‘Christmas House’ in Phoenix Won’t Have Lights This Year… But There’s a Twist

Lee and Patricia Sepanek have been decorating their Phoenix home with a stunning display of Christmas lights for more than three decades. But not this year … after objections from new neighbors, city officials wanted the couple to make some big changes, so the Sepaneks are taking a break.

Lee Sepanek joined Glenn on today’s show to talk about the ridiculous hoops he says officials wanted him to jump through in order to maintain his holiday traditions of lavishly decorating his home and providing cocoa for visitors.

DONATE

This article provided courtesy of TheBlaze.

GLENN: I read a story a couple weeks ago about a guy who has put Christmas lights up on his home for 30 years. He's decorated his home in Arizona. And he spends like three months decorating and getting everything -- getting everything right.

Nobody has ever complained in his neighborhood. Somebody moved, and then a new family moved in. And they claimed to the city and said that, you know, the traffic is just horrible.

And so the city came in and said, "You have to stop this." Because he was violating code because he was selling hot chocolate to try to pay for, you know, the -- the work of putting the lights up, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. He said, "I'll give it away." They said, "You can't even do that." So he stopped decorating, for the first time in 30 years. His name is Lee steponic. (?) and Lee is with us now. Hello, Lee, how are you?

LEE: Good. How are you, Glenn?

GLENN: So tell me what the reaction has been in your neighborhood.

LEE: Oh, the neighborhood -- once they found out what was going on, just totally upset. I still have cars driving by, just to see the dark house.

(chuckling)

LEE: But, of course, we turned the tables on the city a little bit because we took all of my lights and we decorated ten homes on my street.

GLENN: Wow. Wow.

LEE: Wow and so other neighbors have joined in. (?) 15 houses that are now decorated. And there's only about three that are not.

GLENN: And are one of those three the one that complained? Do you know who complained?

LEE: Yes, I know.

GLENN: And did they talk to you about it? Because I have to be honest with you, Lee. I lived in Connecticut, and there was a house on my street. And there was only one way to get to my house. (?) I loved it. I loved it. And became friends with him and everything else. He would spend three, four months putting them up and taking them down. And he loved it. And people would come from all over. I, on the other hand, was the neighbor that was just trying to get home, hated the traffic, but I lived with it. Can you understand why someone would be like, "This is ridiculous on my street?"

LEE: Well, I understood that completely. And I've always said for years, you know, I've lived in this home on this street since 1973. So basically what had happened is I've outlived the neighbors. Because the people that were living here when I moved in have passed away or moved away. So the ones (?) not even a year ago. I looked up the tax records and they moved in February of 2016. So the first experience they (?) caused them to complain to the city. But I've since learned from their immediate neighbors that they're the type that complain about everything. They actually went so far to ask one of their neighbors to cut down a tree on their property because some of their leaves were blowing into their yard.

GLENN: Wow. Okay.

LEE: Okay. You know the kind we're talking about?

GLENN: Yeah, I do. I've had those kinds of neighbors. And, you know, what solves that is if you just mysteriously find bamboo planted somewhere no one else yard. Anyway, that's a different story.

LEE: I offered to -- it was a matter of blocked driveways. I offered (?) please do not block this driveway. I was going to put that at the leading edge of everyone's driveway up and down my street. And the city official from (?) because it's a right of way. And I was like, but there's no sidewalks.

So where am I impeding people's natural flow if there's no sidewalks in

GLENN: So what are you going to do now, lee? I'm just looking -- (?), I mean, what are you paying your power bill?

LEE: My power bill run me about 1500 a year.

GLENN: I mean, it's quite the show.

So what are you going to do? You said you're not going to do it this year, but you said you are going to do it next year.

LEE: The way (?) cocoa being offered for donation.

So they've backed off on that. Due to -- you know, pushback from the neighborhood, from legal. Basically, I got representation -- because I have a -- an individual host has been coming here for years, and his children are little. And when he found out it wasn't going to do this anymore. He got all up in arms and contacted a whole bunch of people that he knew that came to my -- to my support. And have been great about it. And our own district six councilman, as soon as he heard about this, he went to the city and started working on my behalf to get this overturned.

So as it looks right now, it looks pretty good. We'll probably do it again next year.

GLENN: So you're -- you also started a GoFundMe page. And you started that because you were -- you were taking the profits of the hot cocoa and, you know -- that allowed you to do this and put the lights and buy new stuff, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. And the city won't let you do that because you don't have a license. So now you're trying to raise the money through GoFundMe?

LEE: That's correct, yeah. So what I used to get -- and I didn't make that. I was selling a cup of cocoa for a dollar.

GLENN: Right.

LEE: So it probably cost me 50 cents with the lid, the cup, the powder (?) it's not like I made a lot -- the show never -- never made a profit. Okay?

But it helped take the sting out of the costs.

GLENN: The -- I'm seeing the video. There's a -- it looks like, almost like a -- I don't know, a fair or something.

LEE: Yeah, that's one of my decorated windows. I have six of them. That's the reason why people stop, get out of their car, and come to -- my windows rival Macy's.

GLENN: Did you build this? Because I'm looking at this and I can't -- it looks like a legitimate fair. So did you make all of that?

LEE: No. Over the -- I've been collecting stuff for over 40 years. And, you know, I think the window you have there, that's the combination with the train --

GLENN: Yeah.

LEE: That's actually my kitchen window. And everyone has done differently. I don't think I even sent you the one. I could send you the one -- the real fair.

GLENN: Like the tee cup. The tee cup thing. (?)

LEE: Right. Right.

GLENN: Was there.

STU: I can't even bring myself to go to the gym for 15 minutes. You're spending nine to ten hours a day for three months. So this begins in, what? August?

LEE: September. This (?) the third week of September. Takes about two weeks to go through the lights and fix them and get them ready to go. And then we start beginning -- in fact, I had the lights here. We had been working on it for two weeks when I met with the city. And I hadn't started to decorate yet. So then after meeting with them, I decided, they were just making it too -- they can't directly tell me I cannot put up my lights. But if you take and make it difficult all the way around in every other aspect, you discourage people from doing so. And that's what they tried to do.

GLENN: Yeah.

STU: Yep.

GLENN: So how old a man are you, Lee.

LEE: I'm 66 years old.

GLENN: And when you say (?)

LEE: I have a gentleman who volunteers his time and helps and then my wife. So the three of us.

GLENN: Has your wife ever said, okay. Lee, enough.

LEE: Oh, yeah, that -- every year.

GLENN: Okay. Yeah, right.

LEE: You have to understand, we go out every night from Thanksgiving to New Year's, greet people, serve up cookies or cocoa. Only nights we are not out there is if it's pouring down rain, and I'll turn the lights (?)

GLENN: I can't do you do it, Lee?

LEE: It's just something I've been doing since I was ten years old. (?) started doing it when I was a kid. Living with my parents. And moved to Phoenix in '73. Didn't do it for a number of years, until my youngest was born. And we would go around looking (?) he started saying, well, we don't have any on our house, why can't we do it on our house? So we started doing it. And started out small. And it's grown into what it is today.

STU: I'm fascinated about this. So September, October, November is setup. Then through November and (?) through January, you're doing -- you're out there working it every day with the lights. And then there's a teardown process. How long does the teardown take?

LEE: Usually a month. (?) a month and a half to take it down.

STU: I mean, that is legitimately half of your year.

LEE: Yes.

STU: That's an incredible amount of dedication. I mean, I like Christmas.

GLENN: See, I don't think I would ever take them down, Lee.

STU: Yeah. I think you would just leave them down.

GLENN: (?) I don't care.

LEE: Yeah. You know what, I kind of hate that. (?) you see eagle lights hanging off --

GLENN: I'm not saying it's a good look.

STU: You just tarp the whole house. (?) put a big tarp on top of it, you move somewhere else --

GLENN: Put camouflage negative over the house.

LEE: You know, that would be great. A lot of this stuff is made out of plastic. And our son ruins that. (?) it would be no good anyway.

GLENN: Yeah. All right. Lee, best of luck to you. Do you have the address for the -- Stu, do you happen to have the GoFundMe page?

STU: I do. (?) it says, help relight Christmas house is where you can go to find it. It's a great goal. It will put you back to work, lee. I hope you're prepared for that.

LEE: That's okay. You know, I look forward to it every year. People don't realize. This is a year-round thing for me. Because if I'm not putting it up or (?) I'm planning.

GLENN: God bless you. God bless your wife, lee.

LEE: Yes. I know, yeah.

GLENN: God bless you.

STU: Lee soponic is the guy who is doing the Christmas display in Phoenix. It's GoFundMe.com. (?) I had one string of lights that I had to hang on the back porch of our house. And I put it up in like October of I guess 2015. And it came down last summer. So it was up -- I kept it up through the whole year.

GLENN: Yeah, good.

STU: And it lasted until they just started (?) they physically didn't work anymore.

GLENN: Yeah, you're a class act all the way.

STU: That's me.

GLENN: So I went and I got a new tree. You know, we've done fake trees forever. We went out and cut our trees down this year. And brought it into the house. And so had to go get lights. Yesterday, Tania comes home from Hobby Lobby. And we bought the big Christmas bulbs, that my grandparents used to have the big Christmas bulbs.

STU: Oh, I love those.

GLENN: Yeah, so she came. And they were halogen. So he so on she came -- we put them up. We looked, that's not right.

STU: They haven't nailed the '50s to '80s Christmas lights?

GLENN: Well, they have. They've just remade them. (?) she said, but the other ones get so hot. And we were talking about it. And this is probably the wrong move. But I'm kind of willing to have the tree light on fire and just have -- just have some sort of a fire extinguisher around the tree, in case it does, for the beauty of the lights. For the memories.

How did we not all burn to death?

STU: I don't know. And, you know, people are like, oh, I got to have a natural tree. Forget it. I did it -- I did it for many, many years. And then I got an artificial tree. And, you know what, never have to worry about it.

Keep that thing year round.

GLENN: No, you didn't.

STU: Because I kept -- we kept taking the tree down. And then you put it in the box or whatever. And it gets all folded up. And then you have to come up and fluff all the branches when you put it back up. And I said we have that garage. Why don't we just put that thing up as is in the garage?

GLENN: Oh, I don't have a problem with that. In the garage?

STU: In the garage.

GLENN: I don't have a problem with this with that.

STU: I think it's smart.

GLENN: Did you see it all decorated. Everything.

I asked Tim the other day, who decorated the tree? He's like, oh, I don't know. It was decorated four years ago. We just wrap it up in bubble wrap and put it in the back. I'm like, why aren't I doing that at home.

STU: That's brilliant.

GLENN: That's exactly what should be done. You just need some sort of a place -- your tree needs to be on wheels. Your tree needs to be on wheels. And probably shouldn't be one that easily catches on fire.

The melting pot fails when we stop agreeing to melt

Spencer Platt / Staff | Getty Images

Texas now hosts Quran-first academies, Sharia-compliant housing schemes, and rapidly multiplying mosques — all part of a movement building a self-contained society apart from the country around it.

It is time to talk honestly about what is happening inside America’s rapidly growing Muslim communities. In city after city, large pockets of newcomers are choosing to build insulated enclaves rather than enter the broader American culture.

That trend is accelerating, and the longer we ignore it, the harder it becomes to address.

As Texas goes, so goes America. And as America goes, so goes the free world.

America has always welcomed people of every faith and people from every corner of the world, but the deal has never changed: You come here and you join the American family. You are free to honor your traditions, keep your faith, but you must embrace the Constitution as the supreme law of the land. You melt into the shared culture that allows all of us to live side by side.

Across the country, this bargain is being rejected by Islamist communities that insist on building a parallel society with its own rules, its own boundaries, and its own vision for how life should be lived.

Texas illustrates the trend. The state now has roughly 330 mosques. At least 48 of them were built in just the last 24 months. The Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex alone has around 200 Islamic centers. Houston has another hundred or so. Many of these communities have no interest in blending into American life.

This is not the same as past waves of immigration. Irish, Italian, Korean, Mexican, and every other group arrived with pride in their heritage. Still, they also raised American flags and wanted their children to be part of the country’s future. They became doctors, small-business owners, teachers, and soldiers. They wanted to be Americans.

What we are watching now is not the melting pot. It is isolation by design.

Parallel societies do not end well

More than 300 fundamentalist Islamic schools now operate full-time across the country. Many use Quran-first curricula that require students to spend hours memorizing religious texts before they ever reach math or science. In Dallas, Brighter Horizons Academy enrolls more than 1,700 students and draws federal support while operating on a social model that keeps children culturally isolated.

Then there is the Epic City project in Collin and Hunt counties — 402 acres originally designated only for Muslim buyers, with Sharia-compliant financing and a mega-mosque at the center. After public outcry and state investigations, the developers renamed it “The Meadows,” but a new sign does not erase the original intent. It is not a neighborhood. It is a parallel society.

Americans should not hesitate to say that parallel societies are dangerous. Europe tried this experiment, and the results could not be clearer. In Germany, France, and the United Kingdom, entire neighborhoods now operate under their own cultural rules, some openly hostile to Western norms. When citizens speak up, they are branded bigots for asserting a basic right: the ability to live safely in their own communities.

A crisis of confidence

While this separation widens, another crisis is unfolding at home. A recent Gallup survey shows that about 40% of American women ages 18 to 39 would leave the country permanently if given the chance. Nearly half of a rising generation — daughters, sisters, soon-to-be mothers — no longer believe this nation is worth building a future in.

And who shapes the worldview of young boys? Their mothers. If a mother no longer believes America is home, why would her child grow up ready to defend it?

As Texas goes, so goes America. And as America goes, so goes the free world. If we lose confidence in our own national identity at the same time that we allow separatist enclaves to spread unchecked, the outcome is predictable. Europe is already showing us what comes next: cultural fracture, political radicalization, and the slow death of national unity.

Brandon Bell / Staff | Getty Images

Stand up and tell the truth

America welcomes Muslims. America defends their right to worship freely. A Muslim who loves the Constitution, respects the rule of law, and wants to raise a family in peace is more than welcome in America.

But an Islamist movement that rejects assimilation, builds enclaves governed by its own religious framework, and treats American law as optional is not simply another participant in our melting pot. It is a direct challenge to it. If we refuse to call this problem out out of fear of being called names, we will bear the consequences.

Europe is already feeling those consequences — rising conflict and a political class too paralyzed to admit the obvious. When people feel their culture, safety, and freedoms slipping away, they will follow anyone who promises to defend them. History has shown that over and over again.

Stand up. Speak plainly. Be unafraid. You can practice any faith in this country, but the supremacy of the Constitution and the Judeo-Christian moral framework that shaped it is non-negotiable. It is what guarantees your freedom in the first place.

If you come here and honor that foundation, welcome. If you come here to undermine it, you do not belong here.

Wake up to what is unfolding before the consequences arrive. Because when a nation refuses to say what is true, the truth eventually forces its way in — and by then, it is always too late.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Shocking: Chart-topping ‘singer’ has no soul at all

VCG / Contributor | Getty Images

A machine can imitate heartbreak well enough to top the charts, but it cannot carry grief, choose courage, or hear the whisper that calls human beings to something higher.

The No. 1 country song in America right now was not written in Nashville or Texas or even L.A. It came from code. “Walk My Walk,” the AI-generated single by the AI artist Breaking Rust, hit the top spot on Billboard’s Country Digital Song Sales chart, and if you listen to it without knowing that fact, you would swear a real singer lived the pain he is describing.

Except there is no “he.” There is no lived experience. There is no soul behind the voice dominating the country music charts.

If a machine can imitate the soul, then what is the soul?

I will admit it: I enjoy some AI music. Some of it is very good. And that leaves us with a question that is no longer science fiction. If a machine can fake being human this well, what does it mean to be human?

A new world of artificial experience

This is not just about one song. We are walking straight into a technological moment that will reshape everyday life.

Elon Musk said recently that we may not even have phones in five years. Instead, we will carry a small device that listens, anticipates, and creates — a personal AI agent that knows what we want to hear before we ask. It will make the music, the news, the podcasts, the stories. We already live in digital bubbles. Soon, those bubbles might become our own private worlds.

If an algorithm can write a hit country song about hardship and perseverance without a shred of actual experience, then the deeper question becomes unavoidable: If a machine can imitate the soul, then what is the soul?

What machines can never do

A machine can produce, and soon it may produce better than we can. It can calculate faster than any human mind. It can rearrange the notes and words of a thousand human songs into something that sounds real enough to fool millions.

But it cannot care. It cannot love. It cannot choose right and wrong. It cannot forgive because it cannot be hurt. It cannot stand between a child and danger. It cannot walk through sorrow.

A machine can imitate the sound of suffering. It cannot suffer.

The difference is the soul. The divine spark. The thing God breathed into man that no code will ever have. Only humans can take pain and let it grow into compassion. Only humans can take fear and turn it into courage. Only humans can rebuild their lives after losing everything. Only humans hear the whisper inside, the divine voice that says, “Live for something greater.”

We are building artificial minds. We are not building artificial life.

Questions that define us

And as these artificial minds grow sharper, as their tools become more convincing, the right response is not panic. It is to ask the oldest and most important questions.

Who am I? Why am I here? What is the meaning of freedom? What is worth defending? What is worth sacrificing for?

That answer is not found in a lab or a server rack. It is found in that mysterious place inside each of us where reason meets faith, where suffering becomes wisdom, where God reminds us we are more than flesh and more than thought. We are not accidents. We are not circuits. We are not replaceable.

Europa Press News / Contributor | Getty Images

The miracle machines can never copy

Being human is not about what we can produce. Machines will outproduce us. That is not the question. Being human is about what we can choose. We can choose to love even when it costs us something. We can choose to sacrifice when it is not easy. We can choose to tell the truth when the world rewards lies. We can choose to stand when everyone else bows. We can create because something inside us will not rest until we do.

An AI content generator can borrow our melodies, echo our stories, and dress itself up like a human soul, but it cannot carry grief across a lifetime. It cannot forgive an enemy. It cannot experience wonder. It cannot look at a broken world and say, “I am going to build again.”

The age of machines is rising. And if we do not know who we are, we will shrink. But if we use this moment to remember what makes us human, it will help us to become better, because the one thing no algorithm will ever recreate is the miracle that we exist at all — the miracle of the human soul.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Is Socialism seducing a lost generation?

Jeremy Weine / Stringer | Getty Images

A generation that’s lost faith in capitalism is turning to the oldest lie on earth: equality through control.

Something is breaking in America’s young people. You can feel it in every headline, every grocery bill, every young voice quietly asking if the American dream still means anything at all.

For many, the promise of America — work hard, build something that lasts, and give the next generation a better start — feels like it no longer exists. Home ownership and stability have become luxuries for a fortunate few.

Capitalism is not a perfect system. It is flawed because people are flawed, but it remains the only system that rewards creativity and effort rather than punishing them.

In that vacuum of hope, a new promise has begun to rise — one that sounds compassionate, equal, and fair. The promise of socialism.

The appeal of a broken dream

When the American dream becomes a checklist of things few can afford — a home, a car, two children, even a little peace — disappointment quickly turns to resentment. The average first-time homebuyer is now 40 years old. Debt lasts longer than marriages. The cost of living rises faster than opportunity.

For a generation that has never seen the system truly work, capitalism feels like a rigged game built to protect those already at the top.

That is where socialism finds its audience. It presents itself as fairness for the forgotten and justice for the disillusioned. It speaks softly at first, offering equality, compassion, and control disguised as care.

We are seeing that illusion play out now in New York City, where Zohran Mamdani — an open socialist — has won a major political victory. The same ideology that once hid behind euphemisms now campaigns openly throughout America’s once-great cities. And for many who feel left behind, it sounds like salvation.

But what socialism calls fairness is submission dressed as virtue. What it calls order is obedience. Once the system begins to replace personal responsibility with collective dependence, the erosion of liberty is only a matter of time.

The bridge that never ends

Socialism is not a destination; it is a bridge. Karl Marx described it as the necessary transition to communism — the scaffolding that builds the total state. Under socialism, people are taught to obey. Under communism, they forget that any other options exist.

History tells the story clearly. Russia, China, Cambodia, Cuba — each promised equality and delivered misery. One hundred million lives were lost, not because socialism failed, but because it succeeded at what it was designed to do: make the state supreme and the individual expendable.

Today’s advocates insist their version will be different — democratic, modern, and kind. They often cite Sweden as an example, but Sweden’s prosperity was never born of socialism. It grew out of capitalism, self-reliance, and a shared moral culture. Now that system is cracking under the weight of bureaucracy and division.

ANGELA WEISS / Contributor | Getty Images

The real issue is not economic but moral. Socialism begins with a lie about human nature — that people exist for the collective and that the collective knows better than the individual.

This lie is contrary to the truths on which America was founded — that rights come not from government’s authority, but from God’s. Once government replaces that authority, compassion becomes control, and freedom becomes permission.

What young America deserves

Young Americans have many reasons to be frustrated. They were told to study, work hard, and follow the rules — and many did, only to find the goalposts moved again and again. But tearing down the entire house does not make it fairer; it only leaves everyone standing in the rubble.

Capitalism is not a perfect system. It is flawed because people are flawed, but it remains the only system that rewards creativity and effort rather than punishing them. The answer is not revolution but renewal — moral, cultural, and spiritual.

It means restoring honesty to markets, integrity to government, and faith to the heart of our nation. A people who forsake God will always turn to government for salvation, and that road always ends in dependency and decay.

Freedom demands something of us. It requires faith, discipline, and courage. It expects citizens to govern themselves before others govern them. That is the truth this generation deserves to hear again — that liberty is not a gift from the state but a calling from God.

Socialism always begins with promises and ends with permission. It tells you what to drive, what to say, what to believe, all in the name of fairness. But real fairness is not everyone sharing the same chains — it is everyone having the same chance.

The American dream was never about guarantees. It was about the right to try, to fail, and try again. That freedom built the most prosperous nation in history, and it can do so again if we remember that liberty is not a handout but a duty.

Socialism does not offer salvation. It requires subservience.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Rage isn’t conservatism — THIS is what true patriots stand for

Gary Hershorn / Contributor | Getty Images

Conservatism is not about rage or nostalgia. It’s about moral clarity, national renewal, and guarding the principles that built America’s freedom.

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.

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.

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.

Conservatism as stewardship

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.

Rebuilding what is broken

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.

A creed for the rising generation

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.