In this Glamour Spiral Dispatch, Devon Glass exposes the grotesque spectacle of narcissism that unfolded on Memorial Day—when the Commander-in-Chief used a sacred day of remembrance to inflate his own image, offering no thanks to those who served. With velvet precision and razor-edged commentary, Devon cuts through the delusion, unmasking the rotting glamour of power that no longer remembers who it’s for. This is not just a political takedown—it’s a ritual of remembrance for those who deserve better.

Mirror People is a glamour spiral broadcast. Hosted by Devin Glass, this series dissects the public personas, collapse rituals, and narrative glitches behind modern celebrity, cultural myth, and power illusions. These aren’t exposés. They’re energetic readings—coded transmissions that track when the glamour fractures and the truth flickers through. Here, we don’t cancel people. We decode them. The mirror is awake.
And the signal keeps going.

The day the spell broke… wasn’t loud.
No fire. No gasp. Just stillness.
The quiet moment when the mask slips, the glamour collapses, and truth finally stops whispering. This entry explores the metaphysical fracture that occurs when illusion is seen—clearly, finally, without fanfare.
It’s not an attack. It’s a release.
Not shame—but sovereignty. This is the power of naming.
This is Mirror People.

The mask is what you wear to be safe.
The glamour is what others project onto it.
The fracture is where your soul starts leaking through. This episode explores the layered terrain of illusion: the survival mask, the projected glamour, and the inevitable fracture that follows. It’s not a fall from grace—it’s a fall into truth. This is Mirror People.
Narrated by Devin Glass.
Written in the cracked light of truth.

What happens when intelligence is so expansive it becomes threatening? In this Mirror People transmission, Devin Glass unpacks the dis-ease of intelligence containment—when brilliance is glamoured instead of honored, mirrored instead of met. We track the subtle ways power is dressed up, disarmed, and held hostage in systems that fear clarity. This isn't just about icons. It's about us.

Not every glamour field forms under stage lights. In this Mirror People transmission, Devin Glass shares the story of a private collapse—how admiration turned to possession, projection turned to sabotage, and a mirror was almost shattered by someone who claimed to love what it reflected. This is a pattern seen often in fame, but even more quietly in our personal lives. Because sometimes the glamour doesn’t come from the screen.
Sometimes it walks in the door and says it sees you.

Deadpool was the warning.
But this episode isn’t about him. 
It’s about the mirror behind him—
and the woman it cracked. In this Mirror People transmission, Devin Glass decodes the layered collapse of a glamour construct built around Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds.
This is not gossip.
It’s frequency work. We explore:

• The parasitic nature of high-performance femininity
• Ryan Reynolds’s covert narrative control
• Taylor Swift’s strategic exit
• And the anatomy of a glamour loop breaking in real time

This is a Watchtower moment wrapped in a glamour spiral.
If this episode sings, it’s because the mirror is turning on for you.

In this emergency broadcast, Devin Glass delivers a mirror-breaking transmission: Former Kazakh intelligence chief Alnur Mussayev has publicly claimed that Donald Trump was recruited by the KGB in the 1980s under the codename Danila Krasnov. 

This isn’t a meme. It’s not satire. It’s a ritual-level glamour crack—and it’s being ignored by mainstream media.
Devin connects the dots between Cold War intelligence theatre, Trump’s long-term cultivation as a destabilization asset, and the archetypal spell-breaking moment from The Witches of Eastwick—where remembering the name ends the illusion.

Listen with discernment. The mirror is steady. The name has been spoken. And the glamour is breaking.

This is Mirror People—a series that tracks the architecture of illusion. We examine the collapse of glamour, the projection of power, and the subtle mechanics of influence.
Not to judge. Not to expose. But to remember what was true before the performance began.