Glenn Beck: Vote San Fran out

GLENN: I think we should look at a map today and decide what's in and what's out. No, no. No, no, I know it's July 4th weekend and everything, but let's have our own Constitutional Convention, shall we? I mean, everybody else is changing everything. Right now San Francisco is sending drug-dealing illegal aliens on a free trip home. Now, normally I'd be for that. However, they're doing it to avoid federal prosecution. The cops will pick up these crack-dealing illegal aliens, they'll go in and they'll go into juvenile court because Honduras is sending all these kids to deal crack in San Francisco. I think, you know, the city council, to come up with the stuff they've done, they need a lot of crack. So Honduras is sending these crack dealers to San Francisco, and San Francisco, in the goodness of their heart, they say, gosh, they're busted for selling dope on the street, then they'll never become citizens. Good! Isn't that a good thing? How did this happen? When did San Francisco go completely insane?

Now, I know it's been a very long time. I'm just wondering has it always been that -- maybe there's a fissure somewhere and, like, weird gas is seeping out and everybody in San Francisco is just breathing it and they don't smell it. It's like natural gas. You don't really smell it and you're like, I'm getting sleepy. And instead of getting sleepy, they just go nuts. I mean, they don't support the ROTC, they go against everything that our country stands for. They are constantly trying to turn us into a socialist state. Why don't you just become your own country, San Francisco? I mean it. I'm serious. I'd come visit ya. It would be great. No, seriously it would. Be like, oh. You know, I never went to the old Soviet Union. Wouldn't it be great to be able to go to San Francisco where everybody could live in misery? You could just visit? You could, like, "Hmmm, this system doesn't really seem to work." I mean, the only reason why San Francisco is standing is because they're on the teat of everybody else. The only reason why they're secure is because they have the army, but they don't support it. So why don't we just vote them out. Can't we do that, please, please? Stu, please will you give me permission? Please?

STU: I mean, I'm not a constitutional scholar here.

GLENN: But you're willing to go with me, aren't ya?

STU: But it seems like that would be fine. There's an amendment in there somewhere that covers that.

GLENN: No, I don't think there is.

STU: No, if you --

GLENN: Really?

STU: Yeah.

GLENN: You know what, I may need those special Ben Franklin glasses that I saw in that movie. Maybe that's what it is. If you put the glasses on and you're like, oh, you can vote them out. I mean, I'm looking at the map here and there's very few cities that I really want voted out. San Francisco, Berkeley, Oakland, they all kind of -- have you noticed that they all are kind of on the coasts?

STU: All the cities you want to vote out?

GLENN: Hmmm?

STU: All the cities you want to vote out are on the coast? That doesn't surprise me too much.

GLENN: I mean, not universally so. Houston's kind of on the coast. Tampa's on the coast.

STU: Here's the problem. If you vote all the coastal cities off, then you have no -- I mean, you have no waterfront property. We would lose all of our --

GLENN: That's why I don't want to get rid of all coastal cities. I'm not getting rid of San Diego. San Diego is sweet. San Diego, come on, man. You can take San Francisco. That's what we should do. We should just start pitting them against each other.

STU: So you are saying you kind of want imperialist cities that will, like, start taking over other cities?

GLENN: Seriously, seriously. Don't you think, Stu, you, me and, like, I don't know, Marcus Luttrell could take -- okay. Don't you think Marcus Luttrell could take San Francisco?

STU: Yeah, Marcus --

GLENN: I mean, we would just be there for -- I don't know. He might once in a while say, I need a distraction.

STU: Or a soda. We could bring him soda.

GLENN: We could bring him a soda. You don't think San Diego could kick San Francisco's ass?

STU: Well, yes. I mean, if I had to pick a fight, I don't understand how we're judging that but I would say yes, it does seem that way. Although, I mean action things are so perfect in San Diego, I feel like you're in kind of like perfect temperatures all the time. You might just be like, "I don't really feel like it." I feel like they would be more of a Switzerland. They would just be kind of, like, hanging out.

GLENN: Although when was the last time you were in San Diego? Probably a couple of months ago, wasn't it?

STU: Two weeks ago or so.

GLENN: Two weeks ago?

STU: Yeah.

GLENN: Do you notice the number of flag poles?

STU: Oh, yeah, yeah.

GLENN: San Diego is the Texas of California. I mean it. It is.

STU: That being accurate.

GLENN: It is the Texas of California. It's like the one place that you go. I mean, I can't say this for the city government, but it's the one place you go where the citizens will go, "Get the hell out of my face."

STU: I just feel like, maybe I'm judging on how I feel when I go to San Diego which I don't even go -- I can't get -- the farthest I can get from the bed is the pool. Like, I can't do anything. There's no exercise, there's no --

GLENN: I can't even, I can't even get to the bed or the pool. I'd, like, sit down -- I sit down like in a lounge chair and I'm just like, honey, I'm just going to sit here for a week.

STU: Yeah.

GLENN: I can't even get to the bed or the pool.

STU: Yeah, your brain and your body shut down. So I know I wouldn't be effective but I mean, that -- you know, the people there, they're used to it.

GLENN: The people there, you know. I mean, come on. You're wearing shorts and short sleeve shirts year round. Once in a while you'll be like, "I don't know, let's do something else. Let's take over San Francisco." Might need a change, you know?

STU: I feel like that's possible. I don't know -- like, I feel like there's a possibility, too, of just the entire state of Nevada trying to, you know, make sort of invasions into California, just taking some land because, you know, like, I feel like California, like a lot of the cities and everybody, they're constantly banning guns and attempting to and making all the gun -- but then the next state over, very libertarian state of Nevada where they just want to do what they want to do. I mean, you can do anything in that state.

GLENN: I got a new idea. I got a new idea. Let's give San Francisco away to the city that can take it. For instance, you have a good point on San Diego. San Diego just, you know, they're like, "San Diego, what do you want San Francisco for." Cleveland, on the other hand, --

STU: Yeah.

GLENN: I'd put my money on.

STU: They would be very interested, I think, in that.

GLENN: They would be very interested. They would be very interested. Now, not all parts of Cleveland. You know, Cleveland, let's say the actual city of Cleveland probably would -- oh, my gosh. I got it. We let all the suburbs of Cleveland go kick all the city dwellers of San Francisco out and all the San Francisco people live in the suburbs of Cleveland. That way it matches. You know what I mean?

STU: No, I don't think I understand. I'll be perfectly honest.

GLENN: It matches. The people in the city of Cleveland are so liberal, they're just --

STU: Well, they keep electing Dennis Kucinich.

GLENN: Exactly right. So don't you think a city that elects Dennis Kucinich deserves the people of San Francisco? And don't you think the right-thinking Americans in the suburbs of Cleveland deserve a nice city like San Francisco?

STU: There's a strong argument to be made here, Glenn. You know, you really are, you're like a Soviet central planner. You could just make all these decisions yourself.

GLENN: You know what, here's another thing -- oh, and I'd do it, too. Somebody said to me when we were on the tour, they said, "After I heard that speech in the second half of the Unelectable tour, I don't think you're unelectable. I really think you could be elected President." I said, no for two reasons: One, if I ever was President, I'd vaporize too many places; and two, I would do things like this. I would say, yeah, you know what, San Francisco, we're cutting you off of all federal funding. Sucks to be you, huh?

STU: It seems like every time I hear someone say that to you after one of these tours or something, you should run. You just get that, it's like the Indian who sees the litter and he turns around and a tear comes down his face. That's how I feel because it's just, that's how low our standards are in this country.

GLENN: It really is.

STU: They are willing to think about you as possibly something other than a rodeo clown.

GLENN: They're alcoholics. Anybody who says that's an alcoholic.

STU: Even an alcoholic shouldn't be considering you.

GLENN: No, they're drunks.

STU: I agree. I mean, I agree but I'm just saying that you're, at the very highest level of rodeo clown.

GLENN: Can I ask you this. Why are we fighting global warming? I'm looking at the map of the United States of America and I'm like, you know, I'm just, I'm looking at the map. You know, I'm seeing Duluth, Minnesota and I'm thinking, I don't want to live there. Eau Claire, Wisconsin, no thank you. Cleveland, not so much. Not so much. Buffalo, I don't think so. And then you look down at the southern part and you see St. Petersburg, Florida. Yeah, you know what I'm saying? San Diego, Phoenix, yeah. Flagstaff, that's great. Lake Tahoe, wouldn't you want to live there?

STU: So what you are saying is you are rooting for global warming?

GLENN: No, I'm thinking of a couple of things. Atlanta, Columbia, Charlotte, Raleigh, Richmond. Are you seeing a trend here? Are you seeing a trend?

STU: Yes.

GLENN: They're all southern.

STU: Yes.

GLENN: Okay? A, I'm kind of rooting now for the South. And when it comes to global warming, have you noticed that all of the cities that people are moving to are warmer? Don't you think the people in the north should start rooting for global warming because then, you know, Baton Rouge, Louisiana would be, like, 134 degrees and Minneapolis-St. Paul would be 70.

STU: You seem to have this strange -- you seem to be rooting for some sort of civil conflict here, potentially Civil War Part 2. I don't know what the reasoning for that is. Is it one story about crack dealers? Is that the motivation?

GLENN: That's what it is, yeah. You don't think it's time to kick San Francisco's ass? Let's be honest. You know, I want to take a freak jury. I'm coming back with a freak jury. Question is, isn't it time we just kick San Francisco's ass? Enough said. Yes or no. It just is as easy as that. 12 cold calls, one decision. And you know what? I don't want a hung jury. I don't even want it close. It's yes or no. It's pretty simple. Don't you think it's time we kick their ass; or kick them out or stop all their federal funding. You can't support it, you can't play by the rules. San Francisco, we're coming to kick your ass. We'll see you at noon today. And then around 12:30 we'll have lunch because the job will be done. All the hippies will be crying by 12:05, "They've got guns." We'll have lunch. See you, hippie freak. 

On Wednesday's TV show, Glenn Beck sat down with radio show host, author, political commentator, and film critic, Michael Medved.

Michael had an interesting prediction for the 2020 election outcome: a brokered convention by the DNC will usher in former First Lady Michelle Obama to run against President Donald Trump.

Watch the video below to hear why he's making this surprising forecast:

Use code BECK to save $10 on one year of BlazeTV.

Want more from Glenn Beck?

To enjoy more of Glenn's masterful storytelling, thought-provoking analysis and uncanny ability to make sense of the chaos, subscribe to BlazeTV — the largest multi-platform network of voices who love America, defend the Constitution and live the American dream.

On Thursday's "Glenn Beck Radio Program," BlazeTV's White House correspondent Jon Miller described the current situation in Virginia after Gov. Ralph Northam (D) declared a state of emergency and banned people carrying guns at Capitol Square just days before a pro-Second-Amendment rally scheduled on Martin Luther King Jr. Day.

Jon told Glenn that Gov. Northam and the Virginia Legislature are "trying to deprive the people of their Second Amendment rights" but the citizens of Virginia are "rising up" to defend their constitutional rights.

"I do think this is the flashpoint," Jon said. "They [Virginia lawmakers] are saying, 'You cannot exercise your rights ... and instead of trying to de-escalate the situation, we are putting pressure. We're trying to escalate it and we're trying to enrage the citizenry even more'."

Glenn noted how Gov. Northam initially blamed the threat of violence from Antifa for his decision to ban weapons but quickly changed his narrative to blame "white supremacists" to vilify the people who are standing up for the Second Amendment and the Constitution.

"What he's doing is, he's making all all the law-abiding citizens of Virginia into white supremacists," Glenn said.

"Sadly, that's exactly right," Jon replied. "And I think he knows exactly what he's doing."

Watch the video to catch more of the conversation below:

Use code BECK to save $10 on one year of BlazeTV.

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To enjoy more of Glenn's masterful storytelling, thought-provoking analysis and uncanny ability to make sense of the chaos, subscribe to BlazeTV — the largest multi-platform network of voices who love America, defend the Constitution and live the American dream.

Ryan: Trump Louisiana Finale

Photo by Jim Dale

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

At the end of Trump rallies, I would throw on my Carhartt jacket, sneak out of the press area, then blend in with everyone as they left, filing out through swinging doors.

Often, someone held the door open for me. Just 30 minutes earlier, the same person had most likely had most likely hissed at me for being a journalist. And now they were Sunday smiles and "Oh, yes, thank you, sir" like some redneck concierge.

People flooded out of the arena with the stupidity of a fire drill mishap, desperate to survive.

The air smacked you as soon as you crossed the threshold, back into Louisiana. And the lawn was a wasteland of camping chairs and coolers and shopping bags and to-go containers and soda cans and articles of clothing and even a few tents.

In Monroe, in the dark, the Trump supporters bobbled over mounds of waste like elephants trying to tiptoe. And the trash was as neutral to them as concrete or grass. They plodded over it because it, an object, had somehow gotten in their way.

It did not matter that they were responsible for this wreckage.Out in the sharp-edged moonlight, rally-goers hooted and yapped and boogied and danced, and the bbq food truck was all smoke and paper plates.

They were even more pumped than they had been before the rally, like 6,000 eight year olds who'd been chugging Mountain Dew for hours. Which made Donald Trump the father, the trooper, God of the Underworld, Mr. Elite, Sheriff on high horse, the AR-15 sticker of the family.

Ritualistic mayhem, all at once. And, there in Louisiana, Trump's supporters had gotten a taste of it. They were all so happy. It bordered on rage.

Still, I could not imagine their view of America. Worse, after a day of strange hostilities, I did not care.

My highest priority, my job as a reporter, was to care. To understand them and the world that they inhabit. But I did not give a damn and I never wanted to come back.

Worst of all, I would be back. In less than a week.

Was this how dogs felt on the 4th of July? Hunched in a corner while everyone else gets drunk and launches wailing light into the sky? configurations of blue and red and white.

It was 10:00 p.m. and we'd been traveling since 11:00 a.m., and we still had 5 hours to go and all I wanted was a home, my home, any home, just not here, in the cold sweat of this nowhere. Grey-mangled sky. No evidence of planes or satellites or any proof of modern-day. Just century-old bridges that trains shuffled over one clack at a time.

And casinos, all spangles and neon like the 1960s in Las Vegas. Kitchy and dumb, too tacky for lighthearted gambling. And only in the nicer cities, like Shreveport, which is not nice at all.

And swamp. Black water that rarely shimmered. Inhabited by gadflies and leeches and not one single fish that was pretty.

Full of alligators, and other killing types. The storks gnawing on frogs, the vultures never hungry. The coyotes with nobody to stop them and so much land to themselves. The roaches in the wild, like tiny wildebeests.

Then, the occasional deer carcass on the side of the road, eyes splayed as if distracted, tongue out, relaxed but empty. The diseased willows like skeletons in hairnets. The owls that never quit staring. A million facets of wilderness that would outlive us all.

Because Nature has poise. It thrives and is original.

Because silence is impossible. Even in an anechoic chamber, perfectly soundproofed, you can hear your own heartbeat, steady as a drum. A never-ending war.

I put "Headache" by Grouper on repeat as we glided west. We were deadlocked to asphalt, rubber over tarface.

And I thought about lines from a Rita Dove poem titled "I have been a stranger in a strange land"

He was off cataloging the universe, probably,
pretending he could organize
what was clearly someone else's chaos.

Wasn't that exactly what I was doing? Looking for an impossible answer, examining every single accident, eager for meaning? telling myself, "If it happens and matters the next year, in America, I want to be there, or to know what it means. I owe it to whoever cares to listen."

Humans are collectors and I had gone overboard.

Because maybe this wasn't even my home. These landmarks, what did they mean? Was I obvious here? When I smiled, did I trick them into believing that I felt some vague sense of approval? Or did my expressions betray me?

Out in all that garbage-streaked emptiness — despite the occasional burst of passing halogen — I couldn't tell if everything we encountered was haunted or just old, derelict, broken, useless. One never-ending landfill.

Around those parts, they'd made everything into junk. Homes. Roads. Glass. Nature. Life itself, they made into junk.

I cringed as we passed yet another deer carcass mounded on the side of the road.

As written in Job 35:11,

Who teaches us more than the beasts of the earth and makes us wiser than the birds in the sky?

Nobody. Look at nature and you feel something powerful. Look at an animal, in all of its untamable majesty, and you capture a deep love, all swept up in the power of creation. But, here, all I saw were poor creatures who people had slammed into and kept driving. Driving to where? For what reason? What exactly was so important that they left a trail of dead animals behind them?

So I crossed myself dolorously and said an "Our Father" and recited a stanza from Charles Bukowski's "The Laughing Heart"

you can't beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.

Out here, nothing but darkness. Needing some light, by God. Give me something better than a Moon that hides like an underfed coward.

Jade told me about some of the more traumatic things she'd seen while working at the State Fair.

"Bro, they pull roaches out of the iced lemonade jugs and act like nothing happened."

"All right but what about the corn dogs?"

"You do not want to know, little bro."

She looked around in the quiet. "Back in the day, the Louisiana Congress refused to raise the drinking age from 18 to 21," she said. "They didn't want to lose all that drunk gambler money. So the federal government cut off funding to highways."

We glided through moon-pale landscape for an hour before I realized what she had meant. That there weren't any light poles or billboards along the road. Nothing to guide us or distract us. Just us, alone. And it felt like outer space had collapsed, swallowed us like jellybeans.

Like two teenagers playing a prank on the universe.

In the cozy Subaru Crosstrek, in the old wild night, brimming with the uncertainty of life and the nonchalance of failure, we paraded ourselves back to Dallas. Alive in the river silence that follows us everywhere.

New installments come Mondays and Thursdays. Next, the Iowa caucuses. Check out my Twitter. Email me at kryan@blazemedia.com

The Iowa primary is just around the corner, and concerns of election interference from the last presidential election still loom. Back in 2016, The Associated Press found that a majority of U.S. elections systems still use Windows 7 as an operating system, making them highly susceptible to bugs and errors. And last year, a Mississippi voter tried multiple times to vote for the candidate of his choice, but the system continuously switched his vote to the other candidate. It's pretty clear: America's voting systems desperately need an update.

That's where blockchain voting comes in.

Blockchain voting is a record-keeping system that's 100% verifiable and nearly impossible to hack. Blockchain, the newest innovation in cybersecurity, is set to grow into a $20 billion industry by 2025. Its genius is in its decentralized nature, distributing information throughout a network of computers, requiring would-be hackers to infiltrate a much larger system. Infiltrating multiple access points spread across many computers requires a significant amount of computing power, which often costs more than hackers expect to get in return.

Blockchain voting wouldn't allow for many weak spots. For instance, Voatz, arguably the leading mobile voting platform, requires a person to take a picture of their government-issued ID and a picture of themselves before voting (a feature, of course, not present in vote-by-mail, where the only form of identity verification is a handwritten signature, which is easily forgeable). Voters select their choices and hit submit. They then receive an immediate receipt of their choices via email, another security feature not present in vote-by-mail, or even in-person voting. And because the system operates on blockchain technology, it's nearly impossible to tamper with.

Votes are then tabulated, and the election results are published, providing a paper trail, which is a top priority for elections security experts.

The benefits of blockchain voting can't be dismissed. Folks can cast their vote from the comfort of their homes, offices, etc., vastly increasing the number of people who can participate in the electoral process. Two to three-hour lines at polling places, which often deter voters, would become significantly diminished.

Even outside of the voting increase, the upsides are manifold. Thanks to the photo identification requirements, voter fraud—whether real or merely suspected—would be eliminated. The environment would win, too, since we'd no longer be wasting paper on mail-in ballots. Moreover, the financial burden on election offices would be alleviated, because there's decreased staff time spent on the election, saving the taxpayer money.

From Oregon to West Virginia, elections offices have already implemented blockchain voting, and the results have been highly positive. For example, the city of Denver utilized mobile voting for overseas voters in their 2019 municipal elections. The system was secure and free of technical errors, and participants reported that it was very user-friendly. Utah County used the same system for their 2019 primary and general elections. An independent audit revealed that every vote that was cast on the app was counted and counted correctly. These successful test cases are laying the groundwork for even larger expansions of the program in 2020.

With this vital switch, our elections become significantly more secure, accurate, and efficient. But right now, our election infrastructure is a sitting duck for manipulation. Our current lack of election integrity undermines the results of both local and national elections, fans the flames of partisanship, and zaps voter confidence in the democratic system. While there's never a silver bullet or quick fix to those kinds of things, blockchain voting would push us much closer to a solution than anything else.

Chris Harelson is the Executive Director at Prosperity Council and a Young Voices contributor.