Testimony I want to lay out for consideration now has to do with a certain aspect of compulsive media consumption, something that may convey insights into my philosophic and polemic evolution. Excessive intake of media in general is a gargantuan topic. I intend to focus on a specific flavor of that compulsion.
America in the 1970s enticed its children with a seemingly endlessly expanding media market for gratuitous, instantaneous, and constant consumption. All publications, books and periodicals and reference archives, were available to all via public libraries throughout our land. Like the phone monopoly and the USPS, newspapers almost seemed like a public service. Most middle class households had at least one daily newspaper subscription, delivered by hand before sunrise. Yes print media was highly relevant, and ubiquitous — if slightly more expensive than free. But a cheap radio delivered a crowded field of AM and FM radio station content for free, 24/7/365. In those days, UHF/VHF broadcast television delivered similar service, although the output of content was significantly smaller than any other major media category — just four TV broadcasting companies comprised most if not all of small- to medium-sized markets, and they all went off air for several hours each morning — while a television set remained a considerable investment.
But the consumer of radio content, the listening audience, could usually afford some kind of transistor radio. A radio broadcast covers vast geographies, and is cheaper to operate than television. Independent and local operators often dominated large markets, even whole regions, and syndicated their content nationally. Smaller upstarts festooned the airwaves, especially among the AM channels, driving the advertising market that fed them all.
A key aspect of radio is that, as a strictly audio media product, radio alone among broadcast media types may be consumed while its audience is visually and manually engaged in other tasks. In those days, radio was the most important, reliable, entertaining, and accessible media available, with an enormous consumer audience.
Why visually-bound media — traditionally television and then the more recent emergence of video-on-demand on the internet — dominate the collective attentions and markets of societies everywhere, over the obviously more convenient and practical forms of exclusively audio forms has long puzzled me. Nuance aside, my basic conclusion is that visual mediums hold unconscious sway and dominance over humanity’s outrageously visually oriented nervous system. In other words, people are extremely fascinated with visual stimuli.
It follows then that my earliest memories of media tech are of a too-fuzzy black and white television. But radio was everywhere. If we turned on the TV, we might see someone listening to a radio! I recall my first avid interest in radio programming. I was very young, perhaps just after kindergarten. It was a local, independent channel way down at the end of the FM dial. Free Radio, they called it. A dude would talk in low, mellow tones about the program and then they would put on some crazy sounds, like two turntables at once or electronic experimental music. I was hooked.
Later I traveled up the dial to the Easy Listening stations, the Classical station, and the Soft Rock station, remaining in FM until I migrated to AM for the crackly Christian Rock station. Then back to FM for crystal clear Hard Rock, Classical, and Jazz stations. All for the music. During my late teens, in the mid-80s, local radio stations started getting consolidated and/or bought by national companies interested in conquering local markets. Programming compromises were made, corporate concerns overshadowed content quality. Only Public Radio seemed like it had retained any authenticity.
Public Broadcast Ascendant
I used to love the idea of public broadcasting. Sesame Street values and Electric Company chaos saturated my upbringing. We had our legends of military dominance, NASA, civil rights, medicine and technologies, civil infrastructure, and a certain irrefutable positivity promoted through the legacies of modern martyrs like JFK and MLK. I believed it was possible to entrust the government, our American government which was after all founded on and — I was yet deceived — bound by the US Constitution, to establish media outlets like PBS and NPR in the interest of public service. If public money is used in such operations, then surely the content must follow the most broadly beneficial purpose possible for the people of America, I assumed.
These days men crow how they knew it along, they were never fooled. Congratulations. For my part, per my usual idiom, I found out through great difficulty and humiliations. Whatever gets the job done.
Up until that point where some of the scales fell from my eyes, I relied on NPR. The local affiliate that carried NPR just happened to have taken the same frequency and even the call letters of the Free Radio station I first avidly listened to. For decades I assumed they had been a nationally-funded public radio station the whole time, but at last I learned the truth that it was not so — that the original Free Radio station had been in fact community-funded and independently operated.
In the decades after the arrival of cable television, when I eschewed most television programming, NPR was my window into the world. I listened hours as they droned on in comfortable tones about everything I imagined I should know. I’ve done lots of driving, and I’ve done my share of cooking, both of which can be done while listening to radio. NPR provided hours of conversation, almost like a companion, constant content for my consideration.
I remain circumspect abut whether my continual, decades-long intake of NPR content was worthwhile or not. Up to a certain, more recent point, NPR was my information reference. I thought that NPR provided the most complete, well-rounded approach to news reporting compared to other media outlets. I always seemed to be more aware of current events, multiple perspectives, and insights than my acquaintances. Now I think I was wrong about NPR’s journalistic integrity — along with pretty much all the others — but I’m still not sure how wrong.
The Decline of NPR
I seemed to need to have a nearly constant flow of what I imagined was reliable information to fuel my daily ruminations about my life, my community, my nation, the world, and the cosmos. When the flow of that information was interrupted, for example by fund raiser programming or perhaps I had driven out of signal range, I could experience uneasiness, even a kind of irritation. Whenever this happened, I was disquieted by a notion that I had developed a habit of the type that would not let me alone — a compulsion.
The first time my confidence in NPR reporting was shaken was in the mid-1990s during the Clinton administration with the big push to ratify the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA, ultimately ratified). The Mexican federal government had commenced its bloody crackdown on the Zapatista uprising in Chiapas — an unfortunate coincidence for Mexico as arguably the most important of the three major NAFTA trading partners. NPR had started its reporting as usual, featuring shocked reporters calling for international observers to witness the federales shelling civilian territories. But as the situation worsened NPR dropped the story like a hot potato in what appeared to me to be a news blackout. I speculate that Mexico intended to swiftly crush the rebellion with prejudice (which is what happened), but worried that bad press might spoil the NAFTA initiative.
But despite this, more years would pass before I grew to recognize an escalating imbalance in the type of coverage NPR was pushing on its audience in the form of what we might now call “social justice” programming. Topics included any combination of the following: women’s rights (“glass ceiling,” etc), access for the disabled, gay/lesbian rights, trans-activism, and racial justice. It got to the point where I consciously counted the number of stories NPR covered before defaulting to some kind of social justice story. When they got to every third story, I stopped listening altogether. That was about seven years ago.
Now that I have spent a great deal of time and probably too many words to describe just the basic background conditions and processes of my audio media listening habits, I want to blaze through the history of my most recent years. I might only add the context that due to a lengthy lapse in my access to relevant media technology, I skipped the iPod phase and therefore the earliest days of podcasting, graduating from radio directly to a smartphone with the YouTube app.
I encourage the curious to watch videos, follow links and discover whether my interests have any merit.
By the time recordings of his lectures were being uploaded to YouTube, I was already familiar with Terence McKenna’s work, inclinations, and attitudes, through his writings and magazine interviews, and even a cassette tape recording of one of his lectures. The Bard McKenna is unique among my list of content creators in the sense that he was never an actual YouTuber. He died five years before YouTube even existed. However, as a pioneer of technological innovation, he was a vocal advocate of the type of online access to information that early YouTube represented.
There are countless hours of his recorded speaking engagements at the Esalen Institute and elsewhere, movies and documentaries — so many hours that you may find it hard to believe me if I claim to have consumed them all. He often repeated himself and covered the same material on multiple occasions, yet every single instance has a delightfully unique, extemporaneous twist.
I think I started listening to McKenna recordings on YouTube and in podcasts (recovered, remastered, and published by devoted enthusiasts) in about 2009. By 2015 it was clear to me that I had found the outer limit of extant material. McKenna exuded a rare enthusiasm for unbound speculation on wide array of topics current and historic, all within the context of his own exhaustive scholarship and intensive fieldwork. Casual listeners may have an opinion of him based on his reputation, and they may have strong agreements and disagreements with him on any given subject, but I think any inquisitive listener will find his delivery to be mesmerizing, hilarious, and thrilling. If I had to name just one thing I truly appreciate about McKenna’s words, it’s that he does not make absolute claims about his speculations (which can often be contradictory), but rather opens his ideas up to all who might listen and journey deeper into knowledge along with him.
While I highly recommend McKenna videos (or podcasts), I must also warn the curious that in addition seemingly endless hours of lecture recordings, there seem to be an equal quantity of short clips composited with new age music and psychedelic imagery — posted by well-meaning fans, perhaps as “inspirational” content, but hopelessly out-of-context and hyper-focused on a given agenda. The beauty of McKenna’s material can only be properly experienced within the context of a given lecture, or even lecture series, which entails a minimum of at least an hour of listening, but more often many hours at a time. Shorter clips (under an hour) should probably be skipped, unless it is on a playlist such as the one I found here: Terence McKenna playlist
May he rest in peace.
This clip captures a favorite moment from McKenna’s lectures, but it is also an example of the type of clip to avoid — short, out-of-context soundbites composited with psychedelic imagery and New Age music that dilute and corrupt McKenna’s broader contextual content.
The Joe Rogan Experience
By now most people have heard Joe Rogan’s name, at least in passing. His storied career as a stand-up comedian, reality TV game show host, and UFC fight commentator aside, as the host and (I presume) owner of the world’s most popular podcast The Joe Rogan Experience, his influence frequently invades and gains notable mention in the mainstream media news. I missed the formative years of his show due to technical obstacles, joining his YouTube audience around the same time that I was running out of McKenna videos. I was searching for what would later be labeled “long form” video content that engaged a wide range of interesting guests and topics. Rogan, who admires and frequently references McKenna, fit that bill.
Interviews on Rogan’s show are unedited, unscripted, and typically run about three hours. As a show host, Rogan has a good style. The show boosted a number of personalities whose YouTube content I sought out, most notably Jordan Peterson and Tim Pool.
Eventually, however, I grew mostly bored of The Joe Rogan Experience. I wanted wild and erudite speculative conversations with learned individuals from the fringes of societal norms. I could not sit through three hours of UFC talk or self-obsessed celebrity drivel, and especially not shit-shooting sessions with Rogan’s besties. By the time the show became a Spotify exclusive, I had already stopped watching. I hope the best for him.
Jordan B Peterson
While Rogan’s initial interview with Jordan Peterson was part of my initiation into the Canadian academic’s world, I had already begun to delve into his online content due to the widespread, instant notoriety he achieved in 2016 — incidentally or not — when he publicly condemned Canada’s hate-speech law, the notorious Bill C-16.
Peterson was already a seasoned YouTuber by then, having published recordings of his lectures from most, if not all, of his signature psychology courses that he taught at the University of Toronto and Harvard. My curiosity about him was instantly gratified by many hours of well-delivered, extremely interesting lectures from 2013 through 2017. I intently watched all his college lectures from the latest semester of each course, and many other recorded lectures as well.
At the time, I found Peterson’s style of presentation to be nearly as fascinating as McKenna’s, although in retrospect I suppose my reaction was exaggerated in the absence of the real thing. But Peterson’s advocacy of a kind of radical individualism and anti-collectivist messages gained relevancy as the politics of our day drew increasingly grim. For what it’s worth, and in spite of his own circumspection on the topic of Christian salvation and the person of Jesus, Peterson’s content from this era was instrumental in my reconsideration of Christianity, and therefore my eventual return to it.
I tried to read his book, Twelve Rules for Life, but I found his writing style to be the opposite of engaging. While many claimed to benefit from his self-help message, there was nothing in there for someone like myself. Peterson’s emergence onto the world stage as a prominent personality among the so-called “Intellectual Dark Web” was, in my opinion, disastrous for him, his family, and for his most earnest fans. Best selling book and world tour all aside, his wobbly media appearances amid withering criticism from all sides culminated in drug addiction and protracted physical collapse. Despite his apparently tedious recovery and attempted return to relevancy, my interest in his content has completely disintegrated. But I stand by my praise of his college course playlists. I wish him well.
My introduction to Tim Pool began with episode #1258 of The Joe Rogan Experience (cited above). From that time to approximately the end of 2020, I watched all of his daily news videos. Additionally, for a while after he started it up, I also watched a lot of his nightly streaming shows.
As the Hard Bastard puts it, Pool is great for “red-pilling normies,” which is exactly what happened with me. Pool’s commentary on the implosion of the Trump-Russian collusion scandal hoax and impeachment scam was instrumental in helping me extricate myself out of Trump Derangement Syndrome. It was directly because of Pool’s influence (with a little help from Avenatti) that I canceled cable TV and have since eschewed all forms of mainstream media.
I never publicly said so, because the comparison is flimsy at best and not entirely positive, but, simply in terms of importance and reach, I have thought of Pool as the Edward R Murrow of our times. His delivery is compellingly forceful and relevant in the most immediate sense. For most of the duration of the span when I was listening to him, between his two channels, he delivered four videos amounting to perhaps 1-3 hours of current events content seven days a week. More recently he added his nightly stream while slightly reducing his news channel output, maintaining one of the most reliable sources of alternative news media coverage to be found anywhere.
Despite all of the praise just expressed, I won’t pass on my criticisms of Pool. With the advent of his streaming show and in light of recent developments, two things have become painfully evident. First, Pool’s ego is obnoxiously titanic. As a historically significant, pioneering new-tech journalist in a post-journalism age, as a successful business owner, as a self-made man, does he own bragging rights? Absolutely. Do his swaggering boasts make for engaging nightly content? No. Number two, he appears to have sold out his integrity on two of the most key issues of our times: the stolen 2020 election, and the neither safe nor effective covid vaccine. At best, I think he does it to keep his footing in the highly censorious YouTube economy — at worst, he’s a shill for false narratives. Until he does the research and comments honestly on these pivotal issues, I can’t give him my attention let alone take him seriously. Unfortunately for both of us, I won’t be watching his content to find if and when he changes course. Go with God, Tim Pool.
Alt-Media: Beyond Evil
I still have the YouTube app — baked into my Android phone. I actually bought new phone that was supposed to be unlocked so I could install Graphene OS, but I had to send it back because almost everyone lies.
YouTube, which used to at least field all lies equally, now deliberately favors lies over truth. And not just little lies. Big, ugly, deadly, cruel lies. It promotes these lies with labels and ads on every video it allows as it strikes out those telling the truth, as its algorithms and stooges artificially boost broken, corrupted mainstream media content over more deserving, better performing content of the very independent creators who helped build it into something that Google would even look at in the first place let alone buy and prop up year after year as its revenue model fails — the independent creators who now walk on eggshells, speaking in guarded code and avoiding forbidden topical landmines, forever unsure of what the so-called terms of service even are anymore.
Yes, YouTube is still useful if I need a tutorials on how to fix stuff or make stuff or how to become the opposite sex and worship Baal. This is because, like all the videos listed above, from the olden days and old-timey YouTuber legacy creators, that’s where it all is, from before — when things were still nice. When Google was still at least not… evil? Or was that its serpent’s tongue? But now, if I want fresh news-related content that tells truth and honest opinions spoken in frank terms, and if I don’t want to support the exponential advancement of evil into every corner of human society, I want alternatives.
My transition from viewing content on YouTube to alt-media platforms such as Odysee took place over the last half of 2020, helped out tremendously by my dismissal of Tim Pool. Odysee is one I like. Bitchute is popular, and Rumble. Gab TV will likely continue to grow, there are a handful of others, plus subscription-only and creator-owned sites like Unauthorized.TV, Eric July, or The Blaze.
It’s true that all of the creators below can be found in some form or other on YouTube, perhaps with the exceptions of Owen Benjamin and Mag Bitter Truth. But even Benjamin and Mag, with their helpers, employ guerrilla radio media tactics to keep content flowing on YouTube and other restricted platforms in stuttering spurts. Most of them stream live on a number of platforms, including YouTube, and most publish YouTube-appropriate clips when they can. I’m not sure if Eric July streams his whole show on YouTube or of his show’s YouTube monetization status, but I do know he works tirelessly to create “parallel” sources of revenue for his content. At the time of this writing Louder with Crowder was suspended for the remainder of 2020, although I suspect he will be back and re-monetized — just like the last time that happened. Like Crowder and Tim Pool, the Hard Bastard, Salty Cracker, and Axe Truth all stream live — self-censoring as they do, and at least some are not monetized — but then cut away and continue with uncensored portions of their shows on alt-media and/or proprietary platforms.
Louder with Crowder
I almost forgot to include Crowder. For a while his show was my go-to for laffs galore. I know Owen Benjamin says Crowder is the big gay homo fake joke-stealing embezzler and shill for Israel, but before all of that gossip, and well after Benjamin was the lead writer on Crowder’s show, Louder with Crowder had me laughing my ass off every episode. I’m not talking about the stupid skits and bits, which are just okay, but rather the on-set improv. Lots of people cite co-host Dave Landau, who is very funny, but Half-Asian Lawyer Bill Richmond killin it as a regular there. The whole LWC studio crew has it going on. I’m a huge fan of live comedy improv going way, way back to Adam Corolla on Loveline and NPR’s Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me — mad respect — and I can tell you that the Louder with Crowder cast had the juice — and probably still does. It’s not all about writing or stealing great jokes. You can’t steal rapport.
My experience with LWC began on YouTube, like most people, with clips from “Change My Mind” events, fed to me by the algorithms. As 2020 wore on I was sold on the idea of dropping YouTube and supporting content directly, and the biggest laughs got my dollar. I subscribed to The Blaze, got my big mug, and settled down for what I thought was going to be extra-special exclusivity.
In the end, it wasn’t the fact that I discovered that The Blaze is weirdo Glenn Beck’s enterprise, or that I hold in disregard 90% of the content. And it wasn’t because I figured out that Crowder was a joke thief or a homo or a jerk or whatever. If somehow Israel is involved — boo hoo is this your first time? Rather, I felt ripped off by Crowder because of continual technical problems at The Blaze, scheduling issues, long production breaks, and embarrassingly disappointing broken promises of events. Yes, the mug is nice, and yes I had some laughs, but did I get $100 worth of laughs and mug? When I feel led along, like I been had, man —I must work not to resent that. If Crowder could have kept Richmond around on the regular and met his commitments to his audience, and maybe if The Blaze was technically or otherwise a truly great platform, I might still be subscribed, none the wiser. Peace upon him.
Eric D July — YoungRippa59 — For Canon Sake — BackWordz
YoungRippa59 aka Eric D July, host of For Canon Sake, is another creator I discovered on YouTube, but now we can access his content elsewhere, primarily on Odysee — currently I think I can only get clips from his live stream. If I want to catch his whole live stream, I have either be a YouTube member or look up the audio recording on a podcast platform like (not alt-media) Spotify. Subscribe directly on his website: ericdjuly.com.
July delivers uncompromising commentary on all topics current, and on media and entertainment, against a philosophical background that might be described as libertarian and anarcho-capitalism. No creator currently sees more eye-to-eye with me on most topics than July. On top of this, he has a great band and a comic book company. At this very moment I am listening to BackWordz’s YouTube playlist.
All sample videos posted here are on YouTube, and BackWordz videos are mostly only on YouTube.* While July continues to straddle the Rubicon between evil and alt-media, the clips he chooses to publish on alt-media are more than enough to keep me engaged. Rock on, Rippa.
Mag Bitter Truth
At first I thought it was a joke channel. I don’t know or understand anything about Bitchute, whether how or why content is pimped, whether or not it is actually a free speech platform and who or what really are they lurking about in the comment sections, but that’s where I found Mag and Lord help me I can’t recall why I even watched a video. But I laughed and I watched more.
Mag was my first exposure to hardcore truther content. It’s all about the deceitful Satanic agenda hoaxing the dumb masses. Everyone in the media is a tranny. All politicians are actors and/or lizard people. The earth is not a globe and everything we call science is fake. What sets Mag apart from any other truther content I’ve seen is the delivery — which I find very engaging. Some have suggested that his Jamaican affectation is a persona — that Mag is the real hoax — some white dude in a Toronto basement. Only Mag knows.
One might feel obliged at least to say, “Oh I don’t agree with everything Mag says.” But give him a minute. Like the best truthers, his record seems only to improve. I don’t know if I can recommend his Bitchute videos to just anyone — they’re not his most compelling material. I have discovered a Sunday show, The Mag Bitter Truth First Podcast that he publishes on Spotify and he’s been doing a Mag Bitter Truth Talk Show on iheart.com that I haven’t listened to yet. Bam! Mag on.
Owen Benjamin Smith, known among his community of Bears (of Beartaria) as Big Bear, is another I first found on Bitchute. Among those who claim to be the most banned people on the internet, Benjamin is a strong contender — and those who listen to his streams over the course of a week or so will probably hear all about it. Catch his stream most reliably on Odysee or other sites like VK, as well as on the subscription site Unauthorized.TV which includes live streams, exclusive content, and access to the complete Unauthorized.TV catalog. His streams and select content are archived on Bitchute, Odysee, and elsewhere. Impressively, he and co-conspirators manage to distribute clips from his streams and other appearances throughout social media platforms utilizing guerrilla radio-style strategies.
Special boy Owen Benjamin is another relentless truther gaining a lot of wins, but don’t call him a prophet — he knows the price of that label. He calls himself a spell-breaker — a label he daily earns — and a rabbi. Ok. It’s not really fair to call him a truther, either, but such is the best of his content for me. He has often reminded me of McKenna, even more than Jordan Peterson. But there’s a whole other side that seems infinitely more urgent: his vision for Beartaria, shared by the Bears — those who have been drawn to his messages about family, community, faith, to his powerful gift of humor, and to his song. Benjamin can be called a Visionary. They have called him the Bard King.
I try to watch Benjamin’s streams live because I enjoy the feeling of live radio, of being present, a witness. Often as his words inspire, so also they cut deeply. In this way he once again resembles a prophet. These days I have been less motivated to listen. I’m evaluating Beartaria — the concept, the movement. Benjamin has inspired a entire community spanning the realm, the spark of a parallel economy, a reaffirmation of family and generational wealth, and perhaps a revaluation of true value. I like all of that and for the sake of my children I yearn to find such wholesome community — even though I am no longer sure I will be able to find Beartaria, or what that even is, or even if I should. He says, “It’s all vibrational.” In that spirit, I say, Onward!
Salty Cracker just slightly edges out the Hard Bastard as the absolutely funniest of the streamers I have recently encountered. He typically paces his commentary like a kayak riding Category VI rapids of hilarity, breathlessly blazing through a range of topics found among mainstream media and social media articles and videos.
Following my quest for quality reporting and commentary streams, most recently I discovered Axe Truth on Foxhole. This flaming fellow in Groucho glasses is some sort of Christian, drops truth bombs on all the races and whatevers. And he is seriously hilarious. No AIDS detected. Like Salty Cracker, the Hard Bastard, and Jesse Lee Peterson, his talent includes an ability to draw his audience into his discussions. Some of his streams feature call-in shows, but I haven’t stuck around for that, yet.
These days the Hard Bastard is my favorite source of news and commentary. Like Salty Cracker and Axe Truth, my understanding is that he was only recently shocked awake to the madness of our current age and the dire threats to the legacy of American freedom crowding at our doorsteps — and this I find in common with them. HB takes the insufferable task of reading and watching idiotic corporate content and turns that chore into a party riot of ridicule and scorn. By lending it a feeling of watching and commenting with like-minded friends, his show makes it possible for me to know about poisons spread by progressives like The Young Turks, The David Pakman Show, and The Majority Report with Sam Sedar, or mainstream stooges like MSNBC’s inane clowns Joy Reid, Chris Hayes, and Nicole Wallace, without feeling overwhelmed by their evil ignorance. The importance of such fellowship eases the burden, laughing out loud together in the face of the enemy enraged in its own futility. HB sets the table for us to heave heaps of derision upon the fools who would rule. HB is naturally funny in a salt-of-earth way, his fans in the various chats are a barrel of laughs, and the insane bumper clips he plays in between censored and uncensored portions of the show never get old.
HB streams several times week in the evenings. Some shows are only a couple of hours long, but others seem to go on all night. I’m usually tuckered out by the time he reaches the late night portions of shows, frequently the Clip Show — where video clips forwarded through superchats are played until voted into the red on the AIDS Meter poll — and sometimes a Call-In Show (when dedicated fans can show off their big brains).
Find clips from the Hard Bastard streams on a range of platforms, including Odysee and Bitchute. Stream archives can be found on joshwhotv. The best Hard Bastard experience, however, is enjoined when viewing his livestream live, from the beginning until you just can’t bear it anymore. As mentioned, his streams start on YouTube for an hour or two, and then switch off in favor of alt-media platforms such as Odysee. My favorite HB streaming platform, where the chat really shines and the technical side is very smooth, is Entropy.
Jesse Lee Peterson
Jesse lee Peterson’s catalog stretches decades back, to the before-time of radio and VHS recordings. His reach seems to be inestimably broad. For my part, I first learned of him through a movie called Uncle Tom (2020), but I didn’t start watching his videos until a few months ago, and I’m not even sure why I did — except that I was looking for some acceptable content to fill my ears for some time. The primary format of the show is a call-in show, where Peterson fields calls from those who seek advice or clarification based on the message of his ministry, or from those who want to challenge him in some way. He intersperses call-in activity with commentary on current events and messages connected to, again, his ministry. On the surface of things, Peterson is a very funny, consistent, gracious but firm show host.
However, I will mention for a third time and emphasize that the Jesse Le Peterson show is clearly a vehicle for Peterson’s ministry. Listening over the course of a week or so will reveal this to be the case. Some might call Peterson’s media outreach a grift, others might see it as a cult. For my part, I have found in Peterson’s message undeniable, fundamental understanding about the nature of this life. His advice is highly practical and simple, if not easy: Forgive your earthly mother and father, return to the Father, do the Silent Prayer* every morning and every night. He says, “All thoughts are all lies all the time about anything.” If so, what are all these words I just wrote? Wow!
For more arcane wisdom bombs, watch or listen to the Jesse Lee Peterson Show every morning Monday through Friday, a three-hour call-in show beginning at 6AM Pacific Time, on Odysee and other streaming platforms. Archives and clips can be found on Odysee and Bitchute, among others. Amazin!
* Please note that many of the sample clips in this section are either embeds of YouTube or Bitchute videos, although I primarily use Odysee. I haven’t figured out how to embed Odysee videos on these WordPress pages.