Hollywood says there’s no future for family films - here’s why they’re wrong

Glenn’s made no secret of his love for the new movie ‘Little Boy’, a family film that shows how individuals can perform miracles through the power of faith. Leo Severino, producer of ‘Little Boy’, joined Glenn on radio to discuss the film and why people in Hollywood who say there is no room for family films are completely wrong.

Below is a rush transcript of this segment:

GLENN: I'm really excited about a new friend I made here the last couple of days. He's a guy who has started Metanoia Films and made the movie "Little Boy" and previously before that, "Bella" and is a like-minded thinker and a guy who is trying to change the culture from the inside. And you were with Twentieth Century Fox. Right? Flip up your mic. Leo Severino is with us now. Hi, Leo. You have to flip on that red button. Push it up. Or down.

LEO: There it is. Well, I have to say, first of all, what's up, my crackers? I'm Hispanic. No. My wife is Hispanic.

GLENN: Yeah, your wife is Hispanic. No. It's what's up my, cracka? We're not crackers.

LEO: You can call me your Wheat Thin.

STU: Julio, it's okay for us to say that to each other, but it's not okay for you.

GLENN: Yeah, you're Hispanic. It's totally fine for us.

LEO: As you can tell, I've been a fan of you guys so long. Pat, Stu, Glenn, as well.

GLENN: Notice he left out Jeffy.

LEO: Why do you have Jeffy standing? You can't even give him a chair or something?

GLENN: No. Can you imagine how big he'd be if we let him sit down?

PAT: Oh, my gosh. Plus, no chair could hold him.

GLENN: So, my Wheat Thin, so tell me, first of all, I want to get this movie stuff out of the way here. If I have recommended that you go see "Little Boy" -- this weekend is very important for you to see "Little Boy", if you haven't seen it. Because it probably won't be in the movie theaters for very much longer if you don't go see it. Had a good weekend. But it's open on limited screens. And all of the biggies are coming out here the next couple of weeks.

PAT: Ah.

GLENN: So this is the weekend to see "Little Boy."

PAT: Yeah, it's getting to be that time of year when they push the little ones out of the theaters.

LEO: That's it. David and Goliath time.

GLENN: And there are really great names in this movie. Kevin James, who I think is hysterical.

LEO: Greatest guy on the planet.

GLENN: You're friends with him. Right? What's he like?

LEO: He's fantastic. Hilarious. He's hilarious.

GLENN: I love him.

LEO: Not as funny as Stu, but hilarious.

STU: Wow. That's not going to help his career.

GLENN: Wow. That's really taking him down many, many notches.

LEO: By the way, completely kidding. The guy is hilarious. For real. If you ask me, Kevin James. Emily Watson.

JEFFY: That's fantastic.

LEO: Tom Wilkinson. It's an insanely good cast.

GLENN: It is.

LEO: We were blessed to have that caliber of people.

GLENN: This is the kind of movie that we've said -- have you guys seen it yet?

PAT: Not yet. I'll see it this weekend.

LEO: You're killing me. You have to see it this weekend.

GLENN: We've talked about this. This is the movie that Rotten Tomatoes, the critics gave it 10 percent.

PAT: That's unbelievable.

GLENN: And the audience has given it 88 percent.

PAT: I don't think I've ever seen a disparity between critics and people that wide.

LEO: I think the publicity team said we broke the records.

STU: Congratulations.

GLENN: So here's the thing. The reason it's like this is because it -- it showcases the -- the Frank Capra America. It has that idyllic peaceful, loving sweetness to it that we all love in Frank Capra movies. I think this is a modern day Frank Capra Walt Disney. Not what Walt Disney is now. I mean So Dear My Heart. His movies.

LEO: Back when she was ostracized as well.

GLENN: Right. People said it's all candy corns and sweetness and saccharine crap. That's what made those two guys.

LEO: You said something so wonderful, Glenn, when you said about this film. You said you want to believe in the America that we presented. This Norman Rockwell. We do too. That's why we make these films.

GLENN: I don't know if you know this. You're Hispanic, I don't know if you know this.

LEO: It's an odd thing. And the director. The director doesn't speak English. It's between English and Spanish. Somewhere in the middle. And he believes in that America too. Eduardo, you were gracious to have on the show. The three of us -- he is from Mexico. And he believes in that America too because the US has opened the doors for opportunity that we wouldn't have anywhere in the world.

GLENN: It's always the immigrants. It's always the immigrants that renew us.

LEO: This is our love letter in a sense to America.

PAT: I can't tell you how often we go through the list of movies that are open that weekend, and want to go with the family. And there's literally zero movies we can all go to as a family. It's great to actually have something that you can take the kids to and feel good about.

GLENN: We were talking off the stage yesterday that Leo and I were, that we've brought History House, which is -- you know, our kind of, you know, 30-minute television, kind of our ode to Walt Disney and what he did with the Wonderful World of Disney. And they're telling us now, there are no buyers for family television.

LEO: It's complete rubbish. It's absolute nonsense. When you down to the statistics of what actually sells. I actually brought some stuff. There's this great entity. It's called Movie Guide. MovieGuide.org. Ted Baehr is fantastic. He's been a voice screaming in the wilderness in Hollywood saying, sex doesn't sell. Nudity doesn't sell. Vulgarity doesn't sell. It's not just not the case. When you look at the combined averages of the films, for example, in 2013, his latest report, rated R films, films with graphic elements, accounted for about 11 percent of the combined average of the box office.

GLENN: Eleven.

LEO: Eleven. And they accounted for 47 percent of the films being distributed, en masse. So the diplomatic way of saying this is, you know, the supply is not measurable to the demand out there. It's disproportionate to the amount of the demand. Really what it means is that there's something more than the profit motive going on.

PAT: It means there's an agenda.

LEO: If they wanted to make money, you would just make family -- you're doubling the audience. It's pure economics.

PAT: Wow.

GLENN: You worked at Twentieth Century Fox. I don't want to single them out. Because Hollywood is Hollywood. Do you think this movie would have -- do you think "Little Boy" could have been made or would have been made by Hollywood?

LEO: No.

GLENN: Why?

LEO: Pixar, perhaps. That's the model that we really, really, really believe in.

GLENN: Yeah.

LEO: But no.

GLENN: It almost looks like a Pixar.

If Pixar did live action, it looks like a Pixar.

LEO: Thank you for that. And our cinematographer was at Pixar previously.

GLENN: Can I ask you a question. Was it filmed?

LEO: It was on film. The last film in wide distribution that was on --

GLENN: It is beautiful.

LEO: Thank you.

GLENN: I was watching it this weekend, I was thinking I think this is film --

PAT: That was my next question, was it filmed or was it digital? I had to know. I had to know.

GLENN: You won't know why this film hearkens back to that Frank Capra film. You won't know exactly why it feels like those old films. But it's because of film.

LEO: Yes.

PAT: Leo, how was the filmed blocked?

GLENN: Shut up.

STU: What kind of gaffing did you have --

LEO: You have no idea what gaffing is.

STU: No, I don't. These guys do a lot of things to make us look --

LEO: There's something to be said of that. We really thought that we wanted to depict this Americana. The way it would have been predicted if Norman Rockwell were shooting this film. Even at a greater expense and greater time. And you were shooting with a little kid because of these silly labor laws that they have nowadays. You can't shoot so many hours. It was much more expensive. But we thought it was worth it because we wanted something authentic. That was really Americana.

GLENN: Two stories I want you to tell. Tell the story of Eduardo, who he is, and what he's given up to tell these stories.

LEO: If you were a 16-year-old Wheat Thin. I don't know what the appropriate term is. But if you were Hispanic, you would know who Eduardo is. He was this heartthrob, kind of the Brad Pitt of Mexico. Also part of a boy band.

PAT: From a soap opera?

LEO: Yeah, from soap operas. First boy bands then television.

PAT: Was it Maria?

GLENN: Wait. Listen to him say -- go ahead.

PAT: [foreign language]

GLENN: Isn't that great? I think he just lives it. All of a sudden, he's there.

LEO: [foreign language] that was his show. That was Eduardo's big one. [foreign language] was another one. He was on a few. He was like the go-to guy. And his boy band of selling out stadiums with 50,000 screaming women, that sort of thing.

STU: And now he has you.

LEO: And now he has me.

GLENN: Wow. That's good. Big part in this movie.

LEO: That was great. We needed to get him in. But we were like, you don't fit with Norman Rockwell. We'll come up with something. You won't recognize him.

GLENN: At one point they open up a door, and he's like Maria.

LEO: But he had this change of heart. When he came to Hollywood, he did this film called Chasing Papi. Where he was the Latin lover that had three women, he was dating them at the same time. That sort of crazy stereotype. That's when he realized, what in the world am I doing? And then I think God touched his heart. And the rest is history.

GLENN: He told me that he made a promise to his mom and he said, Mom, I will not make a movie that you can't go to.

LEO: That's right.

GLENN: So he has passed on a lot. All the women in the control room when he was on that one day, they were like, you can keep him on. I think we're out of stuff to talk about. Doesn't matter. Keep him going. Because he has quite the opportunity especially in today's world. But he's not going for it. He's not going for the cash. He's going for, let's do the right thing.

LEO: And after he made that promise, he stopped working for years. And him and I met randomly. Not randomly. I think providentially on a random Wednesday at a church. Him and I had kind of similar ideas and similar concepts. At the time I was at Fox, like you mentioned. And I was striving for something of greater meaning. And we connected. And the next thing we know, we did this. It's crazy to start something independent with no connections at the time. No money. We went broke trying to do this thing. And, but we were really firm in the conviction that we needed to do something. You know, there's so much darkness around. We wanted to light a candle.

GLENN: Tell me about the little boy. The actual -- the actor.

LEO: Jakob Salvati. He's fantastic.

GLENN: He is a superstar. I've seen child actors where you're like, that kid will be -- when you saw, Haley Osment. You said, okay, he'll be a star. This kid is off the charts. And it wasn't him that was trying out.

LEO: That's right. They brought in his brother. And he was there as well. Give him a try. First audition didn't go so well. Him and the director kept having the giggles. We passed him up. The casting director was like, this kid got something. He has something.

GLENN: He's magic.

LEO: Not according to the critic. He's been slammed so hard.

GLENN: He carries this movie.

LEO: They call him saccharine. His heart is so pure. He said, I don't understand why -- I don't understand why the critics are saying that. He said, people really love the film.

GLENN: How old is he?

LEO: He was eight when we shot. He's 11 now.

PAT: Wow.

GLENN: He's great.

LEO: He's fantastic.

GLENN: But I hear and, correct me if I'm wrong, the story was told to me because his brother tried out, they went back and got him. And when you decided that it was going to be him, that his brother broke out in tears.

LEO: Yeah. We were in a room together. He said, the director interviewed him, and I was there with him. And the brother starts crying. And we thought it was just a moment of -- you know, maybe he was a little sad he didn't get the role or whatever it was. And he pulled me aside and he said, we're kind of broke right now. And this will save our family. It will save our house. So we talked to his dad. And he's cool with us saying that publicly because they're humble and awesome. This film has touched people in many ways.

GLENN: The kid broke out in tears of joy that his brother got the job. How great -- that is just unbelievable.

PAT: Cool.

GLENN: That's unbelievable.

LEO: , yeah.

GLENN: I'm thrilled to know you. I really am.

LEO: Thank you so much. I am a big fan. Our hearts in the same place. Kind of in different industries. Thank you for supporting. Any way we can support you. We're here.

GLENN: Well, it's an honor. Please go see this weekend "Little Boy". You will not be disappointed. I warn you, it's Frank Capra. So if you didn't like Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. If you didn't like, you know, It's a Wonderful Life.

PAT: Well, first of all, you're a communist.

GLENN: You know, if you don't like Norman Rockwell, you're not going to like this. But if you have that heart for America of what it really can be, you're going to love this movie.

LEO: Thank you. Thank you so much for saying that. Frank Capra is my hero when it comes to filmmakers. It's a Wonderful Life.

GLENN: You're Hispanic.

LEO: I know. You keep reminding me of this. I keep having to check to make sure that that's the case. Turns out, it still is. But -- sometimes it takes -- I mean, I was born here. My parents are from South America. Columbia. I love them to death. Obviously. They raised me with the right values. It turns out it's the American values. The same ones. Sometimes it takes an outside perspective like our director who didn't speak the language until he was 17 to show the beauty of this country. That's part of what we're trying to do. I wanted to say, Ben, your cohort --

GLENN: American Dream Labs.

LEO: Yes. He said, say the cities where you need help. So is it all right?

We need help in St. Louis, Las Vegas, Nashville, and Salt Lake City. Those are the four cities, if we can really do well this weekend, we can hopefully retain the theaters going forward. So that's St. Louis, Las Vegas, Nashville, and Salt Lake.

GLENN: Go see this movie. Please, take your family. Take your friends. Take your friend's family. Don't even ask the parents. Just disappear the children for a couple of hours. And go see "Little Boy". You will love it! Truly love it. Thank you so much.

LEO: Thank you, Glenn. Thank you, Pat.

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.

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.