Why War Veteran and Quadruple Amputee Travis Mills Is Thankful and 'Tough as They Come'

It's a love-hate relationship. While Glenn and his co-hosts love visiting with Travis Mills, retired United States Army Staff Sergeant and recalibrated warrior, it's a stark reminder of their physical shortcomings.

"We love having him here. He's the author of the book, Tough As They Come. And . . . we actually don't like having him because we always feel like the biggest weenies on the planet," Glenn said Thursday on his radio program.

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Travis lost his arms and legs in the service of his country, but you won't hear him playing the victim.

"I go to the CrossFit gym. I really like to socialize a lot," Travis said.

When he's not at the gym, Travis travels the country sharing his inspirational message and helping other wounded war heroes. His bestselling book, Tough As They Come, was released this week in paperback. Travis additionally founded the Travis Mills Foundation, a nonprofit that benefits and assists wounded and injured veterans and their families.

Read below or watch the clip for answers to these questions:

• Would Travis go back in time and change things if he could?

• Why is Travis thankful to be taking his daughter trick-or-treating?

• What four items must be in a care package for service members overseas?

• Will Glenn, Pat or Jeffy ever make it to the gym?

• Can you get PTSD from watching a TV show?

Below is a rush transcript of this segment, it might contain errors:

GLENN: Good friend of ours is back into town. A guy who we had on about a year ago and has a great sense of humor and also has a mission in his life, I think because of what gave him a great sense of humor. Travis Mills is back in. We begin with him, right now.

(music)

GLENN: Travis Mills is back into town. We love having him here. He's the author of the book, tough as they come. And we -- we actually don't like having him. Because we always feel like the biggest weenies on the planet.

He's talking about -- he has no arms and no legs. He lost them in the service of his country. And he's just talking about swimming and going to the gym every day and how he listens to us at the gym. And we have arms and legs, and we don't even go to the gym.

PAT: Haven't seen a gym in years.

GLENN: No, uh-uh. I don't even like people named Jim.

PAT: I don't even like to drive by them.

GLENN: Right.

TRAVIS: No, I understand that. And I -- you know, I go when I'm at home. I go to the cross-fit gym. I really like to socialize a lot. They're like, come on, Travis. You got to do stuff. And I'm like, I'm kind of busy talking. So don't think -- you know, I have cool tricks. Like, check these pecks out. You know what I'm saying? I can do some things.

GLENN: You can do that. You got that going for you.

TRAVIS: I'm glad you allowed me to believe back and hang out with you some fine gentlemen.

PAT: I don't know who you're talking about --

GLENN: Yeah, he obviously has no judgment either.

So just recap your story real quick, the story of the book.

TRAVIS: Absolutely.

GLENN: And your near-death experience, in case people don't know who you are.

TRAVIS: Yeah, so I'm from Michigan originally. My mom and dad had me. I was a middle child. So they had the first one. They were like, not what we want. Second one, perfection. Third one, crap. Not Travis. But I digress.

JEFFY: That's the way it goes.

TRAVIS: After high school, I went to college. My girlfriend said she moved home. I moved home. Found out she had a boyfriend. Joined the military.

My third deployment, my wife and I were doing well. Had a house and everything out of Fort Bragg, North Carolina. The 82nd Airborne Division.

Third deployment came up. I decided I was going to go. I had orders to take me somewhere else. I didn't want to go somewhere else. I went on patrol two months there -- a month and a half into my deployment. You know, hit a bomb. IED. And it ripped off portions of my arms and legs.

At the bicep -- my right arm and right leg, at the knee, disintegrated and gone. Left leg snapped to the bone and left arm was blown out the wrist. But hand was still there. So I hit the ground. I radioed my LT with my left arm. I said, "Hey, six. This is four. Just hit a bomb."

My medic came up to me, started working on me. I told him, leave me alone. He just said, let me do my job. Tourniquets. Operating table. Eventually, 14 hours of surgery. Nine doctors and seven nurses put me back together, I guess in a way or got me stable. Two nurses for nine hours just pumped air into my lungs, keep me alive.

And I made it to Walter Reed on April 17th for the first time. And my wife when I first saw her, she had to sign papers to cut my right leg up higher. It wasn't that Kodak moment you would think. She had to do that. And then the next day, I told Kelsey, she walked in, I said, look, honey, you don't got to do this. Like, this is not the life you chose. I'm not the 6-3, 250-pound behemoth of a good-looking man anymore. You know, and I basically just gave her the out.

She said, "That's not how this works. We're going to do this together." And she also said, "And I want the handicapped parking." So, I mean, I get it. I get it.

PAT: So she really kept you around for Christmas time.

GLENN: She has unbelievable parking spots.

PAT: Yeah.

TRAVIS: When she said she was going to stay -- I had a little girl, six months old, who I thought would think I was a monster. But obviously I didn't realize I looked like every single toy she's been given.

GLENN: Right.

TRAVIS: Yeah, short arms, short legs, fuzzy chest. Teddy bear.

But it just came down to a choice. You know, get better. Push forward in life. Learn the difference between reminiscing and dwelling. So I reminisce the past, but I don't dwell on it.

GLENN: What's the difference?

TRAVIS: You know, I reminisce the past. I'm very thankful. I've met a lot of people, a lot of children actually, that never had the ability to have arms and legs. Never had the ability to grow up healthy and strong and to go places. And I did.

And, you know what, I can't change the fact that I got blown up. I can't change the fact that my arms and legs are gone. But what I can do is push forward every day and be thankful for that.

You know, I'm able to speak for my speaking company across the nation because of this book. And the things that it's unlocked for me, the doors it's opened. I'm able to go and tell people about perspective. And it's all about perspective.

You know, my message is never stop. You know, never give up. Never quit. Always keep going.

And I just -- you know, you got to be resilient to things. But when I look back in the past, I can be like, "Oh, well, this sucks. This is miserable. Why would I want this ever?"

But the truth is, I didn't choose it. But I choose to shape my attitude to keep going forward and being positive.

My little girl, I take her to school in the mornings. I hit the gym after that. In between that time, I'm listening to the radio. You know. Yeah. Eh. Eh. You guys.

GLENN: Eh. He's pointing to us. I'm not sure, but I think he's pointing to us.

TRAVIS: Yeah. But, you know, from this book, I'm able to you tell my story in a positive way. I don't sit there and call myself wounded.

GLENN: If you -- if you could --

PAT: What an important message for this victim culture.

TRAVIS: Yeah, I never play the victim.

PAT: That's just unbelievable. Because so many people are victims from words or Halloween costumes.

TRAVIS: I saw it at Target.

PAT: It's gotten that ridiculous now. And here you are, who have gotten blown up literally, and you've chosen to be positive about it.

GLENN: Can I ask you this? And this is a hard question to ask because nobody would ever -- you know, nobody is choosing -- you know what I want -- when I grow up, I want to go to war and have my limbs blown off. So I don't mean it that way.

TRAVIS: Oh, I understand.

GLENN: But knowing who you are and where you are now, do you regret that day?

TRAVIS: Oh, absolutely. I mean, I get asked that all the time. You know, would you go back in time with all the great things you're doing? I say absolutely I would.

PAT: Yes.

TRAVIS: I would love to take my kid and throw her in the air and catch her.

PAT: Heck, yeah.

GLENN: How would you be different today?

TRAVIS: I would probably be an E-7. Maybe be working on E-8 in the military. I'd probably have two more kids. We're working on kids now. I'm fully capable. Still works, if anybody is wondering.

GLENN: TMI.

JEFFY: No judging. We're not judging.

GLENN: Nobody was questioning that.

TRAVIS: Some people do. They wonder.

GLENN: Don't really need to know.

TRAVIS: But, you know, I would still be a family man. I'd still be taking care of business. This has just allowed me to take a negative, turn it into a positive --

GLENN: So you believe that the core of who you are now was already there?

TRAVIS: I was the same person. You know, my wife is happy. And also she thought there probably could be some characteristic traits changed a little bit. But I'm the same person that I was before.

And, really, when it boils down to everything -- you know, there's so many men and women that have lost their lives for this country. And I tell the story of my buddy Francis. Went by Frankie. He was a really close friend of mine. And he didn't make it home. He had a daughter that was four. Now she's going on eight. He had a wife of four years, Christine. And, you know what, he doesn't get to take his daughter trick-or-treating.

On Monday, I'm taking my daughter trick-or-treating. He doesn't get to take his wife on dates. My wife and I go on dates all the time. And my parents are very close to me. His mother would give anything -- his mother would have anything to have him come back. And, you know what, he's not coming back. And it's sad, but it's true.

So why would I want to live my life down and out, you know, dwelling on the past and angry, when I could be out there and changing people's perspective on life, letting them know, life goes on. And think about the lives lost.

GLENN: What do you say to people, who -- they don't even have to be in your situation, they don't even have to go to war, there are a lot of people who are just -- and I'm not talking about clinical depression. I'm talking about just they're feeling sorry for themselves. And they might have good reason to feel sorry for themselves.

TRAVIS: Well, and that's a tricky conversation. Because people see me, and they always think, "Well, jeez, I thought had problems, but looking at you, you know, how did you get through?" And I tell people, it's very clear actually in my book, in the author's note. I said, first thing, if you served, thank you for your service. I did not not serve more than anybody else. I had one bad day at work. Case of the Mondays. We've all been there. But I don't think I served more than anybody else. I raised my right hand and took the oath.

The next line, it basically just states, I don't think my problems are more than anybody else's. You know, we have all our things that we go through. We have family members that deal with cancer. We have things that we go through.

And if my story helps get people through it or past what they're going through, great. If I can be a positive light or mentor for people, that's what I try to do. But I will never sit there and say, "Well, that's a dumb thing to be upset about, or that's stupid." I get a lot of parents who reach out off my website, and they want to have me talk to their family members and like get them through. I do more of a hard truth campaign. I'm more of like -- a lot of PTSD counseling. I don't have PTSD, fortunately. But a lot of gentlemen I serve with and people I know --

GLENN: Hold it. Hold it. There are people that are claiming now they have PTSD now from watching a TV show. You were blown up, lost your limbs, you don't have PTSD?

TRAVIS: No, I don't regret anything I did overseas. I don't regret anything I did overseas. If anybody does get the book -- not to sell it too hard. Tough As They Come. TravisMills.org. No, I'm kidding. But if anybody does get the book, you're going to find out, yes, I've killed people. Yes, I've put friends in body bags. Yes, I've had every single thing that people could claim for PTSD that would affect them later on. But I don't.

I know what my direction in life is. You know, the book is faith-based. So it's just -- it took me a while to get back to that, about two or three weeks, I guess.

But, really, you know, that is a long time. Because you can be a believer all you want, until the day it happens, and then you're like, "What the heck. Am I a bad person?" And then you have to get back on track. You know, bad things happen to good people. But for PTSD --

GLENN: So when you're -- when you're on the phone with these parents and they want you to say, what, to their --

TRAVIS: A lot of people just want to know, like how can I get them motivated to get out of the couch? If I talk to this person or that's going through something, I'm like, "Look, why are you letting one day or one week or one month hold up your whole entire life? Why dwell on the past?" Think about the lives that are lost. Think about the people that would give anything to have the opportunity to still live in, you know, the greatest country in the world, with the democracies and the freedoms that we have.

Why not get out there and go forward in life? Why be the victim? Why dwell on it?

You will never see me the sob story. I will never ever be the one that is like, you know, oh, poor me, pity me. I don't want to be the sob story. I don't have people pity me. I don't even call myself wounded. I mean, I used to be. I have awesome scars. Ladies, I'm married. But I have awesome scars. And, you know what, I'm a recalibrated warrior, if you want to call me anything. But I go by Travis. And I'm just thankful to get out there.

I mean, if anybody wants to know my story, like I said, it's just TravisMills.org. And we appreciate just being be able to push the ball forward and keep moving.

GLENN: Now, you're going around and you're speaking. And one of the things that you're trying to work on is the Maine Chance Lodge veterans retreat. What is that?

TRAVIS: Well, we had the ability to start a foundation. After being at Walter Reed, which is a phenomenal medical facility, we saw all these 501(c)(3)s come in and do some wonderful things. And Kelsey and I said, you know what, let's just start a foundation. We'll just send care packages overseas.

If you have loved ones overseas, send them these four things: Orbit gum, not sweet mint. Okay? Orbit lasts the longest. It's just a fact.

Peppered beef jerky, okay? Peppered beef jerky. Peanut butter M&M's and gummy bears.

GLENN: Wait. Why those two?

TRAVIS: Those are delicious. Everything on that --

GLENN: All right. I thought maybe there was a heat thing.

TRAVIS: No, no. Can you say any of those things are not good?

GLENN: No, I was wondering.

STU: Oh, M&M's are tremendous. I mean, they are delicious. Where are they? Why don't we have some?

TRAVIS: Oh, yeah. Wonderful.

But my wife and I wanted to give back. We thought that would be a good option. Well, then a gentleman from Maine said that he wanted to make friends out, and they started the Travis Mills Project. It would be an umbrella under his foundation, and I would be the face of it, and that would be it.

So he brought some people to Maine, showed them how to kayak, canoe, go boating, swimming, build that network. Say, hey, thanks for your service. Don't live life on the sidelines. You know, here's a network of people you can rely on and lean on, and you can still do things with your family adaptively.

So it went so well, I started raising funds all across Maine and the nation. And we got to the point where it was too much for this foundation to hold. And they said, "Well, this is too big. So we're going to have to just let it fizzle out." I said, "No. No, we're not. So my foundation, which was only care packages, decided we were going to take over."

Now it's a $2.7 million project to get the building done. We were fortunate to raise over a million dollars last year. And this will be done next summer. And we'll be hosting families.

We bring out six to 10 families, up to 35 to 40 people a week. We're going to do five weeks next year. And we're going to bring them from throughout the nation and just bring them in and say, look, I know there's not a lot of people in your community that looks like you. I get that. But here's a network of people to lean on. We appreciate your service. Come on out to Maine. Vacation land is where I live. We show them how to kayak. I go kayaking. I go canoeing. I go swimming. I go tubing. And we do all this stuff. And we bring them out and say, "Thanks for your service." And it's not just the soldiers or the military members that are going through this. It's the families.

GLENN: Have you ever faced anything since the accident that freaked you out of your mind?

TRAVIS: Well, I mean my next goal is to go great white cage diving. Great white shark cave diving because they can't bite my arms and legs off.

GLENN: Right. There's not that much left.

TRAVIS: I will tell you, I wasn't always this positive. It took me a little while where I could look in a mirror at myself after this explosion, you know. But nothing really scares me, you know.

GLENN: So first time you're thrown into the water, you're helpless if you're thrown into the water for the first time, I would imagine. And, you know, you're in a canoe. You don't -- it's not crossed your mind that, crap, I lose these devices and I'm done.

TRAVIS: Well, I mean, I have a life vest. I'm not going to sit there and tell you I don't have a life vest that I wear. My biggest fear is actually water I can't see the bottom of. So fish scare the -- I mean, I was on the lake all summer in Maine. And I jump in and I have to be brave because my little girl, who is five, is sitting there next to me swimming, having a great time. And I can't let her see that I'm so afraid something is going to come bite me. But, I mean, it's like the biggest fear I have.

STU: Yeah, sometimes they like bump into you, underwater. And that's creepy -- and that's creepy man.

TRAVIS: No, it better not. You'll see me walk on water if that happens.

But, you know, it's just about coming together and doing something great. Saying thank you for your service. We really appreciate it. My foundation, I'm the president, okay? We have a great board. A great board of people, and we're never going to take a dollar. We're never going to pay ourselves. It's all voluntarily. People can see my 990s (phonetic), and they can understand that this is one of the A-rated nonprofits. And we're going to keep that driving forward. Obviously, we're taking donations and funds. We're building a pool right now. We need an elevator to go into the building. Because (unintelligible) -- from 1929, it was massive. And we had to -- this undertaking. The construction.

GLENN: Wow.

PAT: So how do people donate?

TRAVIS: Just TravisMills.org. Foundation tab. Again, I'm not trying to like push that agenda, but at the same time, please check us out. You know, the book is on the New York Times bestseller. It's doing fairly well. We just had that paperback come out two days ago. The cover on it is my daughter and me. You know, my daughter, Chloe and I, we're best friends, and I'm very proud of that.

GLENN: Nothing better.

TRAVIS: What's that?

GLENN: Nothing better.

TRAVIS: No, no. My little girl, she's awesome. She woke up this morning, and we were playing hide-and-seek in the hotel room. I mean, big hotel room, but we were trying. We were trying.

STU: Just a general charity question, how many 6-foot oil paintings of yourself have you purchased with charity dollars?

GLENN: None.

STU: Interesting approach.

TRAVIS: You know, we're almost to the point where -- no, I'm kidding. It's not -- I'm 17 miles away. My house is 17 miles away from this place. I'll never be a guest. I will go out there. I will hang out for the day. I will meet these families. I will encourage them to do better. But it's not about me being out there and taking advantage. I'm not doing this for myself.

So I might go out there to introduce myself on the first day. And I might have meetings and traveling. I mean, next week, I'm in Minnesota to Charlotte, to Chicago. I'll be speaking for Allstate in Chicago on Veterans Day. Then I'm back to Maine, to California.

But, you know, I want to make sure I greet these families. We appreciate what you're doing. Enjoy. Please, you know, this is all about being able to get back with your families. Learn how to do things adaptively. And take this knowledge and abilities back where you live. And, you know, I might -- we'll see what my future holds. Probably politics, I would imagine.

GLENN: Ooh.

TRAVIS: I will tell you, I love what's going on right now. Isn't it exciting?

STU: Yeah.

GLENN: Do you?

STU: You can have it.

GLENN: It's all yours, brother. Congratulations, it's all years.

STU: It would be nice to have somebody who would actually be trustworthy running. So please do. We need somebody good to run.

GLENN: Please do.

TRAVIS: Yeah. Because it's not an exciting time for politics, in the most weird way.

GLENN: Yeah. No, no.

TRAVIS: It's the most awkwardly exciting, weirdest time ever.

GLENN: No, no.

TRAVIS: Oh, you'll never find a political post on my Facebook page, no way. I'm never choosing sides. I got to stay right neutral. Because the foundation -- I don't want to hurt my foundation because of one side or the other.

STU: Yeah.

TRAVIS: And that's the world we live in.

STU: It's too important.

GLENN: Travis, I'm glad to have you on again. TravisMills.org. TravisMills.org, if you want to help. And grab his book, Tough As They Come. TravisMills.org. Thanks for coming by.

Featured Image: Screenshot from The Glenn Beck Program

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.

Grim warning: Bad-faith Israel critics duck REAL questions

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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.

Anadolu / Contributor | Getty Images

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.