Roy Cooper just cannot stick to one explanation. The Democrat former governor of North Carolina, now running for U.S. Senate, keeps inventing new reasons for why he cut a deal that put more than 4,200 convicted criminals back on the streets.
First it was not his fault. Then it was Trump’s fault. Then it was the prison officials’ fault. The only consistent thread is that Cooper refuses to own the blood that followed.
In 2021, Cooper signed a legally binding settlement with far-left groups including the NAACP and ACLU. The agreement required the early release of at least 3,500 inmates from state prisons under the cover of COVID. Officials later counted more. A searchable database tracking the full list puts the number at 4,234.
Among them were murderers, rapists, child predators, and dozens serving life sentences. Breitbart reports Cooper was the only governor in America who signed such a binding agreement forcing mass releases. Other Democrat governors in Colorado, Illinois, and New Jersey faced similar lawsuits or judicial pressure. Many fought back, delayed, or saw orders blocked. Cooper volunteered.
When the settlement was announced, prison officials told a state legislative committee that only inmates already scheduled for release in 2021 would go free a few months early. That was false. Violent offenders walked. The full list stayed hidden for years. It only surfaced after records tied Decarlos Brown Jr., the man charged with murdering Ukrainian refugee Iryna Zarutska on a Charlotte light rail train, to the settlement numbers.
Brown had been released earlier, but officials counted him toward the quota so they could free fewer others. Convenient accounting. Deadly result.
Cooper’s excuses multiplied. When Republicans pointed to Brown and the list, his campaign called it a “lie” and recited his long career as attorney general and governor who supposedly kept criminals locked up. That defense collapsed under the weight of the actual names.
Next came the attempt to blame federal releases under President Trump. When that fell apart, Cooper shifted again. Suddenly the prison officials alone decided who walked free. He just signed the papers.
The numbers are ugly. Nearly half of those released under the deal have reoffended, according to state data and independent reviews. The New York Post found more than 600 serious felonies, including sex offenses and violent crimes. At least 18 of the freed inmates were later charged with murder.
Reports put the death toll at 25 North Carolinians killed by people Cooper’s deal put back into communities. One database tracking the full cohort shows 2,412 have already returned to crime. The list included 53 serving life, 70 convicted of murder, 99 of rape or sexual offense, and more than 200 convicted of taking indecent liberties with a child.
These were not abstract statistics. Tyrell Brace, released in 2021, later killed a young father trying to break up a fight. Lucas Scronce’s release preceded the fentanyl death of his own 16-month-old daughter. Jimmie Speight, a prior sex offender against children, was charged with murder, rape, and kidnapping after walking free. Mothers of the dead have asked the obvious question: why release men already proven dangerous?
Cooper now wants a promotion to the U.S. Senate. He still claims he fought the releases in court and that public safety was his top priority. The record shows he settled rather than risk a broader court order, hid the names, misled lawmakers about the types of offenders involved, and then spent years inventing new stories when the bodies stacked up. Other governors found ways to resist or limit the damage. Cooper signed on the dotted line.
Scripture does not leave room for this kind of failure. Romans 13:4 declares that the ruler “is the minister of God to thee for good. But if thou do that which is evil, be afraid; for he beareth not the sword in vain: for he is the minister of God, a revenger to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil.”
Government exists to protect the innocent and punish the wicked. When a governor trades that duty for a settlement with activist groups and then lies about it, the blood of the victims cries out.
North Carolinians are watching a man who unleashed predators and murderers now ask for higher office. The excuses keep changing. The dead stay dead. Cooper’s record is not complicated. He chose the deal. He owned the consequences. Everything else is just another story he hopes voters will buy.
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.
