50 Years in the Trenches

Here's a full-bodied, 4,000-character-max description of 50 Years in the Trenches — structured for Draft2Digital, Books2Read, or any retail platform where you want readers to know exactly what they're getting into: 50 Years in the Trenches is not polite. It is not balanced. It is not here to make you feel better about the state of the world. This is the long-awaited updated edition of Wealth, Women and War, rewritten by Cliff Potts in the full fire of hindsight, rage, and resistance. It's part field manual, part confession, part political obituary — for a country that once promised freedom and delivered something far more brutal. From the wreckage of the American Dream, Potts traces five decades of decline: corporate capture, dark money, gun cults, mass incarceration, global exploitation, and the rise of fascism wrapped in patriotism. This isn't a lecture — it's a dispatch from someone who saw it coming and is tired of pretending otherwise. Whether unpacking the myth of balance, exposing the grift of education, or naming the quiet violence of everyday policy, every chapter strikes a nerve. Potts writes with the urgency of someone who has nothing left to lose and everything left to fight for. And in case it wasn't clear — he's not trying to win a book club. This is a call to arms — for the disillusioned, the dispossessed, the pissed off, and the painfully awake. If you've ever felt like the game was rigged, this book shows you the blueprint. If you've ever wondered why so many are still pretending it isn't, this book shows you the cost. If you've survived long enough to see the empire without its makeup, this book tells you you're not alone — and you're not crazy. Inside you'll find: A brutal takedown of the corporate state A rejection of empty centrism and moral cowardice A blueprint for resistance in a system built to exhaust you An appendix of banned, buried, or inconvenient books they hope you never read This book was written for the generation that watched hope get repossessed, the middle class collapse, and the truth get paywalled. It's a memoir soaked in gasoline, lit with the match of experience. You don't need permission. You need ammunition. Start here.