Opinion
Overnight sensation known as Oliver Anthony says “I’m not a good musician, I’m not a very good person” as he turns down multi million dollar offer

His real name is Christopher Lunsford. Friends and family just call him Chris. But over the last week or so, millions of people around the world have been introduced to him as Oliver Anthony. That’s because Chris records music under the name of his grandfather, Oliver Anthony, for a youtube channel called RadioWv (Radio West Virginia). Back on August 8, Chris was creating music as a hobby he practiced after work and on days off. But on August 9, a video he recorded for his original song “Rich Men North of Richmond” was loaded on the RadioWv channel. Within hours, Lunsford’s life was turned upside-down.
Chris Lunsford and “Draven” from RadioWv were sure this was a special song and they were hoping maybe something this good could get a few hundred thousands views. Well… 21 million views later, Lunsford has reportedly had to contend with about 50,000 online comments, and consider an 8 million dollar recording contract. Something about this song has touched a nerve.
In case you haven’t heard it yet, here it is on the youtube channel RadioWv. And this is the description put up by RadioWv.
“When I first came across Oliver Anthony and his music, I was blown away to say the least. He had a whole collection of songs that I could listen to for hours. Oliver resides in Farmville, VA with his 3 dogs and a plot of land he plans on turning into a small farm to raise livestock. We have a whole mess of songs set to release of Oliver for your viewing and listening pleasure, he is truly special and notes his biggest influence as Hank Williams Jr. Oliver wants to give hope to the working class and your average hard working young man who may have lost hope in the grind of trying to get by.”
The song is written about the struggles of regular folk in Appalachia, but millions of Americans have adopted it as an anthem for their own lives. The secret sauce behind the success of “Rich Men North of Richmond” certainly has to do with a brilliant title and the haunting melody. But it’s the heartfelt lyrics that strongly challenge political and corporate power structures which seem to be taking the world by storm. It’s kicking up a little storm of controversy too. While many media outlets are calling the song a ‘conservative anthem’, the BBC goes as far as to say the song is “the latest in a series of cultural flashpoints that reflect a deeply divided America.“
As a songwriter, Lunsford has called on a bitter period in his life to come up with lines like these:
“Livin’ in the new world/ With an old soul/
These rich men north of Richmond/ Lord knows they all just wanna have total control/
Wanna know what you think, wanna know what you do/ And they don’t think you know, but I know that you do/
‘Cause your dollar ain’t s**t and it’s taxed to no end/ ‘Cause of rich men north of Richmond.”
Like it or hate it, the song has rocketed to the top of Country Music charts. For his part Christopher Lunsford has made two public statements which are no where near as political as his lyrics. Lunsford recorded the first statement as an update to his sudden success.
Then with the pressure building to address his new audience again, Thursday, Chris Lunsford wrote this thoughtful update on his Oliver Anthony facebook page.
From the Facebook page of Oliver Anthony Music
It will be interesting to see what happens to Chris Lunsford. Certainly at some point soon he’ll accept a contract to make enough money to live a comfortable life far removed from the struggling Appalachian behind “Rich Men North of Richmond”. Millions of new fans affected by his song will hope he never moves too far away.
Censorship Industrial Complex
Welcome to Britain, Where Critical WhatsApp Messages Are a Police Matter

By
“It was just unfathomable to me that things had escalated to this degree,”
“We’d never used abusive or threatening language, even in private.”
You’d think that in Britain, the worst thing that could happen to you after sending a few critical WhatsApp messages would be a passive-aggressive reply or, at most, a snooty whisper campaign. What you probably wouldn’t expect is to have six police officers show up on your doorstep like they’re hunting down a cartel. But that’s precisely what happened to Maxie Allen and Rosalind Levine — two parents whose great offense was asking some mildly inconvenient questions about how their daughter’s school planned to replace its retiring principal.
This is not an episode of Black Mirror. This is Borehamwood, Hertfordshire, 2025. And the parents in question—Maxie Allen, a Times Radio producer, and Rosalind Levine, 46, a mother of two—had the gall to inquire, via WhatsApp no less, whether Cowley Hill Primary School was being entirely above board in appointing a new principal.
What happened next should make everyone in Britain pause and consider just how overreaching their government has become. Because in the time it takes to send a meme about the school’s bake sale, you too could be staring down the barrel of a “malicious communications” charge.
The trouble started in May, shortly after the school’s principal retired. Instead of the usual round of polite emails, clumsy PowerPoints, and dreary Q&A sessions, there was… silence. Maxie Allen, who had once served as a school governor—so presumably knows his way around a budget meeting—asked the unthinkable: when was the recruitment process going to be opened up?
A fair question, right? Not in Borehamwood, apparently. The school responded not with answers, but with a sort of preemptive nuclear strike.
Jackie Spriggs, the chair of governors, issued a public warning about “inflammatory and defamatory” social media posts and hinted at disciplinary action for those who dared to cause “disharmony.” One imagines this word being uttered in the tone of a Bond villain stroking a white cat.
|
![]() |
Parents Allen and Levine were questioned by police over their WhatsApp messages. |
For the crime of “casting aspersions,” Allen and Levine were promptly banned from the school premises. That meant no parents’ evening, no Christmas concert, no chance to speak face-to-face about the specific needs of their daughter Sascha, who—just to add to the bleakness of it all—has epilepsy and is registered disabled.
So what do you do when the school shuts its doors in your face? You send emails. Lots of them. You try to get answers. And if that fails, you might—just might—vent a little on WhatsApp.
But apparently, that was enough to earn the label of harassers. Not in the figurative, overly sensitive, “Karen’s upset again” sense. No, this was the actual, legal, possibly-prison kind of harassment.
Then came January 29. Rosalind was at home sorting toys for charity—presumably a heinous act in today’s climate—when she opened the door to what can only be described as a low-budget reboot of Line of Duty. Six officers. Two cars. A van. All to arrest two middle-aged parents whose biggest vice appears to be stubborn curiosity.
“I saw six police officers standing there,” she said. “My first thought was that Sascha was dead.”
Instead, it was the prelude to an 11-hour ordeal in a police cell. Eleven hours. That’s enough time to commit actual crimes, be tried, be sentenced, and still get home in time for MasterChef.
Allen called the experience “dystopian,” and, for once, the word isn’t hyperbole. “It was just unfathomable to me that things had escalated to this degree,” he said. “We’d never used abusive or threatening language, even in private.”
Worse still, they were never even told which communications were being investigated. It’s like being detained by police for “vibes.”
One of the many delightful ironies here is that the school accused them of causing a “nuisance on school property,” despite the fact that neither of them had set foot on said property in six months.
Now, in the school’s defense—such as it is—they claim they went to the police because the sheer volume of correspondence and social media posts had become “upsetting.” Which raises an important question: when did being “upsetting” become a police matter?
What we’re witnessing is not a breakdown in communication, but a full-blown bureaucratic tantrum. Instead of engaging with concerned parents, Cowley Hill’s leadership took the nuclear option: drag them out in cuffs and let the police deal with it.
Hertfordshire Constabulary, apparently mistaking Borehamwood for Basra, decided this was a perfectly normal use of resources. “The number of officers was necessary,” said a spokesman, “to secure electronic devices and care for children at the address.”
Right. Nothing says “childcare” like watching your mom get led away in handcuffs while your toddler hides in the corner, traumatized.
After five weeks—five weeks of real police time, in a country where burglaries are basically a form of inheritance transfer—the whole thing was quietly dropped. Insufficient evidence. No charges. Not even a slap on the wrist.
So here we are. A story about a couple who dared to question how a public school was run, and ended up locked in a cell, banned from the school play, and smeared with criminal accusations for trying to advocate for their disabled child.
This is Britain in 2025. A place where public institutions behave like paranoid cults and the police are deployed like private security firms for anyone with a bruised ego. All while the rest of the population is left wondering how many other WhatsApp groups are one message away from a dawn raid.
Because if this is what happens when you ask a few inconvenient questions, what’s next? Fingerprinting people for liking the wrong Facebook post? Tactical units sent in for sarcastic TripAdvisor reviews?
It’s a warning. Ask the wrong question, speak out of turn, and you too may get a visit from half the local police force.
|
|
Reclaim The Net values your free speech and privacy. Each issue we publish is a commitment to defend these critical rights, providing insights and actionable information to protect and promote liberty in the digital age.
Despite our wide readership, less than 0.2% of our readers contribute financially. With your support, we can do more than just continue; we can amplify voices that are often suppressed and spread the word about the urgent issues of censorship and surveillance. Consider making a modest donation — just $5, or whatever amount you can afford. Your contribution will empower us to reach more people, educate them about these pressing issues, and engage them in our collective cause. Thank you for considering a contribution. Each donation not only supports our operations but also strengthens our efforts to challenge injustices and advocate for those who cannot speak out. Thank you.
|
2025 Federal Election
2025 Election Interference – CCP Bounty on Conservative Candidate – Carney Says Nothing

Dan Knight
Liberal MP Paul Chiang echoes Beijing’s hit list, suggesting Joe Tay be delivered to Chinese consulate for cash—yet Mark Carney stays silent, proving the Liberal swamp is deeper than ever.
So let’s just recap, because this is almost too surreal to believe.
A sitting Liberal Member of Parliament—Paul Chiang—stood in front of a Chinese-language media outlet in January 2025 and said that if someone were to kidnap Joe Tay, a Conservative candidate and Canadian citizen, and deliver him to the Chinese Consulate in Toronto, they could “claim the one-million-dollar bounty.” That wasn’t some fringe YouTuber or anonymous social media post. That was a sitting MP, elected to represent Markham—Unionville, who also happens to serve as the Parliamentary Secretary to the Minister of Diversity and Inclusion.
Let me be crystal clear here: that’s not just inappropriate. That’s not just “deplorable.” That’s language lifted directly from the Chinese Communist Party’s playbook. Joe Tay is on a real bounty list. Not fantasy. Not fiction. A real HK$1 million bounty placed on his head by the Hong Kong police for supporting democracy and speaking out against tyranny.
And what happens when a Canadian MP echoes that threat—on Canadian soil?
Nothing.
As of right now—this minute—Paul Chiang is still an MP in good standing in with the Liberals. Not suspended. Not removed from caucus. No RCMP probe. No parliamentary discipline. Nothing.
And the Carney campaign? The Liberal Party’s new face? Crickets. Absolute silence. Carbon Tax Carney, Trudeau’s old money-man turned globalist messiah, who’s spent the last month talking about “foreign interference” and demanding Pierre Poilievre get a security clearance? Not a word. Apparently, if a Conservative doesn’t submit to Ottawa’s surveillance state, it’s a national crisis. But if a Liberal MP plays mouthpiece for Beijing and jokes about abducting a political opponent? It’s just… Tuesday.
Imagine for a second that a Conservative MP had said anything remotely close to this—maybe even joked about placing a bounty on a Liberal politician funded by a foreign regime. Every major newsroom in the country would have declared martial law. CBC would be live for 72 hours straight. The RCMP would have launched a task force. But because it’s a Liberal, they issue a press release. A shrug. A “deplorable” comment, followed by a half-hearted apology and—get this—no consequences.
Now, contrast that with how they treated Ruby Dhalla. A former MP who dared to challenge the coronation of Carney. The party booted her from the leadership race, citing “financial irregularities.” That’s rich. They kicked her out—then kept the entrance fee. So her money’s good, just not her name on the ballot.
That’s the Liberal Party of Canada in 2025. A party so thoroughly compromised, so ideologically bankrupt, that they treat foreign bounties on Canadian citizens as a punchline—as long as the target is a Conservative. As long as the regime writing the check has the “right politics.”
And here’s the silver lining—because yes, even in this mess, there is one: we’re lucky this is all happening weeks out from the election. Because now, finally, Canadians get a front-row seat to the Liberal swamp in all its grotesque glory.
Paul Chiang joking about handing over a Canadian citizen to a foreign dictatorship? That’s not some isolated gaffe—it’s the mask slipping. And the silence from Mark “Bank of China” Carney? That’s the sound of a globalist technocrat who’s just as deep in the muck as the rest of them.
This is the Liberals unfiltered. Not the polished press conference CBC version—the real one. The one that looks the other way on foreign interference, cashes the CCP’s checks, and protects their own no matter how depraved the behavior.
So yes, it’s revolting. But it’s also revealing. And thankfully, it’s happening before Canadians head to the polls—because now there’s no excuse, no spin, no pretending. The Liberal Party isn’t just corrupt. It’s compromised. And the country can’t afford another minute of it.
Time to clean house. Time to drain the swamp—Chiang, Carney, and the whole rotten cartel.
-
Media18 hours ago
Top Five Huge Stories the Media Buried This Week
-
2025 Federal Election18 hours ago
2025 Federal Election Interference from China! Carney Pressed to Remove Liberal MP Over CCP Bounty Remark
-
Automotive2 days ago
Trump warns U.S. automakers: Do not raise prices in response to tariffs
-
Addictions2 days ago
There’s No Such Thing as a “Safer Supply” of Drugs
-
Uncategorized17 hours ago
Poilievre on 2025 Election Interference – Carney sill hasn’t fired Liberal MP in Chinese election interference scandal
-
Censorship Industrial Complex13 hours ago
Welcome to Britain, Where Critical WhatsApp Messages Are a Police Matter
-
Business2 days ago
Tariff-driven increase of U.S. manufacturing investment would face dearth of workers
-
Education2 days ago
Our Kids Are Struggling To Read. Phonics Is The Easy Fix