Respect, between individuals, also between society and institutions, is the cement of social structure. When respect erodes, chaos follows. The principle of this sounds alarms when a group claims to uphold tradition flouts laws, norms, and human decency. If they refuse to earn respect, society has no obligation to grant it in return, and when you’re dealin’ with so-called religious folk, especially those in a cult, you’ll see a hella’ amount of Christian Superiority Complex. This is when a certain group or individuals as well who claim to possess exclusive access to truth or salvation, and trust me when I say, these peeps’ have the most inflated sense of self you’ll ever come across. Christians on steroids, if you will.

From vaccine defiance, buggy laws, to abuse cover-up, the Amish continue to show us that they do not respect any law or rule that requires them to show any grace, humility, or inclination that they’re law-abiding citizens, not to mention defying the very essence of who they claim to be as a people. Not only do they believe the laws don’t apply to them, most of them also have Christian Superiority Complex so bad that Pfizer should make a vaccine for it! Of course, they wouldn’t take it, because anything that makes them more bearable is something they just ain’t gonna’ get on board with, and will claim religious exemption.

In communities where Amish reside, the people of that area are expected to change how they move about in order to suit “the Amish culture,” such as watchin’ out for buggies when that oftentimes means risking their own lives. Many times, especially early mornings and evenings, these buggies are on the road, and they are pitch black, all because they don’t want to add sufficient lighting for others to see them, as if they want to get hit, but they’ll always claim religious regurgitation when the officials, judges, or whomever, requests or attempts to change the law requiring them to have more lights on their apparatus.

Ohio Revised Code Section 4513.114 states that:

(A) Except as otherwise provided in division (D) of this section, no person shall operate an animal-drawn vehicle on a street or highway unless it is equipped with and displays, at the times specified in section 4513.03 of the Revised Code, both of the following

(1) At least one lamp displaying a white light visible from a distance of not less than one thousand feet to the front of the animal-drawn vehicle

(2) Two lamps displaying red light visible from a distance of not less than one thousand feet to the rear of the animal-drawn vehicle, or as an alternative, one lamp displaying a red light visible from a distance of not less than one thousand feet to the rear and two red reflectors visible from all distances of six hundred feet to one hundred feet to the rear when illuminated by the lawful lower beams of headlamps.

And the list goes on… However, do you think the Amish are adhering to this? Some are and actually implemented their own safety procedures before being asked to, such as Holmes County, but the Swartzentruber Amish, the lowest order, are the dirtiest, dustiest, and let’s face it, more ignorant portion of the Amish groups and flat out refuse to do anything law abiding and they hate the people and place of Holmes County because they are more modern and CLEAN. I can one thing about most of Holmes County that I’ve seen, it’s picture perfect. The homes are well kempt, the children look happier as they ride around on their pastel-colored scooters and wave at you as you pass. The first time I ever went there was to drop my nephew Michael off to his mother. Well, nephew by marriage, but I adore him, and would kick somebody’s ass for him, so he’s my peoples. Michael and I stopped at the discount grocery where the things weren’t truly outdated, they had freezers and selection and hell, even make-up and Michael, in his five-year-old naivety asked me if I was gonna’ buy everything in the store and I said “Michael, have we met? Of course I am! Now start gettin’ stuff.” I don’t understand why most Amish communities can’t be this clean and pleasing. Hell, why can’t we clean up most of America, because our country has gone to squalor and nobody cares about how things look anymore, so I can’t say that’s an Amish thing, but I can say it’s a Swartzentruber Amish thang, because they be livin’ filthy.

How often do you see them pickin’ up their horse shit off the road? However, if there is a festival or parade and someone rides a horse, they are required to pick it up and forced to sign a paper stating as much. So, why aren’t the Amish forced to scoop up their massive dung droppings? Just like they aren’t keepin’ the lights and other safety measures on these buggies but still driving them in the dark putting not only themselves and most likely a passel of kids, but others who aren’t expecting to crash into a pitch-black apparatus with no business on the fucking road!

So, I ask you, why are we, the non-Amish, automatically required to give them grace, respect, or free passes when their world isn’t the majority. They escaped to Pennsylvania from religious persecution from their homelands, but all they’ve done is create an attitude of condescension as if we OWE them special favor, when in fact, they claim to be un-secular, when in fact, they are. While they give the illusion they live by the bible, riddle me this, if it was written by man, does that not make it worldly? It tells of Stories from long ago, but still yet, it was written by regular men by their own accounts, and not from the source itself, Jesus. If Jesus wanted the story told, why did he not write it? Moreso, it’s been revamped, rewritten, translated the most popular version of the King James was introduced by its namesake, King James, who was a murderer, a homosexual, and fraudster. Everything the Christians claim to be against yet live by his word. I might also add that King James wrote a book on Demonology before translating this righteous book which was only to behoove him for the order of the day. In 1597 King James I wrote Demonology about his beliefs in Satan and witches, because he felt he was a victim of witchcraft. Of course, he wanted to command his post as King, that’s why he had his own mama beheaded, and commenced to having all witches killed because he thought they posed a threat, but if you’re a believer in the Almighty God, why would you be scared of witches, better yet, if you thought God created the heavens and the earth, why did he believe that witches controlled storms? I’d suggest reading Daemonologie, his book, and see the mindset of the man whom you’ve really been basing your life upon. King James was a violent and manipulative ruler who commissioned the bible for his own personal gain, because he knew how to use religion as a weapon, and he was not wrong in his vision. Look at the world today, it’s still being used as a weapon today, that is what church is about. Control. It has given folks a sense that there is a grand plan, that there is method to the madness, and in the end, abusers will get punished. Certainty is comforting. People have been trained to think that they are living for an end goal, that when they depart this earth, they’ll walk on some golden roads, meet Jesus (which isn’t his name by the way, but somehow has become his name like some hillbilly nickname), and for what? Because people can’t stand the thought of just being dead and rotting away in a box, and not just a box, but a $5-10,000 coffin with all the bells and whistles. What the hell are we really doing, and why are we burying people in what is essentially a new car or possibly a house in certain areas. The irony is, many people spend more money on their funeral than they did living, and I know this after working in insurance for many years. They scrimp and save to pay for funeral insurance while nickel and diming their life away in a run-down single wide eating Vienna sausage, just so they can sleep at well at night knowin’ their departure is paid for and they’ll go out in style. Um, okay. I’ll write the policy, cause’ they’re gonna’ get it with somebody, so I might as well be the one to sell it to them. All in the name of religion, because they’ve been sold the idea that the hard times meant something, when in reality, the hard times only meant they made some fucked up decisions along the way and nobody came to save them.

Let’s talk about the Amish. Not the butter churnin’, pie bakin’, suspenders-and-bonnet fantasy folks like to peddle in Hallmark movies, but the real deal, the buggy ridin’, abuse hidin’, rule-bendin’ folks who conveniently redefine “God’s will” when it suits their needs.

See, it ain’t about stayin’ in the 1700s. It’s about control, plain and simple. Because if the Good Lord really didn’t want you in a car, why y’all ridin’ shotgun in rented vans headed to chiropractor appointments six states away? Why are the Swartzentrubers, the “purest” of the bunch, pilin’ into rented buses like it’s a field trip to weddins’ or latest court case against an Amish to show support for the abuser? I’ll tell you why: Justification. Now, speakin’ of abusers, let’s talk about Samuel Hochstetler for a moment.

Samuel Hochstetler, an 18-year-old Amish man who moved from Kentucky to Rutland, Ohio the fall of 2024, has been indicted for the rape, kidnapping, strangulation, and murder of 28-year-old Rosanna Kinsinger, a beloved member of the same community (YouTube, People.com) Samuel raped, kidnapped, and murdered Rosanna, in her home on March 13, 2025 where her body was found naked, lifeless, and shockingly, but not shockingly, next to a goat. (WSAZ)(People) They finally located and arrested Samuel after weeks of police work, search warrants, and a lot of interviews, including tips from various people, so he was finally arrested on Cinco De Mayo, 05.05.2025 and rightfully so, held on a one-million-dollar bond. Of course, he pleaded not-guilty, even though he’s confessed. At least, confessed his version of the story. Ol’ Samuel has already been labeled a sexually violent predator and indicted him on aggravated murder with sexual motivation, so he’s facing life without parole. Court records show that he’s confessed to covering her head with a blanket while they had sex and when he rolled her over, she was dead. HUH? Why would you be covering her head with a blanket, and if it were consensual she would have taken the blanket off at some point if she couldn’t breathe! Did he not know the difference in having sex with someone not movin’ and clearly dead as opposed to a willing participant? Consent usually doesn’t come with force or fatal outcomes, unless you’re Amish apparently.

Was this a ritual like some people are sayin’? Were there others involved? Rumors say this wasn’t his first round of predatory behavior and that his siblings and possibly others have been assaulted by him, and his relocation to Ohio was just an Amish tactic to bury his “transgressions” and avoid confrontation from KSP and others. Now, his mama wasn’t interrogated much on 04.30.2020 when she had a buggy accident that killed five of her children during a flash flooding accident just down the road from us in Pea Sticks, Kentucky. Ol’ Susie was pregnant at the time and even though she had six more kids at one and one in the oven, she decided to take these chillins’ out for a Wednesday stroll in flash flooding weather which took all of their lives, except hers and the horses, because when you’re Amish, it’s SAVE yourself and fuck the rest. Did she really think those kids would be alive when she returned? Just your normal patterns in this culture. She wouldn’t’ do anything to help save her kids that she shouldn’t have had out in the storm but wants everyone else to come and do it for her, knowin’ what the outcome was going to be. These children don’t get pool days like most kids, so they aren’t proficient at swimmin’. I guess the vast donations the Hochstetlers would receive afterwards helped them get past all that trauma, but even though the money bubbled to the surface, an investigation never did. These sympathy funds allocated to nothin’ more than a silence fund.

Now, Rosanna’s father has stated that he forgives Samuel, but how and why? Does he think his forgiveness should block justice? Or does it shield a deeper shame, secrets, or complicity? Hesitance to demand answers whispers louder than his words, and perhaps more was done to Rosanna in her life by others and they don’t want the bishop’s veil of forgiveness having them donned with silver bracelets and sittin’ next to Samuel, where a lot of them need to be.

Yet, here we are, with Samuel and others who sit or have sat in his position with legions of defenders, many who travel from far and wide to sit behind him and demand his release (because of their faith and how they handle their own problems). The imbalance speaks volumes about whose stories get told, and what gets buried in this culture. Trauma holding fast under holy silence. Are the Hochstetler’s funding any of their son’s defense with money from the murder (allegedly) of those five innocent kids who were casualties because of their mama’s ignorance? Will anyone ever be held accountable for that, or accountable for the lack of investigating simply because they were Amish. Also, what about the accountability for these drivers, the community enablers who keep those like Samuel movin’ across state lines helping commit crimes, either knowingly or otherwise. Also, who allowed Samuel to get a fuckin’ Amish haircut while in jail, when most people can’t even get a toothbrush? Should we hold local and state police for not doin’ their job? Without askin’ questions, how can they label this a natural accident? Where was she going? Why did she only have those kids and not the others? Where was her husband? Why didn’t she attempt to save any? There are many questions that should have been asked, whether it was an accident or not, because the truth may have prevailed and those children would have gotten some “justice.” Not really, but at least the Hochstetler’s wouldn’t have kicked back and lived lavish on ill-gotten gains. Maybe they would have been placed exactly where they belong, and I say they because I’m sure, to some degree, she didn’t act alone.

All I know is… Rosanna is dead, her story will get robbed if we allow it, and her humanity erased in the name of cultural optics, but I won’t let it if I can help it. The Amish are always gonna’ whisper ‘forgiveness’ like it’s holy, and only when it applies to them, but damn if they don’t bury more bodies than bones in their holy grounds. Samuel was one of Susie’s surviving children, but why did she keep him and didn’t feel the others were worth savin’? What was the catalyst that forced his trajectory to Ohio? Did his abuse towards his siblings and others get too unbearable?

They lost five children, called it an ‘act of God,’ and waved the hats for donations. No questions asked, just prayers recorded, and sympathy dollars counted. That same mother’s child later drags a woman’s body into display in another state, and the world sees a monster in a straw hat. When the silence around a tragedy is deafening, you can bet the hypocrisy is drowning in money and fear, not grief. Amen to that they probably say right before they make another one and keep on sexin’, with no cares about the rest of the world, so long as they’re respected and left alone.

Did Susie Hochstetler ever stop for one single breath and wonder what it felt like for her babies, five innocent children, to drown one by one in the ragin’ Licking River that April day? Did she feel the terror in their lungs as the buggy overturned in water that had no business being crossed? Did she cry out in panic or plead to Heaven as their tiny hands slipped away from hers?

Or did she just walk her dry-ass self to a neighbor’s, call the cops, and let everyone else do the hard part, dig through the cold, muddy current for the bodies she helped put in that water? Volunteers dropped everything, farmers, retirees, good-hearted people from miles around, to search for kids they never met. They felt for her. They mourned beside her. They showed up in droves to donate, pray, cook, and comfort. But she? She went home. She rested while they reeled.

And after all that? After standing in the ashes of what should have been a reckoning, she still sent that demon spawn son of hers out into another community. Didn’t blink. Didn’t warn a soul. Didn’t stand ten toes down and say, “My son has problems.” Nah, she unleashed him like a rabid dog from a leaky cage. Because see, the only thing that ever drowns in the Amish world is accountability, and now, Rosanna Kinsinger is dead.

Naked. Broken. Strangled. Left like trash. That’s what Samuel Hochstetler did to her. And his handlers, yeah, Pea Sticks, Kentucky, this includes you, knew. You heard the whispers. You knew he had dark urges, and you passed him along like a hot potato. You didn’t cleanse his soul; you cleansed your conscience. Moved him out of the Commonwealth and into Meigs County, Ohio like he was just another quilt to fold away. But that quilt had stains you didn’t dare scrub.

Where’s the remorse now? Where’s the survivor’s guilt, Susie? You watched those search teams break their backs for your kids, and instead of standin’ up and sayin’, “No more death will follow this house,” you gave evil a greenlight and a Greyhound ticket. Well, not so much a Greyhound as it was a corrupt driver willin’ to help share your pedophile son with the world and take Rosanna’s life.

You don’t get to play grieving mother when your silence made you a murderer-by-proxy. You don’t get sympathy when your choices helped bury someone else’s daughter. And to all you cloak-wearin’, lie-totin’, bishop-pleasin’, law-evadin’ cowards who covered for him?

While his siblings died in a flood, he lived, and later accused of monstrous crimes, remaining a shadow on the family history, and since the Amish are notorious for writing those who dare to leave, out of the family books, I wonder if they think of doin’ that for all the predators.

CONTROL-JUSTIFICATION-FORGIVE AND FORGET…. The Cult of Silent Compliance.

Forgive and forget, they preach it like a sermon, but it’s really just spiritual whiplash. It’s the leash they put on you to keep you quiet, compliant, and too tired to notice the hypocrisy dripping off every dirty beard and transitional lens.

Look at the Amish. They bend God’s rules faster than they crank up a van engine. Can’t drive? Fine. But you can rent a bus and ride six hours to Mexico for Ketamine (Katie). You don’t own a car, but you’ll ride in one. You don’t have electricity? Sure, you do, your batteries power your solar, or you run a drop cord from the neighbors, but the bill ain’t in their name so it’s considered Godly.

That ain’t devotion. It’s cognitive dissonance served in suspenders. They’re not chasing God’s grace, they’re chasin’ the bishop’s approval, and most of them ain’t worth chasin’ cause most of them aint worth a nickel.

Remember Salem, Massachusetts? A handful of girls pointed fingers, and Bam!, people burned. No proof. No justice. One prominent man’s wife accused and game over. The witch trials ended on a dime.

That’s Amish logic in town form. Throw enough suspicion at you, call it God, convicted. And when someone quotes the Bible to clear their name, they say Satan’s playin’ you, or in their words, you have a new belief. Much like the Amish were back in the day, they have delusions of grandeur about God, their culture, right and wrong, religion, and basically every fucking thing else there is because the Amish would fuck up a free jelly sandwich when it comes to doin’ the right thing. Lunacy in a bonnet and about 247,000 pins.

I often find myself thinkin’ ’bout Ada, the walkin’, talkin’ portrait of passive aggression in barefeet. Ada’s my Amish sister-in-law, livin’ just five minutes down the gravel road, but chile’, she might as well be orbitin’ Saturn, cause we ain’t exactly exchangin’ casseroles or warm welcomes and I wouldn’t trust what came outta’ her kitchen anyway, not ‘cause she can’t cook, but because food made in cold silence and judgement always leaves a bitter aftertaste, much like arsenic.

Now, Ada plays team Amish like it’s the Super Bowl, fully decked in delusion and justification, wielding a kind of nonsensical reasoning that’ll make your blood pressure jump a notch just listenin’. But beneath her “plain and humble” act lies a buried truth, homegirl got some bones to pick with her own kind. You don’t help your ex-Amish brother get back control of the property if you ain’t harborin’ a little resentment of your own. And she helped alright. She tiptoed through them family politics like a seasoned dancer at a Mardi Gras ball and orchestrated the whole transfer like she was settlin’ a backwoods estate dispute with grace and grit. I was almost proud of her, until I wasn’t.

See, the property, Emmie’s property, had been hijacked in broad daylight by his ex and the Amish crew that backed her, all while reapin’ the rewards of E & E Metal, the very business he bled for. Personally, I would’ve blown the whistle and taken it all to court, but let’s not pretend the courts around here ain’t just another profit-pullin’ puppet show. Family court ain’t justice, it’s theater, one that charges a hefty ticket at the door, especially when the Amish have backroom handshakes and dusty-under-the-rug deals with the sheriff, the judge, and probably the town clerk’s cousin. (Allegedly)

So, instead of fightin’ a stacked deck, we played smarter. And Ada, of all people, was the key. She got Emmie’s ex to sign over whatever paper trail still bore her name, and let me tell you, that woman never made a single payment on either property. Not one. She thought she’d walk off with a check, half the pie, and no taxes. But baby, that oven don’t bake no more. She wanted it sold so she could cash in and her thirsty brother-in-law she was knockin’ boots with was salivating to get control of the money, but Ada knew how to finesse her into handin’ it over, especially since taxes were callin’ and she didn’t have a dime or a receipt to answer back. Hell, her community probably expected a little bit of their nut back after financing her pity tour in the family court system, and they thought they were gonna’ sit back and cash in, but by that point, I had money invested, and those hoes weren’t gettin’ my fuckin’ money. I’ll leave a bitch starvin’ in the ditch for what she did, how she acted, and how she continues to act still.

Ada, bless her backhanded little heart, got that deed done. And while I question every smile that she throws our way, even I have to tip my wide-brimmed hat at the fact that, for whatever reason, resentment, guilt, truth, or just playin’ her own long game, she made sure Emmie got what was his. And that, baby, is a receipt I’ll fold and keep in my vintage clutch, right next to the peppermints and the past due bill of what the Amish still owe us. I count every dime and every sin, it’s my life’s mission.

Now let me tell y’all somethin’ plain, and I’ll say it slow for the ones in the back still clingin’ to their bibles and blindfolds: once those properties were signed over, they thought Emmie was comin’ back to the fold, like he’d forgotten all the blood, all the lies, all the crimes. The audacity drips off ’em like hog sweat in August. Utterly jingle-bread in their delusions, and for as smart as they think they are, they are easily misled.

It was never just about the land. It was about liberation, cuttin’ ties with a past soaked in sin and trafficking. A past riddled with child abuse, forced labor, arranged marriage, a grooming mother-in-law who took his virginity and his peace, then forced to marry her daughter whom he can barely remember because they never had anything to say to each other. That man didn’t walk away from his ex for a mortgage or a moment of peace. He walked away because the woman would rather shield a predator than share custody of her own kids. That ain’t co-parentin’, that’s weaponizin’ motherhood and her so-called religion that is out her taunting and promoting “Family” and “Doin’ the Lord’s work” and the whole damn cult stood behind her like it was Sunday service. These women aren’t havin’ kids, they’re havin’ slaves, because once that kid pops out the V-Hole, it’s not a child, it’s property and they immediately start training it to do the job they should be doin’.

But here’s the kicker, they thought he’d come runnin’ back. Thought that because he loves his kids, he’d swallow every slice of betrayal like stale communion and just return to the table, the same table she was already setting a place for with his name on it, and for some reason another place for a miscarriage she had in 2018, but that’s a whole other issue that has nothin’ to do with us and everything to do with her mental state, but in proverbial terms, the same table where his own family sat grinnin’ with dirty hands and secrets they never planned to clean, just more lies they’d compile and expect everyone to “Forgive and Forget.” Wrong! We don’t forgive or forget shit around hereah!

Pedophiles don’t deserve a second chance. They deserve a shallow grave.
You don’t get to “forgive and forget” when a child’s body was the battlefield.

That’s what they preach though. Sweep it all up under the Ordnung rug and call it “God’s Will.” But ain’t nothin’ divine about protecting a predator and damn sure nothin’ holy about sayin’, “Well, he didn’t penetrate, so it don’t count.” You tellin’ me that was the detective’s response? KSP’s badge must stand for Keep Shuttin’ up, Pervs, ‘cause they sure ain’t protectin’ nothin’ but their own asses.

And that leads me right back to Ada, dear, deluded Ada. She actually had the gall to act like Emmie was her property, leavin’ voicemails like she expected me to “drop him off” like a loaf of sourdough and a gallon of milk. No ma’am. I wouldn’t drop a dog off at her house, not even one that bit me, ‘cause there’s no tellin’ if it’d come back raped, poisoned, or baptized in bleach. I guess that’s why they were forced to hire an Amish professional to come break into our house and attempt to kidnap him, leastwise, that’s what the Amish told the police, that I was holdin’ him hostage. I know that if we weren’t leavin’ in the next few days and had packed up our firearms, his ass would have looked a lil’ different when he jumped in Jim Hunt’s truck headin’ back to Tilton. It would have had a few more holes in it for his boys in the barn to fiddle with.

Ada’s married to a porn-hungry sadist (allegedly, but y’all know where there’s smoke, there’s whole damn brimstone), and she plays the part of the dutiful womb-renter, poppin’ out kids not for love but for labor, because whenever religion is involved, especially hardcore cult-like behavior, it’s always oppressive to women. Somehow, these junkies think it’s their biblical duty to populate the earth, but what they don’t understand is, WE HAVE ENOUGH INBREDS AND ISSUES IN THIS MOTHERFUCKER, WE DON’T NEED EM DRESSED UP LIKE ROGUE QUAKERS!

Women’s bodies ain’t their own, they’re currency in a cult economy. Girls grow up to be birth machines. Boys get callouses before they get common sense. And the only thing that gets protected in that house is the predator’s reputation. Why are women required to cover up their bodies while the men are freer? Men are the ones makin’ the rules, women should wear boob coverings, long sleeves, keep your ankles from showing with some hot-ass black socks all year long, but let’s ignore the fact that they’re rippin’ the clothes off little girls and boys every chance they get in order to rape and sodomize them, but God forbid you have a pin out of place or a wrinkled bonnet. GTFOH with all that mess! I’d take a shit in that bonnet and send it to the bishop for observation like a damn Cologuard test. Women, regardless of culture, should not be suffering because they’re somehow responsible for a man’s lust. I’m sorry if my ankles give you a chubby, ya’ sick sonofabitch, how bout’ you go get a lobotomy and kiss my ass on the way out the door! Ya’ soft-brained prick!

Y’all don’t want to talk about how Amish women are raised to suffer, to equate pain with piety. You don’t wanna’ talk about how home births are forced under threat of shame, attended by folks like Anna, the bishop’s wife, and Sam Miller’s lady who ain’t no midwife, just a self-proclaimed cervix-whisperer. Or how Vivian Barnes, bless her clueless heart, nearly cost Christian his life and the mother who bore him, when she pretended a veterinarian’s touch was enough to usher a soul into the world. That woman almost bled out before they dumped her like a bag of potatoes at Meadowview’s back door without mentioning the part they played in her suffering, the illegal activity they partook in, or the $25,000 bill that came afterward that even Amish Aid wouldn’t help pay. All because this culture thinks they have the divine right to dictate how many kids someone has, where they have them, and where they do to deliver them if that becomes “necessary.” When it’s necessary from the beginning, from first trimester to last.

And let’s talk about Meadowview, the hospital with its backroom handshake “agreements” that let the Amish slip in, bleed out, and disappear with no reports, no records, no questions. They’ve delivered babies, watched women hemorrhage, and turned a blind eye to death because callin’ the coroner might mean callin’ the cops, and we all know they don’t want that.

You and me? We’d be jailed for a tenth of what they get away with. But the Amish? They refuse Social Security numbers for their kids, until tax season rolls around. Then suddenly, they got that paperwork ready quicker than you can say Audit. But they don’t love money, right? Ha! They love it more than their own blood. They just hide it better and that child will never know about a card or have access to that or their birth certificate, even if they leave, because the Amish don’t want them to have anything easy, and they damn sure don’t want their best employees leavin’! Nah, they will say adios, you ain’t gettin’ shit and we’re still gonna’ claim you as a dependent and take this money we claim we don’t take from a government we don’t need.

So no, Ada. No cult. No ex. No dusty bootlickin’ brother.
Ain’t nobody comin’ back to your lion’s den. Not now and not ever, and FYI, that miscarried situation ain’t comin’ back either, so you might want to inform somebody about that. Emmie ain’t y’all’s pawn. He ain’t your patriarch.
So, make it how ya’ make it, or starve to death, nobody cares!

Spit your forgiveness until your throat bleeds. It won’t clean the barns they hide in. They sold Jesus for silence and called it salvation. Their murderers walk free so long as the rotted teeth glint under a black hat. Truth don’t need your bones to be buried. Speak it. Tell it. Let Sinai thunder in every church they build.

Let me tell you somethin’, this ain’t just about busted car doors or solar panels. No ma’am. This goes deeper than that. We are talkin’ about a generational pattern of justifying the unjustifiable, and religious folks, yes, all of ‘em, have mastered the art. They can twist scripture tighter than a jar lid in July to excuse sexual abuse, domestic violence, medical neglect, and lawd’ knows what else. But the truth is, they’ve only gotten away with it because the government’s been walking on eggshells around their so-called “rights” while our rights get trampled like wildflowers under a buggy wheel, and do you know why, because religion and government go hand in hand. Religion is always tied to politics, as we’ve seen and what goes on behind closed doors. They use their belief to run the political party. Religion and politics are two sides of the same coin. Besides the Amish potentially being a government experiment (allegedly), they donate money and workin’ behind the scenes

Now let’s talk respect, because we’re told to give it, but rarely see it returned. We’re expected to slow down on the road, adjust our lives, hold our tongues, and clean up after other people’s mess, literal and figurative. Just yesterday, we left a friend’s house in a nice lil’ neighborhood, and what do we find? A big ol’ pile of horseshit smack in the middle of the road. And no, this wasn’t out in the sticks, this was in town. That’s not culture, that’s disrespect. That’s the Amish spendin’ their free time comin’ to town lookin’ for yard sales and going to the doctor, then pullin’ up in line at the Mcdonalds to get an ice cream cone and not givin’ a damn about their big pile of oil leak comin’ out of their Pontiac, aka, horse’s ass.

I know Amish drivers, and I can tell you straight, they don’t treat your car like somethin’ that costs money, time, and pride. No ma’am, these half-raised heathens weren’t raised to respect things that don’t belong to them. They’ll swing on the doors, climb on the seats like it’s a hayloft, and look you dead in the eye like it’s normal. Because in their world, compliance is the only value. Sit down, shut up, work till ya’ drop, and ask no questions. That’s the code. I know my stepkids tried that mess and thought they were gonna’ listen to the Amish and tear some shit up, but I shut that down quick, fast, and in a hurry. That’s what you’re not gonna’ do around here, but I knew it would take time, because they were raised to have home-training. They were raised to tear shit up, break what was given to them or what their mama didn’t sell, and then before somebody comes to visit, grab a broom and sweep all that shit up in a pile. That’s probably why they don’t have carpet, cause’ it would really be stankin’ in there!

But when you build a culture around silence, around compliance, around turnin’ the other cheek until your neck snaps, atrocities don’t just slip through, they settle in, and if you dare speak up? Oh, now you’re the problem. You’re the “hater.” Well, baby, call me the villain, pour me a bourbon, and light me a candle, ‘cause I ain’t changin’.

It’s time somebody told the truth without sugarcoating it. If the Amish want to be out here mingling with the modern world, they best bring more than their wares, they better bring respect, accountability, and a damn broom.

You want to be in society? Then act like it.
Or take it on back behind the barn and get your house in order.

You think it’s tradition? No. It’s a GENERATIONAL CRIMINAL ENTERPRISE that got so comfortable abusing, isolating, trafficking, and exploiting its own that it turned into a normalized routine. Like brushing teeth… oh wait, they don’t do that either. They hate education because an educated mind can’t be owned. It starts asking questions, starts saying “hell no,” starts blowing the whistle. And the Amish don’t want that. They want quiet. They want obedience. They want submission, like every authoritarian regime in history.

You wanna see the blueprint for “forgive and forget”? Don’t go diggin’ in your Bible. That little ditty ain’t even in there. Nope. It’s a literary proverb, honey. Shakespeare used it. So did Cervantes in Don Quixote. Even Gandhi gave it a spin, sayin’, “The stupid neither forgive nor forget; the naive forgive and forget; the wise forgive, but never forget.”

But what do the Amish say?
If you don’t forgive and forget, you take on the sin of the one who hurt you, so not only do you get abused, but you also get gaslit and disrespected to the highest power. What kind of twisted spiritual blackmail is that?

It’s emotional slavery disguised as sanctity. It’s spiritual manipulation in a damn straw hat. And if you speak out about it? You’re the one with the “rebellious spirit.” The troublemaker. The “worldly” one. The shunned.

But funny how quick they’ll call the police when you hurt their feelings or step on their property. Ain’t you supposed to love your neighbor? Or does that only apply to the people wearing Amish-approved colors?

Let me make this plain: if you need a holy book to tell you not to rape, murder, or abuse your child, you ain’t spiritual, you’re dangerous. Most good people don’t need a leather-bound book of letters and poems to know how to treat each other. The truth is, we’re born with a conscience, but religion teaches us how to ignore it for the sake of obedience.

And let’s not forget the god complex that comes with religion.
God loves you, but if you don’t follow every command, you’re goin’ to hell.
God forgives, but not until you forgive the man who raped you at seven.
God is perfect but makes imperfect people just to test them like some sick science experiment, then have them out here being complete fucking dicks and sadistic torturers that the rest of us are forced to endure.
God is love, unless you’re gay, divorced, or questioning the whole damn setup.

So, when people say, “Live like God,” you better ask yourself:
Which version?
The one who flooded the earth?
The one who hardened Pharaoh’s heart so he could flex his wrath?
The one who sacrificed his son to “save” the world he created broken in the first place? That ain’t love. That’s control with a halo. Much like how the BORN AGAIN peeps hate on the ones who ain’t stepped in a boat, or out of a boat, or what the hell ever they do with a boat, I thought God was walkin’ on water any damn way! But those born-again people are a gang on their own, they will critique everything you do to THEIR standards and will let you know when THEY think you are worthy of kickin’ it in the make-believe place everybody is going. Like the damn usher for the afterworld, but you must be born again.

Meanwhile, you got Amish bishops sendin’ abuse survivors back into the same barn they were assaulted in, tellin’ them it’s God’s will.
You got people dying from preventable illnesses because antibiotics ain’t “plain” enough.
You got children gettin’ raped by their uncles while the community prays it away in silence.
And you got entire counties bowin’ down to these buggies like they’re the Pope on wheels. Enough.

The rest of us ain’t gotta respect a lifestyle that protects predators and shames survivors.
We don’t owe respect to any “culture” that denies education, withholds medical care, and labels critical thinking as rebellion.
You can call it “God’s will,” but I call it willful ignorance and systemic abuse.

Let’s stop pretending this is about holiness.
It’s about power.
It’s about image.
It’s about preservation of a fantasy that was never rooted in righteousness, and most importantly, it’s about using religion to live a nasty, vile life behind those primitive outdated blue curtains. Like what, Jesus won’t let you into heaven if you swag some Restoration Hardware curtains? No, they must be see-through so the other derelict Amish peeps can come look into your window any time they want to see what the hell you’re doin’!

• The Amish & Sexual Abuse: PBS Frontline Investigation
• Ex-Amish woman speaks out: “I was molested, told to forgive” – NBC
• Amish turning to chiropractors for everything from infertility to migraines often without medical oversight – Journal of Rural Health

Wanna know what forgiveness really looks like?
It’s healing when you’re ready, not when they demand it and you don’t need no damn straw hat cult, preacher’s permission, or dog-eared Bible to tell you that. 🔥

The respect economy is broken. It’s bankrupt. And guess who’s overdrafting it the most? These plain-clothed predators who want all the perks of the modern world but none of the accountability. You can’t have it both ways. You don’t get tax breaks, EBT, religious exemption, and zero compliance with the law. That’s not freedom. That’s fraud.

And here’s the sickest part: We, the general public, have been the quiet enablers. Because of the repercussions we face if we dare to say something to these “Holy” assholes. Our politeness. Our ignorance. Our desire to not look “judgmental.” F**k that. These children are being abused, raped, denied medical care, denied knowledge, and we’re supposed to sit back because their pies are tasty and their lifestyle “looks peaceful” on Hallmark?

Let me ask you this:
If this were a Black neighborhood, a Latino family, or hell, YOU, doing half the shit they do, would they let you walk?
HELL NO. You’d be under the jail. So why the religious pass, especially when it’s NOT a religion, but merely a fucked-up way of life.

This culture has weaponized obedience and stamped it with God’s name. But their God ain’t mine. And my God don’t let little girls get raped in silence while the community prays it away. My God will kick their God’s ass and not think twice about it.

This whole thing is a tower of lies, and the only way to fix it is to bring the whole rotten structure crashing to the ground, every weak beam, every crooked wall, every corrupt official and cowardly judge who looked the other way, because you can’t rebuild justice on a cracked-ass foundation.

No respect? No order. No accountability? No peace.

Burn it down.
Then start again, with truth, with protection, with people who give a damn.

And to survivors reading this: We see you. We believe you. We are NOT afraid. Let’s RAISE SOME HELL!!!!

Refusing health mandates or basic safety laws (like buggy lights, vaccination, sanitary food handling) shifts from religious conviction to dereliction of civic duty.

True respect and integration require reciprocity: follow social rules, contribute to the community’s well-being, and be accountable, especially when vulnerable people (like children) are involved. It is necessary to have respect. No respect, no order.

So, let’s take a holy pause, not the kind that keeps folks silent in the face of evil, but the kind that makes heaven lean in and hell get nervous. Let’s take a real moment to think about respect, and let’s say her name: Rosanna. A young woman whose life was stolen, not just by the hands of Samuel Hochstetler, but by a whole system that let him slide long before her body ever hit the ground.

This man, this demon in suspenders, wasn’t born in a vacuum. No, he came from a place where his mother did the unspeakable and got paid for it and instead of steppin’ in and stopping the sickness, they turned their heads and covered their eyes in the name of God, or in the name of the bishop, who is their GOD. You tell me what kind of God watches all that filth and does nothing. I’ll wait.

Let us hope and demand that Rosanna gets the justice she was denied in life. Because her blood cries out from the ground like a warning siren, loud, raw, and unforgiving. Let’s hope that Samuel meets every ounce of judgment behind those prison bars. Every goat dick. Every hard day. Every sleepless night. And let’s not forget the enablers, the ones who drive the buggies over bridges or piddle at 2 mph so they can blame an innocent person for going the speed limit and crashin’ into their 1700’s hot rod. The enablers who clean their messes and drive them across state lines. The enablers are plentiful..

If these people can’t grasp the concept of respect, then it’s time we teach it, with our voices, our laws, and our refusal to shut up. Because you don’t get to claim purity while hiding predators behind your prayer books. You don’t get to live among us, take our money, ride our roads, and expect special treatment while giving none. Not anymore.

If you can’t act right, sit down and shut the hell up. Because respect is earned, not inherited. And unless the Amish can roll out a God that gave them a divine permission slip to abuse, neglect, and kill without consequence, it’s time they drop the act and face the music.

This ain’t hate. This is truth, baby. And if truth burns, maybe it’s time to stop dousing it in gasoline.

#namishlife