WI Voters Overwhelmingly Approve Voter ID Amendment To State Constitution

Wisconsin is among a handful of states that have enshrined the popular voter-integrity measure in state constitutions.

Yes, It’s Completely Constitutional For The U.S. Government To Promote Christianity

The states pushing legislation to display the Ten Commandments in public schools are all but guaranteed to end up at the Supreme Court.

Agree to disagree? More like surrender to the script



Wouldn’t you know it? It was bound to happen.

You’re chatting with a friend about this, that, and the other thing — carefully steering clear of politics, just like always.

You both know you don't see eye to eye when it comes to today’s contentious political landscape, so you do your best to keep things light. But then, out of nowhere, the forbidden topic appears. It sneaks into the conversation, innocently enough — until suddenly, it’s front and center.

I knew my friend Jeffrey didn’t like Trump, so I always tried to avoid politics when we talked. But somehow, I found myself on the phone with him getting a lecture on “how bad Trump is for democracy.”

What happened?

All I did was mention a film I thought we both appreciate: “Bonhoeffer: Pastor. Spy. Assassin.”

With people in general justifying the absolute obvious craziness of the far left by being silent and looking the other way, we can announce a brand-new term: ‘political immaturity.’

I genuinely believed it was a safe topic. We’re both Christians, both admirers of Dietrich Bonhoeffer and his courageous stand against Hitler and the Nazis. We also share respect for Eric Metaxas, whose book on Bonhoeffer many consider the definitive biography and which inspired the film adaptation.

Plus, Jeffrey knows I was Metaxas’ radio producer for many years. So really, I thought we were on solid, non-controversial ground.

But Jeffrey immediately jumped in to point out that Bonhoeffer’s descendants don’t support Eric Metaxas — because Metaxas supports Trump. That, in his view, proved just how awful Trump is and, dare I say it, how Hitler-like. From there, it was only a short leap to his inevitable conclusion: Trump is bad for democracy.

I calmly responded that descendants of historical figures, while entitled to their opinions, are just as influenced by the culture of their time as anyone else. Then I added what I considered the most glaring problem with his argument: the United States isn’t a democracy — we’re a constitutional republic.

I suggested that, in many ways, democracy can be a lousy form of government. After all, it allows 51% of the people to impose their will on the other 49%, forcing them to live under rules they didn’t choose and might not benefit from. In my quick tutorial on democracy versus the American system, I didn’t even get into the brilliance of the framers’ creation of the Electoral College — a safeguard that gives individual states real power and influence.

To my surprise, Jeffrey actually agreed with me on that point. But then he pivoted, arguing that Trump was just doing whatever he wanted — like sending back all the “asylum-seekers” who crossed the border during Joe Biden’s presidency.

I asked him how he knew all 15 million migrants (give or take) were asylum-seekers. Who vetted them? And I reminded him that Trump had nearly been blocked from deporting even the worst of the worst — violent criminals — by an unelected judge from ... well, somewhere.

Then I said, “It’s hard to imagine the words ‘Christian’ and ‘Democrat’ even appearing in the same sentence these days.”

That didn’t go over well.

I listed just a few of the issues Democrats continue to support. I left out the wide-open borders — which my friend seemed fine with, even after I brought up the rise in sex trafficking, fentanyl deaths, and inner-city crime — and focused on other examples. I mentioned sex-change procedures for children, drag queen story hours in public libraries, and men competing in women’s sports.

That’s when Jeffrey cut me off.

“Of course I don’t agree with those things,” he said.

And then came the words every far-left friend says when he's on the brink of losing an argument to inconvenient facts: “Let’s just agree to disagree.”

End of discussion.

Since Jeffrey is a friend, I let the conversation fizzle out. We exchanged a few more pleasantries and then said our goodbyes.

But not long after I hung up, I realized how disingenuous “agree to disagree” can be in a discussion or debate. That phrase shuts down dialogue. It signals that neither side will reconsider his position and, worse, that neither side is allowed to keep making his case or challenging the other’s facts.

What struck me even more was how casually Jeffrey used the phrase — not just with me, but seemingly with his own party. It was as if he could personally find things like child gender surgeries or men in women’s locker rooms repugnant — especially as a Christian — but still wave it all off because Democrats “stand up for the little guy.”

To avoid making waves, many Christians stepped onto the slippery slope of so-called “political correctness” years ago. The idea was simple: Being on the “right side” of politics meant standing up for marginalized people. And what Christian wouldn’t want to be seen doing that? After all, didn’t the Bible and the saints speak out for the disadvantaged?

But over time, political correctness evolved. Or rather, it escalated. “PC” gave way to “woke,” and suddenly we were all expected to embrace a new worldview — one in which anyone with a shred of sanity and compassion would naturally join the swelling ranks of the awakened. Christians, of course, were included in that expectation — if they knew what was good for them and wanted to belong to the era’s grand new “Awokening.”

So what’s next?

With people in general justifying the absolute obvious craziness of the far left by being silent and looking the other way, we can announce a brand-new term: “political immaturity.”

When you ignore common sense to do whatever you are told is “correct” and “woke,” you have not matured into rationally thinking for yourself. You might start with a wish to "go along to get along," and now you are being led around and told what to think and do like somebody's child.

The only hope for America over these next few critical years is a true Great Awakening to the truth within the church that can lead to a foundational restoration within this great country.

Optimistically speaking, if we take this route, future generations might look back and say with joy: “Wouldn’t you know it? It was bound to happen!”

Editor’s note: A version of this article appeared originally at American Thinker.

Judicial impeachment is a remedy — not a rebellion



Chief Justice John Roberts issued a statement last week declaring that “for more than two centuries, it has been established that impeachment is not an appropriate response to disagreement concerning a judicial decision.” His remarks come amid renewed debate over the scope of judicial accountability, as some conservatives, including President Trump, have called for the impeachment of Judge James Boasberg over his handling of cases related to deportations of alleged Venezuelan gang members.

Roberts’ assertion, while reflective of modern norms, oversimplifies history. The reality is more complicated: Judicial impeachment has, at times, been driven by judicial decisions and the conduct surrounding them. While impeachment should not be a routine mechanism for challenging case outcomes, history shows it has been used when a judge’s rulings indicate persistent bias, a disregard for legal constraints, or an abuse of judicial authority.

If a judge consistently rules in a manner that defies constitutional limits, impeachment is not a rejection of judicial independence — it is a safeguard against judicial tyranny.

The clearest rebuttal to Roberts’ statement is the impeachment of Supreme Court Justice Samuel Chase in 1804. Chase, a staunch Federalist, was accused of allowing his political views to shape his rulings, particularly in cases related to the Sedition Act. The House of Representatives impeached him for what was effectively a judicial philosophy that his opponents found intolerable.

The Senate ultimately acquitted Chase, but the very fact that he was impeached — explicitly for his conduct on the bench — undermines the claim that judicial decisions have never been a basis for impeachment.

Chase’s case is not an outlier. In 1803, Judge John Pickering was impeached and removed, partially for erratic behavior but also for making decisions Congress viewed as improper and politically motivated. Judge West Humphreys, a Confederate sympathizer, was removed in 1862 in part because his rulings reflected active opposition to federal law. These cases show that, historically, judicial decisions and their consequences have been central to impeachment discussions.

The constitutional framework

Roberts’ statement implies a rigid wall between impeachment and judicial decision-making, but the Constitution draws no such line.

Article III, Section 1 provides that judges hold office “during good Behaviour,” a standard distinct from the more lenient protections given to elected officials. Article II, Section 4 allows impeachment for “Treason, Bribery, or other high Crimes and Misdemeanors.” That last phrase, historically interpreted to include abuses of power, opens the door to judicial decisions being relevant — not as mere policy disagreements, but as evidence of a judge’s failure to uphold his duties impartially.

Alexander Hamilton in Federalist 81 acknowledged that judicial misconduct, including decisions reflecting personal bias or disregard for the law, could be grounds for impeachment. The notion that impeachment exists only for personal corruption, rather than judicial overreach or defiance of legal norms, is a modern interpretation rather than an ironclad constitutional principle.

When does a ruling become impeachable?

The key distinction between a bad decision and an impeachable ruling is that the latter falls into a pattern of rulings that indicate a judge is abandoning his role as a neutral arbiter. A single controversial opinion does not justify impeachment, but if a judge repeatedly defies precedent, injects personal ideology into his decisions, or rules in ways that ignore constitutional limits, impeachment could be an appropriate remedy.

Consider the executive branch: A president is not impeached simply for enacting an unpopular policy, but if he abuses his authority, Congress has the power to remove him. The same reasoning applies to the judiciary. If a judge consistently rules in a manner that defies constitutional limits, impeachment is not a rejection of judicial independence — it is a safeguard against judicial tyranny.

A guardrail, not a weapon

None of this is to say that impeachment should be a routine check on judicial power. Judicial independence requires that courts be protected from political retaliation.

But the absolutist claim that impeachment is never an appropriate response to judicial decisions erases historical precedent and ignores the Constitution’s broader framework. Impeachment is not a tool for re-litigating every case, but neither is it an untouchable relic of the past.

Whether or not Congress agrees with Trump that Judge Boasberg should be impeached, it is essential that both judges and lawmakers recognize impeachment as a legitimate constitutional mechanism when a judge is no longer upholding his duty. The debate should not be about whether judicial decisions can ever warrant impeachment — they have before, and they will again — but about where the line is drawn between bad rulings and a true abandonment of judicial responsibility.

Editor’s note: This article was originally published by RealClearPolitics and made available via RealClearWire.

Red state, blue ballot: Dems use direct democracy to flip states



With 64-6 and 32-3 majorities in the South Dakota House and Senate, Republicans alone have the power to advance or block their agenda. Yet, Republican Gov. Larry Rhoden’s veto of a key initiative petition reform bill hands Democrats an opening to continue pushing their agenda through the state’s highly manipulated ballot initiative process.

In the Mount Rushmore State, the Democratic Party is slightly less popular than herpes, which forces progressives to rely on massive outside funding to place their proposals directly on the ballot. Although the electorate leans conservative, ballot measures are often complex and confusing — one reason the nation’s founders rejected direct democracy in favor of a representative system.

It’s astonishing how, across red states, only the Freedom Caucus seems willing to stop the left from using ballot initiatives to shift policy in purple and blue directions.

This is especially true when it comes to constitutional amendments. At the federal level, amending the Constitution requires approval from two-thirds of Congress and ratification by three-quarters of the states. Yet at the state level, well-funded left-wing groups are trying to change constitutions with a simple 51% majority and carefully crafted ballot language — turning red states blue, one vote at a time.

A commonsense safeguard

Last year, liberal groups gathered enough signatures to place several controversial proposals on the South Dakota ballot: codifying abortion as a right, legalizing marijuana, and eliminating partisan primaries. Voters rejected all three, but these efforts reflect a growing trend. In other red states, similar campaigns have succeeded, using direct democracy to bypass conservative legislatures. Why continue to leave this pathway open — allowing progressives to rewrite the state’s constitution through tactics they could never achieve in the Capitol?

House Bill 1169 offered a commonsense safeguard. The bill would have required petition circulators to gather signatures from all 35 state Senate districts, totaling at least 5% of the votes cast in the most recent gubernatorial election. This district-level requirement would have supplemented the existing statewide threshold of 10%, already mandated by the state constitution.

Across the country, progressive groups are steering major policy questions directly to the ballot, often collecting most of their signatures from the most liberal population centers. In South Dakota, that means relying on Sioux Falls and Rapid City, rather than seeking broad statewide support.

“This bill would have finally given people in small towns and rural counties a voice in the petition process to amend our constitution,” House Speaker Jon Hansen (R) lamented after the governor’s veto. “If you live in a small, rural community, chances are you’ve never been approached by a petition circulator. That’s because most proposed constitutional amendments are placed on the ballot by paid circulators in Sioux Falls and Rapid City — without input from smaller communities. If you live in a small town, you rarely get a say in what amendments reach the ballot.”

The measure passed the House by a wide margin along party lines and cleared the Senate by a narrower 19-15 vote. Rhoden vetoed the bill earlier this week.

Absurd excuses

In his veto message, the governor hid behind concerns that the bill would not survive legal challenges. He suggested he supported the idea in principle but believed the measure would ultimately backfire — arguing it could empower, rather than restrain, well-funded special interests.

“The additional burden of collecting signatures from each of the 35 senatorial districts, each on a separate petition sheet, risks creating a system where only those with substantial financial resources can effectively undertake a statewide petition drive,” Rhoden wrote. “This undermines the bill's intent by putting South Dakotans at a disadvantage to dark money out-of-state groups.”

The argument is absurd. In a hypothetical scenario where rural districts lean as liberal as urban areas, Rhoden’s claim — that a uniform signature threshold across all districts would burden grassroots groups more than big-money interests — might hold water. In reality, South Dakota’s rural districts remain largely immune to left-wing campaigns. Passing HB 1169 would likely halt nearly all liberal petition efforts in the state.

That’s precisely why former state Sen. Reynold Nesiba, a Democrat from Sioux Falls, said he planned to launch a referendum to repeal the bill. “It will effectively end the constitutional amendment process initiated by citizens in South Dakota,” he warned.

That’s the point. Why would a Republican governor want to give the left a back door to influence state policy?

The idea that the bill would hinder conservative petitions doesn’t stand up to scrutiny, either. If a proposal has genuine conservative support, it should have no trouble passing through the Republican-controlled legislature. Conservatives only turn to the initiative process when liberal Republicans like Rhoden turn a supermajority trifecta into a uniparty circus.

Letting the left win

It’s astonishing how, across red states, only the Freedom Caucus seems willing to stop the left from using ballot initiatives to shift policy in purple and blue directions — just as it did in Alaska. In Missouri, GOP leadership has repeatedly dismissed Freedom Caucus efforts to rein in initiative petitions, even after the left used that very process to enshrine abortion rights in the state constitution.

In Florida, Gov. Ron DeSantis (R) called a special session earlier this year to address widespread petition fraud. But legislative leaders ignored his request and have been slow-walking reform legislation during the regular session.

This reluctance among Republican leaders to limit ballot initiatives reveals a troubling truth: Many of them quietly support certain left-wing goals but don’t want their fingerprints on the results. They’re fine with legalizing recreational marijuana, weary of the abortion fight, and unwilling to oppose Medicaid expansion.

By allowing Democrats to exploit the initiative process, these Republicans effectively outsource controversial policy changes to the ballot box — letting the left win while they avoid tough votes.

Amy Coney Barrett Could Be A Superb Supreme Court Justice. She’s Choosing Not To Be

What Barrett fails to realize is that her failure to consistently abide by originalist doctrine is placing Americans' constitutional rights at risk.

With Each Injunction, The Courts Become An Unelected Ruling Class

This obstruction is far from what the framers intended.

Trump Derangement Syndrome Will Destroy The Judicial Branch

Americans intuitively understand that the judiciary’s primary role is to protect the rights of American citizens, not those of bureaucracies.

Trump delivers on education, but activist judges stand in the way



President Donald Trump on Thursday signed an executive order aimed at abolishing the Department of Education and returning most of its resources to the state level, delivering on one of his biggest campaign promises. While the order is a step in the right direction, Trump alone can’t dismantle the department. Jimmy Carter first created the agency, and later, Congress cemented it into law, meaning only Congress can dismantle it. The president can’t just wave a magic wand and make it disappear.

Democrats would have you believe that Trump’s executive order is a constitutional crisis — that education is, and always was intended to be, under the jurisdiction of the federal government. This simply is not the case.

Today, the Department of Education operates beyond its charter, and activist judges make law from the bench.

According to the Department of Education Organization Act, the federal government never intended to usurp state and local governments' authority over education:

It is the intention of the Congress in the establishment of the Department to protect the rights of State and local governments and public and private educational institutions in the areas of educational policies and administration of programs and to strengthen and improve the control of such governments and institutions over their own educational programs and policies.

The ED has metastasized into the opposite of its original intention. Instead of protecting local control, the agency has become a federal behemoth dictating curriculum, policy, and administration at every level — a total inversion of its founding purpose.

Moreover, the founding document states that “the establishment of the Department of Education shall not increase the authority of the federal government over education.”

That didn’t age well, did it? Today, the federal government wields tremendous authority over what schools teach, how they operate, and who gets funding. It’s a bureaucratic monstrosity that Congress never intended to exist in its current form.

This pattern of government action straying away from its original intention is nothing new. In recent memory, the authors of the Patriot Act have bemoaned how the government currently uses the Act to broaden federal authority beyond its indented scope. However, one lesson from history always holds true: Once you give the government an inch, it takes a mile — every single time. America’s founders knew this, and that’s why they designed a system of checks and balances.

Overreach spreads to the courts

The left’s backlash against Trump’s actions on the Department of Education highlights a broader issue: government institutions, particularly the courts, overstepping their authority. Judges are increasingly issuing rulings based on ideology rather than law, using injunctions as a tool to block Trump’s policies with little to no recourse for appeal.

This is judicial activism. Judges are supposed to interpret the law, not write it. Imagine a football referee deciding that a touchdown is suddenly worth 10 points instead of six — just because he feels like it. That’s exactly what activist judges are doing — changing the rules mid-game to fit their agenda.

The Constitution’s framers foresaw the potential for activist judges and offered solutions to keep them in check. In Federalist 78, Alexander Hamilton states that judges should not have life tenure unless they maintain “good behavior,” meaning they can be removed if they step out of line. In Federalist 81, Hamilton goes farther, making it clear that judges can be impeached if they abuse their power.

History has since established precedent. In the 1832 case Worcester v. Georgia, the Supreme Court ruled that Georgia had to stop interfering with Cherokee land. Georgia ignored it. The judge could rule about the legality of the case, but ultimately, he lacked the final authority to enforce the law.

I’m not suggesting that we ignore the courts entirely. However, we must recognize that the judiciary was never meant to be the ultimate authority. It was designed to be the weakest branch of government — it has no army, no budget, and no enforcement power beyond its rulings. Congress holds the purse strings, and the president commands the military.

Time to restore balance

The president’s move to cut the Department of Education, along with his other major checks against our unhinged federal bureaucracy, is a step in the right direction. But it’s not enough to just trim it — we need to restore it to its original purpose or dismantle it entirely.

Likewise, we need to rein in the courts. Judges should not be legislators in robes, and it’s this unchecked power that has enabled the federal bureaucracy to mutate into its current form today. Congress has the power to check them, and it’s time that lawmakers use it.

Our founders designed a system where no single branch could dominate the others. But today, the Department of Education operates beyond its charter, and activist judges make law from the bench. We have strayed far from the system of government America’s founders envisioned.

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