Glenn: It's time to start focusing on principles and faith, not politics and religion

Below is a transcript of this segment:

So this morning, I came in and, quite honestly, my heart was full of anger this morning. My heart was full of anger because I'm tired of religion. I'm really, really tired of religion.

Let me say this: We used to say don't talk about religion and politics. It always leads to trouble. May I suggest that that is something we really need to consider again. We shouldn't be talking about religion and politics. Glenn, you're on a radio show, you don't talk about politics. We talk about principles.

The problem with politics and the same with religion, everybody uses it as a game to win.

I'm winning for my religion. My religion is right. Your religion is wrong. You don't know. You're a bunch of sinners. You're going to hell. Oh, my gosh, you're deceiving. Shut up.

It is our understanding of religion - if we really understand our religion and we really actually practice our religion, maybe we're going to be okay. But religion is really important because it defines our doctrines and it defines what is it that we believe and it helps us live our faith. But if we start concentrating just on our religion and not our faith.

Remember, religion is to help us live our faith. The same thing with politics.

I hate politics. I hate politicians. Why? Because they've forgotten the principles that actually the parties used to stand for something. I honestly don't know if they ever did. But in principle, they were supposed to stand for something. And those things helped you further what you believed in.

But now, it's all about the win. Now it's either just about baptism. I got to win. I got to win. I get to get you into the waters. Come to my church. Your church is bad. My church is good. What? You got to stop voting for the Republicans. You got to vote for the Democrats because we care about children, we care about poor. We care about this. You guys don't care about that. No, you don't care about that. We care about the poor. We care about the people down at the bottom. You're hurting those. --  Shut up both of you.

What are your principles? What is your faith? Those things we can unite on: principles. Those things will heal the world: principles and faith. But we all spend too much time watering the weeds. You water the weeds and expect flowers to grow? Flowers are not going to grow. We're watering the weeds.

Every plant, every thing that wasn't planted by God - meaning, everything that doesn't fall in line with universal principles, universal truths - will be uprooted. You don't need me to do it. I don't need to go out and uproot it. I feel like I'm too small. I can't effect anything.

I was talking to Dan one of our writers this morning in the hallway before I came in. I said, people write to me, and they Facebook me, they tell me thank you so much for what you're doing. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm no different than you, you don't know what you're doing. We're doing the best we can. We just get up and then we do it again tomorrow. That's what we're doing. We're all doing the best we can.

And all of us are made to feel insignificant. All of us are made to feel like we're not making a difference that we'll never make it.

You won't make it unless you play the games, unless you water the weeds.

 

Why?

You won't make it unless you vote for this person. You won't make it unless you go to this church and you adhere to this doctrine, not that doctrine, this doctrine.

What?

What are the things that are essential, essential for me to be able to make it? What are those things? Because I will bet you that we agree on 99.9%  on those things when you strip the label off it. Republican, Democrat. This church and that church. Forget about politics and religion. Let's talk about faith and principles. When we strip off the labels off them. And you were talking to an alien [because[ the only person you would trust now is some alien that you thought, okay, well, they don't have an agenda. They don't really know. So you would answer an honest question.

Everybody else: Well, what do you think? These politicians now on the campaign trail: Do you agree with what the president has done? Do you agree with his policies or not? It's a yes-or-no question. Give it to me. Yes or no, do you agree or not?

I know that there are subtleties. I know there are things that you will agree and disagree. Yes or no, on the whole, do you agree or don't you agree?

The Republicans: I don't agree! I don't agree! Of course, because they have to say that because of the way it looks. Because we have signaled that we have an attention span, and I'm not kidding you, an attention span four seconds shorter than that of a goldfish.

And so you can't say, well, I actually disagree with him. I do disagree on these things. We can't, because all the sound bite is, I don't agree with him. I do agree with him.

And the other reason they don't answer that question is because they don't have the balls to answer that question. They're not willing to actually suffer the consequences of what they believe in because they're about politics and not policies. They're about religion and not faith.

So as I sit down this morning and I'm going over all the things that we can talk about today, I see the real important things. The shootings up in Ottawa. What's happening to us? You know what's happening to us. You know what's happening to us. We have been infiltrated. There are those who believe in the radical teachings of psychopaths. Psychopathic Islam. Radical Islam? No. Psychotic and psychopathic Islam. Let's start being a little more clear. They're not radicals. They're psychopaths. They're here.

Last night if you happened to watch 'For the Record', you saw they're here. They're in Boston. We're telling the story of the Boston imams and the Boston mosque and the Boston council of Islamic relation or whatever the hell that is. Nobody up in New England wants to tell this story. Nobody in the press has the courage to tell this story except a few.

Most Americans don't have the courage to look at the story. Why? Because I can't do anything to change it.

That what you gaze upon, you become. Are we watering flowers or are we watering the weeds?

Nobody ever says if you have cancer, you know what you need to do, go home and concentrate cancer. What you can do is concentrate on cancer and where exactly it's eating at you. What I would do is spend all your time reading about cancer.

Laugh. Live life. Concentrate on the positives. You want to think about cancer? Concentrate on how it is being eaten and destroyed by you, not that it's eating you. That you're eating it.

Are we doing that as a people? Are you doing that as a person? I sure the hell am not.

We bring you stories of cancer. Instead, we need to bring stories of how cancer is being destroyed and eaten and how it's being eaten and that there is hope on the horizon. And more importantly than those stories that show the cancer being eaten, stories that just are good. Stories that are uplifting. Stories that you unite us, don't divide us. Faith over religion. Principles over politics. Those stories.

You know, the days when everything was grass fed. In the days when nothing was manufactured. You went out and you killed it, and then you ate it. Couldn't eat certain animals.

So here comes this carpenter. He's a carpenter. You're a carpenter, do you even know how to read and write? Let me tell you what the law is. The law is: You don't eat these things. And the carpenter says, you know, it's not really the things that you eat that destroy and defile you. It's not the things that go in your mouth, it's really the things that go out of your mouth that defile you.

What a condemning statement that is. What a condemning statement that is for those feminists that absolutely jumped the shark. Feminism is over. Mark it down. It was the six years old dressed as princesses being taught how to say the F word. That's jumping the shark. That's the end of feminism. What woman looks at little girls and says, that's right. No woman worth her salt. No mother wants to be a part of that. That's anger.

Why do men generally, why are they the ones who say go to war? Because we're the ones who are much more prone to anger. Look at what the feminist movement has done. It is not what's going in, it's what's coming out that's defiling them.

So I'm talking to Pat and we're sitting here. And we're like, okay, what do we talk about then? What do we talk about today?

There's a lot. But if I believe my faith, if I want to practice my faith, then I better watch what comes out of my mouth.

I better have the faith that says: Anything that God hasn't planted is going to be uprooted.

Not because of me. I mean, I will be involved. He uses our hands, our backs, our bodies, our brains. He didn't just put prescription bottles down in the ground with antibiotics. That is a miracle from God, but he used us to develop it.

But as I look at the world and what is happening and to be able to point the fingers and say, you want that to happen here? What happened in Ottawa is coming here. You know it and I know it. It's coming here.

We can ring the bell. But pointing the fingers, I'm not sure isn't watering the weeds.

And before I went on the air, I opened up my favorite book and read this: Let them alone. Let them alone. They're blind leaders of the blind. And if the blind lead the blind, they're both going to end up in a ditch. Leave them alone.

Let's not end up in a ditch. They're blind. They're blind. And they're leading the blind.

Let's talk about principles. Let's talk about faith. And maybe, we should listen to our parents and what they taught us.

Don't talk about politics or religion because nobody wants to hear it. It only leads to arguments.

Trump v. Slaughter: The Deep State on trial

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The administrative state has long operated as an unelected super-government. Trump v. Slaughter may be the moment voters reclaim authority over their own institutions.

Washington is watching and worrying about a U.S. Supreme Court case that could very well define the future of American self-government. And I don’t say that lightly. At the center of Trump v. Slaughter is a deceptively simple question: Can the president — the one official chosen by the entire nation — remove the administrators and “experts” who wield enormous, unaccountable power inside the executive branch?

This isn’t a technical fight. It’s not a paperwork dispute. It’s a turning point. Because if the answer is no, then the American people no longer control their own government. Elections become ceremonial. The bureaucracy becomes permanent. And the Constitution becomes a suggestion rather than the law of the land.

A government run by experts instead of elected leaders is not a republic. It’s a bureaucracy with a voting booth bolted onto the front to make us feel better.

That simply cannot be. Justice Neil Gorsuch summed it up perfectly during oral arguments on Monday: “There is no such thing in our constitutional order as a fourth branch of government that’s quasi-judicial and quasi-legislative.”

Yet for more than a century, the administrative state has grown like kudzu — quietly, relentlessly, and always in one direction. Today we have a fourth branch of government: unelected, unaccountable, insulated from consequence. Congress hands off lawmaking to agencies. Presidents arrive with agendas, but the bureaucrats remain, and they decide what actually gets done.

If the Supreme Court decides that presidents cannot fire the very people who execute federal power, they are not just rearranging an org chart. The justices are rewriting the structure of the republic. They are confirming what we’ve long feared: Here, the experts rule, not the voters.

A government run by experts instead of elected leaders is not a republic. It’s a bureaucracy with a voting booth bolted onto the front to make us feel better.

The founders warned us

The men who wrote the Constitution saw this temptation coming. Alexander Hamilton and James Madison in the Federalist Papers hammered home the same principle again and again: Power must remain traceable to the people. They understood human nature far too well. They knew that once administrators are protected from accountability, they will accumulate power endlessly. It is what humans do.

That’s why the Constitution vests the executive power in a single president — someone the entire nation elects and can unelect. They did not want a managerial council. They did not want a permanent priesthood of experts. They wanted responsibility and authority to live in one place so the people could reward or replace it.

So this case will answer a simple question: Do the people still govern this country, or does a protected class of bureaucrats now run the show?

Not-so-expert advice

Look around. The experts insisted they could manage the economy — and produced historic debt and inflation.

The experts insisted they could run public health — and left millions of Americans sick, injured, and dead while avoiding accountability.

The experts insisted they could steer foreign policy — and delivered endless conflict with no measurable benefit to our citizens.

And through it all, they stayed. Untouched, unelected, and utterly unapologetic.

If a president cannot fire these people, then you — the voter — have no ability to change the direction of your own government. You can vote for reform, but you will get the same insiders making the same decisions in the same agencies.

That is not self-government. That is inertia disguised as expertise.

A republic no more?

A monarchy can survive a permanent bureaucracy. A dictatorship can survive a permanent bureaucracy. A constitutional republic cannot. Not for long anyway.

We are supposed to live in a system where the people set the course, Congress writes the laws, and the president carries them out. When agencies write their own rules, judges shield them from oversight, and presidents are forbidden from removing them, we no longer live in that system. We live in something else — something the founders warned us about.

And the people become spectators of their own government.

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The path forward

Restoring the separation of powers does not mean rejecting expertise. It means returning expertise to its proper role: advisory, not sovereign.

No expert should hold power that voters cannot revoke. No agency should drift beyond the reach of the executive. No bureaucracy should be allowed to grow branches the Constitution never gave it.

The Supreme Court now faces a choice that will shape American life for a generation. It can reinforce the Constitution, or it can allow the administrative state to wander even farther from democratic control.

This case isn’t about President Trump. It isn’t about Rebecca Slaughter, the former Federal Trade Commission official suing to get her job back. It’s about whether elections still mean anything — whether the American people still hold the reins of their own government.

That is what is at stake: not procedure, not technicalities, but the survival of a system built on the revolutionary idea that the citizens — not the experts — are the ones who rule.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

1 in 20 Canadians die by MAID—Is this 'compassion'?

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Medical assistance in dying isn’t health care. It’s the moment a Western democracy decided some lives aren’t worth saving, and it’s a warning sign we can’t ignore.

Canada loves to lecture America about compassion. Every time a shooting makes the headlines, Canadian commentators cannot wait to discuss how the United States has a “culture of death” because we refuse to regulate guns the way enlightened nations supposedly do.

But north of our border, a very different crisis is unfolding — one that is harder to moralize because it exposes a deeper cultural failure.

A society that no longer recognizes the value of life will not long defend freedom, dignity, or moral order.

The Canadian government is not only permitting death, but it’s also administering, expanding, and redefining it as “medical care.” Medical assistance in dying is no longer a rare, tragic exception. It has become one of the country’s leading causes of death, offered to people whose problems are treatable, whose conditions are survivable, and whose value should never have been in question.

In Canada, MAID is now responsible for nearly 5% of all deaths — 1 out of every 20 citizens. And this is happening in a country that claims the moral high ground over American gun violence. Canada now records more deaths per capita from doctors administering lethal drugs than America records from firearms. Their number is 37.9 deaths per 100,000 people. Ours is 13.7. Yet we are the country supposedly drowning in a “culture of death.”

No lecture from abroad can paper over this fact: Canada has built a system where eliminating suffering increasingly means eliminating the sufferer.

Choosing death over care

One example of what Canada now calls “compassion” is the case of Jolene Bond, a woman suffering from a painful but treatable thyroid condition that causes dangerously high calcium levels, bone deterioration, soft-tissue damage, nausea, and unrelenting pain. Her condition is severe, but it is not terminal. Surgery could help her. And in a functioning medical system, she would have it.

But Jolene lives under socialized medicine. The specialists she needs are either unavailable, overrun with patients, or blocked behind bureaucratic requirements she cannot meet. She cannot get a referral. She cannot get an appointment. She cannot reach the doctor in another province who is qualified to perform the operation. Every pathway to treatment is jammed by paperwork, shortages, and waitlists that stretch into the horizon and beyond.

Yet the Canadian government had something else ready for her — something immediate.

They offered her MAID.

Not help, not relief, not a doctor willing to drive across a provincial line and simply examine her. Instead, Canada offered Jolene a state-approved death. A lethal injection is easier to obtain than a medical referral. Killing her would be easier than treating her. And the system calls that compassion.

Bureaucracy replaces medicine

Jolene’s story is not an outlier. It is the logical outcome of a system that cannot keep its promises. When the machinery of socialized medicine breaks down, the state simply replaces care with a final, irreversible “solution.” A bureaucratic checkbox becomes the last decision of a person’s life.

Canada insists its process is rigorous, humane, and safeguarded. Yet the bureaucracy now reviewing Jolene’s case is not asking how she can receive treatment; it is asking whether she has enough signatures to qualify for a lethal injection. And the debate among Canadian officials is not how to preserve life, but whether she has met the paperwork threshold to end it.

This is the dark inversion that always emerges when the state claims the power to decide when life is no longer worth living. Bureaucracy replaces conscience. Eligibility criteria replace compassion. A panel of physicians replaces the family gathered at a bedside. And eventually, the “right” to die becomes an expectation — especially for those who are poor, elderly, or alone.

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The logical end of a broken system

We ignore this lesson at our own peril. Canada’s health care system is collapsing under demographic pressure, uncontrolled migration, and the unavoidable math of government-run medicine.

When the system breaks, someone must bear the cost. MAID has become the release valve.

The ideology behind this system is already drifting south. In American medical journals and bioethics conferences, you will hear this same rhetoric. The argument is always dressed in compassion. But underneath, it reduces the value of human life to a calculation: Are you useful? Are you affordable? Are you too much of a burden?

The West was built on a conviction that every human life has inherent value. That truth gave us hospitals before it gave us universities. It gave us charity before it gave us science. It is written into the Declaration of Independence.

Canada’s MAID program reveals what happens when a country lets that foundation erode. Life becomes negotiable, and suffering becomes a justification for elimination.

A society that no longer recognizes the value of life will not long defend freedom, dignity, or moral order. If compassion becomes indistinguishable from convenience, and if medicine becomes indistinguishable from euthanasia, the West will have abandoned the very principles that built it. That is the lesson from our northern neighbor — a warning, not a blueprint.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

A Sharia enclave is quietly taking root in America. It's time to wake up.

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Sharia-based projects like the Meadow in Texas show how political Islam grows quietly, counting on Americans to stay silent while an incompatible legal system takes root.

Apolitical system completely incompatible with the Constitution is gaining ground in the United States, and we are pretending it is not happening.

Sharia — the legal and political framework of Islam — is being woven into developments, institutions, and neighborhoods, including a massive project in Texas. And the consequences will be enormous if we continue to look the other way.

This is the contradiction at the heart of political Islam: It claims universal authority while insisting its harshest rules will never be enforced here. That promise does not stand up to scrutiny. It never has.

Before we can have an honest debate, we’d better understand what Sharia represents. Sharia is not simply a set of religious rules about prayer or diet. It is a comprehensive legal and political structure that governs marriage, finance, criminal penalties, and civic life. It is a parallel system that claims supremacy wherever it takes hold.

This is where the distinction matters. Many Muslims in America want nothing to do with Sharia governance. They came here precisely because they lived under it. But political Islam — the movement that seeks to implement Sharia as law — is not the same as personal religious belief.

It is a political ideology with global ambitions, much like communism. Secretary of State Marco Rubio recently warned that Islamist movements do not seek peaceful coexistence with the West. They seek dominance. History backs him up.

How Sharia arrives

Political Islam does not begin with dramatic declarations. It starts quietly, through enclaves that operate by their own rules. That is why the development once called EPIC City — now rebranded as the Meadow — is so concerning. Early plans framed it as a Muslim-only community built around a mega-mosque and governed by Sharia-compliant financing. After state investigations were conducted, the branding changed, but the underlying intent remained the same.

Developers have openly described practices designed to keep non-Muslims out, using fees and ownership structures to create de facto religious exclusivity. This is not assimilation. It is the construction of a parallel society within a constitutional republic.

The warning from those who have lived under it

Years ago, local imams in Texas told me, without hesitation, that certain Sharia punishments “just work.” They spoke about cutting off hands for theft, stoning adulterers, and maintaining separate standards of testimony for men and women. They insisted it was logical and effective while insisting they would never attempt to implement it in Texas.

But when pressed, they could not explain why a system they consider divinely mandated would suddenly stop applying once someone crossed a border.

This is the contradiction at the heart of political Islam: It claims universal authority while insisting its harshest rules will never be enforced here. That promise does not stand up to scrutiny. It never has.

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America is vulnerable

Europe is already showing us where this road leads. No-go zones, parallel courts, political intimidation, and clerics preaching supremacy have taken root across major cities.

America’s strength has always come from its melting pot, but assimilation requires boundaries. It requires insisting that the Constitution, not religious law, is the supreme authority on this soil.

Yet we are becoming complacent, even fearful, about saying so. We mistake silence for tolerance. We mistake avoidance for fairness. Meanwhile, political Islam views this hesitation as weakness.

Religious freedom is one of America’s greatest gifts. Muslims may worship freely here, as they should. But political Islam must not be permitted to plant a flag on American soil. The Constitution cannot coexist with a system that denies equal rights, restricts speech, subordinates women, and places clerical authority above civil law.

Wake up before it is too late

Projects like the Meadow are not isolated. They are test runs, footholds, proofs of concept. Political Islam operates with patience. It advances through demographic growth, legal ambiguity, and cultural hesitation — and it counts on Americans being too polite, too distracted, or too afraid to confront it.

We cannot afford that luxury. If we fail to defend the principles that make this country free, we will one day find ourselves asking how a parallel system gained power right in front of us. The answer will be simple: We looked away.

The time to draw boundaries and to speak honestly is now. The time to defend the Constitution as the supreme law of the land is now. Act while there is still time.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

The Crisis of Meaning: Searching for truth and purpose

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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.

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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.