Dana Loesch Shares How ‘Repeated Threats’ Forced Her Family to Move

Dana Loesch spoke out about the increasingly detailed death threats that she and her family have been receiving and why she knew they had to move on today’s show.

“When your kids are too afraid to ride their bikes outside in front of the house, up and down the street … that was obviously a clear sign: ‘Time to leave,’” she said.

People angry over her stance on the Second Amendment were putting her address and phone number online and sometimes even pictures of her house. Dana tweeted this thread about her ordeal under the hashtag #MeToo this week as part of a larger conversation about violence toward women.

This article provided courtesy of TheBlaze.

GLENN: So Dana Loesch, who is just one of the most remarkable conservatives that I know, a -- a strong and fierce woman who is -- does everything she does because she's a mom.

And, you know, after the World Trade Center came down and things started getting crazy, she was -- she was a mom. And she decided to start speaking out. And next thing, you know, she's on the radio. And now she's syndicated. She's got her own TV show here at TheBlaze.

And she's also a spokesperson for the NRA, which has caused her real problems in the last year. So much so, that Dana tweeted over the weekend, that she was moving. And had to move to a new house, undisclosed location, because people on the left had found out where she was living and began to threaten her and her family.

Welcome to the program, Dana.

DANA: Hey, Glenn, good to be with you.

GLENN: First of all, you safe?

DANA: Yeah. I am. I'm good. I mean, I'm safe wherever I am.

GLENN: I wouldn't mess with you. Ever. I just would not mess with you.

DANA: It's crazy. I mean, it's crazy that it's to this point. It's crazy that in the past year, just by being vocal on a particular issue and understandably so, that it has gotten to this point.

And I tweeted -- you mentioned the tweet before where I took it because I just thought this was so crazy. And I love where I live. And I'm staying in Texas. And I love where I live. And nobody wants to move right as the holiday season is gearing up. I had thought to do this a little bit more planned out.

But when you have people that send you emails that say things like, well, I'm going to make it to where you feel like the parents of Newton. And where you get all this crazy stuff.

And they can't just keep it to you. And they can't just keep it to ideas. They have to start bringing in innocence and very young soft targets in. That's when -- I'm fine to stay where I am. But when your kids are too afraid to ride their bikes outside, in front of the house, up and down the street -- which is one of the reasons why I loved where I moved. Because when I left downtown St. Louis, my kids couldn't do that. And that was obviously a clear sign, time to leave. And come here to what I think is one of the safest and best places in the country. And I had people driving by my house, taking pictures of my home. Not just Google Maps stuff. Like actual photos of my home and putting it online. Putting my address online. Putting my private cell phone number, which I know anybody can find anything about anybody. But they put that online.

They started calling my cell phone number. At one time, they called it when the cops were at my house a little after midnight one evening. But it was when I really -- they couldn't get me by going after me, so they decided to target my kids, which is always the most dangerous place in the world for anybody to be, is between a mother and her kids. And especially so for me.

I guess that they thought they were going to send a message to them. So I'm just going to louder, but I'm going to do it from an undisclosed location.

GLENN: Dana, what was the conversation with your kids like?

DANA: We have had it before. The first big conversation that we had was after my oldest son who is on the internet, in a limited way. Like he's not allowed on Twitter. He's not allowed on Facebook. He's not allowed on Snapchat. And I always go through everything. Because it's not a democracy. It's a momocracy in the house.

And one of his friends -- the day that -- I was actually doing my program at TheBlaze. My TV program at TheBlaze. And this is the day that that video came out, where this guy had made this death fetish video where I killed myself. And before I got home, after doing my show at TheBlaze, my son's best friend had already sent him a link to the video. Saying, did you see this? This is your mom.

And that's how my oldest son found out. So when I got home, we had to have this -- you know, it's not like I sit down every night with my kids over the dinner table, and we have Ronald Reagan school. You know what I mean? They're able to go and live their own lives and do their own thing. Obviously, we have a certain set of ideals that they must live by. But we don't pummel them by politics. And so we had to have that conversation over the dinner table in a night. And that was really one of the first staid conversations that we had. Then when we had local police here and when this one individual found my cell phone number and called it while the police were here, we had to have another conversation.

And then after there were reported emails about the void, that's when we had a big -- yet another conversation because we had to have law enforcement have to go to their school and make sure their school security was safe, which it was. And their school is amazing. I just wish I could go there myself and work with the school administrators and make sure that they had a good security plan and they worked with us -- and they were just awesome. We had a private security firm as well.

And so now they're aware. But we don't want to scare them. They're just aware. We want to make them situationally aware, but not freaked out or paranoid, because it's no way to live your life. But my youngest feels like, yeah, I don't want to have anything to do with going outside in front of the house. I don't want to go to ride my bike in front of the house. I don't want to do any of this stuff. And I said, that's what I can't handle.

Okay. We're going to need to go. We're going to need to go. If you don't feel safe in your own home, we have to leave.

STU: Dana, do you find it odd how here we are talking about people like Harvey Weinstein and how these powerful men are abusing women by the thousands and thousands and people are tweeting about it and telling all their stories, and at the same time, these same people are asking for the Second Amendment to essentially go away, so that women have no way to defend themselves.

DANA: I think that's a good point. And I had that observation just I guess right after the Weinstein thing broke. Because he said he was going to go after gun owners. And he was going to target the NRA. And I thought, well, of course. You're a serial predator. Of course, you want women disarmed. That makes perfect sense. Because rapists and pedophiles and predators agree, they love soft targets. They love them.

And so, yeah, I do find that weird. Because that's one of the biggest reasons I advocate for what I advocate, because I want people to be safe. I want men and women, particularly, to be able to defend themselves. Because as much as -- as empowered as a woman thinks she is and as tough as a woman thinks she is and as many Lara Croft movies as she watches, you are still going to be statistically outweighed by a man. You're still going to be overpowered by a man's mere muscle mass and bone density. You're still going to be overpowered, which is why I carry, because then I can overpower my attacker.

STU: Did you have a moment going through any of this, Dana, that you thought to yourself, you know what, why am I doing this? Why am I bothering?

DANA: Oh, no. No.

STU: Not even a second?

DANA: No. No. No.

I haven't. And I don't know if that's weird or not. But I haven't. I just -- I believe so strongly in what I believe in. I believe I'm on the right side and I'm fighting for truth.

If I were -- if I were pushing propaganda, if I were saying something that I didn't feel in my soul was true, then, yeah, I can see how I would not have a firm foundation on which to stand during difficult times.

But I -- I don't feel that way.

I know that I'm on the right side. I'm talking about defending people's lives, and I can never -- that's a pro-life issue, really. And I can never and will never feel bad about that, ever. Just so long as I'm on the right side, I'm good

GLENN: Have you had anybody from the left reach out to you and at all say, this is inexcusable?

DANA: I've had one reporter at CNN, who reached out privately, which I thought was nice. Publicly, there have been a few progressive men and progressive women. And I think perhaps the biggest name among those was Chelsea Clinton. Which -- and to her credit, she did not -- and you know I wouldn't -- I wouldn't mince my words. But to her credit, she didn't -- she didn't predicate it upon anything. And she just said, this is awful, period. And it should be. Because that had other people say, well, despite the politics, I still think -- that's irrelevant.

Because here's the thing: We're all citizens first. And this is where your identity politics stuff has got to stop. Everybody -- we are Democrat and Republican and conservative and progressive. Everything else comes after -- you know, I listed as a child of God. Then you're an American citizen. And then you can be all the other stuff you want to be. But people don't have their priorities right in terms of identity. And that's what's messing everybody up. Everybody wants to focus on all of the places in which they're different. And I did appreciate that Chelsea Clinton tweeted that. Because she got right to the point. She didn't predicate it on anything. It was just simply, it was wrong. And that's what people need to do. Now, I know that everyone said, well, it exists on the right and the left, this stuff. And it does.

It absolutely does.

GLENN: And we stand against it, when it happens on the right.

DANA: Exactly. That's absolutely right. And you have done that, and I have done that.

But here's the big difference though: There is a big difference. It is perceived. The perceived and treated differently on the public stage.

GLENN: Yes.

DANA: When you have a progressive woman and a conservative woman, if they receive the same foul treatment, it's virtuous for the progressive and the conservative woman, it doesn't exist.

And that's what I want to stop.

GLENN: Dana Loesch, best of luck. God bless you.

DANA: Thank you, Glenn. Thank you, Glenn.

GLENN: You bet. Buh-bye.

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.

JIM WATSON / Contributor | Getty Images

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.

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.

The Crisis of Meaning: Searching for truth and purpose

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Anxiety, anger, and chronic dissatisfaction signal a country searching for meaning. Without truth and purpose, politics becomes a dangerous substitute for identity.

We have built a world overflowing with noise, convenience, and endless choice, yet something essential has slipped out of reach. You can sense it in the restless mood of the country, the anxiety among young people who cannot explain why they feel empty, in the angry confusion that dominates our politics.

We have more wealth than any nation in history, but the heart of the culture feels strangely malnourished. Before we can debate debt or elections, we must confront the reality that we created a world of things, but not a world of purpose.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

What we are living through is not just economic or political dysfunction. It is the vacuum that appears when a civilization mistakes abundance for meaning.

Modern life is stuffed with everything except what the human soul actually needs. We built systems to make life faster, easier, and more efficient — and then wondered why those systems cannot teach our children who they are, why they matter, or what is worth living for.

We tell the next generation to chase success, influence, and wealth, turning childhood into branding. We ask kids what they want to do, not who they want to be. We build a world wired for dopamine rather than dignity, and then we wonder why so many people feel unmoored.

When everything is curated, optimized, and delivered at the push of a button, the question “what is my life for?” gets lost in the static.

The crisis beneath the headlines

It is not just the young who feel this crisis. Every part of our society is straining under the weight of meaninglessness.

Look at the debt cycle — the mathematical fate no civilization has ever escaped once it crosses a threshold that we seem to have already blown by. While ordinary families feel the pressure, our leaders respond with distraction, with denial, or by rewriting the very history that could have warned us.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

We have entered a cultural moment where the noise is so loud that it drowns out the simplest truths. We are living in a country that no longer knows how to hear itself think.

So people go searching. Some drift toward the false promise of socialism, some toward the empty thrill of rebellion. Some simply check out. When a culture forgets what gives life meaning, it becomes vulnerable to every ideology that offers a quick answer.

The quiet return of meaning

And yet, quietly, something else is happening. Beneath the frustration and cynicism, many Americans are recognizing that meaning does not come from what we own, but from what we honor. It does not rise from success, but from virtue. It does not emerge from noise, but from the small, sacred things that modern life has pushed to the margins — the home, the table, the duty you fulfill, the person you help when no one is watching.

The danger is assuming that this rediscovery happens on its own. It does not.

Reorientation requires intention. It requires rebuilding the habits and virtues that once held us together. It requires telling the truth about our history instead of rewriting it to fit today’s narratives. And it requires acknowledging what has been erased: that meaning is inseparable from God’s presence in a nation’s life.

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Where renewal begins

We have built a world without stillness, and then we wondered why no one can hear the questions that matter. Those questions remain, whether we acknowledge them or not. They do not disappear just because we drown them in entertainment or noise. They wait for us, and the longer we ignore them, the more disoriented we become.

Meaning is still available. It is found in rebuilding the smallest, most human spaces — the places that cannot be digitized, globalized, or automated. The home. The family. The community.

These are the daily virtues that do not trend on social media, but that hold a civilization upright. If we want to repair this country, we begin there, exactly where every durable civilization has always begun: one virtue at a time, one tradition at a time, one generation at a time.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.