Glenn's Labor Day weekend in NYC uncovers ugly hatred on American Airlines - UPDATED

UPDATE: American Airlines has tweeted a response to Glenn on Twitter:

Glenn's response:

Original Story:

GLENN: I want to spend some time giving you knowledge on, you're close to winning. In fact, you're so close to winning, the left and the uber left doesn't even know how to deal with it, and they're getting very, very angry. I've lived in New York for, what, five years? I've seen ‑‑ I've seen New York. I've seen the ugly side of New York, I've seen the good side of New York, but I have not seen what I have seen in the last weekend. In fact, my wife said she's never going to New York again. It was ‑‑ it was quite amazing.

I want to tell you a little bit about my weekend and I want to personally thank American Airlines for bringing to my attention that they don't mean "American Airlines." They mean "liberal American Airlines" apparently. But let me start here. Do you remember when Clint Eastwood got up on stage and he said, "You know there's a lot of ‑‑ there's a lot of people in Hollywood. They just don't make a big deal out of it." Now why? I've spent a lot of time with a few people in Hollywood that are very big names, and they'll tell you why. They don't have five Oscars to their name. They don't have Clint Eastwood's reputation. They don't have Jon Voight's reputation where it's Jon Voight. You want Jon Voight? You gotta take Jon Voight.

PAT: And you know what was interesting about Eastwood's speech was that he only mentioned himself and Jon Voight.

GLENN: And Jon Voight. That's it.

PAT: Because those are the two biggest.

GLENN: They don't say it. Now why? Why? Because they know they'll never work again. It's blacklisting, and it's wrong if you're a suspected Communist or a confirmed conservative. Blacklisting is wrong.

I want you to ask yourself, what have we become as a nation? If you have a different opinion, you are boycotted. You're shouted down. You're called worse names than you can possibly imagine. Your home or your business is targeted, sometimes by union thugs, sometimes by street gangs. Your church will be smeared. You'll be made to feel like a pariah in every situation, and they'll do it all in the name of diversity.

After a weekend in New York City, I remembered why I was so glad to move out of New York City. It started for me on a Friday night, this last Friday at a barbecue restaurant. Now why my daughter who lives in the city thought that coming from Texas we should go have barbecue in New York City is beyond me, but we did. As we walked in, my wife said, oh, my gosh, this is so‑and‑so very famous, you know, barbecue couple that do this barbecue thing, you know, on TV. And I said, "Oh, okay." She said, "It's supposed to be really good." Well, I have to tell you, the look that I was given by those in charge at this restaurant was, how dare you even come in here. It was quite amazing. I said to my wife as we were walking up the stairs, I said, this isn't going to go well. And she said, no, this was really a mistake. This is a minority‑owned shop. Was that the line that I dared to cross? No? No, it couldn't be because there were white people in there. So it must be something else besides my character. It's amazing to me. One would think that ‑‑ you wouldn't want to shun people that might have diverse opinions. Maybe they could put a second door in or another entrance in for people like me.

The next morning we had breakfast in the heart of the land of diversity. I was openly mocked by the patrons, and my wife was begging to leave as she heard the wait staff and management gasp in horror that they actually had to serve me. Lunch was no different.

New York City has become a very vile and hateful place, if you happen to have a different opinion. It's sad. Because I don't see New York as a liberal city. I see New York as one of the greatest cities in America. Not a liberal city, but a city that has a lot of great things in it and a lot of great people in it who may disagree with me, may not.

I've lived in Texas in the last few months and I had forgotten why I needed my security detail. It's funny because as I compared New York and Texas, there's not everybody in Texas agrees with me. There's a lot of liberals in Texas. It's funny. We all have a neighbor here in Texas who is an Obama supporter. All of us do. But we're neighbors first, Texans second, and Republicans and Democrats somewhere way down on the list.

On the way home I flew American Airlines, a Texas‑based airline. I, unlike all of the other passengers, was not offered the option of courteous service. I don't know why. Did I have to pay more than I paid for my tickets? Is that something that you have to select now you? My flight attendant nearly ‑‑ merely barked the word "breakfast" when he came to me. When others were politely asked if they cared for anything to eat and given the choices, I was just barked at. When he delivered a soda, he slammed it down so hard, I hesitated to even open the can for fear that it would spray all over other passengers in the cabin. By the way, the other passengers, nobody else had to open their can. He opened it and poured it for them. Never once did he look me in the eye. Never once did he offer a kind or even a neutral word to me. I had service unlike I have never had ever before in my life, and I have had rude service before. I lived in New York City. I have never had service that was specifically designed to make me feel subhuman. Oh, I had it. He put on quite a show as he fawned over the other passengers proudly and loudly performing his life story about being a former Israeli soldier and how he was so proud of the very liberal cities in America.

I watched him and I wondered: Does this make him feel better somehow? It's sad because I think it did. As I sat there, I wondered how many things we would actually agree on, how many things did he actually believe about me that aren't even true. I wondered if he was ever made to feel like a second class citizen before. I wondered if he had any friends and family in the dark years of Europe that made them feel less productive. I wonder if his friends and family ever felt like they were less than a welcome member of society because of their faith or who they were or what they believed.

I had lots of time to ponder things. I wondered what I had done to this flight attendant from American Airlines that caused him this much pain that he as a grown man felt justified and uplifted by taking his pound of flesh. What had I done to him personally? Did I wrong him personally? Or was he just taking his pound of flesh and acting out for the collective? Would he tell stories later in the day about how he treated me? Would he revel in those stories as he told his friends? Would he laugh ‑‑ would they laugh and jeer with him and tell him how proud they were of his behavior? I wondered. I wondered if a guy like this flight attendant for American Airlines, if he were in a group of like‑minded people and that group of people were in power. I wonder if he and his friends would feel it rational to march me through the streets with a sign around my neck mocking and frightening anyone away who might want to stand with me. I wondered. Surely not. This somehow was different. This was just a small indignity.

I prayed a lot on the plane. I, as a man, wanted to say something but figured we'd end up landing in a city that I didn't want to be in. I just wanted to go home. So I didn't say anything. And then I prayed. I thought about Billy Graham. I thought the leader of my church a lot. I thought about the teachings of Jesus. And gee, none of them really could break through because I was filled with a lot of anger. But I got up and I decided, what is the one thing I can say that will understand, so he can recognize that I recognized his point but also say something true, and kind? And I decided after the weekend that I had had in New York, where nobody really treated my children any differently than they did me, they were acting for the collective on the collective, I realized he was the only man that treated my children differently than me. While he treated me as a subhuman, he treated my children nicely. So as I was deplaning, as he was standing next to the pilot, I said to him, "I want to sincerely thank you for not treating my children the way you treated me." His response? "It was my pleasure. You deserved it." The pilot didn't say anything, nor did the other passengers, but they probably didn't know what was going on. I remembered yesterday, as I was driving home from the airport, the airlines used to make an announcement at the end of the flight that says, "We know you have a choice in airlines and we're glad that you chose us." I wondered if American Airlines was happy that I chose them. Are they happy that other conservatives even fly in their planes? Are they glad to be based in Texas, or is this just an unfortunate stopover on the way to one of those many liberal cities their employees are so proud of? I know yesterday I did have a choice and I chose wrong. I chose to fly with American Airlines. I do have a choice. And my family will never choose American Airlines again. I and my family will choose another carrier. If this is the kind of people that American Airlines likes to hire in the service industry.

You see, I grew up in a family‑run business. "The customer is always right" is what my father taught me. I wasn't trying to make a point. I just wanted to be treated as a human. Apparently that's not the way at American Airlines anymore, unless they vote the way you do, unless you vote the way they do. I lost my cool as I walked off the plane, as I was told I deserved to be treated worse than any airline attendant would have treated a dog. I shouldn't have lost my temper.

Last night I prayed that I would be forgiven for all the things that I may have done to divide, and to be given guidance on how to unite. I have made mistakes. We all have. We all have choices to make, and I have tried to make the highest possible choice. No matter my choice yesterday, I can make a new one today. We all have to if we're going to survive. No matter who wins, tough times are coming. Like it or not, we're in this one together. We have to be better than we have been in the past, and we have to expect it not from others but also from ourselves.

We are not the side shouting down, indoctrinating kids at institutions, making them fear, expressing a different opinion, or failing their class. All the while their professors are hiding behind tenure to protect intellectual diversity. We're not blacklisting those who have a different opinion or a lifestyle. We know that actors lead lives that don't reflect ours. We don't shun their movies. We don't boycott their movies. We connect where we can and the rest is up to them.

Hillary Clinton said during the last election that she was tired of being made to feel un‑American just because she disagreed with this president's opinion. I remember it clearly. I'll go a step further: I'm tired of being treated as a criminal, a disease, mentally challenged, stupid, or subhuman just because I happen to believe that the founders weren't racists, that the Constitution was and still is inspired and the greatest document for government ever created, that the military is not full of a bunch of baby‑killers, or that we shouldn't spend the money that we don't have, or that we should stick up for the little guy, the small business owner, that the corrupt businessman should go to jail and that capitalism is still the best system to lift people out of poverty. I will not shy away from saying proudly that I believe in God, that I believe churchgoers in all churches get a bad rap. We are good people and the reason, Christians are the reason the Nazis were stopped, slavery was stopped, and man was eventually set free all over the planet. It was Christians that did it. I'm sorry that you might find that offensive, or that I ‑‑ that I go to church and you find that offensive, or that I happen to go to the wrong church and you find that offensive. But I will not apologize for what I believe in or who I am. Because what I believe in compels me to stand up for you and your right to be who you are. I'd just like to be treated with a little dignity along the way. Thank you, American Airlines, for making my next flight an easier choice.

The Crisis of Meaning: Searching for truth and purpose

Mario Tama / Staff | Getty Images

Anxiety, anger, and chronic dissatisfaction signal a country searching for meaning. Without truth and purpose, politics becomes a dangerous substitute for identity.

We have built a world overflowing with noise, convenience, and endless choice, yet something essential has slipped out of reach. You can sense it in the restless mood of the country, the anxiety among young people who cannot explain why they feel empty, in the angry confusion that dominates our politics.

We have more wealth than any nation in history, but the heart of the culture feels strangely malnourished. Before we can debate debt or elections, we must confront the reality that we created a world of things, but not a world of purpose.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

What we are living through is not just economic or political dysfunction. It is the vacuum that appears when a civilization mistakes abundance for meaning.

Modern life is stuffed with everything except what the human soul actually needs. We built systems to make life faster, easier, and more efficient — and then wondered why those systems cannot teach our children who they are, why they matter, or what is worth living for.

We tell the next generation to chase success, influence, and wealth, turning childhood into branding. We ask kids what they want to do, not who they want to be. We build a world wired for dopamine rather than dignity, and then we wonder why so many people feel unmoored.

When everything is curated, optimized, and delivered at the push of a button, the question “what is my life for?” gets lost in the static.

The crisis beneath the headlines

It is not just the young who feel this crisis. Every part of our society is straining under the weight of meaninglessness.

Look at the debt cycle — the mathematical fate no civilization has ever escaped once it crosses a threshold that we seem to have already blown by. While ordinary families feel the pressure, our leaders respond with distraction, with denial, or by rewriting the very history that could have warned us.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

We have entered a cultural moment where the noise is so loud that it drowns out the simplest truths. We are living in a country that no longer knows how to hear itself think.

So people go searching. Some drift toward the false promise of socialism, some toward the empty thrill of rebellion. Some simply check out. When a culture forgets what gives life meaning, it becomes vulnerable to every ideology that offers a quick answer.

The quiet return of meaning

And yet, quietly, something else is happening. Beneath the frustration and cynicism, many Americans are recognizing that meaning does not come from what we own, but from what we honor. It does not rise from success, but from virtue. It does not emerge from noise, but from the small, sacred things that modern life has pushed to the margins — the home, the table, the duty you fulfill, the person you help when no one is watching.

The danger is assuming that this rediscovery happens on its own. It does not.

Reorientation requires intention. It requires rebuilding the habits and virtues that once held us together. It requires telling the truth about our history instead of rewriting it to fit today’s narratives. And it requires acknowledging what has been erased: that meaning is inseparable from God’s presence in a nation’s life.

Harold M. Lambert / Contributor | Getty Images

Where renewal begins

We have built a world without stillness, and then we wondered why no one can hear the questions that matter. Those questions remain, whether we acknowledge them or not. They do not disappear just because we drown them in entertainment or noise. They wait for us, and the longer we ignore them, the more disoriented we become.

Meaning is still available. It is found in rebuilding the smallest, most human spaces — the places that cannot be digitized, globalized, or automated. The home. The family. The community.

These are the daily virtues that do not trend on social media, but that hold a civilization upright. If we want to repair this country, we begin there, exactly where every durable civilization has always begun: one virtue at a time, one tradition at a time, one generation at a time.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

A break in trust: A NEW Watergate is brewing in plain sight

Gary Hershorn / Contributor | Getty Images

When institutions betray the public’s trust, the country splits, and the spiral is hard to stop.

Something drastic is happening in American life. Headlines that should leave us stunned barely register anymore. Stories that once would have united the country instead dissolve into silence or shrugs.

It is not apathy exactly. It is something deeper — a growing belief that the people in charge either cannot or will not fix what is broken.

When people feel ignored or betrayed, they will align with anyone who appears willing to fight on their behalf.

I call this response the Bubba effect. It describes what happens when institutions lose so much public trust that “Bubba,” the average American minding his own business, finally throws his hands up and says, “Fine. I will handle it myself.” Not because he wants to, but because the system that was supposed to protect him now feels indifferent, corrupt, or openly hostile.

The Bubba effect is not a political movement. It is a survival instinct.

What triggers the Bubba effect

We are watching the triggers unfold in real time. When members of Congress publicly encourage active duty troops to disregard orders from the commander in chief, that is not a political squabble. When a federal judge quietly rewrites the rules so one branch of government can secretly surveil another, that is not normal. That is how republics fall. Yet these stories glided across the news cycle without urgency, without consequence, without explanation.

When the American people see the leadership class shrug, they conclude — correctly — that no one is steering the ship.

This is how the Bubba effect spreads. It is not just individuals resisting authority. It is sheriffs refusing to enforce new policies, school boards ignoring state mandates, entire communities saying, “We do not believe you anymore.” It becomes institutional, cultural, national.

A country cracking from the inside

This effect can be seen in Dearborn, Michigan. In the rise of fringe voices like Nick Fuentes. In the Epstein scandal, where powerful people could not seem to locate a single accountable adult. These stories are different in content but identical in message: The system protects itself, not you.

When people feel ignored or betrayed, they will align with anyone who appears willing to fight on their behalf. That does not mean they suddenly agree with everything that person says. It means they feel abandoned by the institutions that were supposed to be trustworthy.

The Bubba effect is what fills that vacuum.

The dangers of a faithless system

A republic cannot survive without credibility. Congress cannot oversee intelligence agencies if it refuses to discipline its own members. The military cannot remain apolitical if its chain of command becomes optional. The judiciary cannot defend the Constitution while inventing loopholes that erase the separation of powers.

History shows that once a nation militarizes politics, normalizes constitutional shortcuts, or allows government agencies to operate without scrutiny, it does not return to equilibrium peacefully. Something will give.

The question is what — and when.

The responsibility now belongs to us

In a healthy country, this is where the media steps in. This is where universities, pastors, journalists, and cultural leaders pause the outrage machine and explain what is at stake. But today, too many see themselves not as guardians of the republic, but of ideology. Their first loyalty is to narrative, not truth.

The founders never trusted the press more than the public. They trusted citizens who understood their rights, lived their responsibilities, and demanded accountability. That is the antidote to the Bubba effect — not rage, but citizenship.

How to respond without breaking ourselves

Do not riot. Do not withdraw. Do not cheer on destruction just because you dislike the target. That is how nations lose themselves. Instead, demand transparency. Call your representatives. Insist on consequences. Refuse to normalize constitutional violations simply because “everyone does it.” If you expect nothing, you will get nothing.

Do not hand your voice to the loudest warrior simply because he is swinging a bat at the establishment. You do not beat corruption by joining a different version of it. You beat it by modeling the country you want to preserve: principled, accountable, rooted in truth.

Adam Gray / Stringer | Getty Images

Every republic reaches a moment when historians will later say, “That was the warning.” We are living in ours. But warnings are gifts if they are recognized. Institutions bend. People fail. The Constitution can recover — if enough Americans still know and cherish it.

It does not take a majority. Twenty percent of the country — awake, educated, and courageous — can reset the system. It has happened before. It can happen again.

Wake up. Stand up. Demand integrity — from leaders, from institutions, and from yourself. Because the Bubba effect will not end until Americans reclaim the duty that has always belonged to them: preserving the republic for the next generation.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Grim warning: Bad-faith Israel critics duck REAL questions

Spencer Platt / Staff | Getty Images

Bad-faith attacks on Israel and AIPAC warp every debate. Real answers emerge only when people set aside scripts and ask what serves America’s long-term interests.

The search for truth has always required something very much in short supply these days: honesty. Not performative questions, not scripted outrage, not whatever happens to be trending on TikTok, but real curiosity.

Some issues, often focused on foreign aid, AIPAC, or Israel, have become hotbeds of debate and disagreement. Before we jump into those debates, however, we must return to a simpler, more important issue: honest questioning. Without it, nothing in these debates matters.

Ask questions because you want the truth, not because you want a target.

The phrase “just asking questions” has re-entered the zeitgeist, and that’s fine. We should always question power. But too many of those questions feel preloaded with someone else’s answer. If the goal is truth, then the questions should come from a sincere desire to understand, not from a hunt for a villain.

Honest desire for truth is the only foundation that can support a real conversation about these issues.

Truth-seeking is real work

Right now, plenty of people are not seeking the truth at all. They are repeating something they heard from a politician on cable news or from a stranger on TikTok who has never opened a history book. That is not a search for answers. That is simply outsourcing your own thought.

If you want the truth, you need to work for it. You cannot treat the world like a Marvel movie where the good guy appears in a cape and the villain hisses on command. Real life does not give you a neat script with the moral wrapped up in two hours.

But that is how people are approaching politics now. They want the oppressed and the oppressor, the heroic underdog and the cartoon villain. They embrace this fantastical framing because it is easier than wrestling with reality.

This framing took root in the 1960s when the left rebuilt its worldview around colonizers and the colonized. Overnight, Zionism was recast as imperialism. Suddenly, every conflict had to fit the same script. Today’s young activists are just recycling the same narrative with updated graphics. Everything becomes a morality play. No nuance, no context, just the comforting clarity of heroes and villains.

Bad-faith questions

This same mindset is fueling the sudden obsession with Israel, and the American Israel Public Affairs Committee in particular. You hear it from members of Congress and activists alike: AIPAC pulls the strings, AIPAC controls the government, AIPAC should register as a foreign agent under the Foreign Agents Registration Act. The questions are dramatic, but are they being asked in good faith?

FARA is clear. The standard is whether an individual or group acts under the direction or control of a foreign government. AIPAC simply does not qualify.

Here is a detail conveniently left out of these arguments: Dozens of domestic organizations — Armenian, Cuban, Irish, Turkish — lobby Congress on behalf of other countries. None of them registers under FARA because — like AIPAC — they are independent, domestic organizations.

If someone has a sincere problem with the structure of foreign lobbying, fair enough. Let us have that conversation. But singling out AIPAC alone is not a search for truth. It is bias dressed up as bravery.

Anadolu / Contributor | Getty Images

If someone wants to question foreign aid to Israel, fine. Let’s have that debate. But let’s ask the right questions. The issue is not the size of the package but whether the aid advances our interests. What does the United States gain? Does the investment strengthen our position in the region? How does it compare to what we give other nations? And do we examine those countries with the same intensity?

The real target

These questions reflect good-faith scrutiny. But narrowing the entire argument to one country or one dollar amount misses the larger problem. If someone objects to the way America handles foreign aid, the target is not Israel. The target is the system itself — an entrenched bureaucracy, poor transparency, and decades-old commitments that have never been re-examined. Those problems run through programs around the world.

If you want answers, you need to broaden the lens. You have to be willing to put aside the movie script and confront reality. You have to hold yourself to a simple rule: Ask questions because you want the truth, not because you want a target.

That is the only way this country ever gets clarity on foreign aid, influence, alliances, and our place in the world. Questioning is not just allowed. It is essential. But only if it is honest.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

The melting pot fails when we stop agreeing to melt

Spencer Platt / Staff | Getty Images

Texas now hosts Quran-first academies, Sharia-compliant housing schemes, and rapidly multiplying mosques — all part of a movement building a self-contained society apart from the country around it.

It is time to talk honestly about what is happening inside America’s rapidly growing Muslim communities. In city after city, large pockets of newcomers are choosing to build insulated enclaves rather than enter the broader American culture.

That trend is accelerating, and the longer we ignore it, the harder it becomes to address.

As Texas goes, so goes America. And as America goes, so goes the free world.

America has always welcomed people of every faith and people from every corner of the world, but the deal has never changed: You come here and you join the American family. You are free to honor your traditions, keep your faith, but you must embrace the Constitution as the supreme law of the land. You melt into the shared culture that allows all of us to live side by side.

Across the country, this bargain is being rejected by Islamist communities that insist on building a parallel society with its own rules, its own boundaries, and its own vision for how life should be lived.

Texas illustrates the trend. The state now has roughly 330 mosques. At least 48 of them were built in just the last 24 months. The Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex alone has around 200 Islamic centers. Houston has another hundred or so. Many of these communities have no interest in blending into American life.

This is not the same as past waves of immigration. Irish, Italian, Korean, Mexican, and every other group arrived with pride in their heritage. Still, they also raised American flags and wanted their children to be part of the country’s future. They became doctors, small-business owners, teachers, and soldiers. They wanted to be Americans.

What we are watching now is not the melting pot. It is isolation by design.

Parallel societies do not end well

More than 300 fundamentalist Islamic schools now operate full-time across the country. Many use Quran-first curricula that require students to spend hours memorizing religious texts before they ever reach math or science. In Dallas, Brighter Horizons Academy enrolls more than 1,700 students and draws federal support while operating on a social model that keeps children culturally isolated.

Then there is the Epic City project in Collin and Hunt counties — 402 acres originally designated only for Muslim buyers, with Sharia-compliant financing and a mega-mosque at the center. After public outcry and state investigations, the developers renamed it “The Meadows,” but a new sign does not erase the original intent. It is not a neighborhood. It is a parallel society.

Americans should not hesitate to say that parallel societies are dangerous. Europe tried this experiment, and the results could not be clearer. In Germany, France, and the United Kingdom, entire neighborhoods now operate under their own cultural rules, some openly hostile to Western norms. When citizens speak up, they are branded bigots for asserting a basic right: the ability to live safely in their own communities.

A crisis of confidence

While this separation widens, another crisis is unfolding at home. A recent Gallup survey shows that about 40% of American women ages 18 to 39 would leave the country permanently if given the chance. Nearly half of a rising generation — daughters, sisters, soon-to-be mothers — no longer believe this nation is worth building a future in.

And who shapes the worldview of young boys? Their mothers. If a mother no longer believes America is home, why would her child grow up ready to defend it?

As Texas goes, so goes America. And as America goes, so goes the free world. If we lose confidence in our own national identity at the same time that we allow separatist enclaves to spread unchecked, the outcome is predictable. Europe is already showing us what comes next: cultural fracture, political radicalization, and the slow death of national unity.

Brandon Bell / Staff | Getty Images

Stand up and tell the truth

America welcomes Muslims. America defends their right to worship freely. A Muslim who loves the Constitution, respects the rule of law, and wants to raise a family in peace is more than welcome in America.

But an Islamist movement that rejects assimilation, builds enclaves governed by its own religious framework, and treats American law as optional is not simply another participant in our melting pot. It is a direct challenge to it. If we refuse to call this problem out out of fear of being called names, we will bear the consequences.

Europe is already feeling those consequences — rising conflict and a political class too paralyzed to admit the obvious. When people feel their culture, safety, and freedoms slipping away, they will follow anyone who promises to defend them. History has shown that over and over again.

Stand up. Speak plainly. Be unafraid. You can practice any faith in this country, but the supremacy of the Constitution and the Judeo-Christian moral framework that shaped it is non-negotiable. It is what guarantees your freedom in the first place.

If you come here and honor that foundation, welcome. If you come here to undermine it, you do not belong here.

Wake up to what is unfolding before the consequences arrive. Because when a nation refuses to say what is true, the truth eventually forces its way in — and by then, it is always too late.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.