California Democratic Attorney General Rob Bonta has filed an emergency writ with the court of appeals to halt Riverside County Sheriff Chad Bianco’s investigation into potential voter fraud, raising questions about why the state’s top law enforcement official is so desperate to stop a physical count of ballots.

This article is part of Upstream, The Daily Wire’s new home for culture and lifestyle. Real human insight and human stories — from our featured writers to you. *** March Madness and baseball Opening Day may be blotting out the sun for sports fans, but for followers of televised competitive cooking, the next couple of months are the NCAA Tournament, the World Series, the BCS Championship, and the Super Bowl rolled into one, wrapped, covered in a mother sauce, and served on a platter to a panel of judges. Though I watch every cooking competition available, and always have, lately I’ve been trying to understand why. It’s not that they’re inspiring me to cook. They’re barely even inspiring me to eat. The main event, as always, is the new season of “Top Chef.” But you also have a “Top Chef” knockoff, “America’s Culinary Cup,” hosted by former “Top Chef” doyenne Padma Lakshmi; “Next Level Chef,” Gordon Ramsay’s quarterly competition offering; and Guy Fieri’s “Tournament of Champions.” And that doesn’t include more quotidian feeder offerings such as Fieri’s “Flavortown Food Fight” and “Chopped.” Shows are eliminating chefs so quickly that culinary schools can’t produce enough replacements.  “Top Chef,” now hosted by former winner Kristen Kish, has barely deviated from the formula. You put a group of accomplished but not famous chefs through a series of challenges, knock them out one by one, and let the survivor enter the pantheon. The show emerged around the same time as programs such as “Project: Runway” and “America’s Next Top Model,” and at this point, it is as much a part of the pop landscape as “Wheel of Fortune.” It’s reliable, comforting bourgeois entertainment. Becoming Top Chef means something. But what, exactly? This is the question I find myself asking when I watch “Tournament of Champions.” Unlike the relatively buttoned-up “Top Chef,” which drives its contestants around in luxury SUVs and puts them up in nice hotel suites, “Tournament of Champions” is a melée that doesn’t hide its Hollywood backlot underpinnings. Fieri presides over a bracket-style competition for 32 chefs (including 16 who need to win in order even to qualify for the main competition). There is a spinning wheel called The Randomizer that determines what the chefs will cook, how they will cook, and for how long. Then a panel of judges, many of them former “Tournament of Champions” winners, taste and judge the dishes. Fieri, in his typical hype-man style, touts “Tournament of Champions” as the ultimate culinary competition. And there’s something to be said for the fact that nowhere else can you see Ming Tsai, longtime host of PBS’s “Simply Ming,” competing against (and losing to) Aarti Sequeria, host of the Food Network’s “Aarti Party.” But if you watch a lot of food competition shows — and I do — you start to see patterns. Some of the people competing in “Tournament of Champions” are undoubtedly among the best chefs in America. However, many of them are just simply good chefs who are good on TV and who the Food Network has on retainer to compete and judge.  Many of them are former “Top Chef” contestants, even “Top Chef” winners. This is the route available to them. The ones at the top are just building their brand. For others, this is literally, to borrow a term from “Top Chef,” their “Last Chance Kitchen.” One frequent “Tournament of Champions” challenger lost her restaurant in the Lahaina Fire. Others admit to going through messy divorces. Another one, a number-three-seed, bounced from this year’s tournament early and was shot 11 times last year in a robbery. For some chefs, it’s a chance to go mano a mano, but for others, “Tournament of Champions” feels vaguely like a cooking-themed version of the old-timey game show “Queen For A Day,” where housewives traded sob stories for audience sympathy and prizes.  The Gordon Ramsay shows, such as “Hell’s Kitchen,” “MasterChef,” and the currently-airing “Next Level Chef,” exist to promote Ramsay, whose visage presides over the Las Vegas Strip like some knife-wielding God. His contestants are mainly home chefs and TikTok food influencers who are literally leaping onto a rising-and-falling platform for the chance to grab ingredients so they can cook a “next level burger” or whatever. By comparison with the more elite cooking shows, Ramsay offers big cash prizes and actual jobs. But when you see “MasterChef” or “Next Level Chef” winners try to break into the Guy Fieri universe, they generally get clobbered. It’s a long way to the top if you want to cook and roll. The Padma Lakshmi-run “America’s Culinary Cup” is the latest and strangest entry into the food TV competition wars. Lakshmi stepped away from “Top Chef” in 2023 to focus on her production company and because, she said, she was eating too much. Yet on an episode I saw this month, she watched 12 chefs butcher a side of beef and then sampled a dozen beef dishes.  “America’s Culinary Cup” is essentially “Top Chef” with slightly different rules, and also a million-dollar first prize. There are some high-end contestants, but the “Top Chef” field is equally impressive. Strangely, the “America’s Culinary Cup” contestant with the highest Q rating is Buddha Lo, who has a Michelin Star and also won “Top Chef” twice, yet here he is again, cooking for our entertainment. The show has high production values, and is OK, but it’s also airing exactly concurrently with “Top Chef,” reminding us that it’s not “Top Chef.” One of Lakshmi’s regular judges is Michael Cimarusti, executive chef and co-owner of Los Angeles’s Providence seafood restaurant, where my wife and I once ate an anniversary meal that was so expensive we still feel guilt about it more than a decade later. This, to me, is the main problem with cooking competitions. They’re not relatable to the average person or to the home chef.  At the dawn of the “Top Chef” era, you could find a lot of cooking instruction for normal people on food TV. Rachael Ray, whose whole reason for being was teaching people to cook on a budget, had millions of viewers. Now she hosts a podcast. When my wife Regina and I are looking for cooking tips, we have to find episodes of PBS’s “America’s Test Kitchen” on the Roku Channel, and many of them are 15 years old.  A couple of weeks ago, Regina and I went to a lecture by British-Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi. He prepared simple dishes in a packed auditorium while also answering audience questions, and he showed us videos of himself preparing other, equally simple dishes, providing a QR code so we could all download all the recipes.  Since then, we’ve cooked four Ottolenghi dinners from the downloads and also from the signed cookbook that we bought. We had many of the recipe items in our well-stocked pantry and fridge, but they were pretty basic: herbs and spices, canned beans, olive oil, and lemons. For the rest, we had to go to the store, but we spent maybe $50. Out of that, we got 10 meals, maybe more, and everything was perfectly delicious. In contrast, I’ve never once cooked a single dish inspired by a cooking competition. I love these types of shows, and I’ll watch pretty much every iteration, but I also recognize that they’re kind of useless, self-absorbed, and snotty, even when Guy Fieri, the least snotty man alive, hosts them. To paraphrase Marie Antoinette: Watch them make cake. *** Neal Pollack, “the greatest living American writer,” is the author of 12 semi-bestselling books of fiction and nonfiction and is a three-time “Jeopardy!” champion. The views expressed in this piece are those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of The Daily Wire.

A manhunt continues for the gunmen who “ambushed” a pair of U.S. Park Police officers on Monday night, sending one to the hospital with a gunshot wound.  The officers were traveling in an unmarked Tesla in southeast Washington, D.C., when someone opened fire into their vehicle, law enforcement said during a press briefing. The officers were conducting an ongoing investigation in the area, and officials believe the shooting was targeted.  The injured officer was airlifted to the hospital with non-life-threatening injuries and released early Tuesday morning.  “We can confirm that our officer who was shot last night was released from the hospital earlier this morning,” Park Police said. “Thank you for the thoughts and prayers!” Park Police Chief Scott Brecht said that the officers “were ambushed by at least two gunmen” at 7:30 p.m. on Monday. The officer driving the vehicle was struck but managed to drive up the road, where he pulled over and was administered first aid.  “We are seeking two suspects, two black males, one was wearing a white hoodie with blue jeans, the other was wearing all black, with [a] white stripe down the sleeve and down the pant leg,” Brecht said.  Brecht did not specify what kind of law enforcement operation the officers were conducting.  “This is an example of unnecessary gun violence in our city. There’s no reason that anybody, a police officer, not a police officer, should be shot just for being out here driving through the neighborhood,”  said interim D.C. Police Chief Jeffery Carroll. Attorney General Pam Bondi was briefed on the shooting, and the FBI is assisting in the search for the suspects.  “Praying for the Park Police officer shot in Washington, D.C. The FBI is actively supporting the investigation alongside our law enforcement partners and will bring those responsible to justice,” FBI Director Kash Patel said Monday. “We will provide updates as we are able – please keep the officer and their family in your prayers.” Park Police comes under the jurisdiction of the National Park Service and has field offices in D.C., San Francisco, and New York City.

In any other time, Timothée Chalamet would be the toast of Hollywood. Young, handsome and versatile, few actors take their craft as seriously as Chalamet. So why is he suddenly considered a cartoonish villain within the halls of Tinsel Town? At a time when the industry still relies on 60-something stars named Cruise, Pitt, Depp and Reeves to fill seats, shouldn’t Hollywood be rallying around a much younger star? Instead, we’ve spent weeks dissecting an offhand comment he made during a podcast chat and wondered if his “swagger” alienated too many Oscar voters. Is this any way to treat a generational talent? Gotham/GC Images In a just a short span, Chalamet has played a bevy of iconic roles. He gave us Paul Atreidis, the complicated hero of the “Dune” saga, a remarkable take on Bob Dylan via “A Complete Unknown” and even a young Willy Wonka. He’s earned three Oscar nominations to date, cementing his status among his peers. And these weren’t emotional picks by any stretch. He earned them. His sublime turn in last year’s “Marty Supreme” had him earmarked for Oscar night glory. It was his time, especially since he missed out the year prior despite a dazzling turn as a young Bob Dylan. Chalamet spent years performing like the folk-rock legend, so when the cameras started rolling, he’d be more than ready for his closeup. Cillian Murphy bested Chalamet for his work in “Oppenheimer” all the same. It happens, but the young star never stopped hustling. He trained obsessively once more for “Marty Supreme,” the tale of a ping-pong prodigy whose moral lapses threatened his dreams of global domination. XNY/Star Max/GC Images Not only was he preparing years before the film hit theaters, he had to ape the precise ping-pong style of the 1950s. Tricking audiences that he was an elite ping-pong champion wasn’t enough.  That’s hardly new for Chalamet, who happily rolls up his sleeves for the right role. He learned Italian for his 2017 film, “Call Me by Your Name,” which landed him his first Oscar nomination. His latest extreme challenge didn’t grant him the ultimate acting prize. His fading can’t-miss status collapsed over the last few months, paving the way for the talented Michael B. Jordan to take Best Actor honors for “Sinners.” That came as no surprise to Oscar observers. They watched Chalamet’s can’t-miss status crumble in real time. First, he was working too hard to promote the film, appearing in public at pop-up events and flexing his Instagram account to drum up interest for the film. Why wouldn’t Hollywood crave such a creative approach to marketing? Will Heath/NBC via Getty Images Did anyone think a ‘50s era look at ping pong would draw huge crowds all by itself? Chalamet’s energy and enthusiasm helped make the film a hit, outgrossing the year’s eventual Best Picture winner, “One Battle After Another,” in American theaters — $95 million to $72 million, respectively. Later, some pundits were turned off by his swagger. He simply wanted that golden statuette too much. What if he earned it fair and square? Since when is swagger a negative trait in a movie star? Since now, apparently. The post-Oscars recap of Chalamet’s loss is even more dispiriting. The Hollywood Reporter essentially asked the actor to disappear for a while so we’d “miss” him, at least until the third “Dune” saga hits theaters in December. Emma McIntyre/Getty Images Over-exposure is a real concern for some stars, but Chalamet doesn’t work nearly as often as some of his high-profile peers. Heck, there’s a running joke about the ubiquitous Pedro Pascal, but Chalamet’s resume is far less busy than the “Mandalorian” star. Chalamet makes one sizable film a year, with the occasional supporting turn to flesh out his resume. The craziest attack on the star came late in the recent Oscar campaign. The actor told fellow star Matthew McConaughey that he hoped film wouldn’t drop off the cultural scene like ballet and opera have in recent years. “I don’t want to be working in ballet, or opera, or things where it’s like, ‘Hey, keep this thing alive, even though like no one cares about this anymore.’ All respect to all the ballet and opera people out there.” That set off a firestorm, even though there’s some truth to his comments. How many people can rattle off the biggest opera or ballet stars in the world, as opposed to the biggest TV or film actors? The critique got blasted far and wide, making its presence felt during the 98th Oscars ceremony hosted by Conan O’Brien. “Security is extremely tight tonight. I’m told there’s concerns about attacks from both the opera and ballet communities.” The camera quickly panned to Chalamet, who grinned sheepishly at the bit. Kevin Winter/Getty Images That imbroglio may not have hurt him in the Oscar voting tally as much as some suspected. Many votes had already been cast at that point. Still, the fallout was considerable, and some voters likely would have held it against him if possible. The notion that they would let such a silly spectacle warp their perspectives is a tragic glimpse at award season decline, not anything about Chalamet’s talent. We need younger stars to step in while the old guard recedes for character parts and retirement. Chalamet offers exactly that, but is Hollywood ready to embrace him? * * * Christian Toto is an award-winning journalist, movie critic, and editor of HollywoodInToto.com. He previously served as associate editor with Breitbart News’ Big Hollywood. Follow him at HollywoodInToto.com. The views expressed in this piece are those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of The Daily Wire.

This article is part of Upstream, The Daily Wire’s new home for culture and lifestyle. Real human insight and human stories — from our featured writers to you. *** Chappell Roan hates you. Yeah, you. Ever belt out “Good Luck, Babe!” with the windows down or scream-sing “I’m gonna keep on dancin’ at the Pink Pony Club” between tequila shots? Then she really hates you. “I’m a random b*tch. You’re a random b*tch,” Roan says, taking the side you’re not on. “Just think about that for a second, okay?” “I don’t agree with the notion that I owe a mutual exchange of energy, time, or attention to people I do not know, do not trust, or who creep me out — just because they’re expressing admiration,” Roan posts on Instagram. “Women don’t owe you sh*t.”  In another video, she claims, “I love, like, admiration. Everyone loves admiration.” If it feels like you’re being gaslit, maybe it will help to know which person you’re talking to. Grammy-winning singer-songwriter Chappell Roan lives to suck the cash out of your bank account through your rabid obsession with her lifestyle, albums, and merch. But Kayleigh Rose Amstutz (that’s her “Christian” name) wants you to back the eff off and just freakin’ leave her alone with her $10 million fortune.  She’s Chappell on stage and not-Chappell the rest of the time. Why is that so hard for non-famous poors to understand?  “I think people are scared of me,” Roan tells the “Call Her Daddy” podcast. “I think I made a big enough deal about not talking to me that people do not talk to me.” Yeah, maybe describing her followers as “predatory,” “dangerous,” and “abusive” makes some people a little nervous to say hi. If the “look-at-me” prosthetic nipple piercings on Roan’s custom Mugler gown from the 2026 Grammys red carpet (she saved the real nudity for a braless Alexander McQueen dress at Paris Fashion Week) don’t seem to go with her demands for personal space and respect, you’re not alone in juggling the mixed messaging. The parasocial relationship between stars and normies used to be clearly one-sided until social media blurred the lines and made it seem like we’re all best friends. It all came to a head for Roan when a young fan innocently smiled at her when she was allegedly off the clock. News flash: Your favorite celebrity doesn’t like you. Ada Law, the 11-year-old daughter of actor Jude Law and Catherine Harding, was staying in the same five-star hotel as Chappell Roan when Ada noticed the pop star in the dining room. As Harding’s husband, former pro soccer star Jorginho recalled, Ada walked by Roan’s table to see if it was really her favorite singer, smiled, and returned to her family’s table. It was then that Roan’s security guy reportedly took the opportunity to remind Ada of her relative nobody status. “A large security guard came over to their table while they were still having breakfast and began speaking in an extremely aggressive manner to both my wife and my daughter, saying that she shouldn’t allow my daughter to ‘disrespect’ or ‘harass’ other people,” Jorginho posted in an Instagram story. “My daughter was extremely shaken and cried a lot.” Little Ada’s homemade sign that read “Hot To Go I Am Watching Chappell Roan!” in colorful bubble letters accompanied her dad’s message.  So, let’s back this up a second. Chappell Roan has got little kids singing “H-O-T T-O G-O, you can take me hot to go,” while their parents buy them $250 VIP tickets (she donates $1 to transgender youth programs), $100 concert hoodies, $20 bejeweled retainer cases, and $16 cassette tapes that they’ll need a $100 reproduction Walkman to play. And her security team clearly got the memo that these vile supporters must be destroyed — at least, in spirit. And over hot cocoa and kid-sized caviar service, if possible. Ada was attending Lollapalooza Brazil for her birthday, but she skipped Chappell Roan’s set after enduring the brunch takedown from security. Roan offered her side of the story on social media, of course, but couldn’t be bothered to reach out personally to her young fan. Sure, the “Femininomenon” singer previously claimed her friends with kids are “in hell,” but if you have to come out with a public statement like Roan’s “I do not hate people who are fans of my music,” you might hate people who are fans of your music.  Fandom is changing in the era of celebrity oversharing on social media. But while there’s surely a time and a place for an autograph, most of us aren’t the creepy stalker type. We just love our favorite stars. We stream movies more often at home, but Hollywood still rakes in $9 billion a year in movie theater tickets. And in 2025, we proved we’re down to pay $11.5 billion for music, even before we scraped together thousands of dollars for “funflated” live concerts and events. But other than the obligatory wave from the red carpet, do the stars we support ever love us back? Justin Bieber alerted the world that he was over taking selfies even if fans paid for his record. As he posted to Instagram, “You got what you paid for AN ALBUM! It doesn’t say in fine print whenever you see me you also get a photo.” When a fan asked rapper Doja Cat for a harmless “love you” online, she confirmed she has no love for her loyal followers, adding, “I don’t even know y’all.”  After telling a group of excited young supporters outside the Valentino runway show in Italy to “Calma, calma,” actor Anne Hathaway declared, like Temu royalty, “I cannot take photos with everyone, but I will stand here and wave if you would like to take a photo.” She also made sure to smile and tell them “grazie” for staying the hell away from her. There’s a way for Chappell Roan to survive her financially lucrative yet toxic relationship with all of her fans: She could just act like she’s grateful for the life she created because people like us buy her stuff. But apparently that’s too difficult for Gen Z’s self-care queen. “It’s gonna take a second for people to really look at themselves,” Roan says, still waiting for her fans to grab onto her message regarding her untouchable status. “I have to have grace for that.” Who knows whether we’ll get that grace as a book, a tour, or a $15 bumper sticker? *** The views expressed in this piece are those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of The Daily Wire.