GLENN: I just want to do a couple of minutes here on bitcoin because I find it interesting. Stu and I both have very little money in bitcoin. Just enough that you are like, okay. I can walk away from this and not worry about it. So we both have about $6.75 in it.
STU: That's too much for my blood. But I have some.
GLENN: Yeah. So Stu bought about $300 a coin. And it is now -- is it about to cross the 1800 mark?
STU: Yeah, it's right around there. 1800.
GLENN: 1800 per bitcoin.
STU: They're saying a lot of it goes to the --
GLENN: Instability.
STU: In China --
GLENN: Instability. Oh, yeah China.
STU: And instability. It's true. China though. Both of those are true: Instability, and the Chinese market has blown up. They're throwing money into this like crazy. And remember, we haven't even hit a point where there's an actual collapse of an economy. And a lot of people think that if this happens, where currency collapses in this environment, a country may switch to bitcoin as its actual currency.
GLENN: I know.
STU: I mean, if that were to happen, I mean -- God only knows what could happen to this. I have no idea.
GLENN: And at the same time, it could completely collapse and go nowhere.
STU: It could be zero tomorrow, without -- without any doubt at all.
GLENN: Yeah. This is one of those things that, you know -- that you're either going to look like a genius or a dummy.
If you put a lot of money into it, you have a better chance of looking like a dummy. But, you know, this is something that your family could talk about for generations. "Yeah, I know. My great grandfather, he bought bitcoin when it was $300 an ounce." When it was, what? For a coin.
STU: Yeah.
GLENN: When it was what?
But there are some changes going on with that. And I think, you know, when things go unstable, at least until they can get their arms around it. See, this is what happened to gold. Look at bitcoin. This makes no sense. Bitcoin now is more expensive than gold. That doesn't make sense.
STU: Right. No. Of course not.
GLENN: And that's because they do reverse treasuries and all of those games. They shut this down and they play all kinds of games with the manipulation of the price of gold because they know that people see gold as a signal of trouble. And so when they see gold start to fluctuate in big jumps, they freak out.
Gold should probably be closer to 2,000 to 2500. If it wasn't the artificial barriers, it would be at least -- I bet you it would be $2,000. But these artificial barriers keep them down.
STU: And that's what happens -- bitcoin is even more susceptible to that.
GLENN: Oh, yeah. It's not susceptible -- I don't know if anybody is trying to keep it down. But people don't know. And it's not stable. And it could go to zero. Gold will never go to zero. You know what I mean?
STU: Right.
GLENN: But it depends on what happens. Do they -- same with bitcoin. Do they seize it? Do they not seize it? Do they make it illegal for trading in it? I don't know.
STU: Right. That's my biggest concern. My biggest concern, as is, my biggest concern with everything is the government coming in and saying, "You know what, people are doing X, Y, and Z, that we don't like with this currency. Therefore, it will no longer exist."
And the people who love bitcoin say, "Well, they can never do that because it's digital and it goes around the government." And all that's true. Like, it is true -- it would be very difficult for the government outside of shutting the internet down completely to turn off bitcoin.
However, if you make it so that you -- you know, if the government creates a law and somehow it makes it possible that, you know what, you're not allowed to accept bitcoin. No one is allowed to have bitcoin, it's going to chase everybody like me out of it. Because I have no interest in being on the wrong side of the law. I'm not looking to make some weird, you know, currency point here. I just find it generally interesting. And at that point, while, yes, it will still exist in some world, it will no longer, I think have the -- the number of people involved in it that will create the increase in value.
GLENN: Unless it's China. Unless China says, that's our currency. Or that's how we're going. If China does it, then you still have all that money in bitcoin available to China. Your job is to get to China. You know, if you had $10 million in bitcoin --
STU: Right.
GLENN: -- because you bought it -- this is not crazy.
STU: No.
GLENN: Because you bought it today and currency went out and China said, "Oh, by the way, this is our currency." And a few markets were using that as currency, you could see that -- you could see $10 million in bitcoin. Now, get to it, you couldn't do it here in the United States. But if you could get to someplace where it was free, that's -- you know, that is one thing about -- you know, people in the 1930s had to try to smuggle everything out. They were eating diamonds and everything else, to try to smuggle it out. This is all up in your head.
That's different than gold or anything else. You don't have to move around with it. You just have to find a way to access it, which, you know, today is easy. But if you had real global, you know, authoritarianism, that changes. But that changes everything anyway.
STU: Yeah, exactly. At that point, you're beyond --
GLENN: Yeah, there's no -- there's no scenario -- oh, let's see. If Blade Runner comes true. There's no scenario for Blade Runner.
STU: Well, considering there's a sequel coming out very soon.
GLENN: Well, I forgot about that. Yes, I forgot that.
STU: Then I would say yes. Sequel to the documentary Blade Runner 2049.
GLENN: Right. Which looks really good. It looks really good.
STU: It looks kind of interesting.
But that's the thing with this, is the crazy scenario in which bitcoin goes to 10 million, the world is such a crazy place, you almost can't prepare for it.
JEFFY: Right.
STU: The situation in which, you know, let's say Chuck Schumer decides, you know what, people shouldn't be able to have the freedom with their currency, so we're going to ban it, that's not an unrealistic scenario at all to me. And even if the rest of the world continues to use it, if you're an American citizen, you don't want -- like I'm not interested in being on the wrong side of the law. I'm not Jeffy.
GLENN: No, nobody is. Nobody is.
STU: Nobody except Jeffy is interested in that. So the business --
GLENN: No, I meant nobody is like Jeffy.
STU: Nobody is like Jeffy, that's true. But the businesses will stop accepting it.
GLENN: Yeah.
STU: That won't happen anymore. And when that happens, it just becomes irrelevant to the average person in America.
GLENN: Well, same thing could be said for gold or silver and not --
STU: It's true. But gold or silver is so much more established, right? This is something where the average person knows nothing about.
GLENN: Yeah, yeah. The government -- I guarantee you, the government it -- at some point, if it crashes, the government will have to get control of -- of the currency. They're going to have to get control. And so they will say, the only way you can sell is with X, Y, or Z. Then you just have to have the courage to barter. You know, it's one thing to have gold buried in your backyard -- which I would never do --
STU: You just don't want to dig.
GLENN: What? I don't know what you're saying.
You know, it's one thing to have gold buried in your backyard. And then, you know, take it out slyly to your neighbor and say, hey, look. Bury this in your backyard. I need to buy, you know, a chicken. You know, or whatever.
STU: A chicken?
GLENN: Well, that's the only -- let's be honest, guys.
JEFFY: Right. That's right.
GLENN: If you're buying gold like I do -- I don't buy it for the investment. I didn't buy bitcoin for the investment.
I buy it for an insurance policy that the whole freaking world is burning down. So, yes, I will be in the market for a chicken so I can have an egg.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
