House Speaker Mike Johnson says the federal government's deportation apparatus is shifting gears. In a recent interview, Johnson acknowledged that immigration enforcement drew some blowback from Hispanic and Latino voters who viewed certain actions as "overzealous," and he framed the coming months as a recalibration, not a retreat.
"We got a little hiccup with some of the Hispanic and Latino voters, for certain, because some of the immigration enforcement was viewed to be overzealous," Johnson said. "But here's the good news, we're in a course correction mode right now."
The shift centers on personnel. Johnson pointed to incoming homeland security chief Markwayne Mullen as a steadying hand, while crediting Tom Homan's decades of experience as a stabilizing force already in motion.
Johnson was explicit about what the next chapter looks like at the Department of Homeland Security. According the Breitbart, he praised Mullen's temperament and predicted a smooth confirmation:
"We're going to have a new secretary on Homeland Security. Markwayne Mullen is going to do a great job in that role. I'm sure that he'll be confirmed by the Senate. He's a thoughtful guy. He'll bring a thoughtful approach. [We] have somebody like Tom Homan who has 40 years of experience [in this] field and was decorated by Democrat presidents for his acumen and expertise. He went into Minneapolis and brought calm to the chaos there. That's what you're going to see."
That last line matters. "Brought calm to the chaos" is the framing Republicans want: competence over controversy, order over spectacle. Mullen, for his part, opposes any form of migration amnesty, though he has been ambivalent on his preferred deportation policy. What he inherits is a department under intense scrutiny from both the left and from conservatives who want enforcement executed with precision.
The course correction was also sketched by James Blair, the White House's deputy chief of staff for legislation and political affairs, signaling this isn't freelancing by Johnson. It's coordinated messaging from the top.
Johnson didn't sugarcoat the political reality. Latino voters swung toward the GOP on a constellation of issues: the open border, the cost of living, and the job market. Keeping them means delivering on all of it, not just the enforcement piece.
"I think that Hispanic and Latino voters who came to us came for a number of reasons. They were very animated about the open border and all the negative secondary effects that came from that, but they also concerned about the cost of living and the lack of jobs and all these other things that everyone's concerned about."
This is the tension Republicans have to manage. The voters who elected them want the border secured and illegal immigrants removed. They also want to feel that enforcement is targeted, proportionate, and doesn't sweep up legal residents or naturalized citizens in the process. Those aren't contradictory demands. They're the demands of a serious electorate that expects competence.
And they're very different from what the left wants, which is to use any enforcement friction as proof that enforcement itself is wrong. That argument collapses on contact with the actual voters Johnson is describing: people who fled dysfunction in their home countries and have zero interest in importing it here.
Behind the political maneuvering sits a real economic story that the legacy press largely ignores. A February 10–18 survey by the Federal Reserve Bank of Dallas found:
Read those numbers again. The ratio has essentially inverted in twelve months. Employers are finding domestic workers, adjusting compensation, and adapting. The sky has not fallen.
A December 2025 report by The Birmingham Group captured the shift in the construction sector:
"The construction industry is experiencing its most dramatic compensation transformation in decades. The current labor shortage is driving unprecedented wage increases across commercial projects. Construction firms report difficulty filling critical positions, with some markets experiencing job opening-to-candidate ratios exceeding 3:1. This imbalance has created a seller's market for skilled workers, enabling significant salary negotiations and competitive pay packages."
For decades, Americans were told that illegal immigrant labor was essential, that crops would rot and buildings wouldn't rise without a permanent underclass working for wages no citizen would accept. What's actually happening is different. Wages are climbing. Employers are competing for workers. The labor market is doing what labor markets do when the supply of cheap, exploitable labor tightens.
One X user captured the populist frustration that drives this realignment with blunt clarity:
"I want the drywallers who loiter around the gas station at 5 am and clog everything up because the cashier can't understand them gone. I want the farmhand who works for $12/hr and no benefits because the taxpayer shells out for his kids' education, health care, and housing. I want them all gone, violent or not. I want my country back."
That's not policy language. It's the sound of a voter who has watched his community change around him while being told he's not allowed to object. The GOP's job is to translate that energy into enforceable law and economic results, not to dismiss it and not to let it curdle into something unproductive.
Johnson tied enforcement policy directly to the broader economic agenda, projecting that tighter labor markets, tax reform, and deregulation would produce results voters can feel in their wallets.
"We're anticipating extraordinary economic growth going into this year. In the midterm all boats will raise. Salaries and wages will go up. You have bigger tax refunds and bigger paychecks, and the average family $10,000 more money in the pocket because of Republican policies. I think these people will see we did what we said we're going to do."
Trump himself offered a characteristically bold vision for what comes after the labor market tightens. Speaking to Breitbart News, he leaned into automation as the long-term answer:
"We're going to need robots … to make our economy run because we do not have enough people. We have to get efficient … we'll probably add to [the existing workforce] through robotically — it's going to be robotically … It's going to be big. Then, somebody is going to have to make the robots. The whole thing, it feeds on itself … we're going to streamline things. We need efficiency."
The logic is straightforward: remove the artificial suppression of wages created by mass illegal immigration, let the market correct itself, and invest in technology to handle the gaps. It's the opposite of the left's preferred model, which is to import an endless stream of cheap labor, subsidize it with taxpayer-funded services, and then call anyone who objects a bigot.
The key distinction in everything Johnson laid out is the difference between adjusting tactics and abandoning the mission. The rule of law still applies. Illegal immigrants who are here unlawfully are still subject to removal. What changes is the tone, the targeting, and the public face of enforcement.
Johnson closed with a line aimed squarely at the voters the GOP is courting:
"We uphold the rule of law, but we do it in a way that honors the dignity of everyone, and they'll understand that our party is with them, cares about them. This is the permanent home where they should be okay."
That's the pitch: a party that enforces the law, grows the economy, and treats legal immigrants as full partners in the American project. Whether the execution matches the rhetoric will determine whether the GOP's gains with Latino voters harden into a durable coalition or evaporate by the midterms.
The Dallas Fed data and rising construction wages suggest the economic argument is already building itself. Now the question is whether Washington can get the politics right without losing its nerve.
The sheriff running the investigation into the disappearance of Nancy Guthrie, the 84-year-old mother of "Today" show co-host Savannah Guthrie, resigned from his first law enforcement job in 1982 after a string of workplace infractions and was given the choice to step down or be fired.
Pima County Sheriff Chris Nanos left the El Paso Police Department more than four decades ago under circumstances that remained largely buried until now. According to reporting by the Arizona Republic, Nanos accumulated a laundry list of infractions during his time in El Paso, including an allegation that he kicked a suspect in the head so severely the person was hospitalized. He received 37 days of unpaid leave before finally being told to either step down or get canned.
He took the resignation option. Then, apparently, he rewrote the story.
Nanos's publicly posted resume listed him as remaining with the El Paso Police Department until 1984, two years longer than he was actually there. He joined the Pima County Sheriff's Department as a corrections officer in 1984, meaning the inflated dates conveniently closed the gap between an inglorious exit and a fresh start in Arizona.
According to the New York Post, when confronted with the discrepancy, the Pima County Sheriff's Department acknowledged the inaccuracy, calling it and another missed date "clerical errors" that had been corrected. Two years is a generous clerical error. Most clerical errors involve a misplaced digit, not a fabricated timeline that papers over a forced resignation.
Nanos himself was less diplomatic about the scrutiny. When pressed by reporters, he offered this:
"That's your 'urgent' request? You sure you don't want to go back to my high school and ask why I got swats from the principal? Good luck with your hit piece."
That's the lead investigator in a case involving an elderly woman who vanished from her Tucson home on February 1 and has now been missing for over five weeks. The tone is not reassuring.
The resume revelation lands in the middle of an investigation that has already drawn sharp criticism. Nanos has been accused of making confusing and contradictory statements about the Guthrie case. The scene at Nancy Guthrie's home was reportedly left so unsecured that reporters and even pizza deliverymen were able to walk up to the front door. Several "persons of interest" were questioned, but all were cleared.
Five weeks. No arrests. No publicly identified suspects. And the man overseeing it all brushes off questions about his professional history with sarcasm.
None of this means Nanos is incapable of running an investigation. People grow over four decades. His department issued a statement emphasizing exactly that:
"Sheriff Nanos has dedicated more than four decades to law enforcement and public service. Throughout his career, he has demonstrated a steadfast commitment to professionalism, accountability, and the safety of the communities he serves."
The statement continued, asserting that he "continues to lead the department with experience, integrity, and a clear focus on protecting the residents of Pima County." Fair enough. But integrity is a word that sits uncomfortably next to a resume that added two phantom years to a job you were forced out of.
Nanos has been the sheriff of Pima County since 2021 after winning two consecutive elections. He first joined El Paso law enforcement in 1976 and later led the investigation into the 2011 shooting of Rep. Gabby Giffords, an attack that left six dead and 13 injured. He received accolades, including "Officer of the Year," during his time in El Paso. The career arc is long enough to contain both genuine accomplishment and the kind of early failures that people move past.
But moving past something and lying about it are different things. A corrected resume is not the same as a clean one. And a sheriff who responds to legitimate questions with dismissiveness during a high-profile missing persons case is inviting exactly the kind of scrutiny he claims to resent.
This is a broader pattern that conservative voters recognize instinctively: the public official who insists on deference while delivering diminishing returns. The credentials are polished. The statements are boilerplate. And the results speak for themselves, or in this case, don't speak at all. When accountability becomes an inconvenience to the people in charge of enforcing it, the system has a credibility problem that no press release can fix.
Nancy Guthrie is still missing. That fact should dwarf every other element of this story. An 84-year-old woman vanished from her home, and over five weeks later, the public has no answers.
The families of missing persons deserve investigators who welcome scrutiny because they have nothing to hide. They deserve transparency, not posturing. They deserve a lead investigator whose first instinct, when asked a hard question, is not to mock the person asking it.
Whatever happened in El Paso in 1982 may be ancient history. But the instinct to obscure, deflect, and rewrite the record is very much present tense.
President Trump will travel to Hebron, Kentucky, on Wednesday to rally support for Ed Gallrein, the former Navy SEAL he endorsed to unseat Rep. Thomas Massie in the state's upcoming Republican primary. Gallrein's campaign confirmed he will be at the event. Massie will not.
The visit marks a rare move by a sitting president: campaigning directly in a fellow Republican's home district to end his career. Hebron sits in Boone County, just south of Cincinnati, squarely inside Massie's turf along the Ohio River. The primary election is May 19th, just a little more than two months away.
Trump will also make a stop in Ohio. White House spokesperson Liz Huston framed the trip in economic terms:
"President Trump will visit the great states of Ohio and Kentucky on Wednesday to tout his economic victories and detail his administration's aggressive, ongoing efforts to lower prices and make America more affordable."
But the Kentucky leg of the trip carries a message that has nothing to do with grocery bills.
Thomas Massie is a seven-term congressman who has refused to support Trump's "Big Beautiful Bill," criticized the president's foreign policy, and accused him of executive overreach on military actions, including operations against drug boats and Iran. Trump has railed against Massie as "the worst Republican," and the frustration has only deepened.
As the New York Post reported, speaking to House Republicans at their retreat at Trump Doral on Monday, Trump didn't name Massie directly but left little mystery about his target:
"We have to get a couple of people on board, which at least one case is virtually impossible. I wonder who that might be, sick person."
A senior administration official was more explicit, telling The Post that Massie's opposition has crossed a line from principled disagreement into something less useful:
"You can have differences, but you have to be constructive. He is not constructive. In fact, he's the Democrats' favorite member."
That last line deserves attention. In a House where margins are razor-thin, a Republican who consistently hands the opposition its talking points and its votes isn't a maverick. He's a liability.
There is a long and honorable tradition of intraparty disagreement in American politics. Nobody expects 100 percent loyalty on every vote. But there is a difference between a member who negotiates behind closed doors and ultimately gets to yes, and one who builds a brand around being the loudest "no" in the room.
Massie has positioned himself as the latter. He has:
To his credit, Massie led the charge on demanding the Justice Department release all its files in the Jeffrey Epstein case. That's a position with broad support on the right. But one good call doesn't erase a pattern of obstruction on the issues that matter most to the GOP agenda right now.
His campaign's response to the Hebron rally was telling: "Congressman Massie will not be attending as he has a previously scheduled official event." Clean, bloodless, and entirely beside the point. The president of the United States is coming to your district to tell your voters you need to go. Whether you attend is not the story.
Ed Gallrein offers the kind of profile that Republican primary voters in a district like this tend to reward: a former Navy SEAL who has praised Trump, his policies, and his handling of the conflict with Iran. Where Massie criticizes, Gallrein supports. Where Massie obstructs, Gallrein signals he'll execute.
That contrast is the entire campaign in miniature. Trump doesn't need members who agree with him privately and grandstand publicly. He needs votes. With the legislative calendar pressing forward and the "Big Beautiful Bill" still in play, every seat matters, and every reliable vote matters more.
Trump told the House Republican retreat that the party's unity is historic:
"The Republican Party has fantastic spirit, the level I don't think has been seen before."
A Wednesday rally in Boone County is how you make sure that spirit translates into results. Massie's district will decide on May 19th whether it wants a congressman who fights the president or one who fights alongside him.
The president just made that choice a whole lot easier to see.
U.S. figure skating star Alysa Liu has pulled out of the world championships in Prague, only days after describing a disturbing encounter with fans at an airport. Liu's name has disappeared from the International Skating Union website for the event scheduled for the Czech Republic, according to Fox News.
The reason for the star skater's withdrawal was not explained.
Last week, Liu wrote in an Instagram story post describing what happened when she landed at the airport.
"So I land at the airport, and there's a crowd waiting at the exit with cameras and things for me to sign."
"All up in my personal space. Someone chased me to my car, bruh. Please do not do that to me."
And then she was gone from the competition roster. No official statement from the ISU. No public explanation from Liu's camp beyond the Instagram post. Just a vanished name on a website and an athlete who has been here before.
This is not the first time Alysa Liu has stepped away from the sport under pressure that had nothing to do with the ice. After her first Olympic appearance in 2022, Liu temporarily retreated from skating entirely. Her father, Arthur, told USA Today at the time that the withdrawal ran deeper than burnout.
"She became really unhappy. She avoided the ice rink at all costs. She's traumatized. She was just traumatized. She was suffering from PTSD, and she wouldn't go near the ice rink."
The backdrop to that 2022 retreat was not just the pressure of Olympic competition. Arthur Liu and his daughter were reportedly targets of Chinese spying during the 2022 Beijing Olympics. That revelation hit the young skater hard. Liu told Fox News at the time how surreal the discovery felt.
"You know what I mean? It's so … unbelievable. You know what I mean, like, that's crazy. Like, imagine finding that out at such a young age, I mean, like, in a weird way, I was like, 'Am I like in some prank show?' Like, is this world real?"
A teenager learning she was surveilled by a foreign government while competing on its soil. That is not a normal occupational hazard for an American athlete. And it left marks that took years to fade.
Despite stepping away from skating in 2022, Liu was back by 2024, Breitbart reported. And in 2025, she became the first American to win at the World Figure Skating Championships in 19 years. Then she headed to the Olympics this year.
That trajectory matters. This is not a skater on the decline looking for an exit. This is an athlete who clawed her way back from genuine psychological distress, reached the pinnacle of her sport, and then pulled out of a major international competition because someone chased her to her car at an airport.
The instinct here is to separate the fan incident from the earlier trauma. Maybe it was just an overzealous autograph seeker. Maybe it was nothing. But for someone who already carries the weight of having been a target of foreign espionage as a minor, "nothing" doesn't register the same way. Context changes the threat calculus. A crowd pressing in on a young woman who knows what it feels like to be watched by people with far worse intentions than getting a signature is not the same experience it would be for someone without that history.
There is a broader question here that tends to get lost when the story is framed as a celebrity reacting to fans. American athletes competing internationally, particularly those with backgrounds that make them targets of foreign intelligence services, operate in an environment where personal security is not guaranteed and often not prioritized.
The Chinese spying allegations from the 2022 Beijing Olympics were serious enough to be reported publicly. Yet there is no indication from the available information that any institutional structure exists to ensure athletes like Liu feel safe when they travel internationally for competition. The ISU has offered no public comment. The apparatus around elite American skating appears to have shrugged.
Liu's withdrawal from Prague is a loss for American figure skating. She earned her place there. She earned it the hard way, through a comeback most athletes never manage. The fact that she is not competing is not a story about a fragile athlete. It is a story about a young woman who has already endured more than most competitors ever face, and who reached a point where the cost of showing up exceeded what she was willing to pay.
President Trump on Saturday pointed the finger squarely at Iran for the destruction of Shajareh Tayyebeh Elementary School in Minab, an attack that killed over 165 people, mostly children. Asked aboard Air Force One whether U.S. forces were responsible, Trump was unequivocal.
"No, and based on what I've seen, that was done by Iran."
The President added that Iran is "very inaccurate, as you know, with their munitions" and that the regime has "no accuracy whatsoever." Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth backed that assessment with a sharper edge, stating plainly: "The only side that targets civilians is Iran."
Neither the United States nor Iran has accepted responsibility for the attack. But the administration's posture is clear: this was Iran's doing, and the investigation will bear that out.
The strike on Shajareh Tayyebeh Elementary School produced the highest reported civilian death toll since the joint U.S.-Israeli operation began. According to The Associated Press, citing Iranian state media, over 165 people died, the vast majority of them children.
Sources cited by Middle East Eye said the school was struck twice. The second strike killed survivors who had been sheltering in the rubble. That detail alone should command the world's attention, and it demands a serious, transparent investigation into who launched the munitions, as The Hill reports.
Several media outlets, including The Associated Press and Reuters, reported that the explosions were likely caused by U.S. airstrikes. The AP cited experts reviewing satellite imagery. Reuters reported that U.S. military investigators said a U.S. strike likely destroyed the school, though the investigation remains ongoing.
Wes J. Bryant, a former senior adviser on civilian harm at the Pentagon, told The New York Times that the school and nearby buildings were hit with "picture-perfect" targeted strikes but attributed the school's destruction to "target misidentification," suggesting U.S. forces did not realize civilians were inside.
White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt was asked on Wednesday whether U.S. airstrikes hit the school. Her answer: "Not that we know of." She confirmed the Department of Defense was investigating and accused reporters of falling for Iranian "propaganda."
"So I would caution you from pointing the finger at the United States of America when it comes to targeting civilians, because that's not something these armed forces do."
Hegseth, for his part, acknowledged that the inquiry is active. "We're certainly investigating," he said. But he left no ambiguity about where the administration believes moral culpability lies.
There is an important distinction between what happened operationally and who bears strategic responsibility. Even Bryant's assessment, the most critical analysis cited in reporting, described precision strikes that hit their intended coordinates. If civilian deaths resulted from misidentification of a target, that is a question about intelligence sourcing, not about American forces deliberately targeting children. Iran, which embeds military infrastructure in civilian populations and has spent decades perfecting the art of human shields, understands this distinction perfectly well. It counts on the Western press not to.
The rush to pin this on American forces follows a familiar pattern. Iranian state media produces casualty figures. Western outlets amplify them with minimal independent verification. Reporters then confront U.S. officials with those figures as fact, demanding they accept blame in real time while an investigation is still underway.
This is not journalism. It is a laundering operation for regime propaganda, and every cycle works the same way.
Consider the sourcing chain: Iranian state media provides the death toll. The AP cites Iranian state media. Reporters cite the AP. And suddenly the White House press secretary is being asked to answer for numbers produced by a theocratic regime that executes its own citizens for not wearing hijabs. The same regime that has no free press, no independent coroners, and every incentive to maximize reported casualties for global sympathy.
None of this means the deaths aren't real or that the loss of children isn't horrifying. It is. Over 165 dead, mostly children, is a catastrophe regardless of who is responsible. But grief and accountability are not the same thing, and allowing a terrorist-sponsoring government to dictate the narrative of accountability is a choice the press keeps making.
The President attended the dignified transfer of six U.S. service members killed in Kuwait on March 1. Six Americans came home in flag-draped coffins. That is the reason this operation exists. American men and women died, and the United States responded.
Iran's regime funds, arms, and directs proxy forces across the Middle East. It has done so for decades. When those proxies kill Americans, the United States has every right, and every obligation, to respond with overwhelming force directed at military targets. The question of whether a specific strike hit an unintended civilian site is a serious operational matter that deserves a thorough investigation. It is not, however, an indictment of the mission itself.
The press would like to collapse those two things into one. They want the horror of dead children to retroactively delegitimize the entire campaign. That framing serves Tehran's interests, not America's, and not the truth's.
The Department of Defense investigation is ongoing. If American munitions struck that school due to faulty intelligence or target misidentification, the facts will emerge through that process. The U.S. military, unlike Iran's, investigates its own actions and publishes findings. That distinction matters more than any reporter's gotcha question at a press briefing.
Meanwhile, the regime in Tehran will continue to exploit every civilian death it can, including the ones it causes itself. It has done so in Lebanon, in Yemen, in Iraq, and in Syria. The playbook never changes. Only the credulity of the audience varies.
Over 165 people are dead, most of them children who walked into a school and never walked out. Someone is responsible for that. The administration says it was Iran. The investigation will determine the truth. But the American press might consider, just once, waiting for the facts before delivering Tehran's verdict for them.
Sanford "Sandy" Wernick, the longtime talent manager who helped shape some of the most recognizable names and shows in American entertainment, died Thursday in Rancho Mirage, California. He was 86.
A family representative told The Hollywood Reporter that Wernick passed after a brief illness, surrounded by his family and loved ones. A private service will be held in Palm Desert, followed by a memorial celebration in Los Angeles.
Born on March 22, 1939, in the Bronx, Wernick's biography reads like the kind of American life that doesn't get built anymore. He served in the Army from 1960 to 1962, graduated from NYU, and then did what ambitious young men in mid-century New York did: he went to work.
Before becoming a manager in the 1970s, Wernick worked as an agent, climbing from the mailroom at MCA to vice president of the TV division at ICM. That trajectory alone tells you something about the man. He didn't skip steps. He learned the business from the ground up, in an era when that phrase still meant something.
He eventually became a partner and senior executive vice president at Brillstein Entertainment Partners, a firm whose fingerprints are on a staggering number of projects that shaped American pop culture.
The list of shows Wernick was involved in packaging and producing is not a résumé. It's a cultural inventory:
He co-created and executive-produced Def Comedy Jam. He served as an executive producer on several of Adam Sandler's most iconic films, including Happy Gilmore, Billy Madison, The Wedding Singer, and Bulletproof. He also made cameos in several films and TV shows along the way.
His client list ran deep: Lorne Michaels, Rob Schneider, Jeff Ross, Colin Quinn, Peter Falk, Don Mischer, Stan Lathan, and many others. The range alone, from comedy to drama, from live television to film, reveals a manager who understood talent in all its forms, not just the bankable kind.
What stands out about Wernick isn't just the professional success. It's the texture of the life around it.
He spent years as an adjunct professor at the USC School of Cinematic Arts' Peter Stark Producing Program, passing along hard-won knowledge to the next generation. He volunteered in the Cedars Sinai emergency room. He liked to golf. He was, according to the source material, a former yo-yo champion.
That last detail is the kind of thing that makes a man real. Not a brand. Not a LinkedIn profile. A person with hobbies and quirks and a life that extended well beyond the deal table.
There's something worth noting in the arc of Wernick's career. He came up through institutions, the Army, NYU, the agency mailroom, and built something durable.
He stayed married to his wife, Barbara, for 64 years. He raised a family. He gave back. In an industry that chews people up and rewards narcissism, Wernick apparently managed to do the work without losing himself in it.
That kind of steadiness is increasingly rare in Hollywood and everywhere else.
Wernick is survived by his wife Barbara, daughter Michele, son Barry, daughter-in-law Jillian, grandson Sammy, sister Joyce, and brother-in-law Jules.
In a town that confuses fame with significance, Sandy Wernick built something that actually mattered: a body of work, a family, and a reputation earned over decades. The Bronx kid who started in the mailroom left behind a legacy that most people in entertainment can only talk about wanting.
He didn't talk about it. He built it.
President Trump announced Friday that Sen. Markwayne Mullin of Oklahoma will become the next Secretary of Homeland Security, replacing Kristi Noem effective March 31, 2026. Noem, meanwhile, will shift to a newly created position: Special Envoy for The Shield of the Americas, a Western Hemisphere security initiative set to be unveiled Saturday in Doral, Florida.
The move places a seasoned legislator and former construction company CEO at the helm of the sprawling department responsible for border security, immigration enforcement, and counterterrorism. It also signals that the administration views hemispheric security as important enough to warrant its own dedicated envoy.
Trump announced Truth Social, framing the pick in characteristically direct terms:
"I am pleased to announce that the Highly Respected United States Senator from the Great State of Oklahoma, Markwayne Mullin, will become the United States Secretary of Homeland Security (DHS), effective March 31, 2026."
According to Breitbart, Mullin brings 13 years of congressional experience to the role, having served a decade in the U.S. House of Representatives before moving to the Senate for three years. That kind of institutional knowledge matters at DHS, an agency that touches everything from ICE operations to FEMA to the Secret Service. Running it requires someone who can navigate the federal bureaucracy and the political battlefield simultaneously.
Trump left no ambiguity about the mission:
"Markwayne will work tirelessly to Keep our Border Secure, Stop Migrant Crime, Murderers, and other Criminals from illegally entering our Country, End the Scourge of Illegal Drugs and, MAKE AMERICA SAFE AGAIN."
That language isn't window dressing. It's a directive. The administration has made clear since day one that border security and interior enforcement are not negotiable priorities, and the man chosen to lead DHS will be expected to deliver on both.
The president was complimentary of Noem's tenure, noting she "has served us well" and delivered "numerous and spectacular results (especially on the Border!)." This week alone, Noem appeared before both Senate and House hearings, where she championed the administration's migration policy as a corrective to the affordability crisis fueled by the Biden administration's high-migration approach.
That framing deserves attention. The connection between mass illegal immigration and the cost of housing, healthcare, and public services is one that the left has spent years trying to sever. Noem drew it explicitly. Now she'll carry that argument to a broader theater.
The Shield of the Americas initiative, details of which are expected Saturday, suggests the administration is expanding its security posture beyond the southern border to address threats across the Western Hemisphere. Moving Noem into a dedicated envoy role rather than simply showing her the door tells you this isn't a demotion dressed up in a title. It's a recognition that the border crisis didn't originate at the Rio Grande. It was manufactured across an entire hemisphere of failed states, corrupt governments, and cartels operating with near-impunity.
Mullin's departure from the Senate creates a vacancy that Oklahoma Gov. Kevin Stitt will be positioned to fill. That appointment will be worth watching. Senate seats don't just shape policy; they shape the internal dynamics of the Republican caucus for years. Oklahoma sent Trump to victory in all 77 of its counties across three consecutive elections. Whoever fills Mullin's seat will carry that mandate.
Cabinet reshuffles in a second term often signal recalibration, not retreat. Trump is placing people where the fight is heading, not where it's been. Mullin at DHS keeps the border mission in aggressive hands. Noem at a hemispheric security post extends the perimeter.
The left will frame this as chaos. They always do. Every personnel move is treated as evidence of dysfunction by people who spent four years pretending the Biden border was under control. What this actually looks like is an administration that treats its Cabinet the way a CEO treats a leadership team: put the right person in the right seat at the right time.
Mullin hasn't spoken publicly yet on the appointment. He won't need to say much. The job description is simple enough. Secure the border. Enforce the law. Stop the bleeding that the previous administration refused to even acknowledge.
The Senate will have its say on confirmation. Oklahoma will get a new senator. And on Saturday in Doral, we'll learn what the Shield of the Americas actually looks like.
The pieces are moving. That tends to make the right people uncomfortable.
Colorado Gov. Jared Polis (D) floated possible clemency for former Mesa County elections clerk Tina Peters, who has been sitting in state prison since receiving a nine-year sentence for her handling of election equipment during the 2020 election.
Polis made the move in a post on X Tuesday, pointing to what he called a glaring sentencing disparity between Peters and a former Democrat state senator convicted of the same felony charge. The governor extended the deadline for clemency applications to April 3rd and said he would be making decisions on such cases throughout the remainder of his governorship.
Peters's attorney, Peter Ticktin, told PBS News Hour on Wednesday that he hoped Peters would be released this week, clarifying that any relief would be a commutation rather than a pardon. He described what he understood to be a procedural timeline:
"My understanding is that there is a 2 day delay between the communication and the announcement and release for pragmatic purposes."
The case Polis pointed to is damning in its simplicity, according to The Hill. Former state Sen. Sonya Jaquez Lewis, whom Polis described as "a friend for many years," was convicted in January of four felony charges, including attempt to influence a public official. Her sentence: two years of probation and community service.
Tina Peters was found guilty of four felonies, including the same charge. Her sentence: nine years in state prison.
Polis laid it out plainly:
"It is not lost on me that she was convicted of the exact same felony charge as Tina Peters — attempting to influence a public official — and yet Tina Peters, as a non-violent first time offender got a nine year sentence."
Four felonies for the Democrat. Probation. Four felonies for the Republican. Nine years behind bars. The facts require no editorial embellishment.
The governor framed his reasoning around consistency rather than ideology:
"Justice in Colorado and America needs to be applied evenly, you never know when you might need to depend on the rule of law."
Peters was sentenced in October 2024 to nine years in state prison over accusations that she used an individual's security badge to provide access to the Mesa County election system to another person affiliated with MyPillow CEO Mike Lindell. The charges were treated as an election interference case.
President Trump drew attention to the case early and often. He criticized Polis on Truth Social in December, calling on him to be "ashamed of himself" and demanding authorities "FREE TINA!" Later that month, Trump wrote that Polis and Mesa County District Attorney Dan Rubinstein should "rot in HELL."
Peters asked a state appeals court in December to recognize Trump's attempt to pardon her, but the effort went nowhere. She was convicted of state charges, which a presidential pardon cannot reach.
The pressure continued into the new year. On Monday, Trump posted again on Truth Social: "FREE TINA PETERS!" The White House on Wednesday referred reporters to that post.
Ticktin was careful to note the distinction: Peters would not be pardoned. It would be a commutation of her sentence. That matters. A commutation shortens the punishment. A pardon erases the conviction. Peters would still carry the felony record, but she would no longer be locked in a cell for nearly a decade over charges that earned a Democratic state senator nothing more than probation.
When asked about the timing, Ticktin offered cautious optimism: "Perhaps, today."
Polis, for his part, left himself room to maneuver, saying he has extended the clemency deadline to April 3rd and framing the Peters case as part of a broader review of sentencing disparities:
"I will be making decisions on these cases throughout the remainder of my governorship."
The Peters case has always carried a charge that extends well beyond Mesa County. She became a symbol for conservatives who watched a local elections clerk receive a prison sentence that dwarfed what violent offenders routinely get in progressive jurisdictions. Nine years for a non-violent first offender. In a state where actual criminals cycle through revolving-door courtrooms with a slap on the wrist.
Now the Lewis case has given even a Democratic governor reason to acknowledge the disparity. That's not a political calculation. It's arithmetic. Same charge. Same number of felony counts. One woman goes home. One goes to prison for nine years. The system either applies its standards evenly, or it admits it doesn't have standards at all.
Polis may be arriving at this realization late, and he may be arriving for his own reasons. But the destination is correct. Tina Peters has served time that no comparable offender in Colorado has been asked to serve. If the governor follows through, it won't be a favor. It will be a correction.
Katherine Hartley Short, the 42-year-old daughter of comedian Martin Short, died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head, according to a death certificate obtained by TMZ and released by the Los Angeles County Department of Public Health on Tuesday.
The document confirms what had been reported in the days following her Feb. 23 death at her Hollywood Hills home. Katherine, a social worker, was reportedly found behind a locked bedroom door with a note and a gun nearby. Her body was discovered after a close friend called authorities, having not heard from her in 24 hours.
The Los Angeles Fire Department responded to a reported shooting at Katherine's Hollywood Hills address at approximately 6:41 p.m. and confirmed that the death of a female had been reported.
According to the outlet, Katherine has been cremated.
Martin Short and his late wife, Nancy Dolman, adopted Katherine in 1982, as Page Six reported. The couple also adopted two sons, Oliver Patrick, now 39, and Henry Hayter, now 36. Dolman died from cancer in 2010 at the age of 58.
Katherine legally changed her name to Katherine Hartley in 2012. It was reported that she had picked up a service dog in the years leading up to her death to assist with her mental illness.
A neighbor described Katherine to Us Weekly in warm terms:
"Katherine was a private person, but that doesn't mean she wasn't friendly."
The neighbor added that she was "quite outgoing."
The "Only Murders in the Building" star has kept a low profile since his daughter's passing. A representative for Short confirmed the news to Page Six:
"It is with profound grief that we confirm the passing of Katherine Hartley Short."
The family's statement asked for privacy and remembered Katherine for "the light and joy she brought into the world."
Short postponed a series of comedy shows with Steve Martin in the wake of Katherine's death. He was also absent from the SAG Actor Awards 2026 on Sunday night.
There is no political angle here. No policy debate to be won. Sometimes a story simply asks us to sit with the gravity of what happened.
A father lost his daughter. A family that had already buried a wife and mother now carries another loss that no amount of fame or success can soften. Mental illness claimed a young woman who, by all accounts, was trying to get help. She had a service dog. She had a career helping others as a social worker. She had people who loved her.
None of it was enough, and that is the cruelest truth about the crisis of mental health in this country. It does not care about your family name, your support system, or your zip code. It finds people in Hollywood Hills homes and rural towns alike.
Katherine Hartley Short was 42 years old. She deserved more time.
Three people are dead and more than a dozen wounded after a gunman opened fire at a bar scene in Austin on Sunday morning, and the two leading candidates in the Texas Democrat Senate primary have yet to utter the words "Islamic terrorism."
Ndiaga Diagne, 53, carried out the attack wearing a hoodie with the words "property of Allah" emblazoned on the front. Police searching his home with a warrant later discovered an Iranian flag and photos of Islamic leaders. Diagne was shot dead by local police.
Austin Police Chief Lisa Davis said her department had invited federal authorities to investigate the attack as a possible act of terrorism:
"We're looking at the totality of this. We see these indicators, we're thinking about events and what's occurring in the country as well. The motives – all of those things, that's what the investigation is about right now."
The shooting came just a day ahead of the Texas Senate primary and in the shadow of strikes carried out by the U.S. and Israel on Saturday that targeted Iran's military leadership and killed its supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. The timing alone should have sharpened every candidate's focus. Instead, the Democrat frontrunners reached for the same stale playbook they always do.
According to Fox News, James Talarico, one of the two Democrat frontrunners, chose to focus on prayer and gun control. In an interview with MS Now, he turned the tragedy into a sermon against his own voters:
"I believe in the power of prayer. I believe prayer changes lives. But there is something profoundly cynical in asking God to solve a problem we're not willing to solve ourselves."
He followed that by claiming God had "sent lawmakers with commonsense gun safety proposals like universal background checks, red flag laws." Talarico did acknowledge that the U.S. should prevent "dangerous people from entering the country," but spent his airtime doubling down on red flag proposals rather than addressing what the evidence at the crime scene plainly suggested.
Rep. Jasmine Crockett, who announced her run in the Democrat primary for U.S. Senate on Dec. 8, 2025, took a different but equally evasive route. She warned viewers on TikTok:
"Listen, every time there's some crazy situation like this, black folks sit around and say, 'Oh, I hope they're not black,' because we know that's going to be an additional target on our backs. We know that the immigrant community was probably holding their breath and saying, 'Oh, I hope it wasn't an immigrant.'"
Crockett then pivoted to a familiar statistical claim, asserting that "the vast majority" of mass shooters have been White, male, and homegrown. She did not explain how that insight, even if accurate, would have prevented a 53-year-old man in an "property of Allah" hoodie from killing three people in Austin. She did not address any mention of Islamic terrorism. She did not engage with what the police actually found in the suspect's home.
What she did say was direct enough:
"We need to actually do something about guns. Don't sit there and say that it's the immigrants. Maybe it's your lax laws when it comes to guns."
Neither Talarico's nor Crockett's campaign replied to a request for comment.
Notice the structure. A man wearing Islamic insignia murders three Texans. Police find an Iranian flag in his home. Federal authorities are called in to investigate terrorism. And the Democrat response is to talk about background checks and the racial demographics of mass shooters.
This is not a failure of messaging. It is the messaging. The left has constructed a rhetorical framework in which Islamic terrorism simply cannot be named, because naming it would validate the conservative position on border security, vetting, and immigration enforcement. So they change the subject. Every single time.
Gun control becomes the universal solvent. No matter the motive, no matter the ideology, no matter what is stitched across the killer's chest, the answer is always the same: red flag laws, universal background checks, and a lecture about prayer. The facts of the individual case become irrelevant. The template was written before the bodies were cold.
RNC spokesman Zach Kraft did not mince words:
"Absolutely disgusting stuff. James Talarico and Jasmine Crockett are blaming hardworking Texans who go to church and lawfully own guns, instead of the radical Islamic terrorist who committed this heinous act."
The contrast from the Republican side could not have been sharper. GOP Sen. John Cornyn, speaking with Fox News Digital in San Antonio on Sunday, went straight to the core issue:
"Part of the problem is that the Biden administration, for four years, had open border policies and let who knows what into the country."
Cornyn emphasized that the current challenge is not about new arrivals. President Trump has secured the border. The question now is what to do about those already here and "what happens when people become radicalized."
Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton, speaking in Waco, acknowledged the difficulty of the problem honestly:
"There's no system that's perfect. If we have immigration, there's going to be no system that's perfect. We do need to do a better job of vetting people, and Congress is going to have to figure out how to do that."
Paxton pointed to the scale of the problem, noting that the burden of illegal immigration has made it harder for law enforcement to keep track of everyone. When millions enter the country outside legal channels, the system strains. That is not a talking point. That is arithmetic.
GOP Senate candidate Rep. Wesley Hunt, a West Point graduate who flew Apache helicopters in combat and is a rising MAGA star in his second term in Congress, was the most direct of all. Speaking Monday night in suburban Houston, Hunt laid the blame squarely where it belongs:
"This is what happened when you had four years of an open border. This is what happens when 20 million people enter your country illegally. You have no idea what they are. This is what happens when you have a derelict of duty at the top of the ticket with leadership. And this is why President Trump, quite frankly, got elected. He got elected because he wanted to fix the immigration system."
While the suspect's specific motives remain under investigation, the material evidence is not ambiguous. The clothing. The flag. The photographs. Federal authorities do not get invited to investigate a bar fight.
The question facing Texas voters on primary day is simple: When the evidence points to Islamic terrorism, do you want a senator who says the words or one who talks about red flag laws?
Talarico and Crockett had every opportunity to address the terrorism indicators, express concern about radicalization, and still advocate for whatever gun policies they believe in. They chose not to. Not because the evidence was unclear, but because their ideological commitments will not permit the conclusion the evidence suggests.
Three Texans are dead. A man wearing "property of Allah" killed them. And two people who want to represent Texas in the United States Senate could not bring themselves to say so.