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Glenn's Show Prep

Do Hollywood Elites Look Better in HD or 4K Ultra HD?

January 09, 2017
Staff

WRITER

What could cause a tough and seasoned radio commentator to watch a bunch of Hollywood elites rubbing elbows, patting backs and sharing their politic views during acceptance speeches? One thing and one thing only: a new 4K Ultra HD TV.

"Now we find out the real reason why Pat watched the Golden Globes," Glenn said Monday on radio.

Pat Gray, co-host of The Glenn Beck Program, received a very nice TV from his wife for Christmas.

"Anything that's in 4K, I'm there. So when the Globes came on, I thought, Oh, look at that, it seems to be ultra HD 4K. But I lasted about 10 minutes," Pat said.

Luckily, that 10 minutes did not include Meryl Streep's diatribe on the persecution of Hollywood actors.

Listen to this segment from The Glenn Beck Program:

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

GLENN: Four millennials pick up this handicap kid and beat on him. I'm having a hard time with the CBS story because it doesn't sound like the same story that we all saw last week. We'll give that to you here in just a second. Also, did anybody watch the Golden Globes? I mean, I didn't. Did anybody turn them on. Believe it or not, Pat --

PAT: I tried to. I tried to watch for a minute.

GLENN: Why? Why?

PAT: I just wanted to see what movies were going to get awards.

GLENN: The ones you haven't seen.

PAT: Eh, it turns out that way. Pretty much.

GLENN: It turns out that way every time. And lo and behold, some of the speeches given --

PAT: Oh, agonizing.

GLENN: Of course. That's why we didn't watch it, Pat. We didn't watch it. We begin there, right now.

(music)

GLENN: Wow. Pat watched it. Now we find out the real reason why patched watched the Golden Globes. His wife gave him -- I mean --

PAT: A nice TV for Christmas.

GLENN: I don't know where this came from. She gave him a big 4K TV.

PAT: Uh-huh.

GLENN: And so you're just watching anything in 4K.

PAT: Anything that's in 4K, I'm there. So when the Globes came on, I thought, "Oh, look at that, it seems to be --

JEFFY: Oh, Jennifer Lawrence, 4K.

PAT: -- ultra HD 4K. But I lasted about ten minutes.

GLENN: Did they look different in 4K?

PAT: Yeah, you can see everything. It's like x-ray vision. You can see their underwear. It's amazing.

GLENN: No, seriously. No, seriously.

PAT: I mean, everything is so much clearer. It's just that much more vivid. You know how blurry regular TV, standard television looks now when you have HD?

GLENN: Yes, yes, yes.

PAT: It's the same from HD to 4K.

JEFFY: Tell us how -- tell us how blurry it is, Pat.

PAT: That dramatic?

PAT: It's pretty dramatic.

So it's really blurry. Yeah.

GLENN: So do they look better, worse, or about the same?

PAT: They look worse. They look better now than they did -- well, it depends on who you're looking at, obviously, like always. Like always.

JEFFY: Yeah.

STU: It's amazing though because I remember when HD came out. I remember thinking I was going to beat the system. And I don't care about the stupid HD. So what it looks a little bit better. Now I can save a lot of money on the standard definition ones. You can pay nothing for them. And thinking it was the smartest thing in the world. And it's amazing. It comes to the point that you have on your cable system 1,000 channels, 18 of them are in HD, and those are the only channels I would watch.

PAT: Only ones I watch.

STU: And when that transition happened -- now probably the same thing with 4K. I haven't even seen it yet. I haven't even seen the quality.

GLENN: I've seen it displayed. I haven't received an invite yet from Pat Gray.

PAT: You have an open invitation to come over any time.

GLENN: Yeah.

But it's dramatic. It's dramatic.

STU: Really? Because it just doesn't like --

GLENN: Yeah. But I'm not going to buy one until it's like $800. I've done that train before.

STU: Yes.

GLENN: I'm not being fooled again.

PAT: And the thing is, not that much is broadcast right now in 4K. So...

STU: Except the Golden Globes. You'll get the Oscars. You'll get the Super Bowl. A lot of the big events.

PAT: And some stuff on Netflix. Their new stuff is generally 4K.

STU: Really? Through the freaking internet?

PAT: I think The Crown is in 4K.

GLENN: Is it?

PAT: Yeah. And some of the other shows.

GLENN: So you might watch The Crown?

PAT: So I'm thinking about watching The Crown now.

GLENN: It's really good.

PAT: It won the Golden Globe last night. Right? It's highly acclaimed. I know that.

GLENN: So is there anything last night that we should know about?

STU: The big news is the Meryl Streep thing, I guess. The political --

PAT: Oh, jeez. This speech was agonizing. I mean, listen to this.

MERYL: So Hollywood is crawling with outsiders and foreigners. And if we kick them all out --

PAT: May I first say: There is no A in the word "foreigners." So can we just start there? Foreigners. It's not "foar." It's "for." Foreigners.

GLENN: Okay. All right.

MERYL: You'll have nothing to watch, but football and Mixed Martial Arts, which are not the arts.

GLENN: Whoa, whoa, whoa.

JEFFY: And a lot of people seriously disagreed with that.

PAT: Yeah.

GLENN: Whoa. I didn't know that. I had already called the Trump administration. I'm trying to be part of the National Endowment for the Arts. I was hoping we could give all of the money to the MMA. I thought that was it.

STU: And, by the way, I don't know if Meryl has seen this, but if she's seen the TV ratings, they already are only watching football.

JEFFY: Thank you.

STU: I don't know if you've noticed this, but like the top five of the top six shows every single week are the NFL.

PAT: No kidding. No kidding.

GLENN: And honestly, do you care that some of the best shows on television now are made in England or made in Vancouver, BC?

STU: No.

PAT: No.

GLENN: Do you care?

PAT: No.

STU: I don't care. And also I've noticed a few -- and, Pat, maybe you can back me up on this, a few people of color and foreigners in sports. Noticed a few of them.

PAT: Yes.

STU: Noticed a few of them.

JEFFY: What?

STU: It's weird. I've noticed in the NFL, it's not all white people. Not all white people. In fact -- and we still seem to love watching it. It's almost as if her point is completely inane. Completely --

GLENN: Almost. I've missed you, Stu. I've missed you.

STU: Okay. I missed you too.

PAT: And also, Trump didn't even say that. Trump's not talking about kicking out all foreigners.

STU: Trump is Hollywood. All he talks about is ratings.

JEFFY: Right.

PAT: Yeah.

STU: There's never been -- outside of Reagan probably, a president that was more closely aligned with Hollywood than Donald Trump.

JEFFY: Yeah.

GLENN: Next to Reagan.

STU: Right.

PAT: That's so agonizing.

GLENN: You brought it on yourself, brother.

PAT: I know. Well, that was the last straw for me. I turned the channel immediately. I couldn't take it.

I mean, she made me in love with Donald Trump. I wanted to go back in time and vote for him, not just once, but multiple times, just because I'm so sick of these people.

STU: And I will say --

PAT: It's agonizing.

STU: I 100 percent agree with Donald Trump on what he took today, which is a much more difficult stand than saying Meryl Streep's an idiot when she makes a political speech. That's an easy stance to take.

JEFFY: Which she is.

STU: The tough one and the true one is that Meryl Streep sucks as an actress.

JEFFY: Amen.

STU: Not as a speaker. Not as a political theorist. As an actress, she's terrible --

PAT: Never been more with you than I am right now.

STU: Thank you, Pat.

JEFFY: And she's so overrated.

STU: She stinks. She's overrated. Trump tweeted it today. I've been saying it on this show for how many freaking years.

GLENN: He did not say she's overrated.

PAT: Did he say she's overrated?

STU: She's the most overrated actress.

GLENN: Oh, my gosh. He says that about everybody.

STU: But he's right on this one. Give him credit when he's right. He's 100 percent right. She stinks. And history will hopefully correctly recognize that she's terrible. Terrible.

PAT: I mean, they made her out to be the queen last night.

STU: Of course, they always do. They just give her the awards before she even does the movies. But she's terrible. And it's finally -- we have a president that can recognize that. Because I don't even know, would Reagan have done it? I don't know if he'd have the guts.

GLENN: No. No.

STU: Luckily, Trump is out there with the guts to say Meryl Streep sucks, and --

JEFFY: Meryl Streep, one of the most overrated actresses in Hollywood. Doesn't know me, but attacked last night at the Golden Globes. She's a Hillary flunky who lost big.

(laughter)

PAT: I love that. You got to love --

GLENN: Why? Why?

STU: Hillary lost big. Because Meryl won the award. Right? Meryl didn't lose big in the particular award. But who cares. I'm 100 percent with him on this point, and I'm happy to celebrate it.

GLENN: They don't even -- they don't even -- they don't even recognize the rot in their own state. They don't even recognize --

PAT: Oh, no.

GLENN: Why are you not paying, you know, the people in California to do your food catering, to pick you up? Why do you have to fly to someplace else? Your house is in California. Why do you have to fly someplace else to do it?

Why is Duck Dynasty done in Louisiana? Do you even know how they found Duck Dynasty? You know how that came to be?

JEFFY: Yeah, from the tax incentives from the state.

GLENN: Tax incentives.

JEFFY: Which I believe they pulled out of.

GLENN: Louisiana said, "We're going to make this the most -- the easiest place to do movies and television. You film anything here, we're going to give you a huge tax break." Okay.

So they do.

The producers don't say, "Hey, there's these guys in Louisiana that are great."

JEFFY: Yeah.

GLENN: The producers say, "Go to Louisiana and find a story that might be a show."

STU: Yeah, and this has happened throughout history. Rocky was -- if I remember the story right -- was initially a New York story. You know, it's so associated with Philadelphia.

GLENN: Right.

STU: But it was kind of a New York story. It was supposed to be filmed large portions of it in New York. But because of unions, they went to Philadelphia.

GLENN: The unions were better in Philadelphia than --

STU: They found a more willing environment. And they had to -- a lot of it, they still had to -- like, one of the reasons they developed the Steadicam and used the Steadicam a lot for that was because -- by their telling at least because they basically had to run around and hide from people where they weren't supposed to be shooting the movie, which is kind of a funny thing.

GLENN: Really?

PAT: That's great.

STU: But these things do lead to innovations. And you see this. This is Hollywood at its most out of touch. And everyone was tweeting and Facebooking about how this is why Trump won because they see people like Meryl Streep with these attitudes and treating everyone out there, half the country, in this way.

And it's so annoying. Even when they don't like Donald Trump, they'll vote for him. Because they're just so sick of that.

GLENN: It's so elitist. It is this understanding that everyone in this room is right. Even though everyone in that room are not in lockstep. But they've silenced those people. So everyone in this room is right. And we're now being broadcast across the country, so now we're going to tell the little people --

JEFFY: Yeah.

GLENN: I mean, it is Norma Desmond: All you little people out there in the dark.

They just -- they believe we're stupid. And so there's no way we're ever going to listen to one of your points, while you're telling us we're stupid.

STU: I've got great examples of this too.

GLENN: Okay.

JEFFY: Well, we don't think you're stupid. Just watch football and MMA.

GLENN: And that's not the arts.

I mean, I think that was written as a funny line. But she delivered it, maybe because he's a bad actress --

STU: Yes!

GLENN: But she delivered it as a slam in everybody's face, like we don't know that's not art.

And now, this: Told you last week, threw my back out. And one of the reasons why is because I was away from my Casper mattress

PAT: Plus, you moved in your chair. You were in a chair, and you moved.

JEFFY: You moved. You've made another chair to sit in.

PAT: We tried to tell you -- we warned you, I don't know, how many times, don't move because you've got to be careful. Don't move. And you moved.

GLENN: I know this makes you guys feel good some way. I'm just not sure how it makes you feel good.

Trump v. Slaughter: The Deep State on trial

JIM WATSON / Contributor | Getty Images

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'?

Vaughn Ridley / Stringer | Getty Images

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.

Joe Raedle / Staff | Getty Images

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.

NOVA SAFO / Staff | Getty Images

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

Mario Tama / Staff | Getty Images

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.