Right-to-Know advocate and super-activist Laurie Ortolano joins me on this week’s episode of Manch Talk. We catch up on her open government cases, delve into some challenges with RTK, and more. Join us now!
Here is a clip about the inspection stickers:
I bought a new-to-me car! Whoa, what an experience. You forget how annoying that whole sales process is until it’s too late. BUT, I’m excited to replace my 2008 Hyundai Santa Fe with a 2022 Hyundai Tuscon with only 20,000 miles on it. White, has all the features I wanted, and hopefully will serve me well.
High-five to myself for sticking to my MLX-declared deadline of March 31, 2025 to replace my car. In this car hunting experience, I learned a lot. About myself, Louis, our relationship, cars (heh), and more.
Buying a car is a stressful financial experience, second only to home buying. Was an excellent reminder to myself about how it feels on the other side of the table.
Something went funky with this one. I did something to piss off X again and some of my features are not available. Hopefully it will sort itself out. Click the broadcast link embedded below.
The Right of Conscience is your innate, divine authority to determine what is right and wrong for YOU—not for your neighbor, not for the mob, not for the state. It’s the inner compass. Your moral sovereignty. Your internal “No, thank you” button. Your God-given ability to say, “I will not comply,” especially when everyone around you is goose-stepping toward tyranny wearing a mask that proclaims “For the Greater Good.”
And no, you don’t need a government permission slip to exercise it.
The Right of Conscience predates the U.S. Constitution—it is older than America itself, older than governments, older than kings. It’s as old as humanity. It lives where the soul meets the gut, where the body overrides the mind, where your instincts kick in. Know thyself to know when to say “NO.”
The Founders knew this. They didn’t invent rights; they recognized them. The Constitution was written not to grant you freedoms, but to restrict the government from infringing upon the ones you already had just by being alive.
So where is the Right of Conscience in the Constitution? Well, it’s baked in. You see it most clearly in the First Amendment—that glorious 45-word punch in the face to tyranny—which protects freedom of religion, speech, and assembly. All those flow directly from your conscience.
Don’t believe in forced speech? That’s conscience.
Don’t want to fund wars that violate your values? That’s conscience.
Don’t want to inject something into your body just because the CDC or your HR department says so? That’s conscience, baby.
And every time a bureaucrat tries to override it “for your safety” or “for the children,” remember: conscience is non-negotiable.
See, conscience is not just a right—it’s a responsibility. It’s what separates you from a programmable meat puppet. It’s how you resist evil in real time. When you abandon your conscience, you become complicit. When you follow it, you become free.
And don’t let them gaslight you. Your conscience doesn’t have to be approved by a board-certified ethicist or align with current thing hashtags. It doesn’t have to make you popular. It just has to be yours—clear, courageous, and uncompromising.
Consent is the cornerstone of civilization.
Because if you can’t say “No,” your “Yes” means nothing.
The Right of Conscience is how we build a free society—from the inside out. Person by person. Heart by heart. It’s the cornerstone of self-ownership. It’s why I moved to New Hampshire. It’s why I fight. And it’s why you must never, ever give it up.
Live free and listen to that still, small voice. It knows when to say, No more.
BONUS! The NH Constitution enshrines the right of conscience, even if the US Constitution does not.
The Right of Conscience isn’t spelled out in the Constitution like “Congress shall make no law… abridging the freedom of speech.” But just because the words don’t appear doesn’t mean the principle isn’t screaming underneath every syllable of the Bill of Rights.
The Founders talked about the Right of Conscience all the time. In their letters. In early state constitutions. In sermons. In pamphlets. They understood it as the most sacred of rights—the one that makes all others possible.
James Madison, the so-called “Father of the Constitution,” explicitly said this:
“Conscience is the most sacred of all property.”
He also said:
“Government is instituted to protect property of every sort… conscience is the most sacred of all property.”
That’s Madison-speak for: Back off, government. The inner workings of my moral compass are none of your business.
And when he wrote the First Amendment—”Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof…”—he was protecting conscience. That whole bit about religious liberty? That’s about allowing people to live and act in alignment with their conscience. Because the moment the state claims it can dictate your beliefs, your words, or your medical choices—guess what? You’re not free anymore. You’re a subject.
Some early state constitutions did use the phrase directly. For example:
- New Hampshire Constitution, Part I, Article 4 (still on the books!): “Among the natural rights, some are, in their very nature, unalienable… The rights of conscience are sacred.”
Boom. Granite State gold. That’s why I moved here.
So while the U.S. Constitution doesn’t say “Right of Conscience” in those exact words, the idea is there, baked into the moral DNA of the American experiment. It’s like gravity—it doesn’t need to be named to exist.
And here’s the kicker: If we don’t defend it, we lose everything. Because when the government overrides your conscience “for your safety” or “the greater good,” it’s not just overreach—it’s sacrilege.
The Right of Conscience is the bedrock of liberty. Without it, you’re not free. You’re farmed.