On May 7, 2026, the New York Post reported the arrest of Anthony Orozco, a 28-year-old resident of an East 214th Street apartment building in the Williamsbridge section of the Bronx. Video footage obtained by the Post and local outlets shows Orozco—dressed in women’s clothing including a tight black dress and blonde wig (and in other clips wearing a thong or appearing nearly naked)—terrorizing neighbors by banging on doors with a hatchet, wielding other weapons, and masturbating openly in the building’s common hallways.1
Neighbors described him as the “neighbor from hell” or “tenant from hell,” saying they are afraid to leave their apartments. One resident told reporters it is “always scary to leave my house.” Building management confirmed Orozco has not paid rent in over a year and is in the process of eviction through Bronx Housing Court, but the process has dragged on while residents live in fear.2
Orozco was arrested by the NYPD and charged with menacing. He was taken into custody wearing the same black dress and blonde wig. He has pleaded not guilty. Court records show prior arrests last month for similar erratic behavior, including criminal mischief and another menacing charge. He has denied wrongdoing to reporters.3
My Decree
Observe the pattern, as one must. In the once-orderly republic that now worships at the altar of “Pride,” public spaces are no longer safe from the grotesque spectacle of a grown man in a wig and dress, axe in hand, pleasuring himself in the hallway while terrified families cower behind locked doors. Anthony Orozco is not an outlier; he is the logical endpoint of a culture that has declared biological reality a “bigotry” and mental delusion a protected “identity.” Cross-dressing is no longer confined to private fetish or theatrical farce (though it shouldn’t be practiced in public nor private)—it is mainstreamed, celebrated, and legally shielded under the rainbow banner. The result? Hatchet-wielding lunatics roaming free while normal citizens pay the price in fear and lost rent.
This is what happens when democracy trades natural order for the tyranny of feelings. No king worth his crown would tolerate such public indecency and violence; his realm exists to protect the innocent and uphold the transcendent hierarchy of God, nature, and tradition. A monarch rules as father and steward—he does not pander to every splintered “community” demanding affirmation of their pathologies. He would not fear being called “transphobic” for removing a threat. He would restore order, because the realm and its responsibilities are his inheritance, not a vending machine for votes and virtue signals.
Instead, we live under a system that celebrates men in women’s clothing as “brave” and “authentic” while the actual women and children in the building must barricade themselves. The same ideology that grooms school-children with drag queen story hour now produces hallway exhibitionists with weapons. “Gender-affirming care”? More like state-sponsored psychosis. The rainbow regime demands we pretend a man in a dress is a sacred identity rather than a visible sign of civilizational collapse—and when the mask slips and the hatchet comes out, the response is a shrug, a plea deal, and another news cycle of performative concern.
The republicans will mutter about “mental health” and “more funding.” They always do. They will never name the root: the deliberate dismantling of sex, decency, and authority in favor of atomized desire. Tradition knew better. Scripture, custom, and every healthy society before the 20th century treated such behavior as the vice and disorder it is—not a parade float. A monarch’s court would not host pride months; it would enforce the peace that allows families to flourish without dodging perverts in the stairwell.
When a civilization severs itself from natural law and divine order, it does not become freer—it becomes a madhouse. Men like Orozco are not victims of “hate”; they are the predictable harvest of a culture that told them their delusions were sacred. Until hierarchy, duty, and unapologetic sanity are restored—under a sovereign accountable to something higher than the next election—expect more wigs, more hatchets, and more terrified neighbors paying rent so the regime’s pets can live rent-free in every sense. The court of the rainbow never adjourns. It simply escalates.
ibidem
