Glenn regularly takes his daughters on daddy daughter dates, and this week he had the opportunity to see Madame Butterfly at the Winspear Opera House in Dallas.
Friday, Glenn treated his audience to a not-to-be missed retelling of the classic story.
Listen to this segment, beginning near mark 8:00, from 'The Glenn Beck Program':
PAT: Are you going to another opera in the meantime over the weekend? You going to hit the opera scene?
GLENN: Just because I do a father-daughter date and I do the things that my daughter wants to do, I don't know why you have to mock me for that.
PAT: It's pathetic.
STU: We seen you -- you're woke Glenn Beck, right? So this is you opening up to new cultures.
GLENN: No, I've gone to operas since my daughter started getting into this.
STU: Oh yeah, the whole thing is bullcrap.
GLENN: Okay, so let me tell you, this is the third installment, the third time I've gone to the opera with my daughter.
PAT: The last time I heard about this, I think it's The Nose in New York.
GLENN: Lincoln -- Kennedy Center?
PAT: And all they did was sing about a nose the whole time.
GLENN: No, a nose with feet that came out of the nostrils. It was really great. I am convinced that that is somebody who was high with his friend and went, you want to screw with the people that all think, oh, oh, I understand what this is all about? We're going to write the dumbest, craziest, and we're just going to say this is what it's about, and you watch. They'll all jump on.
Because I watched that thing and we want, come on, people! And the people were like, oh, isn't this brilliant? It's a nose with nostrils coming out so it can stand up and walk around and singing about communism. No, it's not wonderful.
STU: And it was feet coming out of the nostrils.
GLENN: Yeah. That's how it walked. So anyway. That was the last one. Before that I saw the Wagner Ring Cycle. I don't know which one. But it's the famous one, I guess, with the tree and the sword. That's all I remember from it. It's like, where is my sword! Five hours of where is my sword. It's right there! See the tree? (Laughter.) It's the only other thing on stage that isn't the tree! Laugh. Oh, my gosh.
JEFFY: That was at the met.
PAT: He was apparently very, very near sighted.
GLENN: Oh, my gosh. Where is my sword? Shut up. I almost ran up onstage. Here. Here it is! (Laughter.) So Madame Butterfly comes to town here in Dallas. And my daughter --
PAT: Is this a traveling Broadway thing? Don't know?
GLENN: I don't know. Let me preface it with you're not going to want to go after I describe what I've seen. But if opera was like this, I would go more often. It was really amazing. It was really amazing. The people that were singing were just -- this woman, I guess, is the person that you want to see as Madame Butterfly. I didn't even know what the story was about. I read it in Wikipedia on the way.
(Laughter.)
And it was really amazing. But may I just say this: If your story is about a 15-year-old beautiful, delicate, flower, a girl who is virginal, young, soft, beautiful, delicate, little, frail, youth, glowing, and so she comes out in the first act. The first guy comes out, he's supposed to be an American, and he's a big, hairy, Italian opera singer, singing in Italian, and he's the American, and he comes out and he talks about, (singing) oh, my beautiful flower, she's coming, she's coming, I can't wait to see her I'm going to marry her, she's not going to, it's a fake, no, don't marry her, like, that she's a beautiful flower, so delicate, don't crush her petals, no, no, no I'm going to marry her because I love here even though I'm going back to America-- (singing deep tones).
So I'm waiting for this beautiful, delicate flower, and it's a 40-year-old opera singer.
(Laughter.)
And she comes onstage and she's like, (singing) I'm a little flower. And I'm like, no, honey, you're not! No!
PAT: Isn't she somewhat rotund as well? Corpulent?
GLENN: I would describe her as an opera singer. Stick some horns on her and you've got the standard opera singer. So she's bigger than the American guy. Okay. And she's like, (singing) oh, I'm so young and small and fragile. No, honey, no you're not. So then she's -- she's singing to the guy who's going to marry her, and then her uncle comes, and she's got these Japanese family, these relatives, who are strangely all white people, and they all come on, and they're all singing, (singing) we're the family at the wedding. We just love the wedding. And then the uncle comes, and the music changes, and it's dark.
STU: Are they really explaining this, by the way?
GLENN: No, it's almost -- it's almost that. Yes.
STU: Okay. Sorry.
GLENN: So you don't have a problem -- it's not deep. What I've found is the lyrics are not deep.
STU: They're just saying the thing that's happening.
GLENN: Sometimes. A lot of times. Most of the time. It's not real subtle, you know. And now it may be the translation, because you're watching the translation up above the stage.
STU: You're not even watching the show.
GLENN: Yeah, you're watching, and okay, that's what she's saying. Well, you didn't translate that. What the hell is that? What did she just said?
PAT: Do they normally have the English translation?
GLENN: Some do and some don't. Opera is really weird. There's no microphones.
PAT: I thought you just had to know it or not.
GLENN: No. Some don't.
PAT: Huh.
GLENN: And they get really snotty, and they're like, if you don't know it --
PAT: But we in Dallas. We want to know.
GLENN: New York was like that.
PAT: They would to know the words.
GLENN: New York was like that too. I went to the symphony in -- with my other daughter on our father-daughter date Saturday. I almost broke my neck getting up so fast. I couldn't believe it. I come from radio, it's the pops and the orchestra and the guy comes out and shaking the hands of everybody, and standing up and he just walks up, and all of a sudden as he walks up to the platform, everybody jumps to their feet, and he points, and there's a snare drum roll. And I'm like, what the hell, and they start playing the national anthem. I couldn't get up fast enough. Everybody was standing up. I thought, wow, welcome to Texas.
JEFFY: No kidding.
GLENN: They do not do that in New York. National anthem? What? Anyway, so then --
PAT: Xenophobic.
GLENN: Then the uncle comes on, and the uncle is mad because she gave up her religion to marry him and become a Christian, and so he's mad. And all I can think of is, he's also in an enormous black man.
(Laughter.)
JEFFY: The uncle.
GLENN: The uncle. You have the beautiful flower who is not Japanese, she's Chinese; not 15, she's 40. She's thought delicate. She's sturdy.
STU: Casting maybe.
GLENN: I'm thinking, casting is not a problem in -- in opera. I think you're supposed to --
STU: It's just voice quality?
GLENN: I guess. I don't know. It's the only place when you -- I mean, what, it's all -- that's all it is. It's about the music. I really want to know the history of opera. Did it just start out -- because the acting is horrendous in almost every opera I've ever seen.
STU: Because it's not about that. Right? It's about --
JEFFY: A musical, right? On Broadway. A Broadway play.
GLENN: Could it be, and I apologize to everyone who's a musicologist and knows anything about opera.
STU: The three people that are out there.
GLENN: I thought it may have started -- the guy wrote the music, and it's like, this is great, let's get together Saturday and invite friends and blah-blah-blah, and they did that for a couple of weeks and somebody said, you know, it would be cool if we dressed up like the people. And they're like, you got to make costumes. Okay. We'll dress up. Kind of like, you know, a Star Trek convention where people are dressing up. They're like, I'll dress up as the character, and eventually they're like, you know what? I should pick up a knife or a fake knife and pretend it's that. Okay. And then it just started -- somebody said, I could build a set, and we could -- you're pretending. Why don't I pretend? But nobody ever thought, let's actually do a real performance. It's really about the singing. The rest of it is just -- because we had extra time on our hands. I'm not sure.
STU: Surely that's in a history book somewhere about opera.
GLENN: Either that, or they just have the worst directors, actors, and everything else.
PAT: Not good casting people.
GLENN: No. But really good.
PAT: Yeah, because your initial thing was --
JEFFY: It was incredible.
GLENN: It really was.
PAT: Doesn't sound it. Does not sound it.
GLENN: Pat, I bet you would like it.
PAT: No way.
STU: You liked La-La Land.
GLENN: You did.
PAT: Only because I'm so varied in my tastes. I'm so deep. This is complex.
GLENN: This is the Dallas Opera Company, I guess. I don't know anything about it. But this is the Dallas people. I don't think this traveling -- maybe she is traveling. I don't know. But this is absolutely tremendous. It's really, really good.
PAT: I'm sure they'll thank you.
(Laughter.)
LENN: None of the guys are going to listen to these reviews.
STU: Safe to say.
PAT: Dallas opera, you're welcome.
GLENN: You're welcome. Actually -- [Laughs.] -- I know they're not listening so I'm not saying this because they care. It was really good. I went home, I woke up Tania, and she said, how was it, and I always explain about going to the opera and I said, this one, Honey, I want to go again. They may not let me in. I may have to wear a disguise, but I want to see it again. It was really, really good. Really good. And I'm clearly not the biggest of opera fans.
[break]
GLENN: We were just talking about the opera is a wild place to go. I mean, on a Wednesday night in Dallas, Texas.
JEFFY: If you want to party.
GLENN: A few people in tuxedos. Every guy was in a tie and jacket. It was really formal.
PAT: That's unusual. Because we do not do that for anything anymore. Even Broadway, nobody dresses up for.
GLENN: No. Especially in Dallas.
PAT: In Dallas it's more so.
GLENN: In Dallas, there's cowboy black tie, can which means you wear a shirt, a tuxedo.
PAT: And jeans.
GLENN: And jeans. We don't even do black tie here. And it was amazing. And the theater here, it's like the Winspear theater or something.
JEFFY: Yes.
GLENN: How many theaters have we been to?
PAT: Many.
GLENN: We've been to some of the most beautiful theaters in the country. This is by far the most beautiful theater I've ever seen, and paid for by private money.
PAT: Wow.
GLENN: It is beautiful. Beautiful. Unbelievable theater. Must have cost those rich people a fortune.
PAT: If only Foreigner would play there, I'd get to see it someday.
GLENN: They'll take anybody. I asked, do you rent this place out? And she's like, yeah -- only in Texas. Yeah, we've even done birthday parties here.
I'm like, who the hell has their birthday party here? I want to know that.
PAT: Wow.
GLENN: Wow!
JEFFY: Ross Perot.
GLENN: Yeah. Probably somebody like Ross Perot.
Our movement is at a crossroads, and the question before us is simple: What does it mean to be a conservative in America today?
For years, we have been told what we are against — against the left, against wokeism, against decline. But opposition alone does not define a movement, and it certainly does not define a moral vision.
The media, as usual, are eager to supply their own answer. The New York Times recently suggested that Nick Fuentes represents the “future” of conservatism. That’s nonsense — a distortion of both truth and tradition. Fuentes and those like him do not represent American conservatism. They represent its counterfeit.
Real conservatism is not rage. It is reverence. It does not treat the past as a museum, but as a teacher. America’s founders asked us to preserve their principles and improve upon their practice. That means understanding what we are conserving — a living covenant, not a relic.
In 2025, conservatism means stewardship — of a nation, a culture, and a moral inheritance too precious to abandon. To conserve is not to freeze history. It is to stand guard over what is essential. We are custodians of an experiment in liberty that rests on the belief that rights come not from kings or Congress, but from the Creator.
That belief built this country. It will be what saves it. The Constitution is a covenant between generations. Conservatism is the duty to keep that covenant alive — to preserve what works, correct what fails, and pass on both wisdom and freedom to those who come next.
Economics, culture, and morality are inseparable. Debt is not only fiscal; it is moral. Spending what belongs to the unborn is theft. Dependence is not compassion; it is weakness parading as virtue. A society that trades responsibility for comfort teaches citizens how to live as slaves.
Freedom without virtue is not freedom; it is chaos. A culture that mocks faith cannot defend liberty, and a nation that rejects truth cannot sustain justice. Conservatism must again become the moral compass of a disoriented people, reminding America that liberty survives only when anchored to virtue.
We cannot define ourselves by what we oppose. We must build families, communities, and institutions that endure. Government is broken because education is broken, and education is broken because we abandoned the formation of the mind and the soul. The work ahead is competence, not cynicism.
Conservatives should embrace innovation and technology while rejecting the chaos of Silicon Valley. Progress must not come at the expense of principle. Technology must strengthen people, not replace them. Artificial intelligence should remain a servant, never a master. The true strength of a nation is not measured by data or bureaucracy, but by the quiet webs of family, faith, and service that hold communities together. When Washington falters — and it will — those neighborhoods must stand.
Eric Lee / Stringer | Getty Images
This is the real work of conservatism: to conserve what is good and true and to reform what has decayed. It is not about slogans; it is about stewardship — the patient labor of building a civilization that remembers what it stands for.
We are not here to cling to the past or wallow in grievance. We are not the movement of rage. We are the movement of reason and hope.
For the rising generation, conservatism cannot be nostalgia. It must be more than a memory of 9/11 or admiration for a Reagan era they never lived through. Many young Americans did not experience those moments — and they should not have to in order to grasp the lessons they taught and the truths they embodied. The next chapter is not about preserving relics but renewing purpose. It must speak to conviction, not cynicism; to moral clarity, not despair.
Young people are searching for meaning in a culture that mocks truth and empties life of purpose. Conservatism should be the moral compass that reminds them freedom is responsibility and that faith, family, and moral courage remain the surest rebellions against hopelessness.
To be a conservative in 2025 is to defend the enduring principles of American liberty while stewarding the culture, the economy, and the spirit of a free people. It is to stand for truth when truth is unfashionable and to guard moral order when the world celebrates chaos.
We are not merely holding the torch. We are relighting it.
This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.
Evil introduces itself subtly. It doesn’t announce, “Hi, I’m here to destroy you.” It whispers. It flatters. It borrows the language of justice, empathy, and freedom, twisting them until hatred sounds righteous and violence sounds brave.
We are watching that same deception unfold again — in the streets, on college campuses, and in the rhetoric of people who should know better. It’s the oldest story in the world, retold with new slogans.
A drone video surfaced this week showing Hamas terrorists staging the “discovery” of a hostage’s body. They pushed a corpse out of a window, dragged it into a hole, buried it, and then called in aid workers to “find” what they themselves had planted. It was theater — evil, disguised as victimhood. And it was caught entirely on camera.
That’s how evil operates. It never comes in through the front door. It sneaks in, often through manipulative pity. The same spirit animates the moral rot spreading through our institutions — from the halls of universities to the chambers of government.
Take Zohran Mamdani, a New York assemblyman who has praised jihadists and defended pro-Hamas agitators. His father, a Columbia University professor, wrote that America and al-Qaeda are morally equivalent — that suicide bombings shouldn’t be viewed as barbaric. Imagine thinking that way after watching 3,000 Americans die on 9/11. That’s not intellectualism. That’s indoctrination.
Often, that indoctrination comes from hostile foreign actors, peddled by complicit pawns on our own soil. The pro-Hamas protests that erupted across campuses last year, for example, were funded by Iran — a regime that murders its own citizens for speaking freely.
But the deeper danger isn’t foreign money. It’s the spiritual blindness that lets good people believe resentment is justice and envy is discernment. Scripture talks about the spirit of Amalek — the eternal enemy of God’s people, who attacks the weak from behind while the strong look away. Amalek never dies; it just changes its vocabulary and form with the times.
Today, Amalek tweets. He speaks through professors who defend terrorism as “anti-colonial resistance.” He preaches from pulpits that call violence “solidarity.” And he recruits through algorithms, whispering that the Jews control everything, that America had it coming, that chaos is freedom. Those are ancient lies wearing new clothes.
When nations embrace those lies, it’s not the Jews who perish first. It’s the nations themselves. The soul dies long before the body. The ovens of Auschwitz didn’t start with smoke; they started with silence and slogans.
Andrew Harnik / Staff | Getty Images
So what do we do? We speak truth — calmly, firmly, without venom. Because hatred can’t kill hatred; it only feeds it. Truth, compassion, and courage starve it to death.
Evil wins when good people mirror its rage. That’s how Amalek survives — by making you fight him with his own weapons. The only victory that lasts is moral clarity without malice, courage without cruelty.
The war we’re fighting isn’t new. It’s the same battle between remembrance and amnesia, covenant and chaos, humility and pride. The same spirit that whispered to Pharaoh, to Hitler, and to every mob that thought hatred could heal the world is whispering again now — on your screens, in your classrooms, in your churches.
Will you join it, or will you stand against it?
This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.
For decades, Americans have been told that climate change is an imminent apocalypse — the existential threat that justifies every intrusion into our lives, from banning gas stoves to rationing energy to tracking personal “carbon scores.”
Microsoft co-founder Bill Gates helped lead that charge. He warned repeatedly that the “climate disaster” would be the greatest crisis humanity would ever face. He invested billions in green technology and demanded the world reach net-zero emissions by 2050 “to avoid catastrophe.”
Now, suddenly, he wants everyone to relax: Climate change “will not lead to humanity’s demise” after all.
Gates was making less of a scientific statement and more of a strategic pivot. When elites retire a crisis, it’s never because the threat is gone — it’s because a better one has replaced it. And something else has indeed arrived — something the ruling class finds more useful than fear of the weather.The same day Gates downshifted the doomsday rhetoric, Amazon announced it would pay warehouse workers $30 an hour — while laying off 30,000 people because artificial intelligence will soon do their jobs.
Climate panic was the warm-up. AI control is the main event.
The world once revolved around oil and gas. Today, it revolves around the electricity demanded by server farms, the chips that power machine learning, and the data that can be used to manipulate or silence entire populations. The global contest is no longer over barrels and pipelines — it is over who gets to flip the digital switch. Whoever controls energy now controls information. And whoever controls information controls civilization.
Climate alarmism gave elites a pretext to centralize power over energy. Artificial intelligence gives them a mechanism to centralize power over people. The future battles will not be about carbon — they will be about control.
Americans are already being pushed into what look like two opposing movements, but both leave the individual powerless.
The first is the technocratic empire being constructed in the name of innovation. In its vision, human work will be replaced by machines, and digital permissions will subsume personal autonomy.
Government and corporations merge into a single authority. Your identity, finances, medical decisions, and speech rights become access points monitored by biometric scanners and enforced by automated gatekeepers. Every step, purchase, and opinion is tracked under the noble banner of “efficiency.”
The second is the green de-growth utopia being marketed as “compassion.” In this vision, prosperity itself becomes immoral. You will own less because “the planet” requires it. Elites will redesign cities so life cannot extend beyond a 15-minute walking radius, restrict movement to save the Earth, and ration resources to curb “excess.” It promises community and simplicity, but ultimately delivers enforced scarcity. Freedom withers when surviving becomes a collective permission rather than an individual right.
Both futures demand that citizens become manageable — either automated out of society or tightly regulated within it. The ruling class will embrace whichever version gives them the most leverage in any given moment.
Climate panic was losing its grip. AI dependency — and the obedience it creates — is far more potent.
A third path exists, but it is the one today’s elites fear most: the path laid out in our Constitution. The founders built a system that assumes human beings are not subjects to be monitored or managed, but moral agents equipped by God with rights no government — and no algorithm — can override.
Hesham Elsherif / Stringer | Getty Images
That idea remains the most “disruptive technology” in history. It shattered the belief that people need kings or experts or global committees telling them how to live. No wonder elites want it erased.
Soon, you will be told you must choose: Live in a world run by machines or in a world stripped down for planetary salvation. Digital tyranny or rationed equality. Innovation without liberty or simplicity without dignity.
Both are traps.
The only future worth choosing is the one grounded in ordered liberty — where prosperity and progress exist alongside moral responsibility and personal freedom and human beings are treated as image-bearers of God — not climate liabilities, not data profiles, not replaceable hardware components.
Bill Gates can change his tune. The media can change the script. But the agenda remains the same.
They no longer want to save the planet. They want to run it, and they expect you to obey.
This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.
