempts those with privileged access to profit, while retail bettors absorb the risk and confusion.

The conversation follows the money. Defense contractors tout hardware after high-profile raids, budgets swell, and the arms industry wins. Oil players eye Venezuela’s reserves and refineries, with some majors ready to expand and others demanding ironclad guarantees after prior expropriations. We examine how talk of reimbursements, control over refining, and contested asset sales like Sitgo feed a broader strategy to exert power without boots on the ground—and how markets amplify or distort that story.

If prediction markets can surface real signals, they can also nudge reality. We outline concrete guardrails: diversified resolution sources, audit trails, institutional no-trade policies, event-type limits for active conflicts, and anomaly flags when flows cluster around sensitive moments. Then we ask the core question: should anyone profit from outcomes they can influence? Listen and decide with us, and if this conversation sharpened your thinking, follow the show, share it with a friend, and leave a review so others can find it.

Maps Don’t Lie

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The Greenland drama is amusing but reality about the players is rather sobering. A casual look at Russia’s habitual military presence in the Arctic for generations dispels any illusion.

Europe is presently making lots of noise in a scheduled exercise in Greenland to theatrically pose as the vanguards of protecting Greenland from an American invasion.

The Kyle Anzalone Show: From ICE To “I Seized Your Oil”

A young woman lies dead on a Minneapolis street, an ICE officer pulled the trigger, and the official story leans on power instead of necessity. We open with what the footage actually shows, why the shot trajectory matters, and how a federal investigation shifts accountability away from local control. The human loss is personal and visceral—and the reaction is telling. When partisan voices celebrate lethal force as a message, we all lose a piece of our democratic soul.

From there we follow the thread to Venezuela, where a brazen kidnapping of a foreign leader and airstrikes get sold as something short of war. Megyn Kelly’s caution and Kat Timpf’s pushback puncture the cheerleading and force the real questions: What’s the plan after the “win”? Who pays when “rebuilding” turns into contracts for friends and photo ops in Caracas? And if drug flows are the excuse, why ignore the obvious—demand starts at home, and public health beats cruise missiles every time. We break down the Senate’s War Powers maneuver, applaud rare moments of GOP restraint, and explain why a veto threat still matters for shaping the debate.

Finally, we take apart the latest NATO spin. If Europe adds little to American defense relative to what we provide, committing more while inflating 5 percent spending fantasies won’t fix deterrence. It’s mission creep masquerading as solidarity. Across policing, foreign policy, and alliances, our case is simple: draw firm lines, resist the spectacle, and demand strategy over swagger. If you value clear-eyed analysis without the corporate gloss, hit subscribe, share this with a friend, and leave a review telling us where you stand on Minneapolis, Venezuela, and NATO. Your voice shapes what we dig into next.

War 101: A Cautionary Tale

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Dear NATO and EU/SSR,
Keep this in the back of your mind in your salons and conference rooms in Brussels:
“Diplomacy without military might is like music without instruments.”
Frederick the Great

The Answer to Government Fraud

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Occam’s Razor provides the easiest answer to the “day care” fraud splashed across the media: NO government subsidy whatsoever.

Then when you discover fraud in other government programs you do the same, eventually the fraud is reduced.

Simple, elegant and logical

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