The Trump administration permanently installed four senior leaders at the Food and Drug Administration and created a first-of-its-kind deputy commissioner role for artificial intelligence, a move aimed at stabilizing an agency that has suffered months of turnover and internal friction.
Acting FDA Commissioner Kyle Diamantas announced the appointments on Tuesday, naming a psychiatrist, a former pharmaceutical executive, a longtime agency attorney, and a tech entrepreneur to run key divisions that oversee drug approvals, biologics, tobacco regulation, and emerging technology. The picks transition several acting leaders into permanent roles and signal the administration's intent to lock in its regulatory direction before a new commissioner is confirmed.
The shakeup follows the resignation of Marty Makary, President Trump's first FDA commissioner of his second term, who stepped down in May. Makary's tenure was marked by clashes with career staff, disputes with the biotechnology industry, and review decisions that drew accusations of political interference. His departure left the agency adrift at a moment when drug-approval backlogs and workforce losses had already rattled the pharmaceutical sector.
Michael Davis, a psychiatrist who had been serving in an acting capacity, will permanently lead the Center for Drug Evaluation and Research, the FDA's largest division and the gateway for most prescription drug approvals in the United States. The Hill reported that Davis is one of several acting leaders now transitioning into the jobs on a permanent basis.
Karim Mikhail, a former Merck official, takes over the Center for Biologics Evaluation and Research, the division responsible for vaccines, blood products, and gene therapies. Unnamed industry groups have called Mikhail "a stabilizing force," a label that carries weight given what happened under his predecessor.
Vinay Prasad, who previously ran the biologics center, oversaw a period in which hundreds of workers left the division, morale dropped, and at least five drugs that advocates and the FDA itself had previously considered promising were rejected. Mikhail inherits a division that needs rebuilding, and the industry's early praise suggests the private sector sees his appointment as a course correction.
Bret Koplow, an attorney who has worked at the FDA since 2011, will lead the Center for Tobacco Products. Koplow's fifteen-year tenure inside the agency makes him the most institutionally rooted of the four picks, a contrast to the outsider-heavy staffing choices that defined the early months of the administration's FDA overhaul.
The administration's broadest structural move is the creation of a brand-new deputy commissioner role for technology and artificial intelligence. Jared Seehafer, an entrepreneur who founded a life science software company and first joined the FDA in 2025 as an adviser, will fill the position. The Department of Health and Human Services said the new role reflects the administration's commitment to speeding up AI adoption and building a regulatory framework for emerging technologies. That effort fits a broader pattern of the Trump White House asserting executive authority to reshape how federal agencies operate.
Diamantas, who has led the FDA in an acting capacity since Makary's exit, cast the appointments as more than administrative housekeeping.
"These selections are not just about filling leadership roles, they signal the direction we are heading."
He also said the new leaders will help the agency "attract and retain best-in-class talent" and build a workforce capable of accelerating innovation across the FDA's centers. For an agency that watched hundreds of employees walk out the door under previous leadership, the retention pitch matters as much as the policy agenda.
The administration has also nominated Heidi Overton to serve as the permanent FDA commissioner. If confirmed, she would take charge of an agency that critics across the political spectrum have described as less trustworthy and more politicized than at any point in recent memory. Her confirmation timeline remains unclear.
Makary's resignation in May capped a turbulent stretch. His clashes with career FDA staff and disagreements with the biotech industry left the agency without a stable chain of command during a period when drug companies, patient advocates, and congressional overseers all wanted answers about delayed approvals and shifting review standards. The administration's decision to move quickly on permanent appointments, rather than let acting leaders linger indefinitely, suggests the White House recognized the cost of that vacuum.
The broader Trump administration has not been shy about making permanent, consequential moves across the federal government. The president has pursued sweeping deals on energy and foreign policy, and the health arena has seen its own wave of lasting changes, including a push by the administration's allies to remove artificial additives from the American food supply.
Still, open questions remain. It is unclear whether any of the four permanent appointees require Senate confirmation, or whether the newly created deputy commissioner role carries the same confirmation requirements as other senior FDA positions. The specific drugs Prasad rejected, and whether any of those decisions will be revisited under new leadership, also remain unanswered.
And the FDA's credibility problem did not start with Makary. Years of pandemic-era controversies, shifting guidance, and perceived institutional arrogance eroded public trust long before the current administration arrived. Rebuilding that trust requires more than new names on office doors. It requires leaders willing to make tough calls and accept accountability for the results.
Permanent leadership is a start. Whether these four deliver the competence and transparency the FDA owes the public is the only test that matters.
A California sea lion died at San Francisco’s Crissy Field as marine rescuers faced a sharp rise in suspected domoic acid poisonings along the coast.
Callers reported the distressed animal at about 8 a.m. Monday. It was weaving its head and suffering seizures on the beach east of the Golden Gate Bridge.
The Marine Mammal Center sent a trained responder and began organizing a rescue team. The sea lion died before that team could complete the rescue, and tests had not yet confirmed what killed it.
Samples were taken to determine whether domoic acid caused the symptoms or death. As in any unexplained death investigation, the pending test results matter: suspicion is not proof.
Domoic acid can cause seizures and heart failure in sea lions. Those known effects matched some of the distress seen at Crissy Field, but the center had not received test results Monday.
That distinction should remain clear. The animal died during a documented coastal surge, yet the individual cause of death remained an open question.
NBC Bay Area reported that the problem stretched well beyond San Francisco. About 40 sea lions had been rescued in Monterey County and southern Santa Cruz County since Aug. 24.
Additional rescues occurred in San Mateo, San Francisco, Marin and Sonoma counties. The center said it had already passed its usual annual total of 75 to 90 domoic acid rescues.
Pending laboratory work often separates an early theory from a final finding. That same need for firm answers applies across breaking cases, including the recent Kansas City death case covered by this publication.
The Marine Mammal Center covers 600 miles of California coastline. During the current surge, its hotline has received three to six times its normal call volume, with nearly 700 calls on some days.
The center described the pressure in a statement published by NBC Bay Area:
“As we are currently seeing intense surges of domoic acid along the California coast, our hotline is inundated with reports of animals in need to the tune of 3-6x our normal call volume, with some days seeing nearly 700 calls,”
Those numbers show why prompt public reports matter. They also show the limits facing responders when emergencies arrive across hundreds of miles at once.
The center urged people to stay away from stranded or distressed marine mammals and to keep pets back as well. Reports can be made from Mendocino County to San Luis Obispo County at 415-289-SEAL (7325).
The Crissy Field case joins other recent reports in which a confirmed death left key questions unanswered, including the Athens suitcase investigation. In San Francisco, the central unanswered question is whether testing will tie this sea lion’s death to domoic acid.
Public warnings should be clear, and official conclusions should rest on evidence. Responsible authorities owe the public both urgency and accuracy.
Sen. John Fetterman is fighting back against a Wall Street Journal exposé that used his own text messages to document a pattern of skipped meetings and indifference toward constituents, but the rebuttal may be raising more questions than it answers.
The Pennsylvania Democrat issued a statement over the weekend calling the report a collection of "lies, half-truths, innuendos, smears and anonymous" attacks from disgruntled former employees. The Wall Street Journal report cited leaked text messages and accounts from former aides who described a senator with little interest in the basic work of representing Pennsylvania, from constituent meetings to public appearances to legislative review.
Fetterman's defense follows a now-familiar script. This marks the third time he has publicly attributed critical coverage to "disgruntled staffers." But the texts, his own words, sent from his own phone, are harder to wave away than anonymous quotes.
The most damaging material in the Journal's report isn't secondhand gossip. It's Fetterman's own messages to his staff. In one exchange, an aide explained that officials from Children's Hospital of Philadelphia wanted to meet because they were "worried about Medicaid cuts." Fetterman's reply: "Well, I'm not." In another message, he asked his staff why he had to "keep having to meet" with CHOP officials at all.
CHOP is one of the most prominent pediatric hospitals in the country. Medicaid funding is a life-or-death policy issue for the families it serves. A senator who represents Philadelphia dismissing those concerns in a text message is not a matter of tone, it's a matter of priorities.
Fetterman acknowledged the CHOP exchange in his statement to CNN, calling it a "dumb joke" and offering what he described as a sincere apology. He added:
"My office and I always have, and always will, advocate for CHOP, support their requests and any other needs that we can assist with."
He also posted a photo on X showing meetings with CHOP officials, though the Journal report's timeline and the text messages suggest those meetings were ones his staff had to push him to attend.
Last September, three police officers were killed near York, Pennsylvania, Fetterman's hometown. The Journal report revealed that Fetterman texted his staff about the funeral service, writing, "This may be a nonstarter," citing the service's three-hour length. He did not attend.
In his statement, Fetterman said his office "privately ordered flowers to be delivered for their families" and that he "expressed my condolences publicly", pointing to a post on X. He also said he attended a Tunnel to Towers fundraiser in York in June for the officers' families, where he met with the police chief and family members directly.
Flowers and a social media post are not the same as standing with a grieving community at a funeral. The families of fallen officers, the kind of people who show up for three-hour services because the sacrifice demands it, deserved more than a text message calling the event a "nonstarter." Fetterman's later attendance at a fundraiser months afterward does not erase the initial refusal. It underscores it.
Fetterman's shifting political alignment has earned him some goodwill on the right, but goodwill built on rhetoric has to be backed by conduct. Skipping a police funeral in your own hometown tests that proposition.
Perhaps the most striking episode in the Journal's report involves three paralyzed Pennsylvania veterans who traveled to meet with Fetterman to discuss healthcare legislation. Fetterman's staff told the veterans the senator wasn't feeling well and couldn't make it. Roughly one hour later, Fetterman showed up at his office appearing fine, and conducted an interview on Fox News.
Fetterman's explanation to CNN:
"Prior to the meeting I was at home throwing up, so I asked my staff to continue with the meeting which they did. Hours later, I felt well enough to continue the day as scheduled."
The Journal's account says Fetterman appeared approximately one hour later, not "hours later." That gap matters. Paralyzed veterans who made the effort to come to Washington to talk about their healthcare don't deserve to be told the senator is too sick to see them while he recovers in time for a cable news appearance. The optics alone would sink most politicians. The facts are worse.
Fetterman said it was his "intention" to meet with the group. Intentions don't count for much when the veterans are already in the building and the camera crew gets priority.
Fetterman has now used the phrase "disgruntled staffers" to explain away three separate rounds of critical reporting. In May 2025, he told CNN that an earlier New York Magazine story relied on former employees with a "weird grudge." That Magazine piece had reported on a 2024 letter from Adam Jentleson, Fetterman's former chief of staff, raising concerns about the senator's behavior and mental health.
Jentleson, who left Fetterman's office and has spoken publicly about his concerns, noted on X last week that the Journal's reporting drew on "an entirely new group of staff who have rotated in and apparently find themselves horrified at Fetterman's behavior." That distinction matters. If the complaints came from one bitter ex-aide, the "disgruntled" label might stick. When successive waves of staffers, people who chose to work for Fetterman, reach the same conclusion independently, the common denominator isn't the staff.
Now a group of those former campaign and Senate staffers has created an anonymous X account called "Former Fetterman Staffers," promising to release damaging insider details beginning September 14. The account has described the Journal report as the "tip of the iceberg." Anonymous accounts carry obvious credibility risks, but the sheer number of former aides willing to go on record, or near-record, suggests something deeper than a grudge.
Multiple Pennsylvania Democratic officials have already condemned Fetterman publicly. Rep. Brendan Boyle, a Pennsylvania Democrat, did not hold back:
"John Fetterman is a disgrace. Our state deserves better than a lazy trust fund baby who is too lazy to do the job."
Former Rep. Conor Lamb went further, calling on Fetterman to resign outright:
"John, if there is a decent bone left in your body, just quit. It's an insult to decent people in our state for you to treat them and the office this way."
Those are Democrats talking about their own senator. A DNC vice chair also joined the condemnation, along with two sitting Pennsylvania House Democrats. The party that sent Fetterman to Washington is now openly asking whether he belongs there.
In a notable twist, Fetterman's strongest public defender over the weekend was not a fellow Democrat but Pennsylvania's Republican senator, Dave McCormick. On X, McCormick called the stories "the latest example of outrageously disloyal staff and forces on the Left using anonymous leaks to cancel my friend John Fetterman."
"They hate that he is an independent thinker who refuses to fall into line so they want to silence him."
McCormick vowed to continue working with Fetterman on bipartisan measures. The two senators have built an unusual cross-aisle relationship, Fetterman has even pledged not to campaign against McCormick in his next race.
McCormick's framing, that this is a left-wing effort to punish Fetterman for ideological independence, has some basis. Fetterman has broken with his party on Israel, Iran, immigration, and crime. He told the New York Post flatly, "I am not woke," rejected squatters' rights as "crazy" and "breaking the law," and split with Senate Democratic leadership by disagreeing with Chuck Schumer's call for new Israeli elections. In July, he warned he would leave the Democratic Party entirely if it adopts an anti-Israel policy.
That ideological drift has fueled persistent party-switch speculation, and it has clearly made him a target within progressive circles. Former staffers who disagree with his positions on Israel and immigration are among those cited in the Journal report as sources.
But McCormick's defense, however generous, doesn't answer the specific allegations. Leaked text messages aren't "anonymous leaks" in the usual sense, they're documentary evidence. And the question of whether Fetterman skipped a police funeral or blew off paralyzed veterans isn't about ideology. It's about whether he's doing the job.
Fetterman faces sagging approval ratings within his own party. His first-term record now includes a six-week hospitalization for clinical depression in 2023, something he has been open about, followed by an increasingly public break with Democratic orthodoxy on issue after issue. The combination of personal health struggles, ideological realignment, and now a staff revolt has left his political future uncertain.
A potential 2028 reelection bid looms. Fetterman would need to hold together some coalition of voters in a state that has trended competitive. Right now, his own party's officials are calling him a disgrace, his former staff is organizing against him on social media, and the broader Democratic apparatus is consumed by its own internal dysfunction.
Fetterman told CNN he remains "proud to continue to deliver for Pennsylvania." The text messages suggest the delivery has been spotty at best.
His willingness to break ranks with his party on policy has earned real respect from voters who value independence over partisan loyalty. But independence on policy is one thing. Indifference toward the people you represent is another, and no amount of blaming the staff who noticed will change that.
Pennsylvanians elected a senator, not a commentator. If Fetterman wants to keep the job, he might start by showing up for it.
A 63-year-old retired Oklahoma man was killed when his vehicle hit a group of wild hogs and overturned, a tragedy that highlights the growing dangers of feral swine on America’s rural roads.
Roger Gregory Cummings, who had recently retired after more than four decades at Marlow Lumber Company, died late Wednesday night after colliding with a pack of 10 feral hogs in Stephens County, Oklahoma, about 90 miles south of Oklahoma City. The crash sent his vehicle into a ditch, through a fence, and ultimately caused it to roll over, crushing Cummings beneath it. He was pronounced dead at the scene, according to the New York Post.
Oklahoma Highway Patrol reported that Cummings was not wearing a seatbelt at the time of the crash. There were no other reported injuries, and the exact time and location within Stephens County have not been disclosed. The collision marks a grim milestone in a state where wildlife crashes are common but rarely deadly, according to those who knew Cummings.
Barbara Johnson, owner of Marlow Lumber Company, described Cummings as “part of our family here.” She told the Daily Mail, “People hit wildlife all the time, but we don’t get fatalities often.” Johnson said the loss had “shocked and saddened” the community and that their “thoughts are with his wife and son.”
Cummings had just celebrated his 40-year wedding anniversary with his wife, Soyna, and his retirement from Marlow Lumber Company in June. The obituary published by Callaway-Smith-Cobb Funeral and Cremation Services reflected the deep ties he had to his family and the local community.
The Oklahoma Wildlife Department notes that feral swine have been detected in 70 of Oklahoma’s 77 counties. These invasive animals are not just a nuisance, they are a growing hazard for rural drivers, as Cummings’ fatal accident demonstrates. The department’s website lays out the widespread presence of these animals, underscoring the risk they pose to both property and public safety across the state.
While the precise fate of the hogs involved in this collision is unknown, the ongoing spread of feral swine has prompted concerns from landowners and public officials alike. The fact that such a large group of animals could cross a rural road undetected, leading to a fatal wreck, is a sobering reminder of the unique dangers rural Americans face, dangers that often go ignored by policymakers more focused on urban priorities.
Collisions with wildlife have long been a fact of life in rural America, but as the feral hog population explodes, so do the risks. Fatalities remain rare, but as Johnson put it, “we don’t get fatalities often.” The death of a man who had just begun his retirement years after a lifetime of hard work is a blow to his family and his community, and a wake-up call for lawmakers who have neglected the issue of invasive species management and rural road safety.
Similar to the uncertainties and sudden losses that have captured national attention in other recent stories, like the sudden death of a public figure or the confusion surrounding conflicting reports about a senator’s health, the shock of this event is compounded by its unpredictability and the lack of clear answers about prevention.
Despite the details provided by Oklahoma Highway Patrol and the Daily Mail’s reporting, several questions remain unanswered. The exact date and time of the crash are not specified, nor is the precise location within Stephens County. It is also unclear how quickly the scene was discovered, what happened to the hogs after the collision, or whether any government response will follow this latest tragedy. The lack of seatbelt use was noted, but with an animal strike of this size, it is uncertain what difference, if any, it would have made in this case.
The incident also raises fresh concerns about the impact of invasive animals and the adequacy of rural infrastructure and emergency response when lives are at stake. Just as the nation has been forced to confront disturbing stories of animal-related deaths in other contexts, such as the recent animal cruelty case in Florida, this Oklahoma tragedy spotlights the need for serious, practical action, not just words.
As the feral swine problem grows, so does the risk to rural families simply driving home from work or heading out at night. Oklahoma’s experience is a warning to the rest of the country: when government fails to keep up with invasive species and ignores rural road safety, it’s ordinary Americans who pay the price. For too long, rural problems have been an afterthought in statehouses and Washington alike, a theme seen not just in wildlife management, but in the handling of public health, infrastructure, and even high-profile political events, from Senate absences to presidential appearances.
When the headlines fade, it’s families like the Cummings who are left to pick up the pieces, and a state still searching for answers on how to make its backroads safer for everyone.
A Philippine trial court issued an arrest warrant for Vice President Sara Duterte on three counts of grave threats after she publicly claimed to have hired an assassin to target President Ferdinand Marcos Jr.
The Quezon City Regional Trial Court handed down the warrant on Friday, capping a months-long legal and political unraveling for Duterte that has already cost her an impeachment vote in the Philippine House of Representatives and landed her in a Senate trial that began in July. Bail was set at $1,900 per count, roughly $5,700 total, and her attorney said she would pay it and fight the charges in court.
The charges trace back to a November 2024 online press conference in which Duterte told viewers she had retained the services of an assassin to kill Marcos, his wife Liza Araneta-Marcos, and Martin Romualdez, who was speaker of the Philippine House at the time. The threat was conditional: Duterte said the assassin would act if anything happened to her. Philippine national police and the military responded by increasing protective details around the president, and prosecutors eventually filed three counts of issuing grave threats, one for each person named.
The November press conference was not an isolated outburst. A month earlier, in October 2024, Duterte said she "wanted to cut his head off," referring to Marcos. She also claimed she had told the president's sister she would dig up the corpse of former president Ferdinand Marcos Sr. and "throw it in the West Philippine Sea." Those remarks drew international attention and set the stage for the more explicit threat that followed weeks later.
Duterte later tried to walk back the comments, arguing they had been taken out of context. Breitbart News reported that she framed the statements as rhetorical, asking:
"Why would I kill him if not for revenge from the grave? There is no reason for me to kill him. What's the benefit for me?"
Prosecutors and the court were not persuaded. The warrant came down Friday after the court heard oral arguments the prior week on a defense motion challenging the tribunal's jurisdiction. Duterte's legal team invoked what it called the "limited procedural immunity" of the vice-presidential office, but the court moved forward with the warrant regardless. It remains unclear whether the jurisdiction challenge has been formally ruled upon or is still pending.
Sara Duterte and Ferdinand Marcos Jr. took their oaths of office together in June 2022, running as political allies. That alliance disintegrated. The two leaders clashed over policy, political turf, and the future of Mindanao, the southern island that serves as the home base of the Duterte political dynasty. Marcos's wife, Liza Araneta-Marcos, was described as particularly open about her disdain for the Dutertes, adding a personal dimension to the political breach.
By May of this year, the Philippine House of Representatives impeached Duterte. The charges included financial impropriety, though the specific allegations were not detailed in available reporting. Her Senate trial has been underway since July, and a conviction there could permanently disqualify her from holding public office.
The arrest warrant adds a separate criminal track to the political proceedings already in motion. Duterte's attorney, Paul Lawrency Lim, issued a statement Friday acknowledging the warrant while signaling defiance:
"Today, the Quezon City RTC has issued a warrant of arrest against the Vice President. Regardless of the question on jurisdiction, she has no intention of evading the law and will continue to exercise all her legal remedies."
Marcos cannot run for reelection under Philippine term limits, and he has reportedly identified a proxy candidate for the post-2028 presidential race. His administration has positioned itself as pro-American, a posture underscored by a bilateral meeting between Marcos and President Donald Trump in the Oval Office on July 22, 2025. The Duterte family, by contrast, has long drawn political strength from a more populist, nationalist base centered on Mindanao.
Sara Duterte's father, former president Rodrigo Duterte, faces his own legal exposure. He confronts allegations of crimes against humanity connected to the anti-drug campaign he waged during his presidency. The elder Duterte's legal situation adds another layer of pressure on a political family that, just four years ago, shared power at the highest levels of the Philippine government.
It was not immediately clear why the Quezon City court chose this particular moment to issue the warrant. Duterte had not fled the country or signaled any intent to do so, and her legal team had been actively contesting the court's authority to hear the case. Whether she posted bail on Friday or simply announced her intention to do so was also unconfirmed.
When a sitting vice president publicly announces she has hired someone to carry out a killing, the legal system is supposed to respond, and in the Philippines, however belatedly, it did.
Hate crimes against Jewish New Yorkers have jumped sharply in 2026, now accounting for more than half of all confirmed hate crimes in the city, and local Jewish leaders point directly at Mayor Zohran Mamdani's anti-Israel rhetoric as fuel for the rise.
NYPD crime statistics show 425 hate crimes in New York City during the first eight months of 2026, up from 367 in the same period last year, a 15.8% increase. Anti-Jewish hate crimes specifically climbed 8%, with more than 200 incidents targeting Jewish residents so far this year, even though Jewish New Yorkers make up roughly 10% of the city's population. The New York Post reported that anti-Jewish incidents accounted for more than half of all confirmed hate crimes in that span.
Those numbers land at a moment of heightened anxiety. The Jewish High Holy Days begin in early September, coinciding this year with the 25th anniversary of the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks. Nationwide, authorities have urged increased police patrols around synagogues and Jewish schools, a reflection of a threat environment that extends well beyond New York. Jews are the target of 63% of anti-religious hate crimes across the country, according to the Post's reporting, despite making up less than 3% of the overall U.S. population.
Local Jewish leaders have drawn a straight line between the mayor's public statements and the surge in attacks. As the New York Post reported, those leaders "have blamed Mamdani's outspoken rhetoric against Israel, including accusing the Jewish state of committing a 'genocide' in Gaza and calling for the arrest of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, for the dramatic uptick in antisemitic attacks."
That accusation carries weight because Mamdani has not been a passive bystander on the issue. He has used his platform to press an aggressive anti-Israel line, framing the conflict in Gaza in the most incendiary terms available to a public official. Calling for the arrest of a sitting allied head of state is not standard mayoral business. It is a deliberate political choice, and Jewish New Yorkers appear to be absorbing the consequences.
Mamdani's broader tenure has been defined by a pattern of progressive policy moves that prioritize ideological ambition over the concerns of ordinary residents. His fast-track housing court plan, which effectively told struggling landlords to surrender their buildings, drew sharp criticism from property owners across the city.
The hate crime data is not abstract. This summer, a Jewish man was stabbed in New York City. The accused attacker allegedly yelled "Allahu Akbar" during the assault and reportedly also stabbed an Asian man. Mamdani's first public reaction, as reported by Breitbart, was to attribute the attack to the assailant's "mental health."
Dismissing a stabbing accompanied by a religious declaration as a mental health episode is a familiar move from progressive leaders who prefer to avoid uncomfortable questions about motive. It is also a move that Jewish New Yorkers, more than 200 hate crimes into the year, have every reason to find inadequate.
The mayor's approach to governing has drawn controversy on multiple fronts. His public talk of free bus rides contributed to a fare-skipping wave that cost the MTA tens of millions in lost revenue, burdening the very transit system working-class New Yorkers depend on.
And his $70 million taxpayer-funded grocery store initiative provoked enough backlash that an immigrant-owned business coalition prepared a lawsuit against the city, arguing the program undercut the private operators already serving those neighborhoods.
None of this is incidental. It is the record of a mayor who governs by ideological reflex, and whose reflexes consistently point away from the people absorbing the costs.
The timing of this data makes it especially pointed. Jewish families preparing for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are doing so in a city where hate crimes against them are rising, where the mayor has publicly aligned himself against Israel in the sharpest possible terms, and where a stabbing victim's suffering was waved off as a mental health matter.
The convergence of the High Holy Days with the September 11 anniversary, the 25th, adds another layer of security concern. Across the country, calls for heightened police presence around synagogues and Jewish schools reflect a reality that Jewish communities have lived with for years but that has grown more acute under leaders who treat anti-Israel posturing as cost-free politics.
Mamdani has also positioned himself in open defiance of federal authority on immigration, vowing that New York City would "not ever accept" a Supreme Court ruling on Temporary Protected Status. That posture, picking fights with the federal judiciary while hate crimes climb in his own city, captures the priorities of an administration that treats national headlines as more important than neighborhood safety.
The disproportion in the numbers tells its own story. Jewish New Yorkers are 10% of the city. They account for more than half of its hate crime victims. Nationally, Jews are less than 3% of the population but bear 63% of anti-religious hate crimes. Those ratios do not need editorial commentary. They need a mayor willing to address them honestly, and to consider whether his own words have made the problem worse.
New Yorkers voted for Zohran Mamdani. The city's Jewish residents are living with what that vote produced.
The U.S. House passed a bill requiring courts to impose permanent no-contact orders on convicted sex offenders and violent felons, a measure born from one Arizona mother's years-long fight to keep her abuser away.
Not a single member of Congress voted against it. H.R. 8481, the Kayleigh's Law Act of 2026, cleared the House on Monday with unanimous support, sending the bill to the Senate and marking a rare moment of bipartisan agreement on a measure that would permanently bar convicted offenders in federal sex crime and violent felony cases from contacting their victims, directly or indirectly, for the rest of their lives. No expiration when probation ends. No sunset when supervised release runs out. For life.
Rep. Abe Hamadeh, the Arizona Republican and former prosecutor who sponsored the bill, told Fox News Digital the legislation fills a gap that has forced survivors to return to court repeatedly just to keep basic protections in place.
"This is a common-sense type of bill where we're supporting victims, and we're prioritizing victims over criminals."
The bill is named for Kayleigh Kozak, an Arizona mother of five who was sexually abused at age twelve by Joshua Jacobsen, her teacher and soccer coach. Jacobsen pleaded guilty to sexual abuse and luring a minor for sexual exploitation. A court sentenced him to six months in jail and lifetime probation. But the legal ordeal for Kozak was far from over.
Thirteen years after the abuse, Jacobsen sought to have the no-contact order lifted. Kozak was hauled back into a courtroom to fight it. The following year, he tried again. Each time, the woman who had been victimized as a child had to sit across from the man who abused her and argue for her own safety.
Hamadeh described the burden that arrangement places on survivors:
"Can you imagine that you have to sit across the room from this man? That's something a victim should never have to do."
Nearly two decades after his sentencing, Jacobsen went further. He asked a Maricopa County judge to terminate his probation entirely, arguing that eighteen years of conduct showed he had reformed and was ready to "move on." The judge denied the request in June 2026, citing probation violations that included unauthorized contact with children and breaches of chaperone restrictions. Jacobsen remains on lifetime probation under the supervision of Maricopa County Adult Probation.
Kozak testified before the Maricopa County court during those proceedings:
"I am living proof that he is capable of sexually harming children. He consciously chose to violate me, and he was convicted of committing a dangerous crime against a child while he was in a position of power."
Cases like Kozak's illustrate a pattern that extends well beyond Arizona. Across the country, convicted predators, including teachers who sexually assault students, serve their sentences and then use the legal system to claw back access to the people they harmed. Kayleigh's Law targets that cycle at the federal level.
Hamadeh first met Kozak about five years ago while he was running for Arizona attorney general. They crossed paths again outside an In-N-Out Burger during his congressional campaign. He made her a promise.
"I told Kayleigh, I said, 'Kayleigh, the moment I get to Congress, it's going to be one of my first bills that I get done.'"
Hamadeh, an Army veteran, called the bill's passage a kept promise. "Promise made, promise kept," he told Fox News Digital. "To actually see it done has been really wonderful." He credited Rep. Andy Biggs, a fellow Arizona Republican, with helping move the legislation through the House Judiciary Committee.
On the day the House voted, Kozak and her five children joined Hamadeh at the Capitol. She posted on X that the country was "one step closer" to giving victims of violent crimes the permanent protection they deserve.
"No victim should ever have to endure the h*** I had to walk through. When I discovered protection wasn't permanent, I knew it had to change."
Hamadeh said the bill does not raise due-process concerns because it applies only after a conviction. "This is not about the due process beforehand," he said. "They ultimately have to be found guilty of a crime." Once that threshold is met, the offender loses any ability to contact the victim, permanently.
The problem Kayleigh's Law addresses is not unique to the United States. In Britain, outdated legal frameworks have shielded convicted predators from deportation, leaving victims without the protection the law was supposed to guarantee. The federal gap that Hamadeh's bill targets works in a similar way: once a sentence or probation term expires, the legal shield for the victim can vanish.
Arizona already has a state version of Kayleigh's Law on the books. Hamadeh said more than one thousand survivors secured lifetime protection during the state law's first year. Wisconsin has passed its own version as well. The federal bill would extend the same principle to cases prosecuted under federal law.
In a statement after the vote, Hamadeh's office said the legislation aims to end the "legal tug-of-war" that forces survivors to face their attackers in court repeatedly just to maintain basic protections. Hamadeh put it more bluntly:
"Victims should never again have to fill out another form, sit across from their abuser, or look over their shoulder because the sentence ran out, and the system shrugged."
The bill now moves to the Senate, where Sen. Mike Lee, a Utah Republican, is leading the effort to advance it. Hamadeh expressed hope that it would reach President Trump's desk before November.
"It passed unanimously in the House. It should pass unanimously in the Senate," Hamadeh said. "We should fix this once and for all and be able to save victims so much of this trauma and this terror." He urged Americans to call their senators and ask them to bring Kayleigh's Law to the floor.
Too often, the legal system asks victims to keep proving they deserve protection from people already found guilty of harming them. In cases involving threatening behavior after criminal charges, the burden falls on the person who was harmed, not the person who did the harming. Kayleigh's Law flips that default.
Hamadeh framed the stakes plainly: "Justice is not complete if the victim still lives in fear. Arizona already closed that gap. It is time the federal government did the same."
A system that makes a twelve-year-old girl's abuser serve six months in jail, then lets him spend the next two decades trying to erase the record, is a system that protects the wrong person. The House voted 435-to-zero to fix it. The Senate should do the same.
Sen. Adam Schiff, the California Democrat who once led the first impeachment against President Trump, now says he is "in strong agreement with the President" on a federal film tax incentive, a rare bipartisan alignment driven by the loss of 49,000 entertainment jobs since 2022.
Trump posted on Truth Social calling on Congress to approve what he termed a "Federal Production Incentive" after meeting with actor and U.S. special ambassador to Hollywood Jon Voight. Schiff followed with his own post on X, urging lawmakers from both parties to act immediately. The two men have spent years as bitter adversaries. That they now share a public position on anything, let alone Hollywood economics, tells you how dire the situation has become for California's signature industry.
The entertainment sector has shed 49,000 jobs since 2022, Fox News Digital reported, citing Bureau of Labor Statistics data. The COVID-19 pandemic and the burst of the streaming bubble both contributed to the collapse. But the deeper problem is structural: other states and other countries simply offer better deals to lure productions away from California.
Georgia now allocates more than $1 billion in tax breaks for film and television productions. New York offers roughly $800 million. Canada and the United Kingdom have rolled out their own generous incentive packages. California, the historic capital of American entertainment, cannot keep up.
The California Legislature tried. Lawmakers voted to more than double the state's Film and Television Tax Credit Program to $750 million. But Gov. Gavin Newsom undercut the expansion by installing a $5 million state corporate tax credit cap over the next three years, a move that effectively limits what the bigger program can deliver to individual studios.
Trump put it bluntly on Truth Social:
"There is no incentive to be there, and it is hurting California very badly. Jon, and many others in the Industry, are suggesting we do Federal Tax Incentives in order to Make our Movie and Television Production Business GREAT AGAIN, perhaps GREATER THAN EVER BEFORE!"
He followed that with a direct call to congressional leaders from both parties, urging them to "craft Legislation to save the Movie, Television, and Entertainment Business in America." The president described Hollywood as "a complete and total disaster."
Schiff has maintained a strong opposition to Trump since the president retook office. He led the first impeachment effort. He has been among the most vocal Democratic critics of the administration on nearly every front. So when Schiff posted on X that he stood with Trump on this issue, it landed as something more than routine bipartisanship.
Schiff wrote on X:
"I am in strong agreement with the President. Congress should immediately take up and pass a federal film tax incentive to bring back these good-paying jobs that we've lost to other countries."
He added a direct appeal for cooperation:
"Let's work together, Republicans and Democrats, to get this done, and bring the movie magic back to America."
Schiff is not the only Democrat who has found himself siding with Trump in recent months. Sen. John Fetterman of Pennsylvania has broken with his party repeatedly, and his approval among Republican voters now outpaces that of some GOP officeholders in his own state.
Trump framed the proposal as a job-creation measure with broad geographic appeal, not just a bailout for Los Angeles. He wrote that a federal production incentive "can be done quickly, accurately, efficiently and, importantly, will benefit ALL of America."
Even with bipartisan interest, the legislative calendar works against quick action. Congress has a truncated schedule in September. The entire month of October is dedicated to campaigning for midterm elections. November officially launches the lame duck session, a period when outgoing members have little incentive to take on new fights and incoming members have no vote yet.
No specific bill or legislative text has been introduced. Trump's Truth Social post and Schiff's X post amount to public pressure, not a floor vote. The details that matter most, the percentage of the credit, which productions qualify, whether the incentive has a sunset clause, remain unaddressed.
That gap between rhetoric and legislation is where proposals like this tend to stall. Democrats who have crossed party lines to support Trump on trade policy have found that agreement in principle does not always translate into votes on a finished bill.
And the broader Democratic caucus is not exactly unified right now. Some senators have broken with decades of tradition on must-pass legislation, while others have openly floated presidential bids and called on the party to stand for something beyond opposition. Whether that internal fracturing makes bipartisan film legislation easier or harder is an open question.
The irony of Schiff's position is hard to miss. California's own governor, a fellow Democrat, made the state less competitive. The Legislature passed a $750 million expansion of the Film and Television Tax Credit Program. Newsom then imposed a $5 million corporate tax credit cap that limits how much any single company can claim over the next three years. For a major studio spending hundreds of millions on a single production, a $5 million cap is a rounding error.
Georgia, by contrast, has made itself the go-to destination for big-budget productions precisely because its incentive structure is large enough to matter. More than $1 billion in annual tax breaks sends a clear signal to studios: bring your money here, and we will make it worth your while. New York's $800 million program sends the same message.
California's response has been to pass a big number and then quietly limit its reach. That is the kind of policy contradiction that drives jobs out of a state, and it is exactly the kind of failure that pushes a senator like Schiff to agree with a president he has spent years opposing.
Trump, for his part, has made the entertainment industry a visible priority. His appointment of Jon Voight as U.S. special ambassador to Hollywood signaled that the administration sees the sector as both an economic and a cultural asset worth fighting for. Voight's meeting with the president preceded the Truth Social post, and Trump credited Voight and others in the industry for suggesting the federal incentive approach.
With midterm campaigning set to consume October and the president already rallying voters in key states, the window for serious legislative work is narrow. If Congress does not move before the lame duck session, the proposal risks becoming another good idea that arrived too late in the calendar to matter.
Forty-nine thousand lost jobs have a way of clarifying priorities. When a Democrat who impeached the president and a president who called Hollywood a disaster both land on the same answer, the only question left is whether Congress will act, or whether the jobs will keep leaving while Washington talks.
Lionel Messi announced his retirement from Argentina's national team on Monday, ending a 21-year international career marked by 125 goals and a World Cup title, a decision he said was sealed by his father's death weeks earlier.
The 39-year-old forward shared the news through a handwritten message on Instagram, photographs of notebook pages written in Spanish that he said he first drafted on July 21, two days after Argentina lost the 2026 World Cup final to Spain, 2-1, in extra time at MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford, New Jersey. More than 70,000 fans watched that match. Messi held the letter for weeks. Then his father, Jorge Messi, died on August 8 in Rosario, Argentina, and the decision became final.
ABC News reported that Messi addressed his message directly to Argentine fans, writing that the loss and the grief together brought him to the conclusion he had been weighing for weeks.
"It was a decision that hurt, and still hurts deeply, but I understand that the time has come. I swear to you that I always gave it my all, not just in these last few years when we won everything, but before that too."
That line captures the tone of the entire post: pride laced with pain. Messi did not frame the retirement as forced by age or declining play. He framed it as a choice he reached privately, reinforced by personal loss.
The timeline matters. Messi wrote the retirement letter on July 21, just 48 hours after the World Cup final. But he did not publish it. Breitbart reported that Messi delayed the announcement because his father was already facing serious health problems, problems that claimed Jorge Messi's life on August 8 at age 68.
When Messi finally posted the message on Monday, August 31, he made the connection explicit.
"I wrote these words on July 21, two days after the final. Today after my dad, I'm more convinced than before."
Jorge Messi had been a constant presence throughout his son's career. The elder Messi managed Lionel's early professional life and remained a central figure in the family. His death in Rosario added a private grief to what was already a difficult professional moment.
Messi is a father of three sons. The retirement post suggested a man stepping back not just from a team but from a chapter of life defined by relentless competition at the highest level.
The numbers tell the scale of what Messi leaves behind. AP News reported that Messi retires with 207 caps and 125 goals for Argentina, both all-time records for the country. Twenty-one of those goals came in World Cup matches across six tournaments. He is the highest-scoring man in South American soccer history.
The crown jewel was the 2022 World Cup in Qatar, where Messi led Argentina past France to claim the country's first World Cup title in more than 30 years. That victory cemented his place in the argument over the greatest player in the sport's history. It also gave him something he had chased for nearly two decades, a World Cup winner's medal.
High-profile athletes across sports have faced the question of when to walk away, and personal circumstances often tip the balance. Olympic champion Bode Miller's recent off-the-field troubles offer another reminder that even the most decorated careers eventually collide with life outside competition.
The 2026 World Cup final was supposed to be Messi's last chance at a second title. Speculation had built for months that the tournament could be his final one in an Argentina shirt. Spain ended that bid with a 2-1 extra-time victory in New Jersey, and Messi walked off the pitch for what turned out to be the last time in the blue-and-white stripes.
Argentina head coach Lionel Scaloni did not hold back about what the retirement means for the program. Fox News reported that Messi finishes with 98 international goals across six World Cups, a staggering run of consistency at the tournament level.
Scaloni offered a blunt assessment, as reported by AP News.
"He is pure history. History. A legend."
Those are not the words of a coach managing a difficult departure. They are the words of someone acknowledging that the player who just left is irreplaceable.
Messi's retirement applies only to international duty. He continues to play for Inter Miami CF in Major League Soccer, where he has been a forward since 2023. The New York Post noted that Messi remains an elite performer at the club level, suggesting the retirement was not driven by physical decline but by personal conviction and timing.
That distinction matters. This was not a player pushed out by injury or irrelevance. Messi chose to leave the national team while he could still compete. His Instagram message made clear he wanted to go on his own terms, not someone else's.
In his farewell, Messi thanked Argentine fans for two decades of support and told them he would now join them on the other side.
"Thank you for all the love of these 20 years. I am going to miss hearing you from the inside very much. Now I am going to be one of you, always encouraging and supporting from the outside."
He closed with a line that read less like a retirement statement and more like a love letter to his country.
"Thank you God for making me Argentine. Let's go Argentina!"
Newsmax reported that Messi's 20-year run with the national team ended with him as the undisputed greatest player in Argentine soccer history, a distinction no active player is positioned to challenge anytime soon.
A man who gave everything for his country's shirt decided the right time to take it off. He did it quietly, on notebook paper, after burying his father. That is how you leave.
California lawmakers have blocked Governor Gavin Newsom’s proposal to limit insurance companies’ ability to recover wildfire payments from utilities, dealing a setback to the governor’s push for sweeping changes ahead of the legislative deadline.
After days of closed-door negotiations, Democratic legislators refused to include Newsom’s controversial proposal in the wildfire liability bill before the session’s final stretch. The governor’s plan would have stopped insurers from suing investor-owned utilities to recover costs after wildfires, a process known as subrogation, meaning utilities like PG&E, Southern California Edison, and San Diego Gas & Electric would have been shielded from much of the financial fallout when their equipment sparks devastating blazes. Instead, lawmakers let the measure die, leaving insurers’ current rights to seek reimbursement intact.
This defeat followed marathon talks that ran from Thursday night into late Friday, as the clock ticked down on the legislative session. Newsom’s office first floated a complete ban on insurer reimbursement, then offered a compromise: cap insurance companies’ recovery at 50% of their wildfire losses. But the compromise fared no better. By Friday night’s deadline, the reimbursement proposal was off the table, and the main wildfire-liability bill went to print Saturday morning without it.
The stakes were high for all sides. Newsom’s office argued the change was necessary to protect California’s wildfire fund and keep utilities solvent, warning that unchecked liability could push companies toward bankruptcy, leaving fire victims unpaid and ratepayers holding the bag. Insurance companies, for their part, voiced concerns the plan would make it harder for them to recover losses, forcing higher premiums and destabilizing an already fragile insurance market. Meanwhile, organizations representing wildfire survivors fought to preserve their rights to compensation if utilities were found responsible for catastrophic fires.
In the end, lawmakers sided with survivors and insurers, rejecting Newsom’s push to overhaul the system on a tight deadline. Shares of California’s major investor-owned utilities tumbled in response: PG&E fell nearly 10%, Southern California Edison dropped about 5%, and San Diego Gas & Electric dipped 1% after it became clear the governor’s proposal had collapsed. The California Post reported that no legislation was filed containing the controversial reimbursement language, though other wildfire measures advanced.
Governor Newsom entered the negotiations looking for a dramatic change to California’s wildfire liability system. His office initially demanded a total ban on insurance companies seeking reimbursement from utilities for wildfire payouts, an aggressive move that would have left victims’ claims against utilities far more difficult to pursue. Facing resistance, the administration pivoted to a compromise: insurers could still try to recover losses, but only up to half of their costs. That too failed to win over lawmakers wary of moving fast on such a sweeping change with little public debate.
“Nonetheless, this system needs full structural reform, not a partial one,” Newsom said in a statement after lawmakers rebuffed his plan. He called on legislators to “build on this progress next year and finish the work we started to secure the Wildfire Fund’s long-term durability, stabilize electricity rates, and ensure fire victims are never again turned into unsecured creditors in a bankruptcy proceeding.” Newsom’s office, in an email obtained by the outlet, called the failed proposal a “path to take on the larger structural reform in a way to meaningfully contain costs.”
Supporters of the existing subrogation rules, including wildfire survivors’ advocates, cheered the outcome. Joy Chen, executive director of Every Fire Survivor’s Network, praised lawmakers for standing up to what she called “nearly all of the governor’s original bailout terms.” “We are profoundly grateful to the legislators who stood up for the real fire survivors,” Chen said, adding, “Preserving these rights is an enormous victory for all Californians.”
While Newsom’s most controversial proposal failed, other pieces of the wildfire package advanced. Lawmakers and the governor agreed to speed up payments to wildfire claimants, restrict attorneys’ fees, and ban CEO bonuses at utilities responsible for starting wildfires. The package also includes a plan for a statewide wildfire prevention strategy, a data-sharing platform, and a prohibition on hedge funds and private equity firms speculating in wildfire claims.
But the core fight, how to balance the costs of wildfires among utilities, insurers, and victims, remains unresolved. Newsom has already signaled he wants to revive the push for deeper changes in the next session. For now, utilities are left exposed to billions in potential liability, insurers can still try to recover their losses, and wildfire victims retain their current rights to seek compensation.
The high-profile standoff also spotlights growing friction inside Democratic ranks in California, echoing recent power struggles in the party nationwide. Newsom’s inability to bring lawmakers onside recalls his recent difficulties on the national stage, such as his failed Michigan campaign outreach and the increasing willingness of prominent Democrats to challenge his agenda.
As the 2028 Democratic presidential field takes shape, these internal divisions have become more pronounced, from public spats between Newsom’s team and other Democratic hopefuls, like the feud with Pete Buttigieg’s staff over primary turf, to shifting nomination odds as figures like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez surge past Newsom in the early betting. Recent Democratic infighting and the party’s shifting nomination odds only underscore the challenges facing Newsom as he tries to chart a path forward.
Governor Newsom isn’t giving up. In his statement, he called for a renewed effort to reform the system in the coming year, insisting the current arrangement leaves the state’s Wildfire Fund, and its ratepayers, vulnerable to future disasters. Whether he can unite his party behind a sweeping overhaul, or whether survivor advocates and insurers will again hold the line, will be a key test not only for wildfire policy but for Newsom’s own standing in California and beyond.
When politicians try to rush through complicated deals behind closed doors, Californians deserve leaders who put victims and taxpayers before corporate bailouts and political ambition.