At Ease: Marcus Luttrell and other special ops soldiers sound off

The Glenn Beck program aired a unique special last night featuring four former spec op soldiers, some lawn chairs, a bucket of beer and some microphones. This is simply something you don’t get to see every day - elite American soldiers sounding off on the VA, ISIS and more.

Watch a preview below - TheBlaze TV subscribers can watch the full episode on demand HERE.

Pete: How do you guys feel about Iraq right now? I mean, we all fought there. We all lost friends there. How do you feel about watching basically everything we fought for just—?

Marcus: Is it still there?

Paul: You’ve got to go get an x-ray. If you x-ray it off of your body, does that count that you have it?

Chad: I asked him if I could do a hostage picture with a newspaper behind the missing leg. Here’s the date, the leg’s gone.

Marcus: I didn’t lose it. It’s not like I misplaced my leg.

Chad: Anybody that served in Iraq called it. I mean, why do you have all these brilliant military minds that you’ve chosen to promote to four-star general and admiral and all that stuff, and then you discount everything that they tell you about how to fight a war? So, you decide to pull out early so that you can make political gains, and this is what you’re going to get.

Paul: No, the colonels were telling everybody, and then they got out. Then the people that went lockstep with them for the majority, the guys that went lockstep in that mentality of just whatever, those are the ones that are the four-star admirals and generals.

Marcus: That is a bit baffling. I mean, you don’t join the military and get elected or appointed straight to general or admiral.

Chad: Everybody called this.

Paul: You know, it’s hard to even care. If no one else does, then just don’t put our troops there.

Chad: Look at two of the top commanders in ISIS, they were former Republican Guard Colonels for Saddam, you know? So, now you’ve got these guys who actually were trained at some point in time in the United States leading the biggest terrorist organization in the history of the modern world.

Paul: I think it would be a lot easier for me to care about it, and maybe you guys feel different, but it would be a lot easier for me to care about it if when you watch 70 guys that are crossing across to go fight ISIS and 700 military-age men are cheering them on, I’d stop and be like, “Hey, man, get in.” When they care, then maybe we should care a little more. That was the disconnect when we were over there going FID and everything else.

Marcus: Look, here’s the deal, man. They’re not stupid. So, every time they do something and we talk about it like hey, we’re discussing this, we disagree with what you’re doing. You disagree with somebody getting strung up, heads cut off and burned. I’m sure they really care about the fact that we disagree with them over here. That means absolutely nothing. I mean, the only way you handle a terrorist, and it should go for over here as well—we’re not talking about a criminal. Somebody breaks the law, yeah, you put them through the justice system, and then you put them in prison and let them do their time. We’re talking about a terrorist, somebody who is trying to eradicate or destroy and kill multiple people. You kill them right there. It’s right there.

Pete: Lawrence of Arabia, what he said, you know, an opinion can be argued with, but a conviction is best shot.

Marcus: What are they afraid of? Why would they be afraid of us?

Paul: President Obama.

Pete: They’re afraid of the six [indiscernible] a day. I mean, that’s just a devastating show of force.

Chad: I mean, if you want to talk about a leader, look at King Abdullah. You’re going to burn my guy, let me put on my flight suit. I’m about to get in my Cobra.

Paul: That’s his lineage. That’s where he came from. I wouldn’t expect any of our politicians, but at least let the guys that would jock up and go over there and hand somebody their…you know, let them do it.

Marcus: That female prisoner there, the terrorist, you better get your prayers in, because it’s going to be ending tomorrow.

Chad: Yeah, but instead we’re alienating the only ally, the true ally that we’ve had for, you know, the Israelis, you know? I mean, you want to go down that road.

Pete: I mean, at what point, you guys watched the whole Arab Spring go, rolled right across northern Africa into Syria. At what point do you just have to stop and go, “Are we intentionally aiding?” Are we letting this happen for a reason? I mean, because we’ve done absolutely nothing, and we’ve watched all of—and you knew what was going to happen in Egypt. It wasn’t like…they were like, “Oh, there’s going to be democracy and democratic elections.” You have the Muslim Brotherhood stepping up across the board.

Marcus: I get the perspective from what a lot of those people are saying that they don’t want to put boots. I get it, man. Why are you going to send us over there? The America soldiers, why are you going to send them over there? Why? To die. It’s going to happen. Soldiers die. We get paid. It’s a part of it, man. We get it. That’s not a problem with us. The issue is not a problem of us wanting to go. We’ll go, but why? So, it’s to secure what, nothing? Okay. You’ve got to have a reason.

People are dying. Yeah, people are dying, man. People die all the time. People have been dying over there for thousands of years, man. I mean, if you’re going to give a reason and have all the American public sign off on it and say yeah, it’s worth my boy going over there to die in a foreign land against a foreign land kind of deal, right?

Pete: I’m just saying an action across the board, not just military action. I’m not just saying military action, but look across action, any kind of action, sanctions. I mean, let’s just take it from a bigger picture. What did we really do? It’s like football. You build momentum, right? They have momentum right now. How do you take care? I mean, there’s one side of it where you say okay, if you walk into your kitchen, you turn on the lights, and there’s a bunch of cockroaches, do you walk in the next day, turn on the lights, and kill a couple cockroaches or do you turn the lights down, let all the cockroaches show up and then kill them in the dark?

Paul: They don’t scatter when you turn the light on. These cockroaches stay right there, and they “Here we are.” You’re right in one sense, Marcus, I think, but what do we stand for? I don’t know if I could walk into any military anywhere and say, “What does America right now in the world stand for?”

Chad: What was the statistic you gave earlier, the 27% or something?

Paul : In the Military Times, I think it was right before or right after Hagel was fired or quit or whatever happened there, they did a poll of the senior leadership, the junior people in the military. When you say senior leadership, I would presume that’s the O-6 and above level, and when they polled, they probably polled the E-5 and below, the E-5 Mafia down. They asked them, they said well, “Do you have confidence in your senior leadership?” Twenty-seven percent confidence. What’s Congress at? If you’re parallel with Congress, you’re in trouble.

Pete: Number one priority at Naval Academy, what would you imagine it would be just common sense? Like creating officers to fight and win a war?

Paul: Social engineering.

Pete: No, their number one priority is diversity above everything else at the Naval Academy. I don’t care how well you could lead. If we’re diverse, then we’re winning.

Marcus: Never had to question why I was doing something. It was because you were there. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m here. If everybody leaves, okay, I’ll go too, man, but if you’re going, I’m going—you jump, I jump kind of deal. Maybe an ignorant mentality, but it’s what keeps us alive.

Paul: But with phones and media and all the things and breakdown of leadership and unlawful command influence that happens constantly, which is, you know, it’s a horrible thing that when senior commanders are telling like the guy that had the counterterrorism—I hate to just throw it out, but the guy that was at West Point that taught the counterterrorism course that mentioned radical Islam and all that and then the secretary or the chief of staff of the army ended up getting involved. You remember all this? He ended up getting involved in this. Basically he’s a light colonel or a full-bird colonel, and they trashed his career because all the pressure from above, and you can’t say Islam when you’re talking about terrorism.

Marcus: Islam is the last thing you need to worry about me calling you.

Pau;: Yeah, right?

Marcus: I just say it how it is, man. That’s straight up.

Pete: But don’t you think it’s kind of scary that we’re not even acknowledging that it’s radical Islam, that it’s just extremism? Because to me that scares me domestically, because then, okay, if we’re going to battle extremists, well then you can make anybody an extremist. You’re a right-wing extremist. That to me scares me coming back, like we’re just battling extremists, so now hey, there you go.

Marcus: You know how hard that is for these younger kids, not us, not what we were in, these younger kids having to fight an ideologue? They’re not fighting a uniform. If I look at somebody, I can’t tell if he’s extremist or not.

Chad: It’s lack of knowledge. It’s lack of experience. Everybody sitting here has seen that airplane land in a combat zone and congressmen and senators and representatives get off, and they’re surrounded by PSD.

Pete: The 30th of the month, and then they stay until like the first or the second so they get two months tax-free.

Chad: They get two months tax-free, and then they stay for 45 minutes to an hour. They get back on the plane, and they leave. Then the first thing they do when they get home is they say I just returned from a war zone. It’s like no, you didn’t. You want to go to a war zone? Get in this truck with me. Hop in the truck. Jump in this truck and let me see what your pucker factor does.

Pete: Take your bloody cammies off. Put your nice cammies on.

Marcus: You spent all those months growing that beard out, and oh, you need to shave for the day. What?

Paul: Have you seen this?

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

NOVA SAFO / Staff | Getty Images

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.

AASHISH KIPHAYET / Contributor | Getty Images

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.

Why do Americans feel so empty?

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.

The Bubba Effect erupts as America’s power brokers go rogue

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.

Warning: Stop letting TikTok activists think for you

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.