Erin Levine’s company, Hello Divorce, is changing the legal culture and cost of splitting up.

When hate mail rolls in from attorneys, Erin Levine saves it for her “wall of shame.” They include an email from a Stanford law professor, whom she considered an ally, that accused her of providing “false hope” to her clients. That hope? To make divorce stress-free and affordable.

Levine, 40, is soft-spoken, but don’t let that fool you. She was once one of them — a divorce lawyer in California. That is until she became disillusioned and ended up launching her Hello Divorce platform. “The culture of divorce pits one spouse against each other,” Levine says. “And it’s not just about law — it’s child custody, finances and wellness, but the industry is so segmented.”

The average cost of divorce in the U.S. is $18,000. With kids, it’s $27,000. The average spend on Hello Divorce is just $1,500. The software lets you navigate your divorce either entirely on your own, or with legal help from California-based attorneys. As for the attorneys not so easily separated from their billable hours: “Bring it on,” Levine says.

You want to know how to survive The End? Take a trip into the American Redoubt Movement, where James Wesley, Rawles has got a few dozen ideas.

James Wesley, Rawles is glad that you now know he’s out there, but he doesn’t care at all to have you know precisely where he really is. Which makes getting to him a skosh hard, involving as it did trains, planes and automobiles to places where another phone call would take you down one road or another until, so many hours later, you end up at an unmarked gate off a not especially noticeable side road.

Photos? Not allowed. Using his name in public? Pointless. No one living in his part of the country knows him by the name we’re using. And what’s with the arbitrary comma in that name? A quirk he picked up on the advice of none other than G. Gordon Liddy, Watergate co-conspirator and famous eater of rats.

But why is Rawles, a former intelligence officer and now a best-selling author, in this undisclosed hidden pocket of God’s country with its own water, heat, livestock, crops, rations, supplies, firearms and friends with helicopters? For the simple reason that submicron technology has made total societal collapse not an if issue but a when one.

Their leader likes Trump … and it turns out that the people of the Philippines do too.

Last November at an Association of Southeast Asian Nations summit dinner in Manila, standing before a crowd that included President Donald Trump, the Philippines’ President Rodrigo Duterte crooned the words to a popular local love song: “You are the light in my world, a half of this heart of mine.” When the performance got a round of applause, the smooth-talking politician joked that the song choice was “upon the orders of the commander in chief of the United States.”

The mood was jovial, with Trump wearing a traditional, short-collared Barong Tagalog dress shirt. And why wouldn’t it be? As once-close allies show dismay at Trump’s presidency, the Philippines has held true. In fact, according to a 2018 Pew Research Center poll of 25 nations, Donald Trump is trusted by 78 percent of Filipinos — a higher proportion than any other country.