This Comedian Nails the Insanity of 2017 in New Special

In a new Netflix special, comedian Marc Maron made some canny points about the absurdity of life in 2017. We’re almost at the point where we’ll believe that any crazy thing happened because we’ve seen so much insanity.

The Grand Canyon as a landfill? OK. Zoos as legal hunting grounds? Sure, that makes sense. “Some things you never thought you’d say like ‘Wow, these Nazis are annoying,’” Maron joked darkly in his “Too Real” special. Glenn and Stu looked at his insights on radio Wednesday and essentially agreed that it’s hard to question anything because we’ve seen so many crazy-but-true stories by now.

“They’ve just added a 93rd gender,” Glenn quipped. “OK, I can see that.”

“We’re at that point now where we just accept it,” Stu added.

This article provided courtesy of TheBlaze.

GLENN: So today I come in, and I turn on the television monitor array that is sitting in front of me with the -- with the time and the four television monitors, et cetera, et cetera. And I have to tell you, I took a picture because I -- in 40 years of broadcast, I've never seen anything like this. In one monitor was what was happening in Texas, a major US humanitarian and economic disaster, with Irma on the way. That was the topic I think on Fox. Then underneath that was CNN, which was the pretty credible threat of nuclear war with -- with North Korea. And then the bottom one was about DACA and the seeds of political and civil unrest.

And I thought to myself, "No, I've never seen anything like that before."

STU: All that and they've taken Coke Zero off the market too.

GLENN: We're reading the Book of Revelation. You know, you kind of get to -- you get to get to the point to where you're like, "Huh. This is going to be interesting. It's going to be interesting to see how this all works out, isn't it?"

It's kind of like -- I saw Marc Maron, a special that he did, I think it was on Netflix. And the guy is super, super, super, I believe, liberal, but there is something that is bringing us together. And it is that whole idea of, "Huh, this is going to be interesting." He was talking about how, you're not surprised by anything anymore.

VOICE: I don't know what he's going to do next.

(laughter)

And the people that voted for him, they don't know what he's going to do next.

(laughter)

And it's just crazy. You know, the people he's appointing is crazy. It's gotten to the point to where I could say things to you that would never make sense previously, but now you'd be like, all right.

Like, I could walk up to you and be like, hey, man, did you hear, they're making the Grand Canyon a landfill?

What?

Yeah. Yeah. They're doing that.

Yeah, I guess that makes sense, I guess.

(laughter)

But what's their logic?

Well, you know, how many times do you got to see that thing? They're just going to do half of it, and the other half you can still see. But I bet people go see the garbage too because that's a lot of garbage. It's going to be a double thing now. I can see why they would do that.

(laughter)

It's okay to hunt at zoos now.

(laughter)

What?

Yeah, the new EPA guy. I don't know. I guess it's okay. Like, eh.

I guess that's at that makes sense with their logic, I guess. It's going to be a whole different thing for the kids now, I guess. You know, a lot of those animals are almost extinct anyway. Might as well just get it over with, you know. Extinction is sort of a proactive term with these guys.

Some things you never thought you'd say like, wow, these Nazis are annoying.

(laughter)

STU: They've been annoying for a long time, to be fair.

GLENN: Yeah.

STU: It's funny because he obviously applies the sort of liberal anti-Trump thing there. But, I mean, it really is I think for everybody the exact same way.

GLENN: It is exactly the same. We've been there longer than they have. They think they're tired of it. We just went through eight years of feeling that way. You are the replacement troops. We're the ones that have been on the beach for a while going, "Yeah. Okay. I guess I can see that now." How many --

STU: So crazy.

GLENN: They've just added a 93rd gender. Yeah, I can see that.

STU: Yeah, it's true. We're at that point now where we just accept it. We've been hit with so many things we never thought we would see in our entire lives.

GLENN: And you're just like, "Yeah, I got it. Sure. Just throw it in the bag."

STU: See, we are becoming more tolerant. Look at that.

GLENN: We are. We are. It's not that we're tolerant. We've just given up.

STU: Well, that's kind of the same thing as tolerance, isn't it?

GLENN: I don't know.

STU: Tolerance is just the idea -- all right. Whatever.

That's why I never understood why it was something you'd argue for. Like, hey, the high-minded goal we have is everyone just kind of shrugs their shoulders as we walk by. That's kind of the standard.

GLENN: It really is. Kind of like, hmm. Okay.

STU: All right.

GLENN: Yeah, okay. We'll see how that works out. Sure. That sounds -- sounds great.

STU: It's not all horrific news, however. I mean, there are actual good, sane, sensible people doing --

GLENN: They're hard to find.

STU: -- doing sane, sensible things.

Well, that's why they're news stories when you find them.

GLENN: That's right. That's exactly right. That's why they're in the news now.

STU: Right. Nobody says, hey, a man went to go get coffee at McDonald's today. That's common. When people do things that are good, they become news stories.

GLENN: Right.

STU: But JJ Watt is the latest greatest example, I think. JJ Watt, if you don't know, and I know you don't know, Glenn.

GLENN: I do. I know this, he plays for Houston, and they're not the Oilers anymore.

STU: That's -- they are not the Oilers anymore. Oil is hateful. So you can't be the Oilers anymore. This is, of course, a new franchise, the Houston Texans, which, I guess it's still okay to be a Texan. See how long that lasts.

GLENN: No. You can hear, "They're banning all Texans." Yeah, I could see that.

STU: Yeah.

So Watt, is arguably the best player in the NFL, I mean, depending on how you define that. He's a great player. And he -- his city gets hit by this hurricane. They're suffering through it. He decides he's going to do something. He texts his PR person. I'm going to start this campaign. Hopefully, others will join in on it. This is going to be the page.

Links to a YouCaring page. YouCaring.com. Then he is going to donate $100,000 to hurricane relief. And he's going back and forth with the PR person, like I don't know whether it should be -- I should add my $100,000 first to kind of get it going or wait until it gets to $100,000 and then double it to get to my goal of 200,000. He wanted to raise $200,000, which is not nothing. Even for an NFL --

GLENN: Last time I saw this, I think it was at 5 million.

STU: It's gone up a little bit more.

GLENN: What's it at now?

STU: Yesterday, it hit $20 million. $20 million. Again, you could say it's JJ Watt, he's a big star, he's a celebrity. But he started this with the hopes of a normal person, linking to a campaign. He's going to throw in a big chunk of money, but he wasn't looking for this. And it's because people came together. They have reacted to it. I think Ellen put a million dollars of her own money into this campaign. Tons of big organizations have come in. It's still going to be mainly small donations.

GLENN: Yeah. I think this is a deal where it really shows, I don't trust people. We don't trust organizations anymore. You know, I see that guy on TV, and, you know, I like him. And I trust him. And, yeah, he's doing something. I'll go with him. I'm not sure -- how many people have you heard say, "Yeah, I want to give, but I just don't know who to give to," right now. You know, I think this is a testimony of that. And also, testimony on how generous this country still is.

EXPOSED: Why Eisenhower warned us about endless wars

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Donald Trump emphasizes peace through strength, reminding the world that the United States is willing to fight to win. That’s beyond ‘defense.’

President Donald Trump made headlines this week by signaling a rebrand of the Defense Department — restoring its original name, the Department of War.

At first, I was skeptical. “Defense” suggests restraint, a principle I consider vital to U.S. foreign policy. “War” suggests aggression. But for the first 158 years of the republic, that was the honest name: the Department of War.

A Department of War recognizes the truth: The military exists to fight and, if necessary, to win decisively.

The founders never intended a permanent standing army. When conflict came — the Revolution, the War of 1812, the trenches of France, the beaches of Normandy — the nation called men to arms, fought, and then sent them home. Each campaign was temporary, targeted, and necessary.

From ‘war’ to ‘military-industrial complex’

Everything changed in 1947. President Harry Truman — facing the new reality of nuclear weapons, global tension, and two world wars within 20 years — established a full-time military and rebranded the Department of War as the Department of Defense. Americans resisted; we had never wanted a permanent army. But Truman convinced the country it was necessary.

Was the name change an early form of political correctness? A way to soften America’s image as a global aggressor? Or was it simply practical? Regardless, the move created a permanent, professional military. But it also set the stage for something Truman’s successor, President Dwight “Ike” Eisenhower, famously warned about: the military-industrial complex.

Ike, the five-star general who commanded Allied forces in World War II and stormed Normandy, delivered a harrowing warning during his farewell address: The military-industrial complex would grow powerful. Left unchecked, it could influence policy and push the nation toward unnecessary wars.

And that’s exactly what happened. The Department of Defense, with its full-time and permanent army, began spending like there was no tomorrow. Weapons were developed, deployed, and sometimes used simply to justify their existence.

Peace through strength

When Donald Trump said this week, “I don’t want to be defense only. We want defense, but we want offense too,” some people freaked out. They called him a warmonger. He isn’t. Trump is channeling a principle older than him: peace through strength. Ronald Reagan preached it; Trump is taking it a step further.

Just this week, Trump also suggested limiting nuclear missiles — hardly the considerations of a warmonger — echoing Reagan, who wanted to remove missiles from silos while keeping them deployable on planes.

The seemingly contradictory move of Trump calling for a Department of War sends a clear message: He wants Americans to recognize that our military exists not just for defense, but to project power when necessary.

Trump has pointed to something critically important: The best way to prevent war is to have a leader who knows exactly who he is and what he will do. Trump signals strength, deterrence, and resolve. You want to negotiate? Great. You don’t? Then we’ll finish the fight decisively.

That’s why the world listens to us. That’s why nations come to the table — not because Trump is reckless, but because he means what he says and says what he means. Peace under weakness invites aggression. Peace under strength commands respect.

Trump is the most anti-war president we’ve had since Jimmy Carter. But unlike Carter, Trump isn’t weak. Carter’s indecision emboldened enemies and made the world less safe. Trump’s strength makes the country stronger. He believes in peace as much as any president. But he knows peace requires readiness for war.

Names matter

When we think of “defense,” we imagine cybersecurity, spy programs, and missile shields. But when we think of “war,” we recall its harsh reality: death, destruction, and national survival. Trump is reminding us what the Department of Defense is really for: war. Not nation-building, not diplomacy disguised as military action, not endless training missions. War — full stop.

Chip Somodevilla / Staff | Getty Images

Names matter. Words matter. They shape identity and character. A Department of Defense implies passivity, a posture of reaction. A Department of War recognizes the truth: The military exists to fight and, if necessary, to win decisively.

So yes, I’ve changed my mind. I’m for the rebranding to the Department of War. It shows strength to the world. It reminds Americans, internally and externally, of the reality we face. The Department of Defense can no longer be a euphemism. Our military exists for war — not without deterrence, but not without strength either. And we need to stop deluding ourselves.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Unveiling the Deep State: From surveillance to censorship

Chip Somodevilla / Staff | Getty Images

From surveillance abuse to censorship, the deep state used state power and private institutions to suppress dissent and influence two US elections.

The term “deep state” has long been dismissed as the province of cranks and conspiracists. But the recent declassification of two critical documents — the Durham annex, released by Sen. Chuck Grassley (R-Iowa), and a report publicized by Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard — has rendered further denial untenable.

These documents lay bare the structure and function of a bureaucratic, semi-autonomous network of agencies, contractors, nonprofits, and media entities that together constitute a parallel government operating alongside — and at times in opposition to — the duly elected one.

The ‘deep state’ is a self-reinforcing institutional machine — a decentralized, global bureaucracy whose members share ideological alignment.

The disclosures do not merely recount past abuses; they offer a schematic of how modern influence operations are conceived, coordinated, and deployed across domestic and international domains.

What they reveal is not a rogue element operating in secret, but a systematized apparatus capable of shaping elections, suppressing dissent, and laundering narratives through a transnational network of intelligence, academia, media, and philanthropic institutions.

Narrative engineering from the top

According to Gabbard’s report, a pivotal moment occurred on December 9, 2016, when the Obama White House convened its national security leadership in the Situation Room. Attendees included CIA Director John Brennan, Director of National Intelligence James Clapper, National Security Agency Director Michael Rogers, FBI Deputy Director Andrew McCabe, Attorney General Loretta Lynch, Secretary of State John Kerry, and others.

During this meeting, the consensus view up to that point — that Russia had not manipulated the election outcome — was subordinated to new instructions.

The record states plainly: The intelligence community was directed to prepare an assessment “per the President’s request” that would frame Russia as the aggressor and then-presidential candidate Donald Trump as its preferred candidate. Notably absent was any claim that new intelligence had emerged. The motivation was political, not evidentiary.

This maneuver became the foundation for the now-discredited 2017 intelligence community assessment on Russian election interference. From that point on, U.S. intelligence agencies became not neutral evaluators of fact but active participants in constructing a public narrative designed to delegitimize the incoming administration.

Institutional and media coordination

The ODNI report and the Durham annex jointly describe a feedback loop in which intelligence is laundered through think tanks and nongovernmental organizations, then cited by media outlets as “independent verification.” At the center of this loop are agencies like the CIA, FBI, and ODNI; law firms such as Perkins Coie; and NGOs such as the Open Society Foundations.

According to the Durham annex, think tanks including the Atlantic Council, the Carnegie Endowment, and the Center for a New American Security were allegedly informed of Clinton’s 2016 plan to link Trump to Russia. These institutions, operating under the veneer of academic independence, helped diffuse the narrative into public discourse.

Media coordination was not incidental. On the very day of the aforementioned White House meeting, the Washington Post published a front-page article headlined “Obama Orders Review of Russian Hacking During Presidential Campaign” — a story that mirrored the internal shift in official narrative. The article marked the beginning of a coordinated media campaign that would amplify the Trump-Russia collusion narrative throughout the transition period.

Surveillance and suppression

Surveillance, once limited to foreign intelligence operations, was turned inward through the abuse of FISA warrants. The Steele dossier — funded by the Clinton campaign via Perkins Coie and Fusion GPS — served as the basis for wiretaps on Trump affiliates, despite being unverified and partially discredited. The FBI even altered emails to facilitate the warrants.

ROBYN BECK / Contributor | Getty Images

This capacity for internal subversion reappeared in 2020, when 51 former intelligence officials signed a letter labeling the Hunter Biden laptop story as “Russian disinformation.” According to polling, 79% of Americans believed truthful coverage of the laptop could have altered the election. The suppression of that story — now confirmed as authentic — was election interference, pure and simple.

A machine, not a ‘conspiracy theory’

The deep state is a self-reinforcing institutional machine — a decentralized, global bureaucracy whose members share ideological alignment and strategic goals.

Each node — law firms, think tanks, newsrooms, federal agencies — operates with plausible deniability. But taken together, they form a matrix of influence capable of undermining electoral legitimacy and redirecting national policy without democratic input.

The ODNI report and the Durham annex mark the first crack in the firewall shielding this machine. They expose more than a political scandal buried in the past. They lay bare a living system of elite coordination — one that demands exposure, confrontation, and ultimately dismantling.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Trump's proposal explained: Ukraine's path to peace without NATO expansion

ANDREW CABALLERO-REYNOLDS / Contributor | Getty Images

Strategic compromise, not absolute victory, often ensures lasting stability.

When has any country been asked to give up land it won in a war? Even if a nation is at fault, the punishment must be measured.

After World War I, Germany, the main aggressor, faced harsh penalties under the Treaty of Versailles. Germans resented the restrictions, and that resentment fueled the rise of Adolf Hitler, ultimately leading to World War II. History teaches that justice for transgressions must avoid creating conditions for future conflict.

Ukraine and Russia must choose to either continue the cycle of bloodshed or make difficult compromises in pursuit of survival and stability.

Russia and Ukraine now stand at a similar crossroads. They can cling to disputed land and prolong a devastating war, or they can make concessions that might secure a lasting peace. The stakes could not be higher: Tens of thousands die each month, and the choice between endless bloodshed and negotiated stability hinges on each side’s willingness to yield.

History offers a guide. In 1967, Israel faced annihilation. Surrounded by hostile armies, the nation fought back and seized large swaths of territory from Jordan, Egypt, and Syria. Yet Israel did not seek an empire. It held only the buffer zones needed for survival and returned most of the land. Security and peace, not conquest, drove its decisions.

Peace requires concessions

Secretary of State Marco Rubio says both Russia and Ukraine will need to “get something” from a peace deal. He’s right. Israel proved that survival outweighs pride. By giving up land in exchange for recognition and an end to hostilities, it stopped the cycle of war. Egypt and Israel have not fought in more than 50 years.

Russia and Ukraine now press opposing security demands. Moscow wants a buffer to block NATO. Kyiv, scarred by invasion, seeks NATO membership — a pledge that any attack would trigger collective defense by the United States and Europe.

President Donald Trump and his allies have floated a middle path: an Article 5-style guarantee without full NATO membership. Article 5, the core of NATO’s charter, declares that an attack on one is an attack on all. For Ukraine, such a pledge would act as a powerful deterrent. For Russia, it might be more palatable than NATO expansion to its border

Andrew Harnik / Staff | Getty Images

Peace requires concessions. The human cost is staggering: U.S. estimates indicate 20,000 Russian soldiers died in a single month — nearly half the total U.S. casualties in Vietnam — and the toll on Ukrainians is also severe. To stop this bloodshed, both sides need to recognize reality on the ground, make difficult choices, and anchor negotiations in security and peace rather than pride.

Peace or bloodshed?

Both Russia and Ukraine claim deep historical grievances. Ukraine arguably has a stronger claim of injustice. But the question is not whose parchment is older or whose deed is more valid. The question is whether either side is willing to trade some land for the lives of thousands of innocent people. True security, not historical vindication, must guide the path forward.

History shows that punitive measures or rigid insistence on territorial claims can perpetuate cycles of war. Germany’s punishment after World War I contributed directly to World War II. By contrast, Israel’s willingness to cede land for security and recognition created enduring peace. Ukraine and Russia now face the same choice: Continue the cycle of bloodshed or make difficult compromises in pursuit of survival and stability.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

The loneliness epidemic: Are machines replacing human connection?

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Seniors, children, and the isolated increasingly rely on machines for conversation, risking real relationships and the emotional depth that only humans provide.

Jill Smola is 75 years old. She’s a retiree from Orlando, Florida, and she spent her life caring for the elderly. She played games, assembled puzzles, and offered company to those who otherwise would have sat alone.

Now, she sits alone herself. Her husband has died. She has a lung condition. She can’t drive. She can’t leave her home. Weeks can pass without human interaction.

Loneliness is an epidemic. And AI will not fix it. It will only dull the edges and make a diminished life tolerable.

But CBS News reports that she has a new companion. And she likes this companion more than her own daughter.

The companion? Artificial intelligence.

She spends five hours a day talking to her AI friend. They play games, do trivia, and just talk. She says she even prefers it to real people.

My first thought was simple: Stop this. We are losing our humanity.

But as I sat with the story, I realized something uncomfortable. Maybe we’ve already lost some of our humanity — not to AI, but to ourselves.

Outsourcing presence

How often do we know the right thing to do yet fail to act? We know we should visit the lonely. We know we should sit with someone in pain. We know what Jesus would do: Notice the forgotten, touch the untouchable, offer time and attention without outsourcing compassion.

Yet how often do we just … talk about it? On the radio, online, in lectures, in posts. We pontificate, and then we retreat.

I asked myself: What am I actually doing to close the distance between knowing and doing?

Human connection is messy. It’s inconvenient. It takes patience, humility, and endurance. AI doesn’t challenge you. It doesn’t interrupt your day. It doesn’t ask anything of you. Real people do. Real people make us confront our pride, our discomfort, our loneliness.

We’ve built an economy of convenience. We can have groceries delivered, movies streamed, answers instantly. But friendships — real relationships — are slow, inefficient, unpredictable. They happen in the blank spaces of life that we’ve been trained to ignore.

And now we’re replacing that inefficiency with machines.

AI provides comfort without challenge. It eliminates the risk of real intimacy. It’s an elegant coping mechanism for loneliness, but a poor substitute for life. If we’re not careful, the lonely won’t just be alone — they’ll be alone with an anesthetic, a shadow that never asks for anything, never interrupts, never makes them grow.

Reclaiming our humanity

We need to reclaim our humanity. Presence matters. Not theory. Not outrage. Action.

It starts small. Pull up a chair for someone who eats alone. Call a neighbor you haven’t spoken to in months. Visit a nursing home once a month — then once a week. Ask their names, hear their stories. Teach your children how to be present, to sit with someone in grief, without rushing to fix it.

Turn phones off at dinner. Make Sunday afternoons human time. Listen. Ask questions. Don’t post about it afterward. Make the act itself sacred.

Humility is central. We prefer machines because we can control them. Real people are inconvenient. They interrupt our narratives. They demand patience, forgiveness, and endurance. They make us confront ourselves.

A friend will challenge your self-image. A chatbot won’t.

Our homes are quieter. Our streets are emptier. Loneliness is an epidemic. And AI will not fix it. It will only dull the edges and make a diminished life tolerable.

Before we worry about how AI will reshape humanity, we must first practice humanity. It can start with 15 minutes a day of undivided attention, presence, and listening.

Change usually comes when pain finally wins. Let’s not wait for that. Let’s start now. Because real connection restores faster than any machine ever will.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.