Government's involvement in marriage just a creepy threesome between you, your spouse, and the state

To both sides of the marriage debate: now that the Supreme Court has settled things, lets change it all over again.

To both sides of the marriage debate: now that the Supreme Court has settled things, lets change it all over again. My view on marriage - here.

Posted by Stu Burguiere on Saturday, June 27, 2015

Every Saturday morning, I take my son, Zach, out for pancake time. This has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I just want to eat pancakes. We discuss the issues of the day, like the best techniques for tap-tap-tap-swing, which you see here. You probably know it as T-ball, but I mean, look at this blazing speed. I mean, this kid, look at this, all the way home. He’s going to score. I mean, I’m going to give it away, but look at that, perfect. That’s impressive.

I try to indoctrinate him in he being a Philadelphia Eagles fan, guaranteeing him a life of horrific disappointment. Sorry, kid. Oh, and we eat lots of lots of pancakes, lots of pancakes. That’s our tradition, and I’m all about upholding traditions, especially one like that that involves pancakes. In fact, I would say that our little tradition is more valid and way more meaningful than this one.

Yeah, there it is. Or how about this little tradition? Or even this little tradition? Ugh. Time to get antisocial on how we think about marriage. We’ve been in a nonstop, endless conversation about whether the government should recognize same-sex marriage, and I’m sick of it. I’m not saying that marriage isn’t important—quite the contrary. I’m just saying that none of the importance comes from an $80 piece of paper from the state. A marriage license? Seriously, a marriage license, your licensing my love life?

Think about your marriage for a second and break it up by percentage. Yes, I’m a true romantic. Where do you get the value in your marriage? What is important? Well, love, right? Obviously this is usually number one on the list, hopefully. Faith, recognition by your church, your faith is important to most but not everybody. Family, recognition by your family is of course important to some. Kids, having the most stable unit possible to raise a family is important to many, but how about government? Where does government fit in there?

Having faceless bureaucrats hang onto paperwork acknowledging you got married for one or more of those reasons, who is that important to? Who cares if the government recognizes your marriage? I’m not talking about same-sex marriage here. I’m talking about every marriage. I take nothing of value from the fact that the government acknowledges I’m married. I don’t care what they think about it.

I care about what my wife and my family and my kids and my church think about it. I don’t care what my selectmen thinks. That’s why I support marriage equality in its truest form. The government should have no say in it at all for anybody, outside of enforcing personal contracts. So, to be clear, I want the government out of my heterosexual marriage.

So, what are the problems with all of this? Some people will say Stu, what about all those tax breaks for marriage? To the extent that they actually exist, I don’t seem to notice them on April 15th that much. Look, that’s part of it here though. There is no reason to give tax breaks to couples for getting married. I realize that’s not popular probably, but my tax status should not be based on my dating ability. Not to mention if you are getting married to get tax breaks, you definitely should not be getting married.

But we’re told that conservatives are all about tradition. Maybe that’s a big point. I’m not going to be like the media and mock tradition. If the government blessing of your marriage is a time-honored tradition, well, there’s something to be said for that. The only problem is it’s really not that time-honored. As you might imagine, marriage has been going on for quite a long time, longer than the United States has even been a country.

Let’s start by going way back. For centuries, Christianity recognized marriage as simply if both people said they exchanged vows. It was essentially an agreement between two families. Only by the year 1215 did the church declare that a marriage must take place inside an actual church. In other words, marriage has been going on without government interference for a long time, but you might say okay, yeah, all right, that’s how it was in the 13th century, thanks, Stu, but it’s kind of important to maintain American tradition.

How’s this for traditional? George Washington was married without a marriage license. So was Abraham Lincoln. If arguably our two best presidents can get married without a license, why do you need one so badly? Marriage licenses didn’t become popular in America until the early 20th century. That’s not to say there wasn’t any government involvement, but the progressive era changed a lot of things. Like all other origins of government-issued licenses, this was about control. Conservatives know this.

The government doesn’t get involved in your life because they want to give you a pat on the back because you found someone you really like. For some reason, we’ve started considering marriage licenses like they’re wedding presents. To be clear, the government’s licensing of marriage is not a congratulations that you found love. The real reason the government started granting marriage licenses was to control love.

By the 1920s, 38 states had laws prohibiting whites from marrying blacks, Japanese, Chinese, Indians, you name it. If you want to figure out who you can love, just look at this handy-dandy chart. This is great. It’s going to really explain it for you. If you’re one-eighth black, you can get married in all these states. Of course, over here you’ve got to be a quarter.

Over time, marriage has really changed. Marriage licenses became less about enforcing racism and more about how to distribute wealth. The government relies on your marriage license to make all kinds of financial decisions—tax rates, Social Security, inheritance, but all this could be done with personal contracts between consenting adults. Then churches can decide if they approve of those unions or not.

In other words, your marriage license is a racist wealth distributor. Why are you supporting it? Why are conservatives really for this? Why are we fighting for something like this? Guys, come on. Let’s have a nice little ceremony here, because if you think about it, this state-mandated marriage between this lovely bride and groom is actually not really a state-mandated marriage. It’s kind of a threesome: man, woman, and state—the creepy, creepy state.

The day you say your vows, you’re also allowing the state into your marriage as long as you both or as long as you all shall live. Signing that piece of paper is just proof of your consummation with the state. That’s just as creepy as it gets. So, to review, marriage licenses have a racist past. I’m for true marriage equality. Get the government out of every marriage. And no one wants to think about a threesome with Jeffy—least of all, these two people.

Carter Page, a former advisor to Donald Trump's 2016 presidential campaign, found himself at the center of the Russia probe and had his reputation and career destroyed by what we now know were lies from our own intelligence system and the media.

On the TV show Thursday, Page joined Glenn Beck to speak out about how he became the subject of illegal electronic surveillance by the FBI for more than two years, and revealed the extent of the corruption that has infiltrated our legal systems and our country as a whole.

"To me, the bigger issue is how much damage this has done to our country," Page told Glenn. "I've been very patient in trying to ... find help with finding solutions and correcting this terrible thing which has happened to our country, our judicial system, DOJ, FBI -- these once-great institutions. And my bigger concern is the fact that, although we keep taking these steps forward in terms of these important findings, it really remains the tip of the iceberg."

Page was referencing the report by Justice Department Inspector General Michael Horowitz, which revealed that the FBI made "at least 17 significant errors or omissions" in its Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act (FISA) applications for warrants to spy on Page, a U.S. citizen.

"I think this needs to be attacked from all angles," Glenn said. "The one angle I'm interested in from you is, please tell me you have the biggest badass attorneys that are hungry, starving, maybe are a little low to pay their Mercedes payments right now, and are just gearing up to come after the government and the media. Are they?"

I can confirm that that is the case," Page replied.

Watch the video clip below for a preview of the full-length interview:

The full interview will air on January 30th for Blaze TV subscribers, and February 1st on YouTube and wherever you get your podcast.

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On Wednesday's TV show, Glenn Beck sat down with radio show host, author, political commentator, and film critic, Michael Medved.

Michael had an interesting prediction for the 2020 election outcome: a brokered convention by the DNC will usher in former First Lady Michelle Obama to run against President Donald Trump.

Watch the video below to hear why he's making this surprising forecast:

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On Thursday's "Glenn Beck Radio Program," BlazeTV's White House correspondent Jon Miller described the current situation in Virginia after Gov. Ralph Northam (D) declared a state of emergency and banned people carrying guns at Capitol Square just days before a pro-Second-Amendment rally scheduled on Martin Luther King Jr. Day.

Jon told Glenn that Gov. Northam and the Virginia Legislature are "trying to deprive the people of their Second Amendment rights" but the citizens of Virginia are "rising up" to defend their constitutional rights.

"I do think this is the flashpoint," Jon said. "They [Virginia lawmakers] are saying, 'You cannot exercise your rights ... and instead of trying to de-escalate the situation, we are putting pressure. We're trying to escalate it and we're trying to enrage the citizenry even more'."

Glenn noted how Gov. Northam initially blamed the threat of violence from Antifa for his decision to ban weapons but quickly changed his narrative to blame "white supremacists" to vilify the people who are standing up for the Second Amendment and the Constitution.

"What he's doing is, he's making all all the law-abiding citizens of Virginia into white supremacists," Glenn said.

"Sadly, that's exactly right," Jon replied. "And I think he knows exactly what he's doing."

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Ryan: Trump Louisiana Finale

Photo by Jim Dale

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

At the end of Trump rallies, I would throw on my Carhartt jacket, sneak out of the press area, then blend in with everyone as they left, filing out through swinging doors.

Often, someone held the door open for me. Just 30 minutes earlier, the same person had most likely had most likely hissed at me for being a journalist. And now they were Sunday smiles and "Oh, yes, thank you, sir" like some redneck concierge.

People flooded out of the arena with the stupidity of a fire drill mishap, desperate to survive.

The air smacked you as soon as you crossed the threshold, back into Louisiana. And the lawn was a wasteland of camping chairs and coolers and shopping bags and to-go containers and soda cans and articles of clothing and even a few tents.

In Monroe, in the dark, the Trump supporters bobbled over mounds of waste like elephants trying to tiptoe. And the trash was as neutral to them as concrete or grass. They plodded over it because it, an object, had somehow gotten in their way.

It did not matter that they were responsible for this wreckage.Out in the sharp-edged moonlight, rally-goers hooted and yapped and boogied and danced, and the bbq food truck was all smoke and paper plates.

They were even more pumped than they had been before the rally, like 6,000 eight year olds who'd been chugging Mountain Dew for hours. Which made Donald Trump the father, the trooper, God of the Underworld, Mr. Elite, Sheriff on high horse, the AR-15 sticker of the family.

Ritualistic mayhem, all at once. And, there in Louisiana, Trump's supporters had gotten a taste of it. They were all so happy. It bordered on rage.

Still, I could not imagine their view of America. Worse, after a day of strange hostilities, I did not care.

My highest priority, my job as a reporter, was to care. To understand them and the world that they inhabit. But I did not give a damn and I never wanted to come back.

Worst of all, I would be back. In less than a week.

Was this how dogs felt on the 4th of July? Hunched in a corner while everyone else gets drunk and launches wailing light into the sky? configurations of blue and red and white.

It was 10:00 p.m. and we'd been traveling since 11:00 a.m., and we still had 5 hours to go and all I wanted was a home, my home, any home, just not here, in the cold sweat of this nowhere. Grey-mangled sky. No evidence of planes or satellites or any proof of modern-day. Just century-old bridges that trains shuffled over one clack at a time.

And casinos, all spangles and neon like the 1960s in Las Vegas. Kitchy and dumb, too tacky for lighthearted gambling. And only in the nicer cities, like Shreveport, which is not nice at all.

And swamp. Black water that rarely shimmered. Inhabited by gadflies and leeches and not one single fish that was pretty.

Full of alligators, and other killing types. The storks gnawing on frogs, the vultures never hungry. The coyotes with nobody to stop them and so much land to themselves. The roaches in the wild, like tiny wildebeests.

Then, the occasional deer carcass on the side of the road, eyes splayed as if distracted, tongue out, relaxed but empty. The diseased willows like skeletons in hairnets. The owls that never quit staring. A million facets of wilderness that would outlive us all.

Because Nature has poise. It thrives and is original.

Because silence is impossible. Even in an anechoic chamber, perfectly soundproofed, you can hear your own heartbeat, steady as a drum. A never-ending war.

I put "Headache" by Grouper on repeat as we glided west. We were deadlocked to asphalt, rubber over tarface.

And I thought about lines from a Rita Dove poem titled "I have been a stranger in a strange land"

He was off cataloging the universe, probably,
pretending he could organize
what was clearly someone else's chaos.

Wasn't that exactly what I was doing? Looking for an impossible answer, examining every single accident, eager for meaning? telling myself, "If it happens and matters the next year, in America, I want to be there, or to know what it means. I owe it to whoever cares to listen."

Humans are collectors and I had gone overboard.

Because maybe this wasn't even my home. These landmarks, what did they mean? Was I obvious here? When I smiled, did I trick them into believing that I felt some vague sense of approval? Or did my expressions betray me?

Out in all that garbage-streaked emptiness — despite the occasional burst of passing halogen — I couldn't tell if everything we encountered was haunted or just old, derelict, broken, useless. One never-ending landfill.

Around those parts, they'd made everything into junk. Homes. Roads. Glass. Nature. Life itself, they made into junk.

I cringed as we passed yet another deer carcass mounded on the side of the road.

As written in Job 35:11,

Who teaches us more than the beasts of the earth and makes us wiser than the birds in the sky?

Nobody. Look at nature and you feel something powerful. Look at an animal, in all of its untamable majesty, and you capture a deep love, all swept up in the power of creation. But, here, all I saw were poor creatures who people had slammed into and kept driving. Driving to where? For what reason? What exactly was so important that they left a trail of dead animals behind them?

So I crossed myself dolorously and said an "Our Father" and recited a stanza from Charles Bukowski's "The Laughing Heart"

you can't beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.

Out here, nothing but darkness. Needing some light, by God. Give me something better than a Moon that hides like an underfed coward.

Jade told me about some of the more traumatic things she'd seen while working at the State Fair.

"Bro, they pull roaches out of the iced lemonade jugs and act like nothing happened."

"All right but what about the corn dogs?"

"You do not want to know, little bro."

She looked around in the quiet. "Back in the day, the Louisiana Congress refused to raise the drinking age from 18 to 21," she said. "They didn't want to lose all that drunk gambler money. So the federal government cut off funding to highways."

We glided through moon-pale landscape for an hour before I realized what she had meant. That there weren't any light poles or billboards along the road. Nothing to guide us or distract us. Just us, alone. And it felt like outer space had collapsed, swallowed us like jellybeans.

Like two teenagers playing a prank on the universe.

In the cozy Subaru Crosstrek, in the old wild night, brimming with the uncertainty of life and the nonchalance of failure, we paraded ourselves back to Dallas. Alive in the river silence that follows us everywhere.

New installments come Mondays and Thursdays. Next, the Iowa caucuses. Check out my Twitter. Email me at kryan@blazemedia.com