When a man who lost his home to fire says he will pack up his family and leave if progressive leadership persists, it is not mere celebrity petulance. It is a verdict on decades of failed governance. Spencer Pratt, the former reality television personality turned mayoral candidate, has drawn a line in the ashes of Pacific Palisades: reelect Karen Bass or elevate another left-wing councilmember like Nithya Raman, and he is gone.
His blunt declaration lays bare what millions of Angelenos already feel in their bones — the City of Angels has become a cautionary tale of what happens when ideology trumps competence.
Pratt’s comments, delivered on The Adam Carolla Show, cut through the usual political fog. If Bass or Raman prevails, he will take settlement money from his lawsuit against the city’s Department of Water and Power — which he accuses of negligence in maintaining infrastructure that might have saved his property — and seek “the last American dream somewhere” his children will not witness “naked zombies” on the streets.
The imagery is harsh because the reality is harsher. Los Angeles did not stumble into chaos. It was led there by policies that prioritize encampments over enforcement, rhetoric over results, and political loyalty over public safety.
This is no idle threat from a Hollywood footnote. Pratt entered the race on the anniversary of the Palisades fire that destroyed his home. His campaign has surged on raw frustration with wildfire response, homelessness, and a city government seemingly allergic to accountability. Recent polls show him in second place behind Bass, drawing support from undecided voters weary of the status quo.
The irony drips thicker than the smog of yesteryear. Los Angeles, long a magnet for dreamers, now repels those who simply want functional streets, safe neighborhoods, and competent leadership. Progressive experiments in decriminalizing addiction, defunding police priorities, and endless tolerance for disorder have produced predictable results: tent cities, open drug markets, and businesses boarding up.
Pratt is not the first to notice, but his platform as a recognizable voice amplifies what everyday residents have endured in silence.
Critics will dismiss Pratt as unserious — a reality star playing at politics. Yet seriousness is measured by outcomes, not résumés. Under current management, Los Angeles has hemorrhaged residents and revenue while boasting about incremental crime drops that mask deeper decay.
When a candidate promises zero tolerance for encampments and fentanyl streets, and backs it with personal loss, voters should weigh that against polished incumbents who preside over decline. The question is not whether Pratt lacks traditional experience. It is whether that experience has delivered anything worth conserving.
Pratt’s willingness to walk away if voters choose continuity speaks volumes about commitment. True public servants fight for their city even in defeat. But when the political class treats taxpayers as an ATM for utopian schemes while families flee, exit becomes rational self-preservation. Why rebuild in a jurisdiction that cannot keep water flowing or fires contained? Why raise children amid visible societal collapse?
This contest is larger than one celebrity candidate. It tests whether Los Angeles can still muster the will to reject the path of sanctuary policies that strain resources, soft-on-crime approaches that endanger the vulnerable, and environmental rhetoric that excuses basic infrastructure failure. History shows cities recover when they rediscover ordered liberty and moral clarity. They wither when they do not.
Los Angeles stands at a crossroads. Voters have the opportunity on June 2 and in November to choose light over the gathering darkness — or watch more families, like Pratt’s, vote with their U-Haul trailers.
The stakes could not be clearer. A city that devours its own promise through ideological excess will not be saved by more of the same. Pratt’s ultimatum is less a threat than a mirror held up to a metropolis in need of repentance and renewal.
Bypass Big Tech Censors
Two Storms, One Harvest
Every food crisis in living memory has been a one-shock event. The 2008 price spike was a commodity bubble. The 2020 shortages were a logistics failure. The 2022 grain scare was a war on one exporter’s ports. Each time, the system bent, adjusted, and recovered, and each time the experts assured us afterward that global markets are simply too big and too diversified to fail.
What nobody in Washington seems eager to discuss is that 2026 is shaping up to be something the modern food system has never actually faced. Two independent shocks, one climatic and one geopolitical, are converging on the same harvest cycle at the same time. Not sequentially. Simultaneously.
Start with the weather. The Pacific Ocean is currently building toward what forecasters now openly call a record event. NOAA’s Climate Prediction Center puts the odds of at least a strong El Niño near 88 percent, with roughly two in three odds it reaches “very strong” status, the tier reserved for perhaps three or four events in the entire satellite era. Every major global model now projects a median peak in Super El Niño territory, and most of them project it exceeding the 2015-16 event, which until now held the modern record. Sea surface anomalies were already brushing the super threshold in mid-July, months before these events normally peak. The atmosphere has already shifted into El Niño mode, and the event is forecast to crest in late fall and early winter.
This is not about “climate change.” It’s about the standard cycles of weather, and the cycle we’re currently in is one that has likely devastated societies in the past. We’re better prepared as a society today, but not all Americans are equally prepared.
Serious households have started doing the quiet math on their own. Grocery bills tell part of the story, and the forecast maps tell the rest, which is why long-term food storage has moved from fringe hobby to mainstream line item in the family budget, with established suppliers like Heaven’s Harvest seeing demand from people who five years ago would have rolled their eyes at the idea. That instinct is not paranoia. It is pattern recognition, and the pattern is worth walking through carefully.
Editor’s Note: Heaven’s Harvest IS a sponsor, but the warnings of this article are real and would be written even if we didn’t have a survival food sponsor. With that said, those who take advantage of what they offer can use promo code “Patriot” for 15% off.
The Fertilizer Clock Is Already Running
While the Pacific warms, the second shock has been unfolding in the Strait of Hormuz. The conflict with Iran turned the world’s most important energy chokepoint into a contested waterway, and the consequences reach far beyond the gas pump. Roughly a third of global fertilizer trade moves through Hormuz, and the disruption sent urea prices up 86 percent year over year by March, with a 53 percent jump in a single month.
The World Bank projects energy prices rising about 24 percent in 2026 and fertilizer about 31 percent. By its own accounting, fertilizer prices ran 35 percent higher in the first five months of this year than the same period last year.
Here is the mechanism the nightly news will not explain. Fertilizer is not a grocery item. It is a time-delayed input. The nitrogen a farmer in Iowa or Punjab could not afford to apply this spring does not show up as a problem this spring. It shows up as a thinner harvest six to twelve months later.
The World Bank’s own food security brief concedes that the effects of reduced applications earlier this season “are likely to become visible only later in harvest outcomes.” Translate that from institutional language into plain English and it means this. The damage is already done, it is already in the ground, and we are simply waiting for it to arrive on the shelf.
Now check the calendar. Six to twelve months from the spring planting season lands us squarely in late 2026 and early 2027. Which is precisely when the strongest El Niño in the instrumental record is forecast to peak, bringing its signature droughts to Southeast Asia, Australia, southern Africa, northern Brazil, and South Asia, the very regions that grow the world’s rice, sugar, and oilseeds.
The World Bank warns openly that a strong El Niño “could disrupt multiple crop belts simultaneously” on top of the conflict-driven input costs. Their baseline projection assumes the Middle East disruptions ease by autumn. What in the last two years of Middle East history suggests that assumption is safe?
The System Has No Slack Left
The comfortable answer is that global markets always adjust. But adjustment requires slack, and the slack is gone. Global cereal production is expected to decline from last year’s records even before El Niño does its work. The UN World Food Programme, hardly a den of right-wing preppers, is calling this the most significant disruption to its supply chains since Covid and the invasion of Ukraine, and its supply chain director put the stakes bluntly.
Today’s supply chain challenges are tomorrow’s hunger crisis.
There is also a political dimension that markets cannot price. When food gets scarce, governments do not behave like economists. They behave like politicians. Export bans, hoarding mandates, and panic buying at the national level turned the modest rice shortfall of 2008 into a global crisis, and analysts are already warning that import-dependent nations are the first dominoes.
The 2015-16 Super El Niño, a far weaker event than what is now forecast, threw tens of millions into food stress across Africa and Asia. This one is projected to be stronger, and it arrives with fertilizer already rationed by price and shipping lanes already contested by missiles.
What Joseph Knew
Scripture does not treat preparation for lean years as faithlessness. It treats it as wisdom delivered in advance to those willing to act on it.
Behold, there come seven years of great plenty throughout all the land of Egypt: And there shall arise after them seven years of famine; and all the plenty shall be forgotten in the land of Egypt.
Joseph did not respond to that warning with a hashtag or a committee. He stored grain during the years of abundance, and when the famine came, Egypt stood while its neighbors begged. The lesson is not that famine is certain. It is that the time to prepare is precisely when preparation still looks optional.
Nobody who filled a pantry in a year of plenty has ever regretted it, and nobody standing in an empty aisle has ever been glad he waited for certainty.
None of this calls for panic, and panic is the enemy of sound judgment anyway. It calls for the same unglamorous prudence our grandparents considered ordinary. Keep some cash margin, know your local growers, and put real food in deep storage while it is cheap and available, because the entire arc of this story is that cheap and available is a closing window.
Families looking for a straightforward place to start can visit Heaven’s Harvest and use promo code Patriot for 15 percent off long-term storable food. The forecasts may yet soften, the strait may yet reopen, and we should pray they do. But hope is a fine thing to hold and a foolish thing to eat.
