It is time to come together and lead people out of the darkness

You may have noticed that Glenn has had a wide range of guests on his programs this week. From Montel Williams to Rabbi Irwin Kula, James Altucher to Kamal Ravikant, Glenn has been speaking to individuals who might not agree with him politically but share common principles and passions. Glenn opened this morning’s radio program with monologue centered on the importance of joining together with those who may have once made us uncomfortable in order to lead people out of the darkness.

Below is an edited transcript of the monologue:

Yesterday, I had several people in my studios here who are very different than me. I have a new friend in Rabbi Irwin Kula. Rabbi Kula is a New York liberal rabbi who three years ago didn't even want to meet with me. He was like, ‘I don't think I'm going to meet with devil boy.’ But he did because he is a man of integrity and courage, and we sat down and had a great conversation.

I told him at that time, ‘Rabbi, here's what I think is coming. And here is what I think we need to do. And I would just ask that you would pray on that and see if you can help.’ A year went by and we saw each other again. And he said, ‘You know what I've learned in the last year?’ And I said, ‘No, sir.’ And he said, ‘How many people have unreasonable hatred for you.’ I said, ‘Do you remember when I asked if we could meet together?’ He said he never hated me. I was a cartoon character to him. And he said, ‘Now my life is so amazing because I am witnessing unreasonable hatred that I never knew.’ And he said, ‘Being your friend is interesting.’ I said, ‘I understand that.’ A year goes by. And he said to me, ‘I'm beginning to understand what you're talking about. I'm seeing what you're seeing now, with the hatred that is growing on all sides. I want to talk you more about it.’ This is before I gave a speech someplace, and he happened to be there. He came up to me afterwards and he hugged me and he was crying and he said, ‘I'm in. I'm in.’

We've been trying to get together now for the last eight months. And we keep missing each other. And finally he got on the plane and he came down yesterday and he sat with me. We had such an amazing chat. A chat about the hole that so many people are feeling. The hole that our kids are cutting themselves, our kids are killing themselves, and everybody is talking about gun regulation. Even, you know, with me, I'm talking about video games. But really, what we should be talking about is the hole that everyone is trying to fill. And we're all filling it.

We're all addicted to something. I want you to really think to yourself: What is it that you're addicted to? And when I say ‘addicted to,’ what I mean is: If I asked you to put it away for a month, could you do it or would you do it? If I said, don't have any coffee for a month, don't have any alcohol for a month, don't have a cigarette for a month, don't view pornography for a month, don't use the Internet for a month, don't use your cell phone or text message or email for a month. Would you do it? Different question than could you do it. Would you do it? Most of us at first would say, ‘Oh, it can't be done.’ But I would challenge you.

Five years ago you didn't have an iPhone. Five years ago you weren't texting. Five years ago you didn't have Facebook. Five years ago we didn't have Twitter. So these things we all lived without just a very short period ago. So the answer is: Yes, you could. But would you?

We are so busy checking the mail. How many times have we been in a conversation. I was just in a conversation… and somebody pulls out their phone because they just got a little buzzzz, and I looked down, ‘Oh, news item just happened.’ Really? I haven't seen you in four months. How about we have a conversation? I didn't even notice it because I thought, ‘Oh, wow, that's important news.’ But was it? Really? I mean I would have found out that news in just a few minutes. Is that news going to affect us somehow or another? Do we need to know exactly what's happening? I understand we're in the news business, so yes, we do. But I'm asking you: When you find out, oh, the guy from the V.A. just apologized. Is that something that you need to know right now? Are you going to affect that somehow or another? Does Washington affect you somehow or another? We're watching the Kardashians, not all of us, thank God.

This is a historic studio. This is where they made JFK and portions of Forrest Gump. All the Barneys were done here. Prison Break was filmed here. Robocop was filmed here. Silkwood was filmed here. These are historic studios. But these studios fell into disrepair, and they just went dark. I really just think they just went dark. This was a bad building when we first came into it. You could feel it. The people were miserable here. It was bad. And we have spent now the last year… trying to get the bad karma out of this building and change the way it feels and the way we relate to each other. And it has been quite a journey.

Yesterday, the [Rabbi Kula] walks in and, I mean, most rabbis that I know, they live in their head. Israel means ‘to wrestle with God.’ That's what the translation is. ‘One who wrestles with God.’ And so most rabbis that I know, they live in their head, and they wrestle with God, and they're just these giant brains. I have met – on very rare occasion – one that lives in the head and the heart… And he walked in here and he said, ‘Boy, there is something happening here.’ I said, ‘Yes, there is, Rabbi.’ And we started to talk and he never talked about my community. He talked about his community. And he said, ‘Let me take the beam out of my own eye before I worry about the speck in somebody else's.’ He said, ‘There's so much hate in my community.’ Now, he's assuming – and I'm going to assume that you are doing the same – as I relate this story, that you're now thinking about the hate in our community. But he said, ‘There is so much hate in my community. And it's becoming unreasonable. And it's because we're lying to each other. We are lying about everything. We're lying about our lives. We're lying about the future. And we're all afraid. And we're lying that we're not afraid. You watch news and they're lying to you about what's happening in Washington. They're lying to you about what's happening with the banks. They're lying to you. And we're starting to separate from each other.’ And he put his head in his hands and the man wept.

We have to love each other. I want to read something we put up on this chalkboard. We have this giant hallway in this studio. It's a four-story atrium in the middle of the studio and this hallway. This is probably 20 feet tall and 40 feet long. It's chalkboard on the side. And I wanted to show you what I wrote on this. And this is for my staff to read:

I believe the world doesn't have to suck. But for that to be true, we have to be our better selves. We must empower, forgive, lift, enlighten, hope, dream, create, and above all, love. Most people will laugh at this idea. Let them. We won't notice it because we'll be busy changing the world. So to all those who visit here, welcome and join us. To the rest of the world, we may appear as mad men. We actually like it that way because they'll never see us coming.

That is a message that I gave my staff and that is a message that I give you today. Religion has been so corrupted. Religion has gone so dead and cold. Religion has become about rules and not about love. It has been about making money and building bigger churches and rock bands or whatever it is, and not about service.

I remember when I said to my wife, ‘Will you marry me?’ And she said, ‘No.’ And I said, ‘Okay, that's not the actual answer I was looking for. How come?’ And she said, ‘Because we don't have God in common.’ And I said, ‘Honey, I believe in God deeply. I just don't go to church because I don't believe in church.’ And she said, ‘We're not going to get married unless we go to church.’ And I said, ‘You got to be kidding me. You come over to my house on Sunday. I have gotten up and I've just watched like The Sopranos on HBO and I'm in a perfectly good mood. I'm good. You, on the other hand, have gone to church. And so now you come over and you spend the first 20 minutes talking to me about how everybody was honking their horns. How everybody -- somebody flipped you off while you were trying to get out of the parking lot. How people only went for 45 minutes and as soon as they had the sacrament, they were gone. Why would I want to go there? I'm great watching The Sopranos. Why would I want to go to that?’ We hadn't found what they were looking for.

But I challenge you. I'm not talking about religion. I'm talking about finding something that fills that hole that doesn't come from man. I don't care what it is, but find something that is bigger than you. The reason why our kids are cutting themselves, the reason why our kids are shooting, the reason why these video games are dangerous is because it aids in the going dead inside. It speeds the process up. There is nothing our kids are shocked by. Nothing.

Do you remember how frightened you were of some things when you were little? Our kids have seen it all. They have seen murders. They have seen rapes. They have seen bloody, dead bodies. They have seen it all. So there's nothing that shocks them and on top of it, there's nothing sacred. There's no reason to be reverent for anything or anybody. Tell me the things you believe in. Tell me the things that are bigger than you. Tell me the things you think your kids have reverence for. Go into our churches. There's no quiet space. If it's quiet, it's because everybody is on their cell phones or their iPads and they're texting. The only reason why it's quiet is because they're living in the cyber world. What is it that fills that?

I challenge you to find something that fills that. That's real. That you're not going to lose if the economy goes down. That will make you stronger if you lose your job. Not weaker. Something that you cannot lose, something that is a lighthouse. It's a polar star. What is it for you?

And then I challenge you to start looking for people that make you uncomfortable. I've had a conversation with Montel Williams this week that was necessarily uncomfortable for him. I've had a Rabbi from the Upper West Side of Manhattan. That wasn't comfortable. We have to start reaching out to people and the best thing about this audience is we have always tried to push and prod and poke and in a safe place make you uncomfortable – just be true. Just be honest. Not ever saying what I think you want to hear. But saying what I believe.

You have this amazing elastic mind that most audiences don't have. You go and look at an NBC audience and they do not have the ability to think out of the box. They don't have the ability to go into an uncomfortable place. And that's the same with most audiences, left or right. You're different. Go find and seek those people because I'm telling you, we need to tie each other together. We need to rope each other together. And we need to find our polar star, so we can lead people out of the darkness.

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.

Why do Americans feel so empty?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The crisis beneath the headlines

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

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

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

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

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

The quiet return of meaning

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

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

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

Harold M. Lambert / Contributor | Getty Images

Where renewal begins

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

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

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

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

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

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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.

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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

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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.

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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.