Another federal agency just got a judicial slap for pushing what looks like a discriminatory agenda under the guise of budget trimming.
According to a report by the Washington Examiner, a Massachusetts judge has ordered the National Institutes of Health to restore nearly $3.8 billion in funding across 367 grants that were axed in a move deemed racially and socially biased.
Judge William Young of the District of Massachusetts didn’t mince words, calling the NIH’s cuts a glaring case of discrimination based on race, gender, and sexual orientation. His ruling sends a clear message: government agencies can’t hide behind bureaucratic excuses when their actions disproportionately harm specific groups. And frankly, in an era obsessed with equity, this kind of selective slashing feels like a step backward.
Young, with 40 years on the bench, didn’t hold back, stating, “I’ve never seen a record where racial discrimination was so palpable.” That’s a gut punch to an administration that’s already navigating a minefield of legal challenges. If a seasoned judge sees this as blatant bias, shouldn’t we all be asking tougher questions about federal priorities?
The cuts, which impacted U.S. institutions reliant on these grants for critical research, were challenged by attorneys representing affected researchers. They argued the selection process was “arbitrary” and unfairly targeted racial minorities, women, and LGBT individuals. Sounds like a classic case of bureaucracy picking winners and losers based on identity rather than merit—hardly the American way.
When the Justice Department tried to defend the NIH, claiming diversity, equity, and inclusion policies often mask “unlawful discrimination,” Judge Young wasn’t buying it. “I see no evidence of that,” he fired back, challenging them to show proof. It’s refreshing to see a judge demand hard facts instead of swallowing vague excuses, even if one wonders if the DEI pendulum has swung too far in either direction.
Young didn’t stop at just overturning the cuts; he went further, suggesting the government was actively trying to marginalize minority groups. “Have we fallen so low?” he asked, adding, “Have we no shame?” That’s a rhetorical haymaker, and while it stings, it also begs the question: are these policies truly about fairness, or are they just political theater?
The ruling itself is narrow, as Young admitted he lacks the authority to address cuts beyond this specific lawsuit against the NIH. Still, restoring $3.8 billion in funding is no small potatoes—it’s a lifeline for countless research programs. But limiting the scope also means the broader fight over federal funding and identity politics isn’t over by a long shot.
This decision marks yet another legal stumble for the Trump administration, which seems to face constant pushback from activist groups and the judiciary. While ambitious plans to reshape government operations are laudable, they keep hitting walls built of lawsuits and public outcry. It’s almost as if every policy shift gets bogged down in court before it can even take root.
Let’s be clear: research funding should be about excellence, not checking boxes for social agendas—whether those agendas come from the left or the right. The NIH’s apparent targeting of certain demographics undercuts the very principle of impartial science. If we’re serious about progress, shouldn’t the focus be on the quality of the work, not the identity of the researcher?
That said, there’s a human side to this story that can’t be ignored. These grants support livelihoods, groundbreaking studies, and innovations that benefit us all, and disproportionately cutting certain groups feels like a betrayal of trust. A conservative lens doesn’t mean turning a blind eye to unfairness—it means demanding fairness for everyone.
Young’s ruling, while a win for the plaintiffs, leaves bigger questions unanswered about how federal agencies can balance budgets without stepping into discriminatory traps. It’s a tightrope walk, and the NIH clearly slipped. One can only hope this serves as a wake-up call to prioritize merit over politics.
For now, $3.8 billion is back on the table, and 367 grants will keep vital research alive at institutions across the country. But this isn’t the end of the road—expect more legal skirmishes as the administration’s broader goals clash with judicial oversight. It’s a messy fight but one worth watching if we care about how taxpayer dollars are spent.
Critics of progressive policies often argue that DEI initiatives can overreach, becoming tools for reverse discrimination, yet here we see the opposite accusation stick in court. It’s a reminder that bias can be cut both ways, and the government must tread carefully to avoid alienating any group. Isn’t it time for a system that judges ideas on their strength, not on who presents them?
Ultimately, Judge Young’s decision is a pointed rebuke to federal overreach dressed up as fiscal responsibility. While conservatives may bristle at judicial activism, there’s no denying that arbitrary cuts based on identity politics—whatever the motivation—undermine trust in our institutions. Let’s hope this ruling sparks a return to reason over rhetoric in how America funds its future.
President Trump jetted to Canada for his first G7 summit, but the Middle East’s boiling tensions stole the spotlight. Israel’s bold strikes on Iran’s nuclear sites have sparked a dangerous tit-for-tat, with missiles flying and lives lost. The world watches, wondering if Trump’s deal-making can cool this powder keg.
As reported by Fox News, Israel launched “Operation Rising Lion” on June 12, hammering Iran’s nuclear and missile facilities and killing four Iranian military leaders. Iran retaliated with missile strikes on June 15, targeting central Israel, demolishing homes, and claiming over a dozen lives. Trump, informed of Israel’s plans beforehand, now pushes for a nuclear deal to halt the escalating conflict.
The U.S. knew Israel’s strike was coming, Trump confirmed on June 12, but Iran’s fury derailed nuclear talks in Oman. Iran’s missiles rained on Israel, only partially thwarted by the Iron Dome over Tel Aviv. Trump’s response? A fiery Truth Social post vowing peace through strength.
“I gave Iran chance after chance to make a deal,” Trump posted on June 13, boasting U.S. military might and Israel’s lethal arsenal. His words drip with bravado, but the stakes are sky-high—can he broker peace where others failed? Critics call it reckless; supporters see a master negotiator at work.
Iran’s hardliners, Trump claimed, “are all DEAD now,” after Israel’s strikes, a blunt jab that underscores his no-nonsense style. Yet, his June 15 post promised peace, citing past successes in Serbia-Kosovo and Egypt-Ethiopia. The Middle East, he insists, will be “GREAT AGAIN!”
While missiles flew, Trump landed in Alberta, Canada, for the G7 summit on June 16, joined by leaders from Canada, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, the EU, and the UK. Ukrainian PM Volodymyr Zelenskyy and Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum also attended, their presence amplifying global stakes. The Canadian Rockies, last a G8 host in 2002, set a dramatic backdrop.
The G7 agenda zeroed in on Israel-Iran, Russia-Ukraine, Trump’s tariff plans, and the global economy’s wobbles. Trump’s deal-making swagger clashed with European caution, but he’s never shied from a tough room. Can he steer the summit toward unity, or will it fracture under pressure?
Back home, Trump’s immigration policies ignited chaos. Violent protests erupted in Los Angeles on June 6, sparked by federal immigration raids, with looting, arson, and highway shutdowns. California Gov. Gavin Newsom and L.A. Mayor Karen Bass slammed the raids, but Trump’s base cheers the crackdown.
In Compton on June 7, a protester waved American and Mexican flags as firefighters battled a burning car. Portland, Oregon, saw clashes on June 14, with U.S. Customs agents dodging tear gas amid furious crowds. The progressive outrage, while loud, ignores the border’s real strain, critics argue.
“No Kings Day” protests swept cities on June 14, decrying Trump’s leadership as authoritarian. Portland reported four injured law enforcement officers, while Los Angeles descended into chaos. The left’s tantrums, dressed as dissent, only deepen the nation’s divide, observers note.
Trump’s 79th birthday on June 14 coincided with Flag Day and a grand military parade in D.C., marking the Army’s 250th anniversary. The celebration, meant to unify, felt hollow amid domestic unrest and Middle East carnage. Still, Trump’s supporters hailed his patriotic fervor.
The president’s focus remains split—global diplomacy, domestic unrest, and a volatile Middle East. His G7 appearance, a chance to project strength, competes with Iran’s defiance and protest-fueled headlines. Trump thrives in chaos, but even he faces limits.
Trump’s Truth Social posts blend optimism with warnings, promising peace while flexing military muscle. “Many calls and meetings now taking place,” he wrote, hinting at feverish diplomacy. Skeptics scoff, but his base trusts the dealmaker-in-chief to deliver.
Iran’s withdrawal from nuclear talks signals distrust, yet Trump insists a deal is near. His past interventions—Serbia-Kosovo, Egypt-Ethiopia—lend credence, though the Middle East’s complexities dwarf those wins. Patience wears thin as missiles keep falling.
As Trump navigates the G7 and domestic fires, his vision for a “great” Middle East hangs in the balance. The world craves stability, but progressives’ protests and Iran’s aggression test his resolve. Love him or hate him, Trump’s next moves will shape history.
A federal judge in San Francisco has slapped down President Trump’s attempt to federalize California’s National Guard, calling it an overreach that smells more of monarchy than constitutional governance.
Senior U.S. District Court Judge Charles Breyer, a Clinton appointee, ruled Thursday that Trump’s deployment of the Guard to Los Angeles was illegal, ordering control returned to Governor Gavin Newsom, as Breitbart reports.
The decision, rooted in violations of congressional procedures and the Tenth Amendment, underscores the limits of presidential power in a republic that rejects kings. Breyer’s pen struck a blow for state sovereignty, though the White House has yet to respond.
Breyer’s ruling didn’t mince words, declaring Trump’s actions exceeded his statutory authority. “That’s the difference between a constitutional government and King George,” the judge quipped, reminding us that even a commander-in-chief answers to the law.
The Hill reported Breyer’s pointed jab at Trump’s kingly ambitions, a sentiment that resonates with conservatives who cherish checks and balances. Yet, one wonders if the judge’s flair for drama overshadows the practical need for order in chaotic times.
Trump’s team, led by DOJ Civil Division head Brett Shumate, argued the president’s order was lawful, channeled through California’s adjutant general. Shumate’s claim—“There’s one commander-in-chief of the armed forces”—sounds compelling, but didn’t sway Breyer, who saw it as sidestepping state rights.
Governor Newsom, never shy about clashing with Trump, celebrated the ruling as a victory for local control. “The military belongs on the battlefield, not on our city streets,” he declared, framing the Guard’s deployment as a militarized overstep. His rhetoric, while catchy, conveniently ignores the unrest that prompted Trump’s move in the first place.
Breyer’s order specifically enjoined the Trump administration from deploying Guard members in Los Angeles. This hands Newsom the reins, but it also raises questions about how California will handle future crises without federal backup.
The ruling’s timing, just before planned “No Kings” demonstrations nationwide, adds fuel to an already polarized fire. Trump, when asked about the protests, grumbled, “I have to go through hell to get stuff approved,” a sentiment many conservatives share about bureaucratic roadblocks.
Shumate’s defense of Trump’s authority leaned on the president’s role as the sole commander-in-chief. It’s a fair point—national security often demands swift action—but Breyer saw it as a dodge of constitutional guardrails. The clash here is classic: federal power versus state autonomy.
The Tenth Amendment, which reserves powers to the states, was central to Breyer’s reasoning. For conservatives, this is a double-edged sword: cheering state rights while wondering if a weaker federal hand emboldens progressive strongholds like California.
As expected, the ruling is likely headed for appeal, setting the stage for a higher court showdown. The Trump administration’s silence so far suggests they’re regrouping, not retreating.
Breyer’s insistence that Trump wields presidential, not royal, authority is a reminder of America’s founding principles. Conservatives can nod in agreement—nobody wants a king—but they also know strong leadership sometimes requires bold moves. The judge’s ruling, while legally sound, might hamstring efforts to restore order in turbulent cities.
Newsom’s battlefield quip plays well to his base, but it glosses over the Guard’s role in stabilizing communities. Deploying troops isn’t about militarizing streets; it’s about protecting citizens when local leaders falter. Still, Breyer’s call for constitutional fidelity holds weight.
With appeals looming and protests brewing, this story is far from over. Conservatives should rally behind the rule of law while questioning whether California’s leadership can handle the challenges ahead. Trump’s vision for a strong America deserves better than judicial overreach, but the Constitution must always come first.
Donald Trump’s bold pardons for Jan. 6 demonstrators have Mike Pence crying foul, as Breitbart reports.
Speaking on CNN’s State of the Union, the former vice president criticized Trump’s decision to free individuals accused of assaulting police during the 2021 Capitol chaos. But is Pence missing the bigger picture of Trump’s fight for justice?
Pence called Trump’s pardons of alleged cop-beaters on Jan. 6, 2021, flat-out wrong, urging condemnation of all violence.
While he’s waving the law-and-order flag, Trump’s move reflects a deeper conservative frustration with overzealous prosecutions. The MAGA base sees these pardons as a stand against a weaponized justice system.
Trump’s recent pardons aim to correct what many conservatives view as unfair targeting of patriots caught up in the moment. Pence’s pushback risks alienating those who see Trump as their champion.
“We cannot allow or stand by while people assault law enforcement officers,” Pence said. Fair enough, but Trump’s supporters argue the pardons address a broader injustice -- years of selective outrage from the left. Why clutch pearls over January 6 when progressive riots often get a free pass?
FBI Director Kash Patel, a longtime Trump ally, backed the president’s blanket pardon of Jan. 6 participants. Yet, Patel also warned Los Angeles protesters: “Hit a cop, you’re going to jail.” His tough talk shows Trump’s team isn’t soft on crime, just skeptical of D.C.’s double standards.
Pence wants universal condemnation of violence, but Trump’s pardons resonate with conservatives fed up with one-sided justice. The former VP’s stance feels like a lecture from the establishment, not a defense of the forgotten American. Trump, as always, is playing to the base’s heartbeat.
Beyond Jan. 6, political violence is spiking. Jewish peaceful protesters have faced attacks, and the governor of Pennsylvania’s home was targeted. Trump’s pardons don’t excuse violence -- they challenge a system that picks and chooses its villains.
Trump himself dodged two assassination attempts on the campaign trail. Pence noted these attacks, calling for unity against violence, but Trump’s resilience only fuels his supporters’ loyalty. The man’s a lightning rod, and his pardons are a middle finger to those trying to take him down.
Then came the gut-wrenching attack that killed Minnesota State Rep. Melissa Hortman and her husband, injuring another colleague and his spouse.
Pence offered prayers, but Trump’s base sees this tragedy as more proof the system fails to protect conservatives. The pardons are a push for fairness, not chaos.
“This is a moment when we need to make it very clear that anyone who would ever use violence… must be condemned universally,” Pence insisted. But Trump’s pardons aren’t about glorifying violence -- they’re about questioning a justice system that hounds conservatives while ignoring progressive mobs. That’s a distinction Pence seems to miss.
Host Dana Bash tried to dunk on Patel, highlighting his support for pardoning Capitol rioters who attacked police. Her gotcha moment falls flat when you consider Patel’s broader point: conservatives are tired of being the left’s punching bag. Trump’s pardons are a rallying cry for equality under the law.
Trump’s MAGA movement thrives on challenging the status quo, and these pardons are classic Trump -- bold, divisive, and unapologetic. Pence’s criticism might score points with the Beltway crowd, but it’s out of touch with the heartland. Conservatives want a fighter, not a sermon.
Pence’s call for principle is noble, but Trump’s pardons tap into a raw conservative anger. The MAGA faithful see a justice system that slaps wrists for progressive violence but throws the book at Trump supporters. That double standard is why Trump’s pardons hit home.
From Hortman’s tragic death to attacks on peaceful protesters, political violence demands a response. Trump’s pardons aren’t the problem -- they’re a symptom of a broken system that Pence’s platitudes can’t fix. Conservatives want action, and Trump delivers.
Ultimately, Pence’s State of the Union jab at Trump shows a rift in the conservative camp. Trump’s pardons may be messy, but they’re a stand for the little guy against a rigged game. The MAGA base will stick with the fighter who’s got their back.
President Donald Trump’s legal team is racking up victories at the Supreme Court, flexing conservative muscle to push his agenda. Since January 2025, his administration has bombarded the court’s emergency docket with 19 applications, dwarfing the pace of prior presidencies. These rapid-fire wins are reshaping policy at breakneck speed, according to a report by Reuters.
In less than five months, Trump’s administration has filed emergency requests matching the total from Joe Biden’s entire four-year term. The court, with its 6-3 conservative majority—bolstered by three Trump appointees—has ruled in his favor nine times out of 13 decided cases. This blitz allows policies like revoking migrant protections and banning transgender military service to take effect while legal fights drag on.
The emergency docket, often dubbed the “shadow docket,” operates with minimal briefing and no oral arguments in most cases. Trump’s team has leaned hard into this tool, averaging one request per week. Critics cry foul, but supporters see it as a necessary counter to activist lower courts.
“The Trump administration uses every legal basis at its disposal to implement the agenda the American people voted for,” White House spokesperson Harrison Fields told Reuters. Nice try, but that sounds like a polite way of saying they’re steamrolling opposition with judicial firepower. The court’s conservative tilt makes it a reliable ally for Trump’s bold moves.
In May 2025, the court struck down deportation procedures in a Texas detention center, citing due process violations under a 1798 law. Yet, it greenlit policies like slashing teacher training grants and firing probationary federal workers. These rulings show the court’s willingness to back Trump’s priorities, even if selectively.
The court’s June 6, 2025, decision was a double win for Trump’s Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE). It granted DOGE access to Social Security data while shielding its operations from a watchdog group. Transparency takes a backseat when efficiency is the buzzword.
Justice Elena Kagan warned, “The risk of error increases when this court decides cases ... with barebones briefing, no argument and scarce time for reflection.” Her dissent in the teacher grants case highlights the docket’s rushed nature. But conservatives argue speed is essential to undo years of progressive overreach.
Not every ruling went Trump’s way; the court blocked his attempt to withhold payments to foreign aid groups for completed work. Still, with six emergency requests pending—including controversial pushes to limit birthright citizenship and deport migrants to third countries—the administration keeps the pressure on. Defeat in one case doesn’t slow their momentum.
“There is a very real possibility that at least some of the justices ... are worried about how much capital they have to expend in confrontations with President Trump,” wrote Georgetown law professor Stephen Vladeck on June 12, 2025. Worried or not, the court’s conservative majority seems ready to spend that capital. Trump’s agenda marches forward, with justices as willing partners.
Trump’s first term saw 41 emergency applications, far outpacing the eight filed by George W. Bush and Barack Obama combined over 16 years. His second term’s pace suggests an even bolder strategy. The court’s rulings have already enabled policies like downsizing the federal workforce and ending temporary migrant statuses.
The emergency docket’s bare, unsigned orders often lack detailed rationale, drawing criticism for opacity. Only the birthright citizenship case merited oral arguments, a rare exception. Yet, Justice Samuel Alito’s 2021 defense rings true for conservatives: the process isn’t new, just misunderstood.
“Once again this court dons its emergency-responder gear, rushes to the scene and uses its equitable power to fan the flames rather than extinguish them,” dissented Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson in the Social Security data case. Her fiery words paint the court as reckless, but supporters see it as decisively correcting lower court oversteps.
As the court nears its June 2025 term end, the emergency docket diverts focus from major cases, like Tennessee’s ban on gender-affirming care for minors. The justices juggle these urgent requests while crafting opinions on high-stakes issues. It’s a high-wire act, and Trump’s team keeps adding weight.
“The administration has not sought Supreme Court review in all the cases it could,” said Sarah Konsky of the University of Chicago Law School. Her point suggests strategic restraint, but 19 applications in five months hardly scream caution. Trump’s legal strategy is all-in, banking on a friendly court.
The emergency docket’s role will likely grow, raising questions about judicial power and transparency. For now, Trump’s victories— from military bans to federal layoffs—signal a conservative court ready to back his vision. Critics may grumble, but the scoreboard favors the president.
Another courtroom clash over immigration policy has just handed the Trump administration a fleeting win that’s got everyone talking.
This latest saga centers on a U.S. appeals court decision to pause a lower court ruling that demanded due process for Venezuelan migrants deported to El Salvador, a short-term triumph for the administration’s hardline stance. As reported by Fox News, the legal battle is far from over, but this pause buys time.
Let’s rewind to earlier this year when U.S. District Judge James Boasberg first threw a wrench into the administration’s deportation plans. On March 15, he issued a temporary restraining order to halt flights carrying migrants to El Salvador, even demanding the return of planes already en route. Spoiler alert: those planes landed anyway, leaving Boasberg’s order more of a suggestion than a mandate.
In the months that followed, Boasberg dug in, holding fact-finding hearings to uncover who knew what about those defiant flights. He even found probable cause to hold the administration in contempt for what he called a “willful disregard” of his emergency ruling. But before any gavel could drop, a federal appeals court stepped in to halt those contempt proceedings.
Fast forward to last week, when Boasberg ruled that hundreds of migrants deported under the 1798 Alien Enemies Act were denied due process—no prior notice, no chance to challenge their removal. He ordered the administration to provide these individuals, many held in El Salvador’s maximum-security CECOT prison, an opportunity for habeas relief and to contest their alleged gang affiliations used as justification for deportation.
The Trump administration was given a tight deadline to submit plans for complying with this order, but they weren’t about to roll over. Just one day before the due date, Justice Department lawyers filed an emergency motion to stay the ruling, arguing Boasberg lacked jurisdiction since the migrants were detained outside U.S. borders.
The administration didn’t mince words in their appeal, calling Boasberg’s ruling “unprecedented, baseless and constitutionally offensive.” They argued it meddled with the president’s authority to remove individuals deemed dangerous, framing the judge’s orders as a direct threat to national security and foreign policy. Well, that’s one way to say, “We’re not following your playbook, Your Honor.”
Justice Department attorneys doubled down in their motion, stating, “The district court’s increasingly fantastical injunctions continue to threaten serious harm to the government’s national-security and foreign-affairs interests.” They insisted the U.S. lacks custody over migrants in CECOT, thus stripping the court of jurisdiction over habeas claims. It’s a legal dodge that’s as sharp as it is contentious, but it worked—for now.
The U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit agreed to grant an administrative stay, temporarily blocking Boasberg’s order. This pause gives the administration breathing room to tackle the deeper merits of the case without the immediate pressure of crafting a compliance plan. It’s a win, sure, but hardly the final bell in this legal bout.
Senior Trump officials haven’t held back their frustration, labeling Boasberg and other unfavorable federal judges as overreaching activists. While their rhetoric is fiery, it’s hard not to see their point when court orders seem to clash with executive powers on border security. Still, painting every judge as a rogue operator risks undermining the very system meant to check and balance.
Boasberg, for his part, has been a persistent thorn in the administration’s side since his initial attempt to block these deportations. As the first federal judge to challenge the use of the Alien Enemies Act for summary removals to El Salvador, he’s squarely in the spotlight—and the crosshairs—of policy debates.
Interestingly, Boasberg’s latest ruling sidestepped the messy question of jurisdiction altogether. He allowed the migrants to remain in custody at CECOT, focusing instead on ensuring they get a fair shot to challenge their deportations. It’s a pragmatic move, though one the administration clearly finds less than agreeable.
This legal skirmish is just the latest chapter in a broader war over immigration enforcement under the Trump administration. The use of a centuries-old law like the Alien Enemies Act to justify rapid deportations has sparked fierce debate about due process and executive overreach. And let’s be honest—expecting consensus on this issue is like expecting a cat to fetch.
For now, the appeals court’s stay offers the administration a tactical reprieve, but the underlying clash between judicial oversight and executive action looms large. Migrants caught in this tug-of-war, many held in harsh conditions at CECOT, remain in limbo as courts hash out their rights.
As this case unfolds, it’s a stark reminder of the tension between securing borders and upholding constitutional principles. The Trump administration’s push for swift removals may resonate with those prioritizing safety, but sidestepping due process is a slippery slope even conservatives should eye warily. Here’s hoping the next ruling brings clarity—though don’t hold your breath for harmony.
Well, folks, it seems the alphabet network just couldn’t handle a hot take that scorched their carefully curated neutrality.
Terry Moran, a veteran journalist with 28 years at ABC News, was first suspended and then fired on Tuesday following a now-deleted social media post criticizing former President Donald Trump and top White House staffer Stephen Miller, as reported by the Daily Mail.
The post, shared just after midnight on a Sunday, painted Trump and Miller as “world-class haters,” with Moran accusing Miller of being fueled by “bile” and Trump of using hatred as a stepping stone for personal glory. Talk about a midnight rant that didn’t age well under the harsh light of corporate scrutiny.
Moran’s journey at ABC began in 1997, when he climbed the ranks from Chief White House Correspondent to Chief Foreign Correspondent and eventually Senior National Correspondent by 2018. He co-anchored Nightline for eight years and often appeared on George Stephanopoulos’s This Week, though his presence had dimmed in recent times.
The trouble brewed earlier this year during an April interview in the Oval Office, where Moran clashed with Trump over the deportation of an El Salvador native, Kilmar Abrego Garcia. Trump dismissed Moran as a “nobody” while claiming to have given him the “break of a lifetime” with the sit-down—a jab that likely stung more than Moran let on.
Fast forward to Sunday’s social media misstep, and ABC didn’t hesitate to act, suspending Moran almost immediately before deciding to part ways for good. Network insiders suggest there was “no alternative,” as a prolonged saga would tank viewership in an already ratings-obsessed industry.
An insider didn’t mince words, stating, “We f***ing took it seriously and dealt with it pretty g*d***mn quickly.” Well, that’s one way to signal zero tolerance for stepping out of line, especially when the line is drawn with a permanent marker of political neutrality.
Another source confided to Fox News that dragging out the suspension with investigations would’ve been a disaster for ABC’s audience numbers. In these polarized times, who wants to tune in for a soap opera of internal discipline instead of hard news?
The same source lamented the situation as “just sad honestly,” describing Moran as a “long-time colleague, friend, a good person, family man.” It’s a reminder that even in the cutthroat world of media, personal bonds can make these decisions bittersweet—though not bittersweet enough to save a job.
In the offending post on X, Moran wrote, “The thing about Stephen Miller is not that he is the brains behind Trumpism,” before delving into a scathing critique of Miller’s supposed hatred as “spiritual nourishment.” That’s a bold choice of words for a journalist expected to report, not editorialize—especially on a platform as public as X.
He didn’t stop there, adding, “Miller is a man who is richly endowed with the capacity for hatred. He’s a world-class hater.” Ouch—if only sharp wit came with a corporate immunity card.
Moran also labeled Trump a “world-class hater,” though he suggested Trump’s animosity was merely a tool for “his own glorification.” It’s a distinction without a difference when your employer demands impartiality, not personal vendettas.
ABC News issued a statement calling Moran’s post a “clear violation” of their policies, declaring, “We are at the end of our agreement with Terry Moran and based on his recent post... we have made the decision to not renew.” They doubled down on their commitment to “objectivity, fairness and professionalism,” a standard Moran’s late-night musings apparently failed to meet.
Colleagues noted Moran wasn’t the typical journalist wading into online political brawls, with one insider describing his style as “folksy” and “whimsical,” almost philosophical. Yet, as the insider quipped, “Dude, put the phone down and go to bed”—sage advice that came to a tweet too late.
Moran, who was reportedly earning $500,000 annually, has remained silent on his termination, declining to comment when approached by media outlets. At 65, after nearly three decades with ABC, one can only wonder if this abrupt exit marks the end of a storied career or a pivot to something less constrained
A Minnesota state representative just dropped a bombshell that’s got everyone from St. Paul to social media buzzing with questions about law, ethics, and eligibility for public office.
The story centers on Rep. Kaohly Vang Her, who revealed during a legislative session that she and her family initially came to the United States through unauthorized means after the Vietnam War. As reported by MSN, her confession came amid a heated debate over expanding MinnesotaCare eligibility to undocumented adults, making her personal story a lightning rod for controversy.
Her recounted her family’s journey, explaining that her grandfather was a colonel in the so-called “secret war,” which she initially believed entitled them to legal entry. But, as she shared, her parents later clarified that wasn’t the case. Their path to America, she admitted, involved bending the rules.
Her father, who worked at the U.S. Consulate processing refugee paperwork, took a drastic step to secure their escape. He listed Her’s grandmother as his own mother on official documents—a move facilitated by an uncle’s connection to USAID—since their family wasn’t on the approved list for direct military or agency affiliates.
“And so I am illegal in this country,” Her declared on the House floor, a statement that hit like a political grenade. While she later clarified her current citizenship status, the admission raises eyebrows about how such a past aligns with holding elected office. It’s a bold confession, especially when the room was already tense with policy debates.
Her insisted her family didn’t cherry-pick a state for benefits when fleeing Laos. “Nobody leaves their country unless they have to leave that country,” she argued, framing their actions as a matter of survival rather than opportunism. Yet, one wonders if survival justifies sidestepping legal channels in a nation built on rule of law.
The fallout was swift once clips of Her’s speech spread across social media platforms. Many online questioned how someone with such a history could serve as a state representative, with posts demanding clarity on her eligibility under Minnesota law.
Rep. Walter Hudson, a colleague, didn’t mince words, calling for an immediate investigation into Her’s status. “It was dropped so casually that you have to wonder whether she understands what she said,” Hudson posted, reflecting a sentiment shared by many conservatives who see this as a breach of trust in public office. It’s a fair point—shouldn’t lawmakers be held to the highest standard of legal accountability?
Her later clarified to the Minnesota Reformer that she and her parents are now U.S. citizens, having gained status when she was in middle school. She explained her father “technically broke the law” to expedite their entry as refugees from Laos when she was just three years old. Still, the timing of her initial wording couldn’t have been worse for avoiding scrutiny.
She added that her family “would have come to America anyway,” suggesting the paperwork manipulation was merely a shortcut, not a deception. While Her expressed regret for not being clearer on the House floor, she stood by sharing her story to humanize the immigrant experience. It’s a noble intent, but one that risks overshadowing the legal questions at hand.
“The truth is until people see a face with somebody and a situation, it is really easy for us to other each other,” Her told the Reformer. It’s a poignant line, no doubt, but conservatives might argue that personal stories shouldn’t excuse bending foundational laws, no matter how sympathetic the circumstances.
Her’s revelation also tied into her frustration over potential cuts to USAID funding, an agency linked to her family’s journey. She passionately noted that voting against the MinnesotaCare bill felt like a personal rejection of people like her, who she claims have paid more into the system than they’ve received. Yet, skeptics might counter that emotional appeals shouldn’t override policy debates on taxpayer-funded programs.
Her isn’t alone in airing such personal history recently, as fashion blogger Derek Guy also shared his own tale of entering the U.S. from Canada without documentation as a child. Guy’s story, detailing his family’s escape from Vietnam and subsequent border crossing, echoes Her’s theme of messy, desperate migration driven by family needs rather than malice.
Guy criticized harsh immigration enforcement like ICE sweeps, calling them inhumane and advocating for systemic solutions over mass deportations. While his perspective adds depth to the conversation, it also fuels conservative concerns that normalizing unauthorized entry undermines the legal framework that keeps borders secure. It’s a compassionate stance, but one that feels like progress, defined as sidestepping with great enthusiasm.
As this story unfolds, the tension between empathy and enforcement remains palpable in Minnesota and beyond. Her’s case, while now clarified as a past issue, still sparks vital questions about eligibility, transparency, and the rule of law in public service. It’s a reminder that even the most heartfelt stories must be weighed against the principles that govern a nation.
Mark Green, Tennessee’s stalwart Republican, is ditching Congress sooner than expected. According to Newsmax, the House Homeland Security Committee chair plans to resign once President Donald Trump signs the One Big Beautiful Bill Act into law.
Green, representing Tennessee’s 7th District, told House leadership, including Speaker Mike Johnson, of his early exit, per Punchbowl News. This isn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision; he’s already lined up a job outside Congress. The conservative firebrand is ready to trade legislative battles for fresh challenges.
Rewind to February 2024: Green swore off reelection, fed up with Washington’s dysfunction. GOP colleagues and Trump himself nudged him to reconsider, and he did, securing another term in November. Yet, here we are—his victory lap cut short by a calculated pivot.
First elected in 2018, Green carved a niche as a no-nonsense conservative in a reliably red district. His role as Homeland Security chair amplified his voice on border policy, a MAGA priority. But even steadfast warriors grow weary of the swamp’s endless churn.
Green’s reversal on retirement wasn’t just a whim; it reflected pressure from a party desperate to keep its heavy hitters. His reelection win proved his district’s loyalty. Still, loyalty to principle sometimes means knowing when to walk away.
The One Big Beautiful Bill Act looms large in Green’s exit strategy. He’s tying his departure to Trump’s signature, a nod to the MAGA agenda’s momentum. It’s a savvy way to leave on a high note, not a concession to progressive overreach.
Punchbowl News broke the story Monday, catching even seasoned Hill watchers off guard. Green’s candor with fellow Republicans about his next gig shows he’s not sneaking out the back door. Transparency like that earns respect, even from critics.
Tennessee’s 7th District, a GOP stronghold, won’t likely flip without Green. His departure ensures a special election, giving conservatives a chance to rally behind a new champion. The district’s voters, fiercely independent, will demand someone who mirrors Green’s grit.
Green’s tenure wasn’t without controversy, but he never shied from tough fights. From grilling bureaucrats to pushing border security, he embodied the anti-woke ethos. His exit feels less like a retreat and more like a warrior choosing his next battlefield.
Waiting for Trump’s pen to hit the bill shows Green’s faith in the president’s vision. It’s a subtle jab at the left’s hand-wringing over Trump’s return. Actions, as they say, speak louder than sanctimonious tweets.
No direct quotes from Green himself surfaced in the reports, which is telling. He’s letting his actions—resigning, securing a new role—do the talking. In a world of posturing, that restraint is almost refreshing.
The absence of juicy soundbites doesn’t diminish the story’s weight. Green’s move underscores a broader truth: even loyalists can’t stay tethered to Congress forever. The system’s broken, and he’s not pretending otherwise.
Green’s new job remains under wraps, but it’s safe to bet it aligns with his conservative roots. Whether it’s consulting, advocacy, or something flashier, he’s not fading into obscurity. Expect him to keep poking the woke bear from a new perch.
For now, the focus shifts to who’ll fill his shoes in Tennessee. The GOP bench is deep, but replacing Green’s blend of principle and pragmatism won’t be easy. Voters will be watching, and they don’t suffer fools gladly.
Mark Green’s exit is a reminder: public service isn’t a life sentence. He’s served, fought, and now steps aside on his terms, leaving a legacy of standing firm against the progressive tide. Here’s to hoping his next chapter keeps the fire burning.
Terry Moran's social media outburst against President Donald Trump and his advisor, Stephen Miller, has landed the ABC News correspondent in hot water. On Sunday, Moran posted a now-deleted screed calling both men "world-class haters," a move that drew swift condemnation from the White House and his network. Actions, it seems, have consequences.
According to Fox News, Moran’s post targeted Trump and Miller, accusing them of thriving on hatred as their "spiritual nourishment." The ABC News veteran’s words sparked a firestorm, with White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt and Vice President JD Vance blasting the remarks as unprofessional and biased.
The drama unfolded on Sunday when Moran’s post hit social media, only to vanish shortly after. Leavitt, quick to respond on X, labeled the comments "unhinged and unacceptable" for a journalist expected to uphold objectivity. She later told Fox News the White House contacted ABC, which promised to address the breach.
Leavitt didn’t stop at X. On "Sunday Morning Futures," she doubled down, questioning how someone like Moran could claim to be an "unbiased and professional journalist." Her words tapped into a broader conservative frustration with legacy media’s perceived slant.
Stephen Miller, a prime target of Moran’s post, fired back with his statement. He called the outburst a revealing moment, exposing the "radical" underbelly of the corporate press. Miller’s retort framed Moran as a journalist who’d abandoned his mask of neutrality.
Vice President JD Vance piled on, describing Moran’s post as "dripping with hatred." He urged Americans to remember this bias when watching ABC’s coverage of the Trump administration. The coordinated pushback underscored the administration’s readiness to confront media critics head-on.
ABC News, caught in the crossfire, moved quickly to distance itself from Moran’s remarks. A spokesperson told Fox News Digital the post violated their standards of objectivity and impartiality, confirming Moran’s suspension pending further review. The network’s response aimed to quell the growing controversy.
Moran’s post didn’t just criticize policy—it got personal. "Miller is a man who is richly endowed with the capacity for hatred," he wrote, adding that Trump’s hatred serves his own "glorification." Such visceral language crossed a line, even for a media landscape accustomed to sharp rhetoric.
The White House, emboldened by ABC’s reaction, saw the suspension as a victory. Leavitt’s earlier comment that ABC would "take action" proved prescient, though she hinted the incident reflected deeper public distrust in media. It’s a sentiment that resonates with many on the right.
Moran’s history with Trump adds context to the clash. During an interview after Trump’s 100th day in office, the president accused Moran of asking "fake questions" and being "not very nice." The exchange revealed a mutual wariness that’s only deepened over time.
In that interview, Moran pressed Trump on his relationship with Russia’s Vladimir Putin. Trump, never one to mince words, pushed back, saying he didn’t trust Moran or the media at large. The tension from that encounter seems to have lingered, bubbling up in Moran’s ill-fated post.
Trump also used the interview to slam former President Joe Biden, calling him "grossly incompetent." Moran’s questioning on topics like deportation policies drew Trump’s ire, with the president accusing him of seeking a "big break" while undermining the administration. It was a preview of the animosity that would resurface years later.
Moran’s suspension raises thorny questions about journalistic standards. His post, however impassioned, violated ABC’s commitment to impartiality, a principle the network publicly reaffirmed. Yet conservatives argue this incident is merely the tip of a biased iceberg.
The White House’s aggressive response, echoed by Vance and Miller, signals a broader strategy to hold the media accountable. Leavitt’s claim that Moran’s words fuel public distrust strikes a chord with those who see legacy outlets as out of touch. It’s a narrative the administration is eager to amplify.
For now, Moran’s fate at ABC hangs in the balance. The suspension may cool tempers, but it won’t resolve the deeper rift between the Trump administration and a media many conservatives view as hostile. In a world of instant outrage, one thing’s clear: Words still carry weight.
