GLENN: Well, here's an episode that I would really like to lose. Because once you -- luckily, it's radio. So you're not going to be able to see this. But as you're listening to it.
PAT: It's unbelievable.
GLENN: Realize it's 100 times worse when you actually are watching it.
PAT: This actually happened on a Netflix original show.
JEFFY: Yes.
GLENN: This is something we feel necessary to say. This actually -- in today's world --
PAT: It really happened.
GLENN: Think of this.
PAT: Happened.
GLENN: In today's world, where honestly, space aliens could -- Anderson Cooper could go on TV tonight and lift up his eyelid and pull it over his head and reveal himself as an alien, and we would be like, "Huh."
JEFFY: Should have seen this one.
GLENN: In this atmosphere, we have to say, this actually happened.
STU: Yeah. I mean, in all seriousness, it's one of the worst three minutes of entertainment put together. And, by the way, we have five of the top ten, so we know --
GLENN: This is our category. We have all of -- yeah, we're lifetime achievement winners when it comes to bad entertainment.
STU: Yes, this is the worst thing I may have ever seen.
PAT: Have you ever seen -- I didn't even know he had a Netflix show, but called Bill Nye Saves the World?
JEFFY: Yeah.
PAT: Who knew? And why the hell did Netflix put him on? What is the draw of this guy? I don't understand it.
GLENN: Okay stop here's Bill Nye the Science Guy. And he's going to introduce something that you, of course, know.
PAT: This is amazing.
GLENN: And warning, kids -- warning, if you have kids in the room --
PAT: Yeah, it's a little harsh.
GLENN: It has dicey language in it. It's all technical science language.
STU: No.
GLENN: But the song is -- remember, and we're the science denier.
PAT: Uh-huh.
GLENN: We're the ones denying science. This is on the science stage this weekend, my vagina has a voice.
VOICE: So you guys, seriously, this next thing I feel is very special.
PAT: It's very special.
VOICE: This is a cool little segment. You know this woman from Crazy Ex-girlfriend. Please give it up for Rachel Bloom.
GLENN: I didn't know Crazy Ex-girlfriend.
PAT: I don't know her, but...
VOICE: This one goes out to all my bipeds who identify as ladies!
PAT: Okay. For all the bipeds who identify as ladies because that's as close as we could come to calling you something that sort of identifies a human being.
GLENN: Women. Okay. So wait. That's what she said? For all you bipeds that identify as ladies.
PAT: Bipeds that identify as ladies.
GLENN: Okay. All right. But we're the science deniers.
(singing)
VOICE: My vagina has its own voice.
PAT: Wow.
(singing)
VOICE: Sometimes I do my voice for my vagina. Please, tell me I'm not the only one who does that.
(laughter)
GLENN: Stop. I believe that laughter is piped in.
PAT: Oh, it had to be.
STU: Really?
GLENN: I believe that --
PAT: I think it had to be.
GLENN: Well, they didn't mic the crowd.
PAT: I don't know if there even is a crowd. Is there a crowd there?
STU: I thought there was a live audience there. I mean, he seems to be talking to them at the beginning. It seems like it's a variety show.
PAT: Is he talking to us at home?
GLENN: I don't know.
PAT: I've never seen the show.
GLENN: I don't know. I've never seen it either.
VOICE: (singing) Much more than either.
PAT: So bad.
VOICE: (singing)
May have some butt stuff. It's evolution. Ain't nothing new.
PAT: Wow.
VOICE: (singing)
(music)
French treasure. 'Cause my sex joke is so (singing) more.
(music)
If they're alive, I'll date them. Channing or Jenna Tatum. I'm down for anything. Don't box in my box. Give someone new a handy and give yourself props.
VOICE: Oh, you think you're so smart. Did you learn gay in college?
VOICE: (singing) with all of that while I drop some knowledge. Sexuality is --
(music)
GLENN: Okay. Stop.
PAT: Has there been anything worst ever broadcast?
STU: Ever. Ever.
PAT: Ever. I don't think so.
GLENN: Yeah, but listen to the message.
PAT: Oh, it's science, Glenn.
GLENN: I know. My vagina has a voice.
PAT: They're singing science.
GLENN: Hey, are you? I'm Bill. Bill the vagina. Yesterday I was Carol. But today I'm Bill the vagina. Taking your calls now. Hello. I'm listening. Go ahead. Yes, Peter. Come in a little closer. What were you saying?
(laughter)
GLENN: I mean, jeez.
STU: Is that the voice she does -- is that the voice she does?
GLENN: How are you doing? Give us a whoa. Let me tell you something.
STU: That is really --
GLENN: I was vomiting out a child the other day. Oh, my gosh. Split my face wide open.
STU: Oh, okay. This is why --
(laughter)
STU: The issue here is -- no.
GLENN: If a vagina could talk, this is what it would be saying.
STU: Okay.
PAT: I think maybe it should stop talking.
STU: Yeah, no. I think that was the good --
GLENN: What, are you ashamed of me?
PAT: Yes.
STU: We are ashamed of you. Yes. Very ashamed of you.
And, again, now we've broken the record of Bill Nye for the worst moment in broadcast history, which I'm glad you reclaimed the title.
GLENN: Holy cow. Right. Thank you.
STU: It's interesting because a lot of people are offended over the content and message of that. Which she's saying -- basically saying I can't be assigned a sex.
PAT: And that's science?
STU: That's science somehow.
PAT: That's science. Jeez, man.
STU: But really, I'm much more offended at how terrible it is. Like, I don't -- they could be saying anything, and I don't think it would overcome just how awful a production it is.
PAT: No, it's unbelievably bad.
STU: It's horrific. What could they possibly have been thinking?
GLENN: You're still freaking out that my vagina has a voice.
STU: No, I know. I am.
GLENN: But my butthole has a stink beyond your wildest imagination.
STU: You've set the record already. You don't need to further it. This is like --
GLENN: Whoa. Whoa.
(laughter)
STU: This is like, you've already scored 101 points. You don't need to go for 130. Wilt. It's like, let's just calm down.
(laughter)
GLENN: Wow.
STU: That is absolutely unbelievable though. I mean, I seriously -- how in good conscience as a person who works in the entertainment industry, how could you let that on the air? That's something you light fire to the tapes before they get it to Netflix?
GLENN: No, here's the thing -- here's the thing: Netflix has spent a lot of money on that. There's nobody at Netflix that goes, yeah, well, my head has a mouth. And my mouth has a voice. You're fired. Get out. Get out.
STU: Well, I think the point with Netflix is, it's not like they're broadcasting -- this is -- it's the benefit of Netflix. They could put a bunch of crap on there too. They have a lot of great points.
GLENN: Yeah, but at some point, doesn't some shareholder go, come on?
JEFFY: And they might. They might. This is one season.
STU: But this doesn't cancel -- no one cancels a subscription over this, do they?
GLENN: No, no. Because there's so many other great shows. And so maybe it brings in some crazy nutjob liberal that subscribes and thinks it good. Maybe Bill Nye -- someone in Bill Nye's family subscribes because of this show.
GLENN: But here's the -- here's the problem: This is why -- I mean, are you seeing anybody who is conservative? Crazy, doing a show like that.
STU: No. And thank God!
GLENN: No, I know that. But they'll put anything on as long as it's liberal. As long as it's liberal, progressive, it doesn't matter. You know, the idea that the left has gone over after Fox News -- you're only thinning the herd. By making -- by making conservative views a pariah. What you do is you only allow the strongest or the craziest to stand.
And so we -- we'll stand. I'm telling you, we're going to continue to stand, even if I have to do it under a tree. I'm going to be doing -- I'm going to be saying my view under a tree, if it's only with three people. That's okay. You're not shutting me up. But the ones who last -- after you clear out -- if you make it uncomfortable for the normal people to say something, the only ones that are left are the truly dedicated or the nutjobs that will just get some other nutjob to pay for it.
STU: Well, that and, of course, obviously all the vaginas with voices. They'll always speak out. They're always there to speak out to America.
GLENN: Yeah. My vagina has a voice, but conservatives don't.
We should write a song.
STU: My vagina has a voice, but conservatives don't.
PAT: May have just broken the V-word record of all time too, right here.
GLENN: No, no. I don't believe so.
STU: It's possible. Again, in a science discussion, these things are allowed.
PAT: Pretty close.
Federal prosecutors in Los Angeles announced that four members of an anti-capitalist extremist group were arrested on Friday for plotting coordinated bombings in California on New Year’s Eve.
According to the Department of Justice, the suspects planned to detonate explosives concealed in backpacks at various businesses while also targeting ICE agents and vehicles. The attacks were supposed to coincide with midnight celebrations.
The plot was disrupted before any lives were lost. The group behind the plot calls itself the Turtle Island Liberation Front. That name matters more than you might think.
For years, the media has told us that radical, violent rhetoric on the left is mostly symbolic. They explained away the angry slogans, destructive language, and calls for “liberation” as performance or hyperbole.
Bombs are not metaphors, however.
Once explosives enter the picture, framing the issue as harmless expression becomes much more difficult. What makes this case different is the ideological ecosystem behind it.
The Turtle Island Liberation Front was not a single-issue group. It was anti-American, anti-capitalist, and explicitly revolutionary. Its members viewed the United States as an illegitimate occupying force rather than a sovereign nation. America, in their view, is not a nation, not a country; it is a structure that must be dismantled at any cost.
“Turtle Island” is not an innocent cultural reference. In modern activist usage, it is shorthand for the claim that the United States has no moral or legal right to exist. It reframes the country as stolen land, permanently occupied by an illegitimate society.
Once people accept that premise, the use of violence against their perceived enemies becomes not only permissible, but virtuous. That framing is not unique to one movement. It appears again and again across radical networks that otherwise disagree on nearly everything.
Marxists, anarchists, and Islamist movements do not share the same vision for the future. They do not even trust one another. But they share a conviction that the United States, like Israel, is a colonial project that must be destroyed. The alignment of radical, hostile ideologies is anything but a coincidence.
For decades, analysts have warned about what is often called the red-green alliance: the convergence of far-left revolutionary politics with Islamist movements. The alliance is not based on shared values, but on shared enemies. Capitalism, national sovereignty, Western culture, and constitutional government all fall into that category.
History has shown us how this process works. Revolutionary coalitions form to tear down an existing order, promising liberation and justice. Once power is seized, the alliance fractures, and the most ruthless faction takes control.
Iran’s 1979 revolution followed this exact pattern. Leftist revolutionaries helped topple the shah. Within a few years, tens of thousands of them were imprisoned, executed, or “disappeared” by the Islamist regime they helped install. Those who do not understand history, the saying goes, are doomed to repeat it.
ALEX WROBLEWSKI / Contributor | Getty Images
What happened in California was not a foreign conflict bleeding into the United States or a solitary extremist acting on impulse. It was an organized domestic group, steeped in ideological narratives long validated by universities, activist networks, and the media.
The language that once circulated on campuses and social media is now appearing in criminal indictments. “Liberation” has become a justification for explosives. “Resistance” has become a plan with a date and a time. When groups openly call for the destruction of the United States and then prepare bombs to make it happen, the country has entered a new phase. Pretending things have not gotten worse, that we have not crossed a line as a country, is reckless denial.
Every movement like this depends on confusion. Its supporters insist that calls for America’s destruction are symbolic, even as they stockpile weapons. They denounce violence while preparing for it. They cloak criminal intent in the language of justice and morality. That ambiguity is not accidental. It is deliberate.
The California plot should end the debate over whether these red-green alliances exist. They do. The only question left is whether the country will recognize the pattern before more plots advance farther — and succeed.
This is not about one group, one ideology, or one arrest. It is about a growing coalition that has moved past rhetoric and into action. History leaves no doubt where that path leads. The only uncertainty is whether Americans will step in and stop it.
This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.
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.
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 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?
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 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.
JIM WATSON / Contributor | Getty Images
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Joe Raedle / Staff | Getty Images
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
