Joe Biden did WHAT to the children at the White House Halloween event?!



President Joe Biden has an odd history when it comes to his interactions with children. Besides kids jumping on his lap, he also apparently enjoys biting them.

At the White House’s 2024 Halloween event, Joe Biden was filmed several times playfully biting little babies in their mothers’ arms.

Sara Gonzales plays the clips that have since gone viral on social media.

“Didn’t they call JD Vance weird?” asks actor and BlazeTV contributor Matthew Marsden.

“They did call JD Vance weird. I’ve never seen JD Vance try to bite an infant,” says Sara.

Blaze Media’s digital strategist Logan Hall says in addition to perhaps being “a little creepy,” the timing of Biden’s odd interactions with children couldn’t have come at a better time for Republicans.

“You have to think about the optics. Yesterday Trump sets the internet on fire with his garbage man stunt ... instant viral sensation. That compared to Joe Biden biting a baby — I mean the contrast could not be more clear,” he says.

“He's actually been doing this sniffing and getting way too inappropriate with children for a very long time,” adds Sara, playing a video compilation of Joe Biden touching children in ways that can only be described as wildly inappropriate.

“Oh, Secret Service would be pulling me off him,” says Marsden.

To hear more of the conversation, watch the full segment above.

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Social Media Erupts As Biden Bites Multiple Babies Dressed In Costumes

‘Joe Biden is literally BITING BABIES’

My great-grandfather cast out a demon — that night, it returned



We never celebrated Halloween. My family were so Protestant that they rejected any ritual or tradition that was not explicitly detailed in the Bible.

Even though we never dressed up as witches and wizards, we believed in demons. You might say it was a requirement of the "family business."

They could hear an axe swing against one pine tree, then another, randomly and drawing nearer. This was punctuated with bursts of maniacal laughter.

My paternal grandfather was a traveling evangelical preacher who had seen and cast out demons. He’d jump on the trampoline with us, and then when we were all exhausted, he’d regale us with tales from the Bible or stories from his youth.

Family tradition

He'd grown up the third of thirteen children. One of his most memorable stories was about his father, a former Pentecostal preacher who also had a talent for ridding people of the demonic.

It happened when my grandfather and his brothers were teenagers. The family had met a middle-aged husband and wife who owned a forested island in Florida. Eventually the woman came to my great-grandfather with a problem: Her husband had demons. Could my great-grandfather help?

He could. My grandfather watched as his father cast out the man's demons.

The axe falls

My grandfather and his brothers camped on the island that night to watch over the couple, who were now friends of the family.

There were four or five of the brothers gathered around a campfire singing gospel songs they’d learned or written and popping corn. Everything was dark except for the fire at their center and the stars above them.

Then chopping soundsinterrupted their singing. It sounded like someone was cutting a tree down somewhere — which was odd, considering that they were on an island that nobody lived on except the middle-aged couple, who were certainly sleeping right now and not chopping anything.

Nevertheless, they started to sing another song.

Sound and fury

The sounds became stranger. They could hear an axe swing against one pine tree, then another, randomly and drawing nearer. This was punctuated with bursts of maniacal laughter.

Whatever it was at first seemed to be several miles away, and then two, and then only one. Now it was a quarter-mile away. The brothers had stopped singing, and they waited until they were sure that the creature — man or evil spirit — was quite close.

The brothers put their heads together and formed a plan to surround it. If it were a trespasser, they’d catch him and tell him he wasn’t allowed to be chopping trees here! They convinced themselves that they were not scared, because God was on their side — and they figured there were more of them and only one of whatever it was.

Spiritual combat

They spread out and closed in around the laughing man, who continued to chop at the trees, coming nearer to them. When they knew the voice was at their very center, they rushed at it. The creature broke into one last, long laugh.

Whoosh! They were all pushed back as something went up out of their midst. Faint laughter rose to the top of the pine trees. It stayed up there for a moment, then fell back to the ground outside their circle.

The sound of the axe chopping at the trees resumed, but this time it began traveling away from them until it faded away. They knew then that it was the demon their father had cast out of the man that day.

They returned to the campfire. Their popcorn was burnt, and they all felt a little unnerved.

In the morning they looked around the forest, but they could find no sign of any tree being cut into. After that, they would see other demons, but that particular devil was never heard from again.

Vampires, werewolves, and the very real evil stalking our souls



Since the dawn of October, I’ve found myself thinking often about two iconic monsters — the bloodthirsty vampire and the shapeshifting werewolf.

Perhaps it’s the Halloween decorations everywhere, the pop-up costume shops on every corner, or the horror films Netflix keeps recommending to me.

The vampiric spirit of bloodlust is easy enough to see in the widespread demand for unfettered abortion.

It could also be my recent discovery of “Haunted Cosmos” — a podcast for the highly curious that examines myth, legend, and the paranormal through the lens of Christian doctrine.

The creators of the series, Ben Garrett and Brian Sauve, make the case that much of what Christians dismiss as superstition is either true, partially true, or, at bare minimum, inspired by something true.

They take seriously the notion of aliens, dragons, Bigfoot, faeries, monsters, and the like. Using scripture as their decoder, they ask: Does the Bible offer support for the existence of these creatures?

Mask off

Whether or not stories about vampires and werewolves refer to actual creatures in the world (Garrett and Sauve have devoted fantastic episodes to this topic), one thing seems undeniably true to me.

The evil depicted by these legends is real — as real as the ground beneath our feet.

I’ve also been connecting the dots between this primordial evil and two of the most alarming modern issues contributing to the decline of the West. While these concepts may seem worlds apart, I sense a sinister connection between them.

The vampire and werewolf must be regarded in earnest because they pervade history. Every culture across time has some version of these evil entities. And when a thread of thought weaves through time and place, surely it hides a deeper truth. But what?

As a Christian, my answer to that question is that supernatural forces that crave human blood and revel in the idea of shapeshifting exist. They are demonic in nature and very powerful.

The anti-gospel

A vampire is a being who lives by taking the life force (the blood) of others. Is that not the antithesis of the gospel message? The vampire says, "Your blood for my life," whereas Jesus gave his blood so that we might live.

Vampirism is an anti-gospel. It expresses the rebellion of the original fallen angel — that great foil to Yahweh, Satan. That’s not to say vampires with fangs who sleep in coffins exist but rather that the entity that gave birth to such a myth exists.

The same goes for the spirit or entity that inspired the werewolf archetype. A werewolf is a man who, infected by evil, is forced to reject his nature and become a grotesque version of who he was intended to be. Again, we see an obvious perversion of God’s design. The rejection of our own nature is a rejection of our creator, who made us in his own image. This is also an anti-gospel.

Perhaps it’s a stretch to say that the same demonic entities that inspired vampires and werewolves are currently terrorizing the West, but I don’t think so. Not when I look closely at two of the biggest evils facing us today — evils directly caused by the rejection of our Judeo-Christian heritage.

What are abortion and transgenderism, after all, but the return of those iconic creatures of death, the vampire and the werewolf.

Shout Your Abortion

The vampiric spirit of bloodlust is easy enough to see in the widespread demand for unfettered abortion — especially on the furthest flank of the left, which openly relishes the slaughter of the unborn. One particular attendee at a pro-choice rally comes to mind. On her rotund, third-trimester belly were painted the words “NOT A BABY.” The image still haunts me.

There’s also the Shout Your Abortion organization, which quite literally encourages women to celebrate their abortions and share their “success stories.” SYA’s mission statement outlines its intentions to create a society where “abortion is free, de-stigmatized, and accessible in every community across the country.” In other words, these people really love the idea of boundless bloodshed.

Consider the murderous zeal of Minnesota governor — and Kamala Harris' running mate — Tim Walz, who signed a statute repealing the law that required babies who survive botched abortions to receive life-saving care. Even those whose lives have been miraculously spared cannot escape doom under the Walz regime.

Father of lies

However, not everyone is so candid about their desire to facilitate a genocide against the unborn. There are vampires who employ seduction to achieve their twisted desires. Like the serpent who used language to ensnare Eve in the garden, these cunning bloodsuckers deceive their victims with poetic discourse.

In Bram Stoker’s “Dracula,” the titular count tells his quarry, “Mina, to walk with me you must die to your breathing life and be reborn to mine.” That’s a very polite way of expressing your intentions to gorge on someone’s blood and turn them into a fellow wraith.

Pro-choicers of this kind speak in euphemisms. They make abortion — the bloody disruption of the holy process during which God knits a soul into being — sound practical, moral, even benevolent: Women’s health care, reproductive rights, life-saving interventions.

Having been wooed and deceived, the vampire’s victim walks willingly to her — and it’s almost always a her — death. Similarly, young women are seduced by euphemistic pro-choice language and agree to not their own death but something even worse — the death of their innocent child. We see the common thread: Young women, deceived by language, make a decision that results in a bloody death.

Unleashing the beast within

As for the demonic entity that inspired the shapeshifting werewolf, I see its handiwork primarily in the transgender movement. An ideology that is capable of subverting language, butchering healthy bodies, removing children from loving homes, and obliterating the guardrails that have long protected women is a demonic ideology.

At its root is Satan’s original sin: He thought he was better than God. Transgenderism shares the same core belief — the same pride-filled ideation that we supersede the King of kings.

A man who believes he is a woman and attempts to reshape himself in accordance with this belief sins in three ways: He rejects himself, thereby rejecting the one in whose image he was created; he rejects God, purporting to know better than his own creator; and he imitates the deceiver, who is also a shapeshifter. The same goes for a woman who attempts to shed her God-given form and become a man.

Like the werewolf who is both destroyed and inflicts destruction, so, too, the transgender individual destroys his or her own body and/or psyche and perpetuates a destructive, demonic creed.

The darkness remains

I do not believe that the millions of people foaming at the mouth demanding abortion access for all just have a different perspective than me. I do not think that the doctors sterilizing children and cutting off their healthy body parts merely grew up differently than I did. That’s an oversimplification of the problem at hand.

Of course, we need to speak out and fight back against the organizations pushing these causes, the politicians working to enshrine them in law, the billionaires funding them, and the protesters storming the streets chanting for abortion access and trans rights.

At the same time, however, we need to look beyond these flesh-and-blood adversaries in order to see the true author of these evils. It is not man.

“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 6:12).

As Halloween approaches, my neighbors are quite literally pulling skeletons out of their closets, adorning their porches and lawns with all varieties of dark paraphernalia.

Two doors down from me, one couple has turned their entire front yard into a haunted graveyard featuring every monstrous creature imaginable, including — you guessed it — a vampire and a werewolf.

Although I find myself averting my eyes when I walk by, their celebration of darkness has set me down a path of considering how society at large celebrates darkness — the abortion and trans issues being just two on the long list of ideologies poisoning the West.

When October passes and the plastic monsters and tombstones are banished to dusty attics until next year, the darkness they represent will remain, and it will continue to erode society.

I wonder if the evil associated with Halloween, which many Christians rightfully avoid, might actually present an opportunity for us to consider how darkness — vampires and bloodlust, werewolves and shapeshifting — doesn’t ever go away. It merely puts on a new mask.

Kids can't draw scary faces



My kids love to draw. They are always setting up shop at the kitchen table. Commandeering the place we eat for their own artistic creations.

Some days it feels like the floor is permanently littered with colored pencils and markers. Every night when the whole family cleans the house after dinner, we always discover some stragglers.

The other day, our son accidentally whacked his sister in the face when they were playing outside. She cried pretty bad. He’s such a good kid, he didn’t mean to.

An orange pencil under the piano. A green crayon at the bottom of the laundry. A blue marker in the bathroom. How the hell did a marker get in the bathroom? Oh, someone drew on the wall.

Ferocious beasts

The kids draw all sorts of things. Cars, trucks, animals, people, our family. They also try to draw scary pictures. They draw monsters. They draw ferocious beasts with big claws. But they can’t draw scary faces. They don’t shake me. They don’t send a shiver up my spine or make me want to look away. They make me smile in a terribly sad way.

Kids just can’t draw scary faces. And why is that? They try and try, but they can’t. A vampire with a little fang hanging out of his mouth. The other side of his lips curl up in a little smile. His eyes are a little misshapen and asymmetrical. His face is soft and funny. Kind and cute. It was the scariest thing my son could draw, and it wasn’t scary at all.

He excitedly shows us his drawing, and we pretend to be scared. “Ooohhh that is scary! A vampire!” But we aren’t scared. I feel that lump in my throat. It’s a rush of confusing feelings that all come at the same time, and I can’t explain any of them. And truthfully, I don’t want to either. This boiling hot ball of feeling makes me feel so good and so bad. I am so happy and so sad.

A very long time

Kids can’t draw scary faces because they haven’t seen scary things. They haven’t seen a scary world. They are innocent. They are pure. They live in the world that we create for them. We protect them. We don’t tell them scary things, and we don’t show them scary movies. When they ask when we are going to die, we tell them that we aren’t going to die for a very long time and that they don’t have to worry about that.

Their world is sweet and kind. Simple. Even when they are mad, they don’t know how mad you can really be. The knob goes all the way up to 10, but they think it only goes to 3.

'Even when I'm old'

The other day, our son accidentally whacked his sister in the face when they were playing outside. She cried pretty bad. He’s such a good kid, he didn’t mean to. He said that he’s never going to forget it. “Even when I’m old, I’m going to remember it,” he said.

They read old books and old fairy tales. There are scary drawings of witches and giants. My son is currently obsessed with dragons. He has this red toy dragon that he loves. It looks pretty fierce. It has a split tongue that sticks out through razor sharp teeth.

But still, he can’t translate that onto paper. He can’t draw a scary face. They are always cute. They are always happy. The world as he feels it betrays what he aims to draw.

We can’t be someone we are not. We can’t feel something we don’t know. They can’t draw scary faces because they don’t know them. They don’t feel them. They aren’t them. They are innocent. They are small. They are sweet.

We, on the other hand, are sullied. We are corrupted. We are conniving. We are ugly and hateful. We are liars and cheats. Children remind us that we are not, in fact, good. It’s easy for me to draw a scary face. Just give me a pencil.

Layer after layer

We hang all their pictures around the kitchen. We have a line of string lights that run from one wall to another. We hang them up there. My God, there are so many dangling, barely holding on under the weak pressure of these little micro-clothespins. We keep adding to our collection every day. They keep bringing them to us. Layer after layer on top of one another.

The world is tragic. Things go so wrong. Why do they have to go so wrong? I don’t know. But when I see those little drawings, I smile somewhere inside. Their little hands drew those little faces. They try so hard to make them scary. But they can’t, and it’s adorable, and I love them for it.

I stare at them, and I think of how different I am than they are. How much worse I am. And, of course, they make me so sad because they aren’t going to be innocent forever. They will eventually grow up and see a scary world, and they will know how to draw scary faces.

Enemy at the Gates | 11/6/23

Enemy at the Gates | 11/6/23

NPR runs pro-witchcraft piece – The occult today is 'as trendy and as helpful as veganism or yoga'



“This may surprise you,” says Glenn Beck sarcastically, but “witches are real” and they’re “liberal politically.”

NPR recently ran what Glenn calls “a fluff piece” on witches and the religion of witchcraft.

“Witches have long cast a spell on American entertainment, but they aren’t just a figment of our imagination. Witchcraft is a real practice, and people who practice witchcraft are all around you,” the NPR segment began.

The show goes on to interview American writer Diana Helmuth, who devoted a year of her life to exploring witchcraft.

It was “month seven before I tried to make a connection with the goddess,” whether she is “a real deity up in the sky” or “a metaphor for the interconnectedness of everything on Earth,” Helmuth explained.

“So I go and I set up this ritual to try and talk to a particular goddess,” and after “sitting in front of an altar that I made” for “about an hour, something happened – I just suddenly felt flooded with bliss,” she recounted.

“My initial reaction to this NPR story was a little eye-rolling,” admits Glenn. “Of course, NPR is on the side with witches.”

However, it’s also quite scary. “There are supposedly, according to NPR, more witches than Presbyterians,” says Glenn, and “USA Today claims … that ‘hip witchcraft’ is on the rise in the U.S.”

“You’ll find articles on witchcraft all throughout the liberal media,” says Glenn, but unlike the past, when people knew terms like "the occult" meant bad news, today’s society seems to be fascinated with the world of witchcraft.

It shouldn’t surprise you to find out that people who practice witchcraft usually run in the woke crowd.

“Witchcraft is especially popular among … transgender activists,” says Glenn, citing an academic article. He quotes:

‘Contemporary paganism portrays gender in an array of different ways and, as such, is very inclusive of sexual diversity. Much of this phenomena happens through what pagans call witchcraft. But how does witchcraft help queer and transgender pagans take part in the pagan community?”

“I looked it up,” says Glenn, and according to online sources, “witchcraft [is] an inclusive movement,” which “is seeing a resurgence among queer-identified young people seeking a powerful identity that celebrates the freedom to choose who you are.”

“Here’s what unites all of them – witches, leftists, transgender activists, NPR, the liberal media,” explains Glenn. They’re “fighting for relevance … they pester, they annoy, they shock or try to shock, in a bid to get attention,” but they “lose their power when people stop watching them or stop caring.”


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FACT CHECK: Spirit Halloween 9/11-Themed Costume Is Satirical, Not Genuine

No such costume exists

This Halloween, let's remember our dead



Jim Carroll's minor 1980 hit “People Who Died" is a song about grief, but you probably wouldn't play it at a funeral. It's too upbeat and danceable, and its unadorned listing of Carroll's departed friends and their grim endings (falling off a roof after sniffing glue, “26 reds and a bottle of wine,” childhood leukemia) doesn't offer much in the way of solace or meaning beyond the refrain “they were all my friends, and they died.”

Still, there's something moving about just hearing their names. It could be a prayer; Carroll's Catholic upbringing surely meant he was familiar with the Catholic Church's tradition of praying for the dead. It’s a tradition closely associated with Halloween, which marks the evening before All Saints' Day (November 1) and All Souls' Day (November 2).

We are all People Who Die, of course. In recent years, various gurus and influencers have rediscovered the time-honored practice of memento mori and repackaged it as a kind of for-profit self-help trick. Remembering the deaths of others is not as easily monetizable. Whether or not you consider such prayers efficacious (we do), it's a worthwhile exercise to make a list like Carroll’s. The more recent entries may be painfully fresh; others you may not have thought of in years.

Today, for no special reason, we're thinking of Faith, a high school friend who died almost two and a half years ago. Her cheerful, loquacious letters helped us through that first lonely, self-absorbed year of college. We took them for granted then (did we even write back?). When we heard she was dying, we finally sent her a proper letter of our own. Her response came via email, with an instantly recognizable warmth and wit. Somehow she said everything there was to say between us in a little over 500 words; three days later she was gone.

After years of poor health and dwindling fame, Jim Carroll died a death as lonely and anonymous as the friends in his song, felled at his desk by a heart attack while working on his decades-in-the-making “comeback” novel. Well, none of us are long for this world. Maybe remembering others is the best hope we have of being remembered in turn.

Dem governor slams school district in his state for banning Halloween events to promote diversity, equity, and inclusion



New Jersey Gov. Phil Murphy (D) mocked a Garden State school district on Tuesday for forbidding Halloween celebrations to promote diversity, equity, and inclusion.

On Oct. 6, Dr. Ronald G. Taylor, superintendent of the South Orange-Maplewood School District, informed parents that Halloween celebrations at schools would not take place this year.

The reasoning? Taylor suggested in a letter to parents that school-sponsored Halloween activities could create "indirect and unintentional financial hardships for students and families," could "violate the dignity of some of our students and families, either culturally or religiously," and may run afoul of the district's DEI commitment.

"As you know, [SOMSD] is committed to promoting diversity, equity, and inclusion meaningfully — not just saying the words but also promoting an inclusive school community that creates belonging for all students, families, and staff," Taylor wrote in the letter.

In another letter, the district's assistant superintendent of access and equity, Dr. Kevin Gilbert, explained why the decision was allegedly necessary. Gilbert said:

All of us realize that this breaks with what the District has usually done, and that can be a difficult thing to do sometimes. Often, working to instill greater equity in our district begins with recognizing that we cannot do what we have always done. But with this decision, we are taking a step closer to upholding our community’s access and equity values.

The decision to forbid Halloween events and costumes at school went too far for even Murphy, who is by all accounts a progressive Democrat.

"Seriously? We can't let kids celebrate Halloween? Give me a break," he reacted.

— (@)

In statements to media outlets, the school district has emphasized that officials did not cancel Halloween celebrations per se but banned school-sponsored Halloween events from taking place during school hours.

SOMSD schools can partner with outside organizations to host Halloween events outside of school hours.

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