A recent email: “I signed up for your newsletter because your jazz content on YouTube is first rate. I’m unsubscribing because most of the Substack content is left wing political diatribes. If you are genuinely curious why thoughtful people voted against your preferred party, then I encourage you to read the free press or maybe even Tom Sowell’s economic facts and fallacies. As for me, I voted for Trump because too many Democrats are unforgivably encouraging children to mutilate their bodies and minds with putative sex changes and also because they are celebrating the pogrom of October 7.”
I responded: “Thanks so much for your thoughtful email. I greatly appreciate you sharing your opinions with me. I can only hope this is a safe, healthy and prosperous year for you and your family.”
There’s no point in arguing with a Trump supporter—it’s impossible to reason with them.
I know many of you came here expecting more content from my Jazz Video Guy YouTube channel, and jazz is still the heartbeat of my soul—a music that has shaped my life and continues to sustain me. But this blog is more than just an extension of that passion. It’s a lifeline, a space where I confront the ideas, issues, and battles that feel as vital to me as breath itself. While jazz remains central, this blog dives into the subjects that keep me awake at night and drive me forward each day.
For eighteen years, I was the Jazz Video Guy on YouTube and Facebook, sharing over 2,500 videos and amassing nearly 50 million views. The channel is still up and running, a testament to my love for jazz. But when I moved to Mexico, my creative focus expanded. I began writing and making films about the issues that deeply matter to me.
Not everyone came along for the ride. I’ve lost subscribers—many, I suspect, because of my politics. One former friend even sent me a furious Facebook message, accusing me of betraying my roots as a Jew whose family fled Eastern Europe to build a life in the U.S., and claiming I had no right to criticize the country. It stung, but it also reminded me why these conversations are so important. Jazz is still my foundation, but life demands more than just music. It demands honesty.
I have to write the truth as I see it. Speaking out is the only power I have in today’s world. Though I’m an expat, I’m still tied to the United States, and I’m deeply upset about what’s happening in the land of my birth. I can’t stay silent. From my perspective, I have no choice.
History is littered with the crushed bodies and shattered reputations of those brave (or foolish) enough to speak truths others didn’t want to hear. Picture Galileo, the OG scientific whistleblower, who dared to say, “Hey, maybe the Earth isn’t the VIP lounge of the universe.” For his trouble, the Church slammed him with heresy charges, proving that even 17th-century cancel culture had some bite. The poor guy spent the rest of his life under house arrest, essentially grounded by God’s PR team for pointing out an inconvenient truth.
Fast forward to the 1960s, and you’ve got Martin Luther King Jr., who stood on the pulpit of morality and said, “Equality isn’t a luxury; it’s a damn right.” For that audacity, a nation fractured by racism branded him a communist, a radical, and worse. And when they couldn’t drown out his words with slander, they silenced him with a bullet. Today, people slap his quotes on Instagram without considering how little has actually changed since his marches.
Then there’s Rachel Carson, the quiet revolutionary who made corporate America squirm by exposing the chemical industry’s dirty secrets in Silent Spring. Carson wasn’t just labeled an alarmist; she was branded a hysterical woman—a sexist favorite that’s still trotted out when powerful people feel threatened by facts. She proved that pesticides weren’t just bug-killers but eco-apocalypse in a spray bottle, paving the way for the modern environmental movement. Now, her ghost probably rolls its eyes at climate change deniers who haven’t learned a damn thing.
This isn’t just historical trivia; it’s a mirror to today’s world. Think whistleblowers exposing corruption, scientists warning about the planet frying, or journalists unearthing political scandals. The script hasn’t changed: speak an inconvenient truth, and watch the powerful swarm like hornets with a PR budget. Whether you’re blowing the lid off Big Oil, Big Pharma, or Big Brother, the lesson remains: telling the truth is a revolutionary act—and revolutions, my friend, don’t come cheap.
Closer to home, speaking out can cost relationships and reputations. Today, calling out systemic racism or economic inequality can result in being branded “unpatriotic” or “divisive.” Those who speak up about climate change are mocked by denialists, while whistleblowers exposing corruption or abuse of power often face professional ruin or exile.
Like many, I’ve largely stopped following the news since November 6th. The future of the United States over the next four years looks grim. Those in power are, for the most part incompetent, selfish fools. The burden will fall heavily on women, who will lose total control of their bodies, poor people, and people of color. Meanwhile, Bezos, Zuckerberg, and Musk will continue to thrive, owning more wealth than the bottom 50% of Americans combined. It’s a stark and troubling example of wealth inequality that affects everyone on the planet, except the rich.
I’m not going to stop what I’m doing. Subscriber numbers or the modest income from this blog aren’t what drives me. Angry responses and lost followers are part of the price one pays for speaking the truth. I don’t consider the negative feedback a personal attack. I welcome divergent opinions.
It’s my truth and the need to speak it, that motivates my work. Humanity, honesty, and compassion—values I find largely absent in America today—are what matter. And if history has taught me anything, it’s that speaking truth in the face of denial is not only necessary, but it’s also one of the most powerful acts of resistance we have.
For more on this subject, check out this Deep Dive:
Well said, my friendcI am in total agreement. All we can do is speak our truth loudly and clearly, especilly since protesting here can get us deported.
Advice for those who find Bret's opinions not in lockstep with their own to be intolerable: 1) Unsubscribe sans lecture. 2) Start your own Substack, lecture all you want, and straighten out the world.
Dear Bret, you need not defend your views. Keep sharing them until the coming administration criminalizes free speech. And then, continue speaking your mind.