A recent viral essay from the New Yorker details the virtual market lock Google and other AI companies have quietly, some might say underhandedly, gained on the coveted and highly vulnerable K-8 public school population.

While we’re watching oil prices, the border invasion, and trying to feed our families, Big Tech is already fully insinuated into the school system — via long-standing, highly corrupt but technically legal arrangements between corporate-industrial capital and the U.S. Department of Education.

John Taylor Gatto, the legendary New York schoolteacher, best-selling author, and titan in the struggle for human dignity, once warned, “Schools were designed … to be instruments of the scientific management of a mass population. Schools are intended to produce, through the application of formulae, formulaic human beings whose behavior can be predicted and controlled.”

Lifelong customers are tough to create, unless you indoctrinate them.

He was correct, of course. And so the penetration of AI and Big Tech into public schools shouldn’t be a surprise. Rather, it is inevitable — as AI and Big Tech share many of these original ideas related to the management of human beings via cybernetics and technocracy. It’s almost as if the captive audience of young children was put into place to wait for the final insinuation of ultimate control through dumbing-down technology.

Consider the experience recounted in the New Yorker by writer Jessica Winter, a mother herself: “Students at my eleven-year-old daughter’s public middle school began receiving new Google Chromebooks, and that is when I heard the tap-tap of the cloven hooves approaching our doorstep. The Chromebooks, which the students use in every class and for homework, came pre-installed with an all-ages version of Gemini, a suite of A.I. tools. When my daughter, who is in sixth grade, begins writing an essay, she gets a prompt: ‘Help me write.’ If she is starting work on a slide-show presentation, the prompt is ‘Help me visualize.’”

Lifelong customers are tough to create, unless you indoctrinate them at the most vulnerable and malleable stages of their lives. As our expectations have fallen concerning our social arrangements, companies like Google or Anthropic, in partnership with, say, Microsoft, are building a long play. They’re capturing the brand allegiance, building familiarity, and establishing “relationships” early — investments that will extend throughout life.

“No single company has a monopoly on A.I. in K-8 education,” Winter observes. But Google, thanks to its Chromebook, is well on the way.

“A report by the U.S. Public Interest Research Group noted that, by the last quarter of 2020, year-on-year sales of the device were up by 287%,” reports Winter. “In a national survey conducted by the Times last November, about 80% of K-12 teachers said that their districts use Chromebooks, which has created a vast captive market for Gemini and helped make A.I. in schools a near-universal prospect.”

RELATED: Commencement speaker praises AI and globalism — graduates crush her with boos

Phelan M. Ebenhack/Getty Images

One senses a strange respect for the business acumen of these market virtuosos. After all, it wasn’t long ago that their “progressive” bona fides and “good person” ethos were fully accredited by the country’s all-too-well-established elite institutions. Those old habits and expectations die hard. But today the emerging picture concerning AI-forward Big Tech and our children’s minds, to say nothing of our own dwindling capacities, still remains too “conspiratorial” for most of the mass media apparatus.

However gingerly, Winter tiptoes toward the truth. She flags a new MIT study that concludes “the integration of LLMs into learning environments may inadvertently contribute to cognitive atrophy.” But again: Winter notes the study’s timid authors “appended an FAQ to the paper with instructions on how to discuss its findings,” begging readers not to use “the words like ‘stupid,’ ‘dumb,’ ‘brain rot,’ ‘harm,’ ‘damage,’ ‘brain damage,’ ‘passivity,’ ‘trimming,’ and so on.”

Even if we didn’t have countless studies decrying the potential and proven deleterious effects of AI — on adults! — we should, and could if we wanted, simply sit back and apply Gatto’s observations and warnings to the manner in which tax schemes and kickbacks have deluged the classroom with digital technology that seems built more to impair than inspire.

It isn’t at all up for debate as to whether the U.S. education system was purposely built to serve the needs of industrial capital for docile and compliant workers. We could, I suppose, debate the ethics of that government-corporate merger. But it has long been in effect.

What may still be debatable is whether we, as a people — we American are still a coherent people, right? — wish to radically amplify the depth and scope of that docility. The perverse logic at work in the unified sectors of American education, finance, technology, and government is geared for deeply anti-human outcomes. And those fed into the gears at a young enough age will never know any better.

​Google, Classroom, Ai, Tech 

Recently, I wrote about my cancer diagnosis. In the aftermath of that ordeal, I finally scheduled something I had put off too long: a colonoscopy. It had been 11 years since my last one.

Part of that gap was due to neglect, I suppose. But much of it came from the reality of caregiving. Over the last six years alone, my wife and I have spent nearly 12 months in hospitals. The stretches at home often felt like military logistics.

And since we live about 60 miles from the nearest facility performing colonoscopies, scheduling one is not exactly like stopping by the barbershop.

Truthfully, I was nervous. Not panicked, but uneasy enough to want reassurance that this was one area of my body not planning an uprising. Once you hear the word “cancer,” your imagination suddenly takes on a full-time job.

When we learn to steward our bodies and hearts well, it often spills into our finances, our work, our relationships, and the way we carry responsibility itself.

So there I sat in the curtained pre-op area waiting for the doctor.

As I watched, the curtain beside me kept shifting while he searched for the opening. A hand appeared, disappeared, then the curtain moved again.

After decades of hospitals and surgeries with my wife, I’ve learned something important: If you lose your sense of humor in these places, the fluorescent lighting wins.

So when the doctor finally stepped through the curtain, I said to him in my best Roy D. Mercer impression:

“Look a here … if you’re havin’ a hard time finding the hole in the curtain, I’m a little concerned about you rootin’ around where you’re about to go.”

He burst out laughing and sheepishly assured me he knew exactly what he was doing. A few minutes later, they wheeled me toward the procedure room.

As we rolled through the doors, I gave the Mercer impression another go:

“Ahhright then … y’all gonna get to the bottom of this now. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

Then, just before they put me under, the doctor answered in his best Larry the Cable Guy voice:

“Let’s get ’er done!”

My last thought before going to sleep was: “How reassuring.”

Thankfully, the procedure went well. I’m good for several more years. I’ve seen moments like that one in hospital rooms, waiting areas, funeral homes, and around kitchen tables where exhausted families carried burdens they never imagined carrying.

Two weeks before the colonoscopy, I was playing the piano for the funeral of a beloved pastor here in Montana. The sanctuary was heavy with grief. Then, while adjusting my music, my sleeve caught the piano lid.

Apparently, the thing had been engineered by the same people who design bear traps. The lid slammed shut with a crack loud enough to wake the dead, which, considering the setting, felt especially unfortunate. The whole congregation jumped. Then, they laughed while I turned the color of a stop sign. And for just a few seconds, in the middle of grief, people breathed again. Not because suffering is funny, but because despair is heavy, and laughter gives weary people enough strength to pick the load back up.

RELATED: Life can be hard, but don’t forget to laugh

Anton Zacon/Getty Images

Somewhere along the way, we started confusing seriousness with rigidity. We became suspicious of humor in hard moments, as if laughter dishonors grief.

I don’t believe that. The older I get, the more I believe humor can be an act of stewardship rather than denial.

It’s not pretending things don’t hurt or making light of tragedy. Just refusing to surrender every corner of the heart to darkness.

Hospitals have a way of distilling what matters. Sitting in waiting rooms, hearing monitors beep through the night, or listening to the wheels of a gurney rattle down a hallway strips away much of the endless noise masquerading as importance in our culture.

You start remembering what matters.

A friend recently asked how I’m approaching decisions about my cancer treatment. My answer was simple: Stewardship will drive this decision. Thankfully, we caught my cancer early enough that I have options. That didn’t happen through panic. It happened through paying attention.

Caregivers are notorious for postponing their own health while tending to everyone else. I’ve certainly done my share of that over the years. But healthy caregivers make better caregivers. Screenings matter, rest is important, and laughter is essential from time to time.

Stewardship rarely stays confined to one corner of life. When we learn to steward our bodies and hearts well, it often spills into our finances, our work, our relationships, and the way we carry responsibility itself.

In a culture consumed with debt, rancor, fraud, and endless outrage, the problems can feel too large and tangled to fix.

But perhaps stewardship still begins the same way it always has: with individuals willing to accept responsibility for what’s right in front of them.

This include our health, families, work, and our other obligations.

Healthy cultures are built the same way healthy lives are: one act of stewardship at a time.

​Cancer, Cancer diagnosis, Cancer treatment, Caregiving, Stewardship, Individual responsibility, Humor, Opinion & analysis 

In her latest H-1B investigation, BlazeTV host Sara Gonzales confronted the owner of Great America Technologies in Frisco/Plano, Texas, over suspected fraud. After trying for months to visit the business’ registered address, only to find an empty office suite where multiple H-1B employees are supposedly working, as well as a defunct phone number and website, Sara finally tracked down Nagarjuna Reddy Sakam at his personal residence.

She pressed him on the company’s multiple H-1B sponsorships according to USCIS data, the lack of visible evidence of business operations, and whether or not Nagarjuna was illegally running the business, which originally was registered under his wife’s name, before he obtained his green card.

When Sara demanded that he present her with the company’s public access files — a legal requirement for any American business sponsoring H-1B employees — Nagarjuna reacted defensively. The confrontation led to a heated back-and-forth that culminated in Nagarjuna threatening Sara with a lawsuit and Sara vowing to report his business to the authorities.

On this episode of “Sara Gonzales Unfiltered,” Sara drops the latest bombshell on her investigations into Nagarjuna’s Great America Technologies, Inc.

She warns: “I hope that you’ve taken your blood pressure medication before watching this. If you haven’t, you can hit pause and go make sure that you do that, because this is really going to piss you off.”

– YouTube

Shortly after their confrontation, Sara discovered that 20 minutes after she left Nagarjuna’s residence at his request, he allegedly called 911 and tried to “file a complaint” on her forf questioning the legality of his business operations. The call resulted in “no legal action against [her].”

He then allegedly sent her a poorly worded “ChatGPT cease-and-desist letter,” accusing her of trespassing, invasive questioning, unlawfully recording him, and harassment and intimidation.

But that’s just the beginning of what Sara discovered.

During their viral confrontation, Nagarjuna repeatedly insisted that he was “paying taxes to the government.”

Sara found out, however, that Great America Technologies Inc. had taken out a significant PPP loan.

“[Nagarjuna] actually took an insane amount of money as a PPP loan handout that was forgiven,” she says, citing ProPublica data.

“[It] is a total, my friends, of $266,542 taken from us,” she adds.

Sara believes the numbers are suspicious.

“I’m just wondering why on earth a software consulting company with only remote workers and no one working in office would need to take out PPP loans for payroll,” she says skeptically. “Make that make sense, because this was a time when literally every technology company in the world was thriving and making more profits than they ever had because they were already set up to work remote.”

“Over $260,000 of our taxpayer money that I’m legally paying that you just had — poof — just forgiven. I’m wondering what was that money actually spent on,” Sara wonders.

“You want to file a lawsuit? Go ahead,” she challenges. “I would love the opportunity for discovery.”

Sara believes justice is coming for Nagarjuna.

“Harmeet Dhillon, the U.S. assistant attorney general for the Civil Rights Division, who has been on this very issue, liked the video enough to repost it,” says Sara. “So you may get very familiar with her and her attorneys very soon.”

To hear more, watch the video above.

Want more from Sara Gonzales?

To enjoy more of Sara’s no-holds-barred takes on news and culture, subscribe to BlazeTV — the largest multi-platform network of voices who love America, defend the Constitution, and live the American dream.

​Blazetv sara gonzales, Bombshell investigation, Great american technologies, Green card, H-1b fraud, H-1b visas, H1b investigation, Inc, Nagarjuna reddy sakam, Public access files, Sara gonzales, Sara gonzales unfiltered, Sponsorships 

Winn the barber ran a tidy, one-chair shop in an office park off Route 222. That meant a wait — especially since my mother usually brought my two younger brothers as well — but I didn’t mind.

Like Winn, who always wore a starched white coat and slicked his hair back with Brylcreem, I was a creature of habit, and I had a ritual for these bimonthly visits. I’d plop down into one of the vinyl-covered seats and catch up on the adventures of Archie Andrews and the rest of the Riverdale High gang.

In the 1970s, evangelical Christianity may not have been culturally dominant, but it was culturally permissible.

Normally, I stuck to more serious fare — “Batman,” “Daredevil,” maybe the odd “Sgt. Rock” if the spinner rack was looking particularly picked over. But Winn exclusively stocked his waiting room with Archie Comics.

Revival in Riverdale

Sophisticated cineastes will cry at “The Notebook” if they watch it on an airplane — something about the altitude. And something about Winn’s place — the fake wood paneling on the walls, the smell of Barbicide mingling with the eerie “easy listening” music wafting from a hidden speaker somewhere — lowered my critical defenses. I couldn’t get enough of these soothingly repetitive teenage misadventures.

Then, one afternoon I picked up an issue that seemed off. Entitled “Archie’s One Way,” the cover featured Archie and friends in his “jalopy” — comically overheating and leaking fluid everywhere — getting yelled at by a cop for ignoring the obvious street sign. “Do you know this is ONE WAY?”

So far, so good. Typical Archie setup. But instead of a wisecrack from Reggie or Jughead, we get Betty piping up from the back seat, arms raised in joyful celebration: “This is cool! The officer is WITNESSING to Archie!”

Huh.

A new creation

I opened the cover and read with a kind of dawning horror, like the lone survivor in a body snatchers movie. The art, the lettering, the bright colors were exactly the same, but somehow, when I wasn’t looking, the wholesome yet wholly secular teens I’d come to know and love had been swapped with evangelical Christian duplicates.

I had encountered one of the licensed line of Archie issues put out by Spire Christian Comics from 1973 to 1982.

The idea came from longtime Archie artist Al Hartley, who’d had a born-again experience in 1967 and thought Archie would make a great way to spread the gospel. Although he was Jewish, John Goldwater — who had created Archie along with partner Louis Silberkleit some 30 years earlier — agreed.

The regular Archie books continued unchanged. These proselytizing stories lived in their own lane, distributed through Christian bookstores and churches — although often making it out into the wider world, as I and other unsuspecting readers can confirm.

RELATED: The night of the gun was never-ending — until the day I surrendered to Christ

Old Man in Prayer by Workshop of Rembrandt van Rijn, circa 1629. Barney Burstein/Corbis/VCG/Getty Images

‘Divorce Any Style’

The message wasn’t subtle: In that same issue, the gang ends up in what appears to be Riverdale’s never-before-seen version of Times Square, recoiling at marquees advertising movies like “Divorce Any Style” (rated X), “Crime Pays,” and “Sex Sex.”

In another, Betty helps an injured hippie classmate (a great kid, notes Archie, before she “got into the drug scene”) accept Christ into her heart after a bad car accident.

The idea of Archie Comics as Jack Chick tract seems strange now. But is it any stranger than the recent TV series “Riverdale,” the requisite “bold” and “subversive” take that turned its Anytown, U.S.A., into a hotbed of conspiracies, crime, and gothic melodrama?

What’s really strange to contemplate from today’s vantage point is that Archie’s conversion didn’t inspire any kind of national uproar. Granted, before the internet, it was much harder for outrage to spread; most people not in Spire’s audience probably didn’t know these comics existed.

But I think it was also something else.

Negative world

Writer Aaron Renn has described American culture as moving from a “Positive World,” in which Christianity carried social legitimacy, to a “Neutral World,” and now to a “Negative World,” where public Christian identity can carry reputational cost. However one draws the lines, the Archie–Spire experiment clearly belongs to an earlier era.

In the 1970s, evangelical Christianity may not have been culturally dominant, but it was culturally permissible. Just as even liberal Democrat Jimmy Carter could speak of committing adultery “in his heart” (in Playboy magazine, of all places) and still get elected, a mainstream publisher could allow its most recognizable teenager to kneel in prayer and trust that the sky would not fall.

The moment was not confined to Riverdale — or Protestantism. In the ’80s, Marvel produced comic book biographies of Pope John Paul II and Mother Teresa.

As late as the early ’90s, Marvel launched a joint venture with Christian publisher Thomas Nelson to publish the adventures of the Illuminator — a superhero with explicitly God-given powers — as well as adaptations of “The Pilgrim’s Progress” and C.S. Lewis’ classic “The Screwtape Letters.” The imprint was shut down after only two years.

‘Nuff said?

In 2000, Marvel founder Stan Lee approached Episcopal priest Peter Wallace about creating comics based on a “biblical worldview” for his new online venture Stan Lee Media. In a 2023 article, Wallace recalled his pitch:

This approach would promote belief in God, the example of Christ’s life, the reality of supernatural conflict, strong moral values, and an altruistic lifestyle. Our stories would be fully compatible with the Bible and religious tradition, but without painting ourselves into a corner theologically. The goal of this approach — a goal that’s urgently needed today — is to open young minds to the reality of God, to build a strong case for faith and morality by example, without being preachy or dogmatic. It can help launch youth of all ages on a quest for truth and a personal relationship with God.

When SLM went bust along with many other first-wave internet start-ups, the idea was forgotten.

Also in 2023, Archie Comics introduced its first transgender character, more than a decade after Riverdale’s first gay student made the scene. The “queering” of Archie was probably inevitable; comic books, like movies and TV, have embraced 21st-century America’s religious zeal for “LGBTQ representation,” among other modish concerns loosely falling under the category “woke.”

But in his 85-year history, Archie Andrews has seen a lot of trends come and go — from the jitterbug and acid rock, to MTV and even crypto. As the “peak woke” of the Trump/Biden/Trump era recedes, we’re apparently seeing a bit of a religious revival among the young. Who’s to say our favorite red-headed, perpetual 16-year-old won’t get caught up in the spirit too?

​American culture, Archie comics, Christianity, Culture, Evangelicals, Lgbtq representation, Lifestyle, Marvel comics, Religious revival, Riverdale tv series, Spire christian comics, Transgender character, Woke, Faith 

I’m looking at new apartments this week here in Portland, Oregon. It’s time for an upgrade.

This has triggered a debate I often have with myself: If I’m going to move, why not leave dysfunctional, far-left Portland altogether?

Had I become so comfortable with the bad vibes of Portland that I would stay here indefinitely, out of inertia or laziness or not wanting to start over?

This is my chance to move to a different city. Or another state. Somewhere with fewer drug addicts and criminals roaming the streets and fewer democratic socialists roaming city hall.

I grew up in Portland. I have lived here off and on throughout my life. During my most productive years as a writer, I lived in bigger, more media-oriented cities, mainly New York and Los Angeles.

But I’ve always loved coming back to Oregon and assumed I would settle here when I retire. Portland always felt like my place. I love the tall trees, the gentle rain, the misty Oregon coast.

Free radicals

Unfortunately, over the last 15 years, Portland has become a hotbed of radicalism and political intolerance. So much so that it has affected my daily life.

I’ve always socialized with creative types. But in Portland, the artistic community is often more hysterical than the violent protesters in the street.

Once it became known I was conservative, I lost about 80% of my writer friends. And maybe half of my other friends. This social exclusion was especially bad during the years around #MeToo, and then COVID, and of course the constant presence of Trump derangement syndrome.

Un-friendzoned

The result is that living here has been like living on a desert island. I feel unwelcome at art events. I avoid literary parties and gallery openings.

One egregious example: I didn’t attend the celebration of life for one of my most important literary mentors, a beloved Portland poet who encouraged me as a young writer and helped advance my career.

I owed so much to this man, and I couldn’t go to his funeral!

RELATED: WACK JOB: My adventures in the mental health industrial complex

Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images

Tiny bubbles

Recently, I saw a TikTok video by a woman whose family had moved from Seattle to Wyoming.

Her message was simple: “No matter how much you think you are aware of the bubble you live in, when you get out of these far-left cities, a whole new world opens up to you.”

This hit me hard. Had I become so comfortable with the bad vibes of Portland that I would stay here indefinitely, out of inertia or laziness or not wanting to start over?

My own private Idaho

One reason I’m reluctant to move to a red state is I’m not sure I would fit in.

Take for example, Boise, Idaho, the closest red city to Portland. I’ve visited there many times. It’s clean. There are no homeless. The people are super nice. It’s very “churchy” and family-oriented. There’s a large Mormon population.

But could I adapt to such a place? I’ve lived in liberal cities MY ENTIRE LIFE. I have never lived in a place like Boise. Would I find people who understand my sense of humor? People who like the obscure music I listen to? Or read the books I read?

Yes, the people of Boise would share my core values. But would they share my urban tastes?

Go east, young man

I had a Republican friend here in Portland who moved to Florida during Trump’s first term. At the time, that seemed like a drastic change.

For a couple of years, I emailed him every few months to ask how he was doing. He had settled right in. Florida was great. He loved it there.

As he grew more comfortable in Florida, I grew less comfortable in Portland. Now, in 2026, moving to Florida 10 years ago seems like a genius move. I am humbled by his foresight.

The great escape?

So what should I do? Be the latecomer, arriving in Tampa or Austin or Nashville a decade after all the smart people already moved there?

I guess it’s never too late. I could still escape.

But what about the tall trees, the gentle rain, and the misty coastline I love so much? What about my roots in the place where I grew up?

Robert E. Lee didn’t abandon his home state of Virginia in the face of a civil war. But Virginia was famous for its proud history and strong cultural heritage.

I’m from Portland, famous for people with orange hair who don’t know what gender they are.

Fall into the gap

I’ve always assumed Portland’s current political extremism would fade over time. Sooner or later, people would calm down and return to some form of normalcy.

But whenever I try to connect with my former liberal friends, I quickly learn that the derangement is stronger than ever.

So, should I stay or should I go?

These are the decisions we have to make during these difficult times — as we struggle to maintain our sense of ourselves and of where we came from.

​Blue states, Boise, Culture, Drug addicts, Lifestyle, Miami, Oregon, Political intolerance, Portland, Red states, Trump derangement syndrome, Wokeness, Blake’s progress