Wildfire smoke has again spread across large swaths of the United States, some of it settling into our Montana valley.

As I watch it drift across the landscape, I have questions.

Until climate activists learn proportion, humility, and a willingness to live under the rules they prescribe for everyone else, let the cows fart in their general direction.

For most of my adult life, I have heard that cattle are harming the climate. The public warning is often reduced to a crude slogan: Cow flatulence is destroying the planet.

Cattle actually release far more methane by belching than by farting. That distinction is easily missed by people who lecture ranchers about animals they have never raised.

Some of those lecturers also live on a scale few ranchers could imagine.

One billionaire owns a home in this region whose construction consumed enormous quantities of timber, stone, concrete, copper, fuel, heavy equipment, transportation, and energy. And that was before anyone heated, cooled, maintained, or traveled to it.

He is free to build it. His lectures about someone else’s cattle still deserve scrutiny.

This is not an argument against climate science. Cattle produce methane. Human activity affects the environment. Clean air, healthy soil, responsible forestry, and wise stewardship all deserve serious attention.

So do perspective, proportion, and credibility.

Our family partners with local ranchers to graze cattle on our property. They evaluate the grass, moisture, acreage, herd size, grazing time, and recovery period. They know which pasture can carry cattle and which one needs rest.

Responsible grazing reduces excess vegetation while improving grass for cattle and wildlife.

We have also logged portions of the property, removing unhealthy and overcrowded trees. We cannot prevent lightning or command the weather. Wildfires will happen. Thoughtful grazing, logging, and forest management can still reduce fuel and risk.

That is good old-fashioned stewardship.

Protecting land does not always mean leaving it untouched. Sometimes it means tending what has been entrusted to us. That principle ought to provide common ground rather than another excuse for a climate battle.

People with dirt under their fingernails rarely spend much time posting about sustainability. They are too busy practicing it. Their environmentalism is not a brand. It is a responsibility.

RELATED: How one lowered flag carried me home

Peter Rosenberger

The land corrects arrogance. Rain may not come. Winter may arrive early. One careless decision can damage a pasture for years.

Farmers and ranchers understand stewardship because their livelihoods, families, and futures depend on it. They have skin in the game.

Cattle do not recognize Christmas, birthdays, or weekends. They require attention every day.

Yet ranchers must stop that work to gather records, attend hearings, answer regulators, call attorneys, and explain livestock to people who have never raised an animal, repaired a fence in January, or waited anxiously for rain.

Every hour spent defending ranching is an hour not spent ranching.

The activist loses nothing by being wrong. The bureaucrat still gets paid. The rancher loses time, money, and sometimes the ability to pass the operation to the next generation.

The absurdity does more than insult the people producing our food. It interrupts them.

I watch smoke from fires whose damage might have been reduced through better stewardship. I watch other nations operate under standards American producers would never be allowed to ignore. Then I hear wealthy climate voices lambaste farmers and ranchers who must dip into thin profits to defend themselves against well-funded organizations that bear few consequences for bad policy.

Those critics do not wake before dawn to tend livestock or land.

A third-generation rancher will naturally hesitate to take livestock advice from someone lecturing on TikTok from Starbucks.

Agriculture has an environmental footprint, as does nearly everything required to sustain human life.

Yet when wildfires send smoke across a continent and major industrial nations emit pollution on a scale no Montana rancher could approach, the cow somehow remains a favorite villain.

Perhaps ranchers make convenient targets because they are nearby. They pay taxes, keep records, answer regulators, and obey the law. They are much easier to pressure than foreign governments or wealthy climate evangelists whose lifestyles make their sermons difficult to take seriously.

America’s ranchers may be easier to regulate than the Chinese Communist Party. That does not make them the greater threat.

RELATED: Consider the lilies — and one old Montana fir

Peter Rosenberger

The double standard is not confined to policy. The people demanding sacrifice from everyone else often embody it.

None of this disproves climate science. It reveals something about conviction.

If you insist the theater is on fire while buying a penthouse above the stage, the audience may wonder whether you believe your own warning.

Hypocrisy destroys moral authority.

If the threat is global, apply the standards globally. If sacrifice is urgent, those demanding it should go first. If sustainability matters, listen to the people who have spent generations sustaining land, livestock, families, and communities.

Regulating American production out of existence does not make the world cleaner when the same goods are produced elsewhere under weaker standards and shipped back across an ocean.

That is outsourcing with a halo.

Ranchers are not asking to escape responsibility. They are asking not to be treated as environmental criminals by people who share neither their experience nor their consequences.

Perhaps, for once, we need more consistency and less cowbell.

Until climate activists learn proportion, humility, and a willingness to live under the rules they prescribe for everyone else, let the cows fart in their general direction.

​Climate science, Wildfires, Cows, Global warming, Canada, Ranchers, Environmentalism, Caregivers, Opinion & analysis 

The 2026 World Cup was initially about soccer for Scottish travelers, but it very quickly became about beer.

During the historic tournament, the Scots used Boston as their home base, where they became known for showing up at different events in droves, singing and drinking.

‘Do they ever sleep? Do they ever get tired?’

Whether it was Fenway Park or the local pub, the Scottish fans drank multiple establishments dry. One example was the Black Rose, where a local fan remarked that the bar had never gone dry in its 50-year history. With the Scottish travelers around, however, the venue ran out of drinks “including water” for the first time.

Scotland played two out of its three World Cup games at Gillette Stadium in Foxborough, Massachusetts: a 1-0 win against Haiti and a 1-0 loss to Morocco.

During that time, the fans known as the Tartan Army — which refers to the tartan pattern, aka plaid — fell in love with one particular American staple native to the area: Samuel Adams.

In particular, the Scots loved Samuel Adams Boston Lager so much that the brewery pub ran out.

The company told ABC News in June that its flagship taproom went dry after the Tartan Army drank four times what is typically sold, all during Scotland’s first game.

“Do they ever sleep? Do they ever get tired?” one employee asked. This spawned an “emergency order” to prepare for the next game, and the rest is history.

Now, the new favorite is officially available in Scotland for fans to (responsibly) pound on their home turf.

RELATED: Belgian soccer players mock Trump after absolute rout of Team USA in World Cup

Plaid-ing out

U.K.-based online craft beer retailer Beerhunter is now officially carrying Samuel Adams Boston Lager on its website.

As an import, it’s obviously going to cost a few quid, currently listed on sale for £49.46 (~$56) for a 12-pack, down from its usual price of £54.95 (~$62).

“Samuel Adams Boston Lager became part of Scotland’s World Cup story this summer,” Ryan Smith, director of Beerhunter, told Scottish outlet the Herald.

“We saw incredible interest after the Tartan Army made headlines in Boston, and we’ve had customers asking us ever since when it would be available in the U.K. again,” Smith continued.

Smith said he was delighted to bring the beer back to Scotland while praising its tradition. The beer had become scarce in Scotland somewhere between 2023 and 2024.

“It’s an iconic American lager with a fantastic brewing heritage, and we think Scottish fans will enjoy raising another glass to some unforgettable memories.”

RELATED: Jasmine Crockett suggests anyone who was rooting for Argentina at the World Cup is racist

Taylor Coester/Washington Post/Getty Images

A hoppy revolution

Of course, it cannot be glossed over how Samuel Adams himself was a British citizen who fell in love with the idea of the United States.

According to his biography, Adams often cited the Magna Carta of 1215 as a reason to protest British rule over Massachusetts. Barons in England had faced resistance for their taxation, and Adams found Boston’s struggles against taxes “all too familiar.”

Adams founded the Sons of Liberty, a paramilitary political organization that coined the phrase “No taxation without representation.”

While Adams and taxation may have been part of what separated the British and the Americans at one time, the beer that bears Adams’ name is seemingly what has brought them back together — at least the Scottish portion of them.

Beerhunter also lists Samuel Adams American Cherry Wheat Beer, Summer Ale, and the Beers of Summer variety pack on its website.

Like Blaze News? Bypass the censors, sign up for our newsletters, and get stories like this direct to your inbox. Sign up here!

​Beer, Boston, Massachusetts, News, Sam adams, Scotland, World cup 2026, Lifestyle 

The fall of the angel Lucifer is a story that oftentimes doesn’t get a lot of attention, as many Christians tend to focus on how the devil plagues humanity today.

But how did Lucifer become the devil? What did that devolution look like, and when did sin really begin?

On this episode of “Strange Encounters,” BlazeTV host Rick Burgess sits down with Pastor Mac Brunson to dive into the origin story of the cosmos’ greatest enemy.

“Somewhere in eternity past before God created the heavens and the earth, He created what we call, or what Scripture calls, angels,” Brunson says, noting the different varieties of angelic beings, including seraphim, cherubim, Michael the archangel, and messenger angels like Gabriel.

Lucifer, he notes, was none of these, however. “Created above all the others,” his name means “light-bearer,” and he was “far more beautiful” than the others.

Rick argues that God, despite being all-knowing, “is not afraid of choices” and allowed the angels to make their own.

“He certainly gave angels intelligence; he gave them personality. They each have a name. … They also have the ability to communicate, not only to communicate with man … [but also] with each other,” Brunson adds, highlighting the individuality and agency of angelic beings.

Lucificer was no different. Free to make his own choices, he rebelled against God.

Brunson, reading from Isaiah 14, recounts Lucifer’s evil desire to “ascend to heaven,” “raise [his] throne above the stars of God,” “sit on the mount of assembly,” “ascend above the heights of the clouds,” and “make [himself] like the Most High.”

“And he makes that choice, and Revelation tells us that a third of the angels went along with him, and, of course, they were cast out of heaven,” he says.

“So sin did not begin on earth; it began in heaven? That’s why Jesus says we’re going to have a new heaven and a new earth?” Rick asks.

“That’s exactly right,” Brunson says, noting that “evil begins with this creature [Lucifer].”

But his power always has and always will pale in comparison to God’s.

“He’s a problem for us, but —” Rick says.

“He’s not a problem for God,” Brunson concludes.

To hear more of the theological deep dive into the origins of heaven and Satan, watch the episode above.

Want more from Rick Burgess?

To enjoy more bold talk and big laughs, subscribe to BlazeTV — the largest multi-platform network of voices who love America, defend the Constitution, and live the American dream.

​Rick burgess, Spiritual warfare, Christianity, Satan, Angels, Demons, Blazetv show 

For decades, a familiar story has shaped Christian family life. It involves Sunday morning in the pews. A week at Bible camp each summer. Wednesday night youth group with pizza and a lesson. Parents pour real love and intention into these routines.

Noble as the effort is, a recent study published in the Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion suggests they are only part of the picture. Researchers analyzed data from more than 16,000 Christians nationwide, comparing childhood religious experiences with adult outcomes. Church attendance mattered. So did stable families. But the strongest predictor of lasting adult faith asked nothing extraordinary of parents.

I walked away from the faith with the kind of cocky certainty God seems to install in everyone between the ages of 13 and 19.

It was simply this: They talked to their children about God.

Homilies at home

That finding immediately took me back to my own childhood.

The first picture that comes to mind isn’t a sanctuary or a stained-glass window, but the front seat of the car on the way home from school. The back yard, where my father pulled weeds like the yard had personally offended him. The living room at 10:30 on a school night, all of us long past bedtime and pretending the clock didn’t exist. My grandmother, with a cup of tea that was always either too hot or somehow already cold, telling me about the importance of the Bible.

Those conversations are the reason I still believe.

My parents were, and still are, very decent people. For many years, they were overworked and underpaid in the way most ordinary families know all too well. Bills on the counter. Shifts that ran long. Sleep that ran short. Children who treated the front seat like contested real estate.

And yet they always found the energy to talk to me about Christianity — not in a recited, hands-folded-in-our-laps sort of way, but as if God were actually in the room.

We talked about how Christianity shaped the West. The fall of Rome. Forgiveness, suffering, and why Christians built the first hospitals while emperors were busy building coliseums to watch people die in. We talked about why the values modern secular society treats as self-evident — human dignity, charity, and mercy toward strangers — didn’t fall from the sky. They grew slowly out of Christian soil, across centuries of tending.

What my parents said at home stayed with me longer than any sermon. Ask around, and plenty of people will say the same.

Half-cocked heretic

I was a rebellious teenager, and I rebelled with real enthusiasm. I walked away from the faith with the kind of cocky certainty God seems to install in everyone between the ages of 13 and 19, presumably as a test of parental patience. Christianity struck me as restrictive and embarrassing. I mistook cynicism for intelligence — a standard rookie mistake among precocious teenagers. I got good grades and assumed an A in English qualified me to dismiss theology, philosophy, and 2,000 years of Christian thought.

And yet, even at my wildest and most stubborn, even when I was giving the New Atheists more attention than they ever deserved, something my parents had planted refused to be dug up.

I expected my mother to lose her mind during a particularly insufferable phase of all this. Instead, she sat me down and spoke to me like an adult. No yelling. No guilt-tripping. No dragging me back to church by the collar or, as Irish mothers sometimes prefer, the ear.

RELATED: The Ireland I grew up in is gone

SOPA Images/Getty Images

Talking it out

Instead, she calmly walked me through the contradictions in the worldview I had been presenting to my friends. She pointed out, without raising her voice, where ego had been doing my thinking for me. And then, with the patience of a woman who had already won the argument before it started, she explained why atheism was a fool’s errand.

That was the moment I rediscovered the faith. Fifteen years on, I have never looked back.

That is exactly what the new study captures. Faith transmission is relational before it is institutional. Children remember whether their parents actually believed the things they claimed to believe, or whether church was just another Sunday errand sandwiched between a leisurely breakfast and a last-minute homework check.

A kid can sit in a pew every week of childhood and still walk away convinced that religion is little more than an incredibly polite social club. Conversation breaks that spell. Conversation forces engagement. Questions surface. Doubts get aired. Faith becomes something a young person can actually argue with, wrestle against, and eventually own.

​Christianity, Family, Faith, Raising children, Church, Sunday school, Parenthood, Lifestyle, Culture 

“Have you ever been to the U.S.-Mexico border?”

“No.”

One word. That may have been the most revealing moment of New York City Democratic Mayor Zohran Mamdani’s recent interview with the New York Times.

Sanctuary policies are easy to defend from a podium at New York City Hall. They are much harder to defend before communities that have already paid the price.

Mamdani defended his city’s sanctuary policies, which he reinforced after taking office by signing an executive order reaffirming them.

The problem is not so much that Mamdani has never visited the border. It is that he seems unwilling to understand why communities that lived through the border crisis reached a very different conclusion.

That lesson is visible far beyond the Rio Grande.

Consider Goliad County in South Texas. The rural county has about 7,000 residents and sits roughly 160 miles from the U.S.-Mexico border.

Testifying before the Senate Judiciary Committee last year, Sheriff Roy Boyd described how the crisis transformed the community he serves.

Boyd’s office averaged 77 arrests a year during the five years before 2021. From 2021 through 2024, that average jumped to 413. Deputies discovered 16 cartel stash houses, and pursuits involving suspected human smugglers became routine.

Residents began hearing voices and movement on remote properties after dark. Many no longer felt safe alone in their own homes.

Those facts expose what Mamdani’s answer overlooks. The border crisis did not remain at the border. Cartel activity and illegal immigration reached inland communities that lacked the personnel and equipment to confront them. Former Border Patrol agent and Texas Public Policy Foundation senior fellow Ammon Blair calls cartels “hybrid threats.”

As Blair puts it, “Cartels don’t just smuggle. They destabilize.” Boyd has described them as “contractors and subcontractors” in a network moving migrants and drugs from the border into Texas’ largest cities.

That reality changed Texas’ response. In 2021, as illegal crossings surged under President Joe Biden, Goliad became one of the first inland counties to declare a local disaster. Boyd suggested giving local law-enforcement agencies flexible grants for overtime, new officers, patrol vehicles, and other equipment.

Those grants became part of Operation Lone Star.

According to Texas Republican Gov. Greg Abbott’s office, Operation Lone Star has produced more than 535,700 apprehensions and referrals, 57,400 criminal arrests, and 47,500 felony charges. Texas law enforcement has also intercepted more than 779 million lethal doses of fentanyl.

RELATED: The revolution will not be televised — it will be livestreamed in 4K

Andrew Lichtenstein/Corbis/Getty Images

Boyd later launched the Operation Lone Star Task Force, which allows local agencies to share deputies, intelligence, and resources across jurisdictional lines while targeting human smuggling, cartel activity, and organized crime.

New York has felt the downstream effects too. Former Mayor Eric Adams warned that the migrant crisis would “destroy New York City.” Mamdani nevertheless continues to defend sanctuary policies that impede cooperation with federal immigration authorities.

Goliad’s experience carries a national lesson. Criminal organizations do not recognize state boundaries. The same networks that move people across the border traffic drugs, weapons, and money into communities nationwide. They exploit ports of entry, the northern border, and weaknesses far from either frontier.

The farther those networks spread, the more Americans discover that border security is not someone else’s problem.

Mamdani may be proud of New York City’s sanctuary stance.

His one-word answer showed more than where he has never been. It revealed what he refuses to see.

Sanctuary policies are easy to defend from a podium at city hall. They are much harder to defend before communities that have already paid the price.

​Illegal immigration, New york city, Texas, Fentanyl, Zohran mamdani, Sanctuary cities, Crime, Opinion & analysis 

Social media’s magicians spent decades perfecting the art of slicing human attention into advertising revenue. Is the next step on the corporate road map farming human tissue for spare parts?

The tech is there, or almost there. The ideas have percolated for decades. All it takes, it seems, is the will.

The concept of individual self-ownership becomes entirely obsolete.

An early pitch deck for R3 Bio, a quiet biotech startup operating out of California, laid out a vision that makes classic horror fiction look rather mild. The company’s leadership, reports suggest, engaged in internal discussions regarding the production of brainless, nonsentient human bodies designed for the explicit purpose of organ harvesting, pharmaceutical testing, and eventual commercial deployment.

They christened these biological monstrosities “organ sacks.”

The terminology speaks volumes to the moral framework seizing imaginations in the contemporary tech executive class. When a team of researchers and engineers looks at the human form and sees an inconveniently conscious container for marketable kidneys, the line between medical innovation and factory farming disappears completely.

Executives at R3 Bio floated plans to reprogram monkey cells, cultivate complete organ systems, and engineer these living biological constructs to be intentionally primitive enough to bypass federal ethical guidelines.

But this isn’t some sudden Silicon Valley obsession. The ambition to redesign human biology has been gathering momentum worldwide for years.

They have a dream

In October 2022, biotech investors gathered in Zurich to debate the commercial viability of synthetic biology, openly celebrating the day human biology would be fully decoupled from traditional ideas of personhood. The attendees viewed the human body as an inefficient piece of legacy software requiring a total architectural overhaul. It was only a matter of time before the idea caught on.

Scientists at R3 Bio defended their research behind the usual wall of righteous PR speak, insisting their work aims to end the chronic shortage of donor organs and cure terminal illnesses. They publicly insist that full-scale human organ fabrication remains outside their current operational scope and that their public website reflects a commitment to safe, traditional cell therapy.

But the problem runs deeper than what R3 Bio says it is or isn’t doing today. It’s what history tells us can happen when scientific ambition outruns consent, oversight, and basic human dignity.

The playbook never changes. In 1951, researchers extracted cancer cells from Henrietta Lacks without her knowledge or consent, creating the HeLa cell line that generated billions in profit for pharmaceutical giants while her family struggled to pay medical bills. The medical establishment transformed a living human being into a self-sustaining corporate product, establishing a precedent that today’s biotech firms are eager to scale up to the entire human torso. There is an enormous amount of money to be made. And where the fevered dreams of high-tech immortality are concerned, human morality has a troubling habit of turning negotiable.

RELATED: Anti-aging mogul’s next act? He’ll harvest organs from his own clone

L-R: Bridget Bennett/Bloomberg/Getty Images; Aldara Zarraoa/Getty Images

A society grounded in the belief that human life possesses inherent dignity treats the human body as an inherently sacred structure rather than a machine assembled from interchangeable parts. The secular technocracy reigning in Northern California views the human body as a collection of meat components that can be optimized, monetized, and swapped out.

Death of the self

The transition from healing the sick to manufacturing customized human vessels happened while everyone was distracted by social media algorithms. Engineers want to replace a failing heart, grow an artificial liver in a vat, construct a brainless body to house the spares, and call the whole process market efficiency. The language of human medicine was completely swallowed by the inhumane jargon of auto repair.

This mechanistic worldview demands that every biological boundary be erased in the name of efficiency and infinite growth. If a brainless body exists as a legal product, the entity owning the patent exercises total property rights over a human biological shell. If a corporation can copyright the genetic sequence of a custom-grown torso, the concept of individual self-ownership becomes entirely obsolete.

Tech elites frequently talk about death as a minor coding error awaiting a software upgrade. They invest billions in longevity protocols, upload schemes, and cellular rejuvenation, completely convinced that their wealth entitles them to bypass mortality itself. They view the average citizen as a temporary user of biological material that will eventually be recycled into the supply chain.

When a society permits a handful of unaccountable individuals to determine what constitutes a real human being, we have entered troubling territory. Will the directors sitting on biotech boards inevitably declare themselves the rightful managers of the human species, reserving complete bodies for themselves while the rest of the population functions as the raw resource pool?

That may sound absurd. So did the idea that machines would one day run businesses, create music, and think well enough to replace the people who created them. Now, the same people who gave us artificial intelligence want to start redesigning natural intelligence.

The men running these laboratories will continue pushing the boundaries of biological desecration until explicit, uncompromising legal barriers stop them. They operate with the supreme confidence of individuals who believe they are God’s gifts to science, entirely blind to the horrifying reality of what they are creating.

Who asked America’s biotech heavyweights to play God? Not the average American, that’s for sure.

Nobody held a referendum on whether human beings should be redesigned, disassembled, and rebuilt by private companies with billions of dollars and almost no public accountability. But they’re not waiting for permission.

​Biotech danger, Tech 

Many Christians avoid reading texts like the Quran or the Book of Mormon altogether, fearing they could be led astray.

However, BlazeTV host Allie Beth Stuckey argues that understanding what other religions actually teach can be valuable — if it’s done carefully.

“I don’t think it’s wrong to read the Quran or the Book of Mormon as a Christian to try to really understand like a primary source for what these people believe,” Stuckey explains, though she notes that she “wouldn’t do it alone” and “wouldn’t do it without your Bible.”

“I wouldn’t do it without supplemental resources from Christians who really have studied and understood these texts because I think it would be easy in the Book of Mormon to be like, ‘Oh yeah, well, you know, that kind of makes sense,’ but … we have to be comparing it to the word of God to make sure that everything totally aligns,” she says.

Looking into scholars who have “done a lot of work, understand the historical context,” and “have cross-referenced these texts” would be essential for anyone determined to understand other religious texts.

“So, I don’t know necessarily that you have to go to the primary source to understand their perspective,” she says.

Rather, “do so in community, do so with the leadership and mentorship of other mature Christians.”

“Do so alongside your Bible. I think if you do all of those things prayerfully, then it can be OK,” she continues.

Want more from Allie Beth Stuckey?

To enjoy more of Allie’s upbeat and in-depth coverage of culture, news, and theology from a Christian, conservative perspective, subscribe to BlazeTV — the largest multi-platform network of voices who love America, defend the Constitution, and live the American dream.

​Allie beth stuckey, Book of mormon, Christians, Quran, Relatable