Who is Oliver Anthony? Is he for real? Or is he a plant, as some people claim?

I ask because the guy was nobody when I left on vacation ten days ago—and now he is a worldwide phenom for calling out the elites in Washington and really hitting an American Nerve about politicians not giving a damn about you or me.

Oliver Anthony, by his own admission, was playing to crowds of 20 people earlier this month—and now his song Rich Men North of Richmond has soared to number one with no sign of slowing down. At last peek, it had 30 million views on YouTube.

The song is the most recent to really rattle the cage of ordinary Americans that are fed up with open borders, child sex trafficking, and the disaster that is the economy—the thing the left cheerfully calls Bidenomics.

This time the song comes from the gut of America—just a couple weeks ago, Anthony was living off the grid in a trailer with his three dogs, then he posted the song to YouTube, and it went ultra-viral. So much so, in fact, he was offered an $8 million contract that he rejected almost out of hand. I guess he is still in the trailer near Farmville, Virginia, but I am guessing he might have some added security.

He appears to be the genuine article—not something conjured up by AI in the backroom of a Nashville record studio or anywhere else. He looks to be the real thing—and that is something we all crave in this increasingly artificial world.

He overcame the social media handlers and the powerful behind the curtain. If he had signed a recording contract with any label—we would never have heard this song.
When I say Anthony struck a nerve, that is a massive understatement. I have seen praise for his populist anthem coming from all sides of the political spectrum and for good reason. America and Americans are starving for something real—for something or someone to believe in. Millions need a hero right now—and maybe this young man, whom I believe is just 31, is what people have been looking for. A real-life hero.

Nothing is real anymore. We don’t trust anything anymore—certainly not politicians. You know, the ‘Rich Men North of Richmond,’ which is Washington, DC—and when I say nothing is real—I mean it. It’s getting harder and harder to tell the real from the fake.

Let me put it this way:

I spent most of the past ten days with my family in Glacier National Park—which is in Northern Montana along the Canadian border.

It is about as real as it gets. We walked one trail for several miles called the Highline—and it has sheer drop-offs, some of them hundreds if not thousands of feet to the bottom. It is so intense in some places that guidewires are drilled into the side of the granite cliffs for people to cling to while they recite the Lord’s prayer under their breath—and yes, a couple of times that included me—and damn, did it feel good!

We drove over Logan Pass at the top of Going to the Sun Road—completed in 1932 at the vicious front end of the Great Depression. A road completed with thousands of pounds of dynamite by men, real men willing to put their lives on the line day after day to complete a road many thought could never be built.
They worked in harsh conditions for over ten years to get it done—dodging rockslides, snow slides, and brutal weather because they knew failure was not an option. They were steadfast, and they persevered because they were Americans—and Americans do great things—at least we used to.

Today, it seems that too many people are rewarded for failing, and we keep lowering the standards so nobody gets their feelings hurt. Worse, we give favors to criminals over the victims while the elites sit in their ivory towers, chortling over the challenges the rest of us face every single day.

They demand that we give up everything while they take it all. They demand you get rid of your appliances and buy a new EV while most can barely pay the rent or the mortgage, and the price of groceries has people literally eating less while the elite feast at the expense of many.

That’s why when you walk down a trail cut 150 years ago through the wilderness, you can get a sense of what is missing today—and that is something tangible and real—like granite and gravity.

Social media is no replacement for real wilderness and genuine experiences—video games don’t put you at 9,000 feet with no way out except the way you came in.

And you know what else is great about so many of our national parks? They don’t have cell service—so the families actually get the chance to talk to each other—to laugh, to cry, and to bond. You know, to hold onto something real—each other—what a concept.
 
This brings me back to the $8 million offer. A week or two after playing for 20 people, Anthony claims the offers came rolling in. Some folks are claiming he is a plant—and that his success was part of an organized effort. Seems strange to me, considering he has apparently worked the third shift in a factory and battled drug and alcohol issues. At least, that is what I have gleaned about the man—and the bright red beard really doesn’t look contrived to me.

And then he read from Psalm 37 at one of his shows.
“The wicked plot against the righteous
    and gnash their teeth at them;
but the Lord laughs at the wicked,
    for he knows their day is coming.
The wicked draw the sword
    and bend the bow
to bring down the poor and needy,
    to slay those whose ways are upright.
But their swords will pierce their own hearts,
    and their bows will be broken.
Better the little that the righteous have
    than the wealth of many wicked;
 for the power of the wicked will be broken,
    but the Lord upholds the righteous.
The blameless spend their days under the Lord’s care,
    and their inheritance will endure forever.
In times of disaster they will not wither;
    in days of famine they will enjoy plenty.
But the wicked will perish:
    
Though the Lord’s enemies are like the flowers of the field,
    they will be consumed, they will go up in smoke.”

So, you see, a guy with deeply held beliefs can make a difference—and that’s why I tell you to keep the faith every day. There are many among us who want us and America to fail.

They have their list of daily grievances, but most of us just want a chance to work for something, to build a life and provide for a family and make the place a little bit better than when we got here.

What we don’t want is people telling us they know better—that they can make all the decisions for us and we need to do what we are told—and that is the nerve hit by Oliver Anthony.

Working-class people want a chance to live their lives and maybe strike it rich along the way—but mostly just to be left alone.

Any politicians that are not paying attention to what is being sung these days are putting themselves at risk of an overwhelming populist revolution tossing them to the curb and protecting our Republic and Democracy from those that would like to see Western Civilization destroyed.