Logan Ledbetter

Founder, Editor-in-Chief

I am a writer, journalist, blogger, soon-to-be author, commentator, politics junkie, football nerd, soon-to-be author, and the founder/editor of this site. More substantively, I am a Christian, an American millennial, born and raised in the verdant state of Oregon, and a fourth-generation carpenter.

I was brought up in the picaresque, industrious logging town of Roseburg, Oregon. Roseburg is a small, quaint town swaddled in the lush, southern hills of the Willamette Valley — a 150-mile long dale which vertically cuts through the western portion of the state. This valley forms an Edenesque blockade between the harsher, temperamental, coastal and alpine climates. The coastal and alpine climates dictated by the Pacific Ocean and Cascade Mountains, respectively. Roseburg is comfortably sheltered in the southern region of the valley and eagerly boasts of a milder annual climate which has spawned the frenzy of professional and amateur viticulturists. 

My earliest memories drawn from my childhood in Roseburg are filled with scenes of heavy machinery, excavation, dirt, sawdust, dirt, and Tonka toys. I am the proud son of a successful General Contractor and developer, and I am the grandson of a successful General Contractor/developer. For most of my early childhood, I literally grew up playing in the dirt on my dad’s job-sites with my panoply of Tonka toys. The highlight of my day, quite often, was whenever I could learn how to operate the backhoe loader with my dad after everyone on the crew had gone home. The man who operated the loader would leave the key hidden– not very well –under the sun visor so my dad could teach me how to operate the machine in the evening. For a five year old boy, it was like piloting the Millennium Falcon. Even to this day, I am enamored like a small child by heavy machinery. The sheer engineering of an individual excavator is awe-inspiring. Beit the hydraulics, the thermodynamics, the structural, electrical, mechanical components that give birth to a handsome, baby excavator is in itself a logistical miracle to be admired by any self-aware capitalist. 

Man is the only creature on earth that makes things to build other things. Man is the only creature that will make a tool and tinker with it to make a particular situation in life more convenient. Yes, I’ve seen the videos of chimpanzees using sticks to measure water-depth and spoon-feed ants into their mouth like an eating utensil — or the pod of orcas using buoyancy to knock some hapless seal off a sheet of ice. I’m not particularly impressed. Even the most staunch Darwinist must admit that man is the preeminent builder in all the animal kingdom. That is only to say, if I give the Darwinist the benefit of the doubt by first including man in the animal kingdom in that argument. As a Creationist, I’d rather not, but I digress. Nevertheless, this innate sense of pride as a builder is infused to my core. At a very young age I was imprinted by the capabilities of man and machine when working in tandem. As I grew older, I grew a healthy respect for the working man; the bonafide engine of this country. I experienced firsthand the hard labor of the skilled trades, the mundane drudgery of the nine-to-five, forty-hour workweek. I learned to value the nitty-gritty, inner working particulars of capitalism and I became fondly nostalgic of the middle-class, blue-collar family lifestyle. The earlier portion of my childhood would lay the groundwork for what eventually became my life’s foundation, regarding my spirituality and religion, my relationships and even my politics. 

Aside from fancying myself as a practical builder that honors his family tradition– at the risk of coming across as conceited –I sincerely view myself as a pragmatic and philosophical thinker. Listening to Joe Rogan from an early age, I was heavily influenced by his trademark, no nonsense, tough-love approach to life, plus he’s also a damn-good comedian. One of the gems I took from Rogan is to “know what you know, and know what you don’t know.” In other words, don’t speak beyond your limitations or certainties. Don’t elaborate on a topic as if you’re an expert on the matter, when in reality you just learned about it for the first time. Know when to be curious, and what to be curious about. Strive to remain humble, and be consistent when you’re embarrassed. That is basic self awareness. That is the principled wisdom of Joe Rogan, and I applied it early in life, especially as the young child of a nasty, circus-show divorce that tore my picture-perfect family to shreds.

If you can humble yourself and sit at the feet of others in order to learn from those you know for a fact are more wise, intelligent, sensible, and experienced than you, it will benefit you tremendously in the long run. I never had the pleasure of meeting him, but similar to Joe Rogan, Charles Krauthammer is another major influence upon my life worth mentioning here. I humbly credit Charles Krauthammer as the man that imbued and inspired me as a writer, spurred my interest and propelled my entry into the field of political theory. Even his surname alone evokes imagery of some Nordic, ancient Germanic, political prose scrawled in a Beethoven-like intellectual madness. His script is so rich it demands to be passed on to progeny and peers alike as the validated arcana of a preeminent and prodigious philosopher-king.

Around the age of twenty, maybe twenty-one, I was quickly growing a passionate interest in the affairs of government, and I was dazzled by the Oxford vernacular and Aristotelian analysis of this certain Charles Krauthammer each and every time he appeared on Fox News. A psychiatrist with an M.D. from Harvard, brandishing the political acumen likened to an Oxford professor, when it came to political commentary, the man truly was– and even is still –in a league with himself.

Near the beginning of the year 2014, I eagerly purchased Charles’ first book, “Things That Matter”, a collection of his most essential columns, articles and essays. As I voraciously consumed the works of Krauthammer, I came to the rash conclusion that I wanted to be a writer and cover politics and other personal interests. I committed myself to the noble undertaking of learning about political philosophy, theory and practice. I devoted myself to the craft of writing and the field of journalism. I fed my intellectual curiosity with books like “Hillbilly Elegy”, “A. Lincoln”, “Walden”, “Meditations”, all the while tearing through Krauthammer’s collected political writings. More recently, I have begun consuming classics like “1984” and new conservative treatises such as “Unfreedom of the Press”, and “The Right Side of History”. I have even ventured recently into the study of military history through the writings of Victor Davis Hanson. Hanson being one of the very few talking-heads on TV these days that I consider so eloquent and level-headed, he may actually be in the same intellectual stratosphere as Krauthammer, but we’ll leave that debate between Harvard and the Hoover Institution.

Now, a lot of crap has happened since I first stumbled upon the writings of Krauthammer and so naively considered covering politics. Charles Krauthammer passed away in June of 2018. Given how unfortunate and depressing that reality is, it ultimately galvanized my passion as a writer. I see all the more reason to preserve that man’s words and life’s work. I believe that his wisdom is needed now more than ever in the national, political discourse, particularly for conservatives. He passed away in the middle of writing his first book on foreign policy. He had only seen Donald Trump as President Trump for sixteen months, hardly getting the chance to cover the most theatrical political season of our generation, before leaving us in a mournful solitude.

Since November 3rd, 2020– Election Day –and the events which subsequently followed, I have formally decided to embark on a career as a writer, and venture to earn whatever measly livelihood I may obtain through covering politics and current events. I have briefly, previously pursued this passion of mine but was forced to place it on the shelf indefinitely for the sake of a certain paycheck; chasing another dream down I-5 to Huntington Beach, California. As a fourth-generation carpenter, the son of a successful General Contractor, and grandson of a successful General Contractor, when opportunity and duty call, heritage and tradition seem to ring the ears. Especially when those warm, sunny California beaches are singin’ your name in the middle of the Oregon winter. I can say I thoroughly enjoyed myself and learned a few good, hard lessons in SoCal, but as the old cliche goes, “home is where the heart is”, and so it was only inevitable that I would return to the lush, ever-expansive, stomping grounds of the Pacific Northwest.

Regarding the craft of writing, I will anxiously admit I am less qualified than the vast multitude of my peers, who by contrast make me look like an incompetent rube. I view myself as significantly unqualified for the task at hand. I have no specific credentials that qualify me to write about politics. I tragically lack a formal education beyond basic K-12. I don’t have a bachelor’s in journalism, English or political science, let alone a master’s in psychology or a law degree. I do not claim to be an intellectual heavyweight. I’m just a random redneck from a little logging town in Oregon who identifies with millions of other Caucasian, blue-collar Americans that have no college degree. For too long, I have watched as a Leviathan media strangles, suppresses and distorts our news and information. I have watched the rapid decay of the press in recent years and the crumbling foundation of that entire institution. I simply cannot allow myself to sit idly-by any longer as a group of fat-cat bureaucrats and Ivy League sycophants attempt to flush it all down the toilet with their radioactive, bohemian waste and putrid Marxist agenda.

Although the Creator didn’t grace me with the intellect of Ben Shapiro, the wisdom of Charles Krauthammer, or the eloquence of Thomas Jefferson, I will muster whatever dull faculties I have been endowed with, and I will vigorously continue to sharpen them for the vitality of the national discourse, and with the purpose of contributing in any particular way to this amazing social organism our forebearers fondly deemed “The Great American Experiment”. Like Krauthammer, wholeheartedly, “I believe that the pursuit of truth and right ideas through honest debate and rigorous argument is a noble undertaking.” Therefore I am devoting myself entirely to this noble undertaking

I am not bound by AP journalism standards, although I will attempt to adhere by them. I consider myself much less a journalist than a commentator, and a freelance at that. I basically analyze and comment on the news, specifically political news, but I will step outside that sphere at times as my interest will warrant. Some may refer to it as opinion journalism— if there could be such a thing –but I personally prefer the term commentary or analysis. I am subjective, not objective. In other words, as a writer, I am open to my audience about my opinions and biases. I do not simply report on new events and gather facts, instead I offer my opinion, analysis and commentary regarding said events and said facts. That is the difference between a journalist, and a commentator. That proper distinction between an opinion and a report has been woefully lacking in the psyche of the American press for some time now, perhaps my entire lifetime. 

The single worst aspect of the American press today is that there are so many political activists, staunch propagandists, and “social justice warriors” masquerading as objective “journalists”. Subtle, shady, Janus-faced “journalists” such as Brian Stelter, Chuck Todd and Joe Scarborough have degraded and degenerated the institution of the press more in the last five years, than the loud, egocentric tawdriness of Trump ever would have accomplished in a thousand lifetimes. The pure deception displayed by the media, coupled with its elitist, snobby attitude toward the working class has motivated this particular carpenter to devote his entire life to the restoration and preservation of the institutional integrity of the American press, to dismantle and discontinue the toxic spread of the Socialist/Communist/Marxist ideology.

Admittedly, I would like to make it seem as though my reasoning to start a political blog is founded primarily upon the timeless wit and wisdom of the conservative columnist Charles Krauthammer and in preserving his legacy. That is only partially true. It is primarily my personal knee-jerk reaction to all that has happened politically and socially in the year 2020. This blog is my figurative middle finger directed at the decadent, delusional, corrosive, condescending media conglomerate which effectively is the megaphonic bulwark for the Democrat Party, Wall Street and Silicon Valley. “Orwellian” is no longer just an apt, catchy adjective for describing episodic government overreach, it is beginning to completely redefine our entire society. I will no longer sit silently as a lamb before its shearers. The Washington Elite arrogantly believe they can slaughter us like millions of blind, domesticated sheep. It is now incumbent upon us to do our part as active American citizens. We are in dire need of common sense in this country. Common sense is such a rarity it can no longer be called common. Sensibility has become too rare to be classified as something common

We must restore our institutions’ integrity. We must reestablish the simple reverence that was once held for the Constitution and the founding documents. We must also reestablish the blunt, human reality that no historical figure, past or present is perfect, let alone near deity. I plan to represent these complex issues alongside any pertinent solutions in the future of this blog. I am acutely aware of how much I have yet to learn regarding this subject matter, but I still have my youth and gleefully take the challenge head-on. If Krauthammer didn’t begin writing before the age of thirty, I suppose twenty-eight is good enough for me. It is my sincere hope that you join me in this noble undertaking, and it is my earnest prayer that God may continue to bless the people of this exceptional land we so affectionately call America.


Albany, Oregon 

January 5th, 2021

“I may err in my measures, but never shall deflect from the intention to fortify the public liberty by every possible means, and to put it out the power of the few to riot on the labors of the many.”

Thomas Jefferson, June 28, 1804