I’ve been watching something unfold over the last few weeks that I can’t quite shake.
The world feels louder than it used to. Not just loud in the sense of “more news” or “more opinions,” but loud in a way that makes it harder to think. Every day there’s a new emergency. A new thing to be outraged about. A new reason to pick a side, right now, no hesitation.
And in the middle of all that noise, I found myself doing something I don’t usually do on Sundays: I just talked. No guest. No formal topic. Just me, trying to work through what I’ve been seeing, what I’ve been feeling, and what I think we all need to do about it.
Because here’s what I’m noticing: the more chaotic the world gets, the more people are retreating into two modes. Either they’re glued to the screen, letting the chaos consume them, or they’re checking out completely, pretending none of it matters.
And I don’t think either one works.
The Thing Nobody’s Saying Out Loud
Let me just put this on the table: “The reality is our country is actively [attacking] another country. We are at war with another country.”
That’s not hyperbole. That’s not fear-mongering. That’s just what’s happening.
Starting April 20, 2026, the US Army will raise the enlistment age from 34 to 42. Marijuana possession no longer disqualifies you from enlisting. And if you’ve been paying attention to the messaging coming out of military channels, it’s not subtle. One message I came across said:
“Are you ready to deploy, fight and win? Are your skills sharp, are your standards high, your gear ready?”
Another one was even more direct:
“Check your readiness, tighten your standards, prepare your family. Our nation expects discipline, capable force ready for immediate action.”
This is not the language of peacetime.
As I said on the show: “This is what it looks like when we’re preparing for something bigger, something longer, and something they’re not saying out loud yet.”
And here’s the thing, I’m not trying to scare you. That’s not my intention. I’m not one of those people who’s constantly screaming that World War III is here and we’re all screwed. That’s not helpful. But I also think it’s irresponsible to pretend everything is fine when the signals are this clear.
So what do we do?
The Only Thing You Can Actually Control
I’ve said this before, and I’ll keep saying it:
“Do what you can within your control. DC is not in our control, but there’s actually a lot that’s in our own control.”
That’s not a platitude. That’s a lifeline.
Because the truth is, most of the stress people are feeling right now comes from focusing on things they have zero power to change. You can’t control what’s happening in the Middle East. You can’t control what the military is doing in Iran. You can’t control the political theater in Washington.
But you can control your own house.
And here’s something I’ve learned from experience:
“The more you take action and you get your own house in order, you get your own family prepared, you start thinking like this, a lot of that stress goes away.”
It really does.
When I was living on the 42nd floor of a high-rise in New York City in early 2020, I felt helpless. Completely dependent. If something went wrong, if the power went out, if the water stopped, if the elevators failed, I had no options. I was stuck.
Now I live on 7 acres in upstate New York, about 2.5 acres cleared, surrounded by forest. I’ve got chickens. I’ve got water storage. I’ve got a plan. And when the world gets crazy, I don’t feel that same panic anymore.
Not because I think I’m invincible, but because I know I’ve done what I can.
The Thirty-Day Benchmark
People always ask me: how much should I prepare? How much food? How much water?
And honestly, “How long is a piece of string?”
But here’s a reasonable starting point:
“If you can just hunker down in your home for thirty days and not have to leave... you are already better prepared than most Americans.”
Thirty days. That’s it.
Not a year. Not a decade. Just one month where you don’t have to leave your house for supplies.
For a family of four, that means having 150 gallons of water stored. Why? Because you need 2-3 gallons per person per day. That’s drinking, cooking, and basic hygiene. And before you say “that’s too much,” let me remind you: “Water borne illnesses is one of the number one killers in disaster scenarios.”
You can find IBC totes on Facebook Marketplace for around $50. Those things hold about 275 gallons. Get two. Fill them. Done.
Water filtration is just as important. I’ve got Berkey filters. I’ve recommended Life Straws, which you can get on Amazon. And there’s a new portable desalination device called QuenchSea launching in April 2025 that costs $400 and can turn seawater into drinking water. If you live near the coast, that’s a game-changer.
Food is the same logic. You don’t need freeze-dried meals for ten years. You just need basics: rice, beans, wheat berries, canned goods. Stuff you’d actually eat.
When I was living in rural Ohio, I had 50-60 chickens. With a family of 3, I was getting 30-40 eggs per day. I freeze-dried approximately 5,000 eggs over one summer. Each batch of 100 eggs in the freeze dryer gave me food with a 10-15 year shelf life.
Was that excessive? Maybe. But I’ll tell you what, when everything shut down and people were panic-buying at grocery stores, I didn’t have to leave my house.
The Chicken Coop That Nearly Killed Me
Here’s a story that still makes me laugh and wince at the same time.
When I built my chicken coop, it cost me about $3,000. And I paid for it in more ways than one.
First, I knocked out a tooth. I was fixing the roof, standing on an 8-foot ladder, and a drill fell and hit me in the face. Now I’ve got a fake tooth.
Then, I dropped a 4x8 sheet of wet 3/4-inch plywood on my foot. I was wearing Birkenstocks. My big toe got smashed. The next toe got “dislodged.” I bled everywhere. It still looks gnarly.
And you know what? I’m pretty sure the Babylon Bee wrote an article about me in February 2020. The headline was something like: “Dad builds three thousand dollar chicken coop to get sixteen cent eggs for free.” The character’s name was Dave Mann. Sound familiar? They mentioned the injuries. They mentioned the wife’s Instagram.
I laughed when I saw it. Because they’re not wrong.
But here’s the thing: I don’t regret it. Not for a second.
Because now I’ve got eggs. I’ve got a system. And when I see our rooster, we named him Cocky, “going nonstop, just going at it with whatever hen he wants,” I know we’re set. Fresh eggs, every day, no supply chain required.
And honestly, “I think every household in America should have a couple chickens.”
Even if you can’t have chickens, you can raise quail in your garage. You can grow barley and duck weed to feed them. You can water glass eggs in pickling lime to preserve them. There are options.
The Lesson My Grandma Never Called “Prepping”
My grandma, Joy, lived in Southern Ohio. She lived through the Great Depression. And she always, always, kept her cellar stocked with canned goods.
She wasn’t a prepper. She was just a responsible person.
“Our great grandparents, they didn’t call it prepping. For them it was just living. That’s just how they lived.”
They didn’t have a choice. There was no just-in-time delivery. No DoorDash. No grocery stores with fifty types of cereal. If you didn’t grow it, can it, or store it, you didn’t eat.
Somewhere along the way, we lost that. We started outsourcing everything, food, water, security, community, and we called it progress.
But now, when the system wobbles even a little bit, people panic.
I don’t want to live like that. And I don’t think you do either.
Teaching June About Seeds
Today, before the show, I planted tomato seeds with my 5-year-old daughter, June. We did 72 tomato plants.
I showed her a tiny tomato seed, so small she could barely hold it, and I told her: “This is going to turn into a plant that gives you 20 tomatoes.”
She thought it was magic.
And honestly, she’s not wrong.
“You can see God when you’re touching nature like that.”
There’s something about putting a seed in the ground, watering it, watching it grow, and then eating the fruit of it that reconnects you to reality. It reminds you that the world isn’t just screens and noise and outrage. It’s soil and sun and life.
And when you teach your kids that, you’re not just teaching them a skill. You’re teaching them a worldview. You’re showing them that they’re not helpless. That they can create. That they can provide.
That they don’t have to wait for someone else to save them.
The Platform I Wish I Didn’t Need
Let me be blunt: I hate YouTube. YouTube has been so unfair to me.
I’ve got 179,000 followers on Rumble and 135,000 on YouTube. But on Rumble, I average 200,000 views. On YouTube? 3,000.
Three thousand.
That’s not organic. That’s suppression.
And I know some of you are thinking: “Well, Seth, just leave YouTube.” And I get it. But the reality is, YouTube is still where a lot of people discover content. So I’m stuck playing a game I don’t want to play, on a platform that actively works against me.
Meanwhile, Rumble has never given me any issue. They’ve been fair. They’ve been consistent. And that’s why I trust them.
But here’s the deeper issue: I’m not owned by anybody. I’m independent. “So I’m a threat.”
I’ve noticed that some of the largest conservative channels never get banned. Never get demonetized. And I think that’s because of who owns them. Because they’re safe. Controlled.
I’m not.
And that’s why I’ve been building something different.
The Community I’ve Been Building
We’ve got about 13,000 people on the waitlist for the Ark community. It’s $17.76 per month, or $176 annually.
And before you ask, yes, that price is intentional. “I want price to be a barrier for people that truly can’t afford it.”
That sounds harsh, but hear me out.
Free platforms attract trolls and bots. They attract people who have no skin in the game. And what I’ve learned is that “you need to have a little bit of skin in the game” for a community to actually work.
When people pay, even a small amount, they show up differently. They engage differently. They care.
And that’s what Ark is: people who care.
We’ve already got over 800 articles in the knowledge base. At launch, we’ll have 60-100 individual lessons for the Ark Academy. And the goal isn’t just to share information, it’s to build a real community where people can meet, learn, and support each other.
Because here’s the truth:
“When you can do it with other people, it’s a million times easier.”
I’m planning the first annual Ark meetup, and I can’t wait. I’m really an introvert, but I’m also very much an extrovert, and the idea of meeting you all in person, shaking hands, sharing stories, that’s what this is all about.
At conferences, people come up to me and say:
“Because of you, a year ago we sold our house in the suburbs, we’re now on five acres in the country, we’re homeschool our kids and we’re so happy.”
That’s what I’m building for. That’s what this is about.
The Threat You’re Not Thinking About
Here’s something I don’t want to turn into a political thing, but I can’t ignore it:
“There are global forces that want to do a COVID style lockdown to the whole world permanently.”
I believe that.
And I think the only way to resist it is to become harder to control.
That means being more self-reliant. That means being less dependent on systems that can be shut off with the flip of a switch.
“I’m going to take more control. I’m gonna be more self-reliant. I’m gonna be less reliant on the government. I’m gonna be harder to control.”
That’s the path forward.
Not violence. Not chaos. Just quiet, steady independence.
And by the way:
“Unless you absolutely have to, don’t go shooting people because you will get shot back at.”
That’s not cowardice. That’s wisdom. The goal isn’t to be a hero in some apocalyptic showdown. The goal is to protect your family, keep your head down, and outlast the chaos.
Operational Security Isn’t Paranoia
One more thing before I wrap up.
“Don’t go telling everyone that you’ve got all this stuff.”
Seriously. Shut up about your preps.
I know it’s tempting. You buy a year’s worth of food, you get chickens, you set up water storage, and you want to tell people. You’re proud of it. I get it.
But here’s the reality: if things get bad, the people who know you’re prepared will remember. And some of them will show up at your door.
So keep it quiet. And if you’re really smart?
“Create a fake stash. Create the one that you want them to find first.”
That way, if someone does show up demanding supplies, you can give them something without giving them everything.
Is that paranoid? Maybe. But I’d rather be paranoid and safe than trusting and screwed.
What I Walked Away With
At the end of the day, this isn’t about fear. It’s about responsibility.
It’s about looking at the world clearly, without rose-colored glasses, and asking:
“Am I ready for disruption?”
Not the end of the world. Not zombies. Just disruption.
A month without power. A week without water. A supply chain breakdown. A lockdown.
These aren’t wild scenarios. They’ve all happened before. And they’ll happen again.
So the question is: are you ready?
Because “it’s not about just being prepared like a prepper, it’s a way of life.”
It’s about building systems that make you more resilient. It’s about teaching your kids where food comes from. It’s about knowing your neighbors. It’s about having skills, not just stuff.
And it’s about refusing to let the noise drown out what actually matters.
The world’s going to keep getting louder. The crises are going to keep coming. The outrage cycles are going to keep spinning.
But you don’t have to get caught in the current.
You can step back. You can focus on what you control. You can build something solid.
And when the dust settles, and it will settle, you’ll be the one still standing.
Not because you were lucky.
Because you were ready.
