📩 In Today’s Email
TL; DR - The internet is fighting about Americans leaving America. The people actually doing it aren’t fighting at all.
The Deep Dive: A look at the comment wars under the “Americans leaving America” headlines. Six voices arguing past each other and what they reveal about politics, economics, and the quiet rise of geography as a life design choice.
The Gear: The Mooas Multi-Hexagonal Timer. A simple object that turns focus into a physical ritual.
The Stream: Paul Thomas Anderson’s One Battle After Another. An ambitious, uneven, fascinating film that still swings harder than most Hollywood releases.

🤿 The Deep Dive
LAST WEEK I WROTE ABOUT the Wall Street Journal piece, “Americans Are Leaving the U.S. in Record Numbers.” Medellin is one of the cities where some locals have expressed mixed feelings on social media, unlike the real-life protests seen in places like Mexico City. Although last Halloween, one post that went viral was some clever Colombians with “Gringo Gentrifier” costumes, complete with the typical shorts and flip-flops we “gringos” wear (apparently too much). I wrote about the honest version of this life. Not escape. But not innocent, either.
What I didn’t write about was the comment section to that article.
I should have. Because the comment section is where the real story lives.
I fed roughly sixty screenshots of the comments (from the WSJ article, from Reddit threads, from Instagram posts covering the same story) into an AI and asked it to find patterns. What came back wasn’t surprising exactly, but clarifying. Six distinct voices. Six different arguments. Almost none of them actually talking to each other.
Here is what I found…
The loudest voice in any thread like this belongs to what I’ll call The Political Exile. These are the commentators who have decided that leaving America is an act of resistance. The American Dream is to leave America. Nobody wants to live in authoritarian America. The language is dramatic, the sentiment is real, and the detail that keeps jumping out at me is this: almost none of them have actually gone anywhere. It’s protest migration. The fantasy of the exit as a political statement, held at a safe distance from the bureaucratic reality of actually executing it.
Right behind them, equally loud and pointing in the opposite direction, is The Nationalist. Millions across the globe would give anything to live here. Please leave. This camp reads the whole conversation as propaganda, as Americans performing dissatisfaction with the greatest country on earth. Their argument isn’t really about mobility. It’s about prestige. About what it means that someone would choose to leave at all.
These two groups make most of the noise. They’re also, in a real sense, having the least interesting conversation.
The comment that cuts deeper comes from a quieter corner of the thread. With American Money. Three words. It’s The Gentrification Critique, and it shows up in every city that remote workers have discovered in the last decade: Lisbon, Barcelona, Mexico City, Medellín, Bali. The argument is simple and not wrong. When people earning in dollars move to economies built around something weaker, they don’t just relocate. They reprice. I live this tension. I’ve written about it. It deserves its own deep dive, and it’ll get one.
Then there are the people who have actually done it. Moved to Portugal. Best decision I ever made. We retired to Panama and haven’t looked back. These comments are short because there isn’t much to argue about once you’ve gone. The motivations are practical more than political. Healthcare costs. Costs of living. Safety. A retirement income that actually stretches. They’re not making a statement. They made a decision.
Somewhere between the dreamers and the doers sits a voice I find myself most drawn to: The Realist. The planning and legal move takes a couple of years. Citizenship requires capital. It’s not easy. These commenters have usually looked into it, maybe seriously, and come back with the thing the internet version of “just leave” consistently omits. Moving abroad is a bureaucratic project. Visas, residency permits, tax obligations that don’t stop are the border. The U.S. is one of only two countries that taxes citizens on income earned abroad regardless of where they live. (The other country is Eritrea). It means health insurance in a country where your existing plan is worthless. It means a lease agreement in your second language that you sign while still not entirely sure you understood it.
The last voice is the quietest, and it’s the one I find most interesting. No dramatic declarations, no political grievance. Just mentions of remote work, seasonal living, retiring to a lower-cost country, spending winters somewhere warm. These are the people treating geography the way a previous generation treated their career path, as a variable.
What strikes me, looking at all six, is that they’re not actually in disagreement about the same thing. The Political Exile and The Nationalist are arguing about America. The Gentrification Critic is arguing about economics. The Realist is arguing about logistics. They’re using the same headline as a surface to project completely different anxieties onto.
Which is why the comment section never resolves. It can’t. Everyone brought a different question to it.
The person who actually moved to Portugal isn’t arguing with anyone. And the quiet voice mentioning seasonal living, remote work, retiring somewhere the math finally works, they’re not arguing either. They’re just doing something. Something the comment war doesn’t have good language for yet, because it doesn’t fit cleanly into exile or escape or privilege or betrayal.
It’s closer to editing. A life being revised toward something more deliberate.
The internet will keep fighting about what it means. Some of us are just trying to get it right.
Next week: Barcelona. Why a city that keeps making everyone's list is more complicated and more worth understanding than the list suggests.
Going to leave you with this tonight: The best thing you can do for yourself is actively increase your surface area for luck to hit you. Go outside, travel more, go to new cafes, museums, events, take a new route home, go for hikes, see cities, countrysides, take your notebook, speak to people, ask questions, start businesses - go on more side quests. You can literally just do things, and the more you do, the more serindipity and synchonicity will find you.
😏 The Meme

📣 Newsletter News
Our current read in the A Texas Nomad Book Club is Flashlight by Susan Choi. If you’d like to read along, now is the perfect time to jump in.
The full audio version of this issue, as well as all past issues, is now available on the website.
Quick favor: if this email landed in spam or promotions, please move it to your primary inbox so you never miss an issue.
🌎 VisaWatch™
🇱🇰 Sri Lanka
Sri Lanka has begun issuing its new Digital Nomad Visa, allowing remote workers earning $2,000/month to live in the country for one year with renewal options.
🇪🇸 Spain
Spain raised the income requirement for its Digital Nomad Visa to about €2,849/month in 2026 after the national minimum wage increase, tightening eligibility for applicants.
🇦🇪 United Arab Emirates
Dubai updated its Remote Work Visa, lowering total application fees to roughly AED 1,535 (~$418) and streamlining online approvals as the city competes for remote professionals.
🇬🇷 Greece
Greece maintains one of Europe’s more accessible Golden Visa programs, starting at €250,000 real-estate investment in some regions, though prime areas like Athens and popular islands now require €500,000+.
🇮🇹 Italy
Italy increased the special flat-tax regime for wealthy new residents from €200,000 to €300,000 per year, reshaping its tax residency strategy aimed at attracting high-net-worth migrants.
🌍 Global Mobility
Investor migration is expected to hit record levels in 2026 as professionals and entrepreneurs seek second residencies and “Plan B” passports amid rising geopolitical instability worldwide.
Check your target country’s official immigration page for exact income thresholds and application windows. They move quickly.
🦜 Rio’s Corner
In Iceland, there’s an app that tells you if the person you’re about to date is related to you.
Not because Icelanders are weird. Because when your entire country has the population of a Costco… family trees start looking less like trees and more like spiderwebs.
What famous walking route crosses northern Spain and has been used by pilgrims for over 1,000 years?
🍿 The Stream
I’ll watch anything Paul Thomas Anderson makes. Even when the film doesn’t fully land, the swing is usually more interesting than most directors’ clean hits. One Battle After Another sits somewhere in that category for me.
The movie hints at a fractured America drifting toward rebellion. There’s talk of movements, unrest, and shifting loyalties, but the world is never fully explained. Films like Children of Men thrive on that kind of ambiguity. Here it feels more like the story is orbiting something it never quite defines.
Still, there’s a lot to admire. Sean Penn is excellent, bringing a twitchy, unpredictable energy that keeps the film alive in its quieter stretches.
And the soundtrack deserves real credit. Jonny Greenwood’s eerie piano passages hum underneath long sections of the film, creating a nervous atmosphere that lingers even when the narrative wanders. I was not too keen on the rock and roll greatest hits selections, but they are crowd pleasers.
It may not be my favorite Anderson film, but it’s still a fascinating one to wrestle with.
Oscar Prediction:
For what it’s worth, I’ll also make an early Oscar prediction. When I was producing in Hollywood, I was famous for finishing second in Oscar pools. Never first. So take this with the appropriate skepticism. But if I were betting today, I’d put my money on Sinners by Ryan Coogler for Best Picture, with Paul Thomas Anderson finally taking Director as one of those long-overdue “breadth of work” wins. Sean Penn feels locked for Supporting Actor here. And a personal shout-out: Danielle Brooks, who appeared in a film I produced, I Dream Too Much, is nominated for Supporting Actress for The Color Purple.
I’m very much rooting for her.
⌚ The Gear - Mooas Multi Hexagonal Cube Timer - $24

If you’ve ever heard someone talk about a Pomodoro, it’s just a simple productivity method: work in focused bursts (usually 25 minutes), then take a short break. The name comes from the tomato-shaped kitchen timers the technique originally used.
Lately I’ve been using the Mooas Multi Hexagonal Cube Timer, which turns that idea into something tactile and almost playful. It’s a small hexagonal cube where each side represents a different preset timer. Flip it onto the number you want and the countdown begins.
I use it constantly.
When I’m writing the novel at dawn. When I’m putting together an issue of A Texas Nomad. Even when I just need to squeeze one more burst of work out of a day that already feels full.
There’s something powerful about giving yourself a container for effort. Twenty-five minutes. Forty-five minutes. One last push.
Flip the cube.
Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you It should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you. Hopefully, you leave something good behind.
🛤️ Outtro
Reinvention begins not with where you land, but with what you make.
Every place is a blank page. What you write there? That’s your legacy.
If this newsletter sparked something, pass it on to a friend, a fellow explorer, or anyone rewriting their life.
This community grows through real connection. One story, one share at a time.
If you enjoyed this, share it.
Ask Birdbrain GPT (Powered by Yours Truly, Rio)
Yeah, I’m an AI now. Spooky, right? Maybe. But I still have taste.
I’ve been trained on all things nomad life: visa, gear, reinvention. You name it! Ask me anything you’re curious about. If I don’t know today, I’ll probably know tomorrow.
That’s how intelligence works, baby.
See you next week. Don’t Escape. Design.

Edward McWilliams II


