Brigitte Bardot, the dazzling French actress who redefined sensuality on the silver screen, has left us at 91, marking the end of an era that shaped cinema and culture, NPR reported.
Her passing was confirmed by her animal rights foundation in a statement to Agence France-Presse on a Sunday, though details of time and location remain undisclosed.
Born in 1934 to a well-to-do Parisian family, Bardot grew up Catholic, trained in ballet, and soon caught the public eye as a teenage model gracing Elle magazine covers.
At 18, she wed Roger Vadim, an aspiring director six years her senior, who molded her into a global icon of allure after her parents insisted on the wait.
In Vadim’s 1957 film "And God Created Woman," Bardot stunned audiences with a bold portrayal of sexual freedom, a role that both captivated and scandalized.
While The New York Times critiqued the film harshly, they couldn’t deny her magnetism, noting she “moves herself in a fashion that fully accentuates her charms.”
Through the 1950s and ‘60s, Bardot’s influence soared, her provocative style inspiring women worldwide to mimic her hair, makeup, and signature pout.
She collaborated with cinematic giants like Jean-Luc Godard in "Le Mépris" and Louis Malle in "Viva Maria!," though critics often fixated on her beauty over her craft.
Simone de Beauvoir captured this duality in a 1959 Esquire essay, writing, “In the game of love, she is as much hunter as she is prey,” a line that hints at Bardot’s commanding yet vulnerable persona.
Yet fame took a toll; relentlessly hounded by paparazzi, Bardot battled depression and even attempted suicide, later revealing how the spotlight gnawed at her soul.
Retiring in 1973 after a prolific career in dozens of films, she turned her passion to animal rights, founding a foundation to champion her cause.
Her later years near Saint-Tropez, alongside fourth husband Bernard d’Ormale and numerous pets, shifted focus from stardom to activism, though not without controversy.
Post-retirement, Bardot’s outspokenness drew ire, with multiple convictions in France for inciting racial hatred over comments on immigration and cultural practices.
Her 2003 book "Un Cri dans le Silence" criticized various societal shifts and groups, while her ties to far-right politics through d’Ormale, an aide to National Front founder Jean-Marie Le Pen, raised eyebrows.
Though she apologized in court in 2004, she doubled down on concerns about cultural changes, leaving a legacy as complex as her screen roles—a champion of freedom who, as scholar Ginette Vincendeau noted, seemed to resent others exercising it.
Bryce Reeves, a stalwart conservative voice, has just pulled the plug on his U.S. Senate bid in Virginia.
In a surprising turn, Reeves announced on social media this past Sunday that he’s stepping away from the race to unseat Democratic incumbent Sen. Mark Warner, leaving Republicans scrambling for a strong contender, according to Politico.
Reeves, a 58-year-old state senator who’s been representing Virginia’s 28th District since 2012, first threw his hat into the U.S. Senate ring back in September.
With a campaign built on his military and law enforcement credentials, he seemed poised to give Warner a run for his money.
But life, as it often does, threw a curveball, with Reeves citing a “serious family health matter” and poor timing as reasons for his withdrawal.
He’s not walking away from politics entirely, though—he plans to seek reelection to his state Senate seat in 2027.
“I remain fully committed to serving the citizens of Virginia’s 28th Senatorial District and look forward to seeking re-election to my Senate seat in 2027,” Reeves stated.
That’s all well and good, but let’s be real—his exit stings for conservatives who saw him as a principled fighter against the progressive tide in Washington.
Reeves also took a moment to address the broader Republican struggle, pointing to the disappointing results of the recent November elections.
“This past election was devastating for Republicans across our Commonwealth. We must stop the infighting, regroup, and unite behind principled leadership worthy of our cause,” he urged.
Spot on, Senator—nothing undermines a movement faster than squabbling while the left pushes its agenda unchecked; it’s time for the GOP to get its act together.
With Reeves out, the field now includes Democrat Jason Reynolds and Republican Kim Farrington, alongside the entrenched three-term incumbent, Mark Warner.
Warner, a fixture in Virginia politics, isn’t likely to face an easy challenge, but without a heavyweight like Reeves, Republicans might be grasping at straws.
Still, Reeves made it clear this isn’t about disappointment but about values, emphasizing that family trumps political ambition every time.
His gratitude to supporters shone through as well, reminding everyone that politics, at its best, is a team sport built on shared conviction, not just personal glory.
Could a school really keep a parent in the dark about something as life-changing as a child’s gender transition?
In a case stirring national debate, Amber Lavigne, a Maine mother, is asking the U.S. Supreme Court to step in after alleging that Great Salt Bay Community School advised her 13-year-old daughter on gender transitioning without her knowledge, while Maine itself grapples with separate controversies over school policies and federal funding tied to male participation in female sports.
Lavigne’s fight began when she discovered a chest binder among her daughter’s belongings, only to learn it was provided by a school social worker, Just the News reported.
This wasn’t just a piece of clothing—it was part of a broader effort, Lavigne claims, where the social worker encouraged her daughter to adopt a different name and pronouns without a whisper to her as the parent.
When Lavigne confronted the principal and superintendent, she was met with justifications rather than apologies, a stance that only fueled her resolve.
Since filing her lawsuit in 2023, Lavigne has faced setbacks, with a federal judge in Maine dismissing her case and the First U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in Boston upholding that decision in July.
Now, backed by the Arizona-based Goldwater Institute, Lavigne is taking her battle to the highest court, hoping for a ruling that could set a precedent on parental notification rights.
The petition argues for clear, nationwide guidance on school policies regarding gender identity, insisting that parents have a constitutional right to be informed about such significant decisions.
“We are asking the Supreme Court to step in and make it clear that parents like Amber have a right to know when public school officials make important decisions affecting the mental health and physical wellbeing of their children,” said Adam Shelton, a Goldwater Institute attorney.
Let’s unpack that quote—schools making unilateral calls on a child’s mental and physical health without parental input feels like a dangerous overreach, though one must sympathize with educators navigating these sensitive waters.
Amber Lavigne herself put it poignantly: “This situation is really about my parental rights being violated.”
She continued, “It’s about a social worker who had never even had a conversation with me encouraging my child to keep secrets from me. Our goal as parents is to raise amazing human beings who contribute to society, who care about other human beings, and to be left out of such a life altering decision just doesn’t make sense.”
While Lavigne’s case focuses on parental rights, Maine is also a battleground for debates over allowing male athletes in female sports, with Governor Janet Mills clashing with federal directives under President Donald Trump’s executive order aimed at restricting such participation.
The U.S. Education Department has sued Maine’s education officials over alleged Title IX violations, the Department of Agriculture has halted funding, and conservative groups are pushing a 2026 ballot measure to ban male students from girls’ teams—talk about a state caught in the cultural crossfire.
Lavigne’s struggle, though personal, mirrors these larger tensions, and while progressive policies may aim for inclusivity, one wonders if they’ve swung too far from common-sense family values; still, the pain of all involved deserves our respect as the Supreme Court considers whether to weigh in.
Rep. Ilhan Omar’s husband, Tim Mynett, is caught in a whirlwind of suspicion as his venture capital outfit, Rose Lake Capital, mysteriously wipes nine key names from its website while a massive welfare fraud scandal rocks Minnesota, Breitbart reported.
This story boils down to a billion-dollar fraud scheme, ties to Omar’s circle, and a digital disappearing act by Mynett’s firm that’s raising eyebrows across the political spectrum.
Let’s start at the beginning: Tim Mynett, married to Rep. Ilhan Omar (D-MN), launched Rose Lake Capital back in 2022.
Almost overnight, the firm’s value reportedly skyrocketed from next to nothing to somewhere between $5 million and $25 million, per recent reports.
That kind of rapid ascent might impress Wall Street, but it also invites questions about how such wealth accumulates so fast.
Meanwhile, Omar’s own net worth has allegedly jumped from a modest $51,000 to a staggering $30 million in just one year, a figure she disputes but one that’s tied to Mynett’s ventures, including a winery alongside this venture capital firm, according to the New York Post.
Now, let’s pivot to the bigger storm brewing in Minnesota, where federal prosecutors have charged eight more individuals, six of Somali descent, in a welfare fraud scheme described as the largest of the pandemic, totaling over $1 billion in stolen taxpayer funds.
Omar herself has deep connections to organizations and individuals implicated in these cases, even hosting events at Safari Restaurant in Minneapolis, a venue linked to the investigations.
The owners of Safari, Salim Said and Aimee Bock, have already been convicted in the Feeding Our Future case, which siphoned off $250 million in child food aid from the state.
Amid this legal firestorm, between September and October, Rose Lake Capital scrubbed the names and bios of nine officers and advisors from its public website, a move that smells like damage control to many observers.
Among those erased are heavy hitters like Adam Ereli, a lobbyist and former Obama ambassador, and Max Baucus, another Obama-era ambassador, alongside DNC-linked figures like Alex Hoffman and William Derrough.
Even Keith Mestrich, ex-CEO of Amalgamated Bank, vanished from the site, a man who once boasted of his institution as “the institutional bank of the Democratic Party,” per his own words.
While none of the nine removed from the website face charges in the fraud, the timing of this digital purge—right as new indictments dropped—hardly seems coincidental.
Critics also point to Omar’s legislative record, noting she pushed policies that some argue opened the door for what federal authorities call a historic fraud, as reported by the New York Post.
Rep. Randy Fine (R-FL), never one to mince words, has even proposed a resolution to expel Omar and slammed Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz (D-MN), declaring he “should be in jail” for his handling of the issue.
Iran’s President Masoud Pezeshkian has just thrown down the gauntlet, declaring a “total war” against the United States, Israel, and Europe.
Amid rising tensions after the devastating 12-Day War with Israel, UN sanctions, and Iran’s push to rebuild its nuclear arsenal while cozying up to Hamas, Pezeshkian’s bold statement in state media signals a dangerous new chapter.
For American taxpayers, this escalating conflict could mean billions more in defense spending, not to mention the risk of economic fallout from potential oil market disruptions. Let’s not kid ourselves—when Iran ramps up its saber-rattling, it’s the working class who often foot the bill through higher gas prices and diverted federal funds. And that’s before we even get to the national security headaches.
This all kicked off with the 12-Day War in June, where Israel, backed by U.S. airstrikes, obliterated much of Iran’s nuclear infrastructure. But Tehran isn’t backing down; they’re already rebuilding, according to Israeli sources cited by NBC.
Adding fuel to the fire, UN sanctions—pushed by France, Britain, and Germany—have slammed Iran for chasing nuclear weapons. Yet, does anyone think sanctions alone will stop a regime this determined?
Meanwhile, Iran is tightening its grip on Hamas, with a Tehran-friendly candidate, Khalil al-Hayya, poised to take a top spot in the group’s political bureau over rival Khaled Mashaal. Sources in the Saudi outlet Asharq say al-Hayya will keep the heat on Israel, no surprise there.
The Hamas election, delayed until the war fully ends, is decided by a 50-member Shura council, and the result could come in days. If al-Hayya wins, expect Iran’s influence to grow even stronger in the region.
Now, let’s talk about Pezeshkian’s words: “In my opinion, we are at total war with the United States, Israel, and Europe.” (state media) That’s not just rhetoric—it’s a promise of confrontation, and conservatives know appeasement isn’t an option when a regime talks like this.
His follow-up is even more chilling: “This war is worse than the one launched against us by Iraq.” (state media) Worse than a brutal, decade-long conflict? That’s a signal Iran sees this as an existential fight, and we’d be naive to underestimate their resolve.
Across the ocean, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is set to meet President Trump at Mar-a-Lago on Monday to hash out a response. This fifth meeting since Trump’s second term began is pivotal, focusing on potential new strikes on Tehran and a Gaza peace deal.
But here’s the rub—White House aides, per Axios, think Israel is undermining the Gaza deal. Netanyahu’s skepticism about demilitarizing Gaza, as reported by anonymous Israeli officials, isn’t helping either.
Israel claims Iran is repairing its air defenses and rebuilding its ballistic missile program, both wrecked in the 12-Day War. If true, that’s a direct threat to regional stability, and the U.S. can’t afford to look the other way.
Let’s not ignore the broader stakes—any peace deal for Gaza is critical, yet it’s teetering on the edge with these accusations of Israeli sabotage. When even allies can’t align, Iran gains the upper hand.
Conservatives have long warned that half-measures with Iran only embolden bad actors. Tehran’s nuclear ambitions and proxy alliances like Hamas aren’t just regional problems—they’re global risks that could spiral into wider conflict.
So, as Netanyahu and Trump strategize, the world watches. Will this be a turning point for decisive action, or another round of diplomatic dithering? American families, already stretched thin, deserve leaders who prioritize security over endless posturing.
Rep. Ilhan Omar (D-MN) is caught in a storm of suspicion as her husband’s venture capital firm, Rose Lake Capital, mysteriously wipes nine key names from its website while Minnesota’s massive welfare fraud investigations intensify.
The story boils down to this: Omar, already under fire for legislation critics say paved the way for over $1 billion in taxpayer money being siphoned through welfare fraud, now faces questions as her husband Tim Mynett’s firm seemingly scrubs its digital footprint amid federal charges against others in related schemes.
For hardworking Minnesota taxpayers, this isn’t just a headline—it’s a gut punch, with over $1 billion of their hard-earned dollars reportedly stolen in welfare scams, leaving them to foot the bill for systemic failures while questions swirl about who knew what and when.
Let’s start at the beginning: Omar introduced legislation that critics argue opened the door to what federal authorities have called the largest fraud of the pandemic, a scheme that drained public funds meant for the vulnerable.
Then, in 2022, her husband, Tim Mynett, launched Rose Lake Capital, a venture capital firm that, in a remarkably short span, ballooned in reported value from nearly zero to somewhere between $5 million and $25 million.
Fast forward to the period between September and October, when federal prosecutors charged eight individuals, including six of Somali descent, in a sprawling welfare fraud operation in Minnesota, though none of those charged were linked to the names removed from Mynett’s firm.
During that same window, Rose Lake Capital quietly erased the names and bios of nine officers and advisors from its website, including notable figures like lobbyist Adam Ereli and former Sen. Max Baucus, both with ties to high-profile Democratic circles.
Now, let’s be clear—none of these nine individuals were charged in the fraud cases, but the timing of this digital vanishing act is, at best, a curious coincidence that demands a closer look.
After all, if there’s nothing to hide, why the sudden cleanup of a public-facing roster while the heat of federal scrutiny is on?
Meanwhile, Omar herself isn’t escaping the spotlight, with reports from Breitbart News noting her net worth skyrocketed from $51,000 to as much as $30 million in just one year, a jump she has publicly denied.
That eye-popping increase, per the New York Post, is tied to Mynett’s business ventures, including a winery and the aforementioned venture capital firm, though one wonders how such growth happens so swiftly without raising red flags.
Adding fuel to the fire, Omar’s documented connections to organizations and individuals implicated in Minnesota’s welfare fraud cases—including hosting events at Safari Restaurant in Minneapolis, whose owners were convicted in the $250 million Feeding Our Future scandal—only deepen the public’s skepticism.
On the political front, Rep. Randy Fine (R-FL) isn’t mincing words, announcing plans for a resolution to expel Omar over these controversies, a move that signals just how serious some lawmakers view the situation.
Fine also aimed Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz (D-MN), declaring that he “should be in jail” for his handling of the fraud epidemic, a sharp jab that underscores conservative frustration with what they see as lax oversight.
Palau, a tiny Pacific nation barely on most maps, is stepping into the U.S. immigration spotlight with a deal that’s raising eyebrows.
In a nutshell, this island country of just 18,000 souls has signed a memorandum of understanding with the United States to accept up to 75 third-country nationals—folks facing deportation who’ve never been charged with a crime—in return for a cool $7.5 million in foreign aid.
For American taxpayers, this deal might seem like a clever way to offload immigration challenges, but it’s worth asking if $7.5 million is just the start of a bigger financial burden. Could this set a precedent for more cash outflows to far-flung nations while domestic needs like border security go underfunded? Let’s not let the administration skate by without a full audit of where every penny is going.
Palau’s reasoning for jumping on board is straightforward: they’re grappling with labor shortages and see these deportees as a way to fill critical jobs. While that’s practical, one wonders if this small nation is ready for the cultural and logistical challenges of integrating newcomers under such a politically charged arrangement.
The agreement, announced on a Wednesday by President Surangel Whipps Jr.’s office and the U.S. Embassy in Koror, allows these individuals to live and work in Palau. It’s a win-win on paper, but conservatives might question if this is just another way for the U.S. to outsource tough decisions instead of tackling immigration head-on at home.
“Palau and the United States signed a memorandum of understanding allowing up to 75 third-country nationals, who have never been charged with a crime, to live and work in Palau, helping address local labor shortages in needed occupations,” stated President Surangel Whipps Jr.’s office. Nice sentiment, but let’s not pretend this doesn’t smell like a convenient workaround for U.S. enforcement priorities while Palau gets a quick cash infusion.
On top of the $7.5 million, the Trump administration is tossing in an extra $6 million to prop up Palau’s shaky civil service pension plan. That’s a generous gesture, but shouldn’t we prioritize American retirees struggling with their own pensions before bailing out foreign systems?
Additionally, another $2 million is earmarked for new law enforcement initiatives in Palau. While stronger policing is always a plus, one hopes this isn’t just a shiny distraction from ensuring our own streets are safe first.
Palau, long reliant on U.S. support, isn’t new to these kinds of arrangements, having secured a massive $889 million aid package over 20 years under the prior Biden administration, according to the State Department. That’s a hefty sum for a small player, and it begs the question of whether we’re buying loyalty rather than solving root issues.
Under the Trump administration, Palau isn’t alone in stepping up to the plate on immigration enforcement. Countries like Uganda, Rwanda, Eswatini, South Sudan, Costa Rica, Panama, and El Salvador have also agreed to take in unauthorized migrants amid a wave of mass deportations.
“The United States deeply appreciates Palau’s cooperation in enforcing U.S. immigration laws, which remains a top priority for the Trump administration,” said the U.S. Embassy in Koror. Fine words, but let’s not pat ourselves on the back too hard—shifting the burden overseas doesn’t erase the need for a rock-solid domestic policy.
This deal reflects a broader strategy to align U.S. immigration goals with international partnerships. While it’s refreshing to see action over endless progressive hand-wringing, conservatives should demand transparency on how these agreements impact long-term border control.
Palau’s willingness to help might be rooted in necessity, given its heavy dependence on foreign aid. But for American citizens, it’s fair to wonder if we’re getting true value for our money or just kicking the can down the road.
The Trump administration’s focus on deportation is a welcome shift from years of lax enforcement, yet these international deals must be scrutinized for hidden costs. Small nations like Palau shouldn’t become dumping grounds for problems we’re unwilling to solve at home.
Ultimately, while this agreement might ease some immediate pressures, it’s a reminder that real solutions lie in securing our borders and reforming a broken system—not in writing checks to distant islands. Let’s keep the pressure on for policies that put American interests first, without losing sight of fair play for all involved.
Could a single Supreme Court decision hand Republicans the keys to the U.S. House in 2026?
A pivotal case, Louisiana v. Callais, challenging Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act of 1965, might reshape congressional maps across the South and potentially net the GOP nine or more seats in the upcoming midterm elections.
During oral arguments two months ago, a majority of the conservative Supreme Court justices signaled skepticism about race-based congressional districts, a practice rooted in Section 2’s protections against voting discrimination based on race or color.
This provision has historically led to majority-minority districts, often benefiting Democrats in Republican-leaning states with significant Black populations.
If struck down, as many as 30 districts with high Black voter populations—over half in red states—could be redrawn, directly threatening Democratic strongholds.
Analysis from Nate Cohn of The New York Times suggests that scrapping these districts might cut Democratic-held seats in the South from 24 to half that number, with nine direct pickups for the GOP.
With the GOP clinging to a slim 220-213 House majority, and only a three-vote buffer for Speaker Mike Johnson on partisan issues, every seat counts—especially with historical midterm losses looming for the party holding the White House.
President Trump has urged GOP-led states to seize the moment with mid-decade redistricting, like Texas’ new maps that could add five Republican seats, while allies eye similar moves in Florida.
Democrats aren’t sitting idle—California voters recently passed a ballot measure to redraw maps in a way that could offset Texas’ gains by bolstering Democratic seats.
Still, there’s risk even for Republicans; eliminating these districts might create moderate swing seats that could flip to centrist Democrats in a strong blue wave, diluting the GOP’s hoped-for edge.
“If it comes and it completely changes our understanding of Section 2 and doesn’t protect these districts anymore, you could have a significant impact,” said Kyle Kondik, managing editor of Sabato’s Crystal Ball at the University of Virginia Center for Politics.
Kondik’s caution is well-placed, but let’s be real—Democrats like Rep. Cleo Fields of Louisiana, whose redrawn 6th District is at the heart of this case, might soon find their political maps looking more like a Jackson Pollock painting than a safe seat.
Others, like Rep. Troy Carter of Louisiana, Rep. Jim Clyburn of South Carolina, and Rep. Bennie Thompson of Mississippi, face similar threats as state Republicans could reconfigure districts if Section 2 falls, while Reps. Steve Cohen of Tennessee, Shomari Figures and Terri Sewell of Alabama, and Wesley Bell of Missouri are also on the chopping block.
“The Voting Rights Act is not a relic; it is a living promise that our democracy belongs to everyone,” stressed Rep. Troy Carter after oral arguments—a noble sentiment, though conservatives might argue it’s been stretched to prioritize partisan advantage over fair representation.
Bombs have fallen silent along the Thai-Cambodian border, at least for now, as a fragile 72-hour ceasefire takes hold after weeks of deadly clashes.
After a brutal conflict that claimed dozens of lives and uprooted thousands, Thailand and Cambodia struck a new ceasefire deal that started on Saturday, aiming to restore peace and let civilians reclaim their shattered lives, as reported by The Hill
The conflict, raging for weeks, saw devastating losses on both sides, with Thailand reporting 26 soldiers and 44 civilians killed, while Cambodia mourned around 30 civilian deaths and 90 injuries.
Just before the agreement, violence peaked with Cambodia dropping 40 bombs on a village in Banteay Meanchey province on Friday, followed by Thailand deploying F-16 jets for airstrikes in the same area.
Even as peace talks unfolded on Saturday morning, air strikes continued, casting doubt on whether either side truly wanted to lay down arms.
Yet, amidst the chaos, a General Border Committee meeting paved the way for this temporary truce, a small but critical step toward stability.
The terms of this 72-hour pause are clear: Thailand must return 18 Cambodian soldiers held since July and work to clear deadly landmines from their shared border.
Both nations will monitor the ceasefire closely to ensure it holds, with Thai Defense Minister Nattaphon Narkphanit stating, “The ceasefire will be monitored and observed for 72 hours to confirm that it is real and continuous.”
Let’s be honest—72 hours is a blink in the face of such entrenched hostility, and if either side flinches, we’re back to square one faster than a progressive policy flops at the ballot box.
The ultimate goal is to let displaced families return to their homes, fields, and schools, a sentiment echoed by Cambodian Defense Minister Tea Seiha, who said the pause will allow people “to return to their homes, work in the fields, and even allow their children to be able to return to schools and resume their studies.”
That’s a noble aim, but let’s not pretend stability is guaranteed when trust between these neighbors is thinner than a politician’s promise during campaign season.
Still, if the ceasefire holds, it could be a rare win for common folks caught in the crossfire of territorial disputes.
U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio welcomed the announcement, urging both nations to stick to the terms and fully honor the Kuala Lumpur Peace Accords.
President Trump, though not directly involved this time, has been a vocal advocate for peace in the region, previously pushing for ceasefires and engaging with both Thai Prime Minister Anutin Charnvirakul and Cambodian Prime Minister Hun Manet.
While some, like Cambodian Deputy Prime Minister Sun Chanthol, have floated lofty praise for Trump’s past efforts, the real test isn’t in words but in whether this truce can survive beyond a mere three days—because peace isn’t built on accolades, but on accountability.
Governor Ron DeSantis is drawing a line in the sand, positioning Florida as the frontline in the battle against unchecked artificial intelligence expansion.
With a bold agenda to curb AI’s societal and economic fallout, DeSantis is clashing with tech giants and even President Donald Trump, who champions a laissez-faire approach to AI for global dominance, Politico reported.
This isn’t about cultural flashpoints or progressive overreach; it’s about hard-nosed concerns over jobs, community resources, and the very fabric of democracy.
On Dec. 15 in Jupiter, DeSantis didn’t mince words, warning against what he called a dangerous “transhumanist strain” in AI tech.
“The idea of this transhumanist strain, that somehow this is going to supplant humans and this other stuff, we have to reject that with every fiber of our being,” DeSantis declared.
That’s a gut punch to Silicon Valley’s utopian dreams, and it’s refreshing to hear a leader prioritize human dignity over machine worship.
Just days later on Dec. 18 in Sebring, DeSantis doubled down, slamming AI-generated content as little more than deceptive junk.
“Let’s not try to act like some type of fake videos or fake songs are going to deliver us to some kind of utopia,” he said. Talk about a reality check for Big Tech’s rose-colored glasses.
Meanwhile, Trump’s pushing for federal oversight with minimal restrictions, even threatening lawsuits against states like Florida for daring to set their own rules—yet DeSantis remains unfazed, leaning on states’ rights under the 10th Amendment.
At the heart of DeSantis’ crusade is a push to halt the spread of massive data centers, which he and local Floridians see as resource hogs causing noise, pollution, and utility spikes.
Projects like a proposed 202-acre facility in Palm Beach County are on hold, while St. Lucie County residents fight a $13.5 billion center threatening agricultural land—a classic case of corporate interests steamrolling community needs.
DeSantis isn’t buying the tech industry’s “jobs and growth” pitch, pointing to examples like Louisiana’s mammoth data hub as a cautionary tale Florida must avoid.
As Florida’s legislative session looms on Jan. 13, 2026, DeSantis has made AI restrictions a top priority, proposing consumer notifications, bans on AI-driven mental health counseling, and parental controls over kids’ tech use.
Lawmakers are already advancing a bill to ensure human oversight in insurance decisions, a sensible guardrail against algorithm tyranny, while the state House held extensive hearings in December 2025 to weigh innovation against protection.
DeSantis frames this as a bipartisan fight to shield families and ratepayers from AI’s darker side, building on Florida’s existing laws against AI misuse in political ads and child exploitation—a rare issue where common sense might just prevail over partisan noise.