Excerpts Science Fiction Read an Excerpt From Null Entity by Seth Haddon Wylla and Sable take their revenge to the very corporation that keeps the galaxy turning. By Seth Haddon | Published on June 23, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from Null Entity, the second book in Seth Haddon’s Volatile Memory duology, out from Tordotcom Publishing on July 21st. With her identity erased from the Corporate Federation, Wylla is a ghost in the machine: untraceable, unpredictable, and fueled by vengeance. She fights alongside Sable, the digital consciousness she loves in ways no system could ever define. Together, they’ve built a reputation for tearing through VisorForge’s carefully constructed lies.But notoriety has a cost.When one of their attacks draws the attention of the Edenic Order—a clandestine eco-resistance whose insurgents bloom with Old Earth flora—Wylla and Sable are offered something more than revenge: a chance to dismantle VisorForge from the roots up.As they fall deeper into the Order’s radical vision, tensions rise. Wylla: aching to change the world yet seduced by thoughts of a quiet life, free of bloodshed. Sable: pushed to her moral limits when what she’s wanted since death is at her fingertips.To survive, they’ll need to embrace what makes them dangerous: two minds, one body, and a shared resolve to bring down a corporatized dystopia—no matter the cost. Buy the Book Null Entity Seth Haddon Buy Book Null Entity Seth Haddon Buy this book from: AmazonBarnes and NobleiBooksIndieBoundTarget 1 She’s back. Two words on an innocuous thread were enough to announce your arrival. Within seconds, replies bloomed across the message board, and the game began. “Local hackers are aware of our presence,” I told you. “Probably a minute before station security catches on.” You grunted, all grit and focus. I stayed silent. You crouched over a terminal in the ribbed underhalls of BSMC-07, a routing station so old its walls sweated rust and the relays never stopped buzzing. Through one of the slats, we spied the concourse below, where a mammoth screen blared an ad for cheap freight. That one would end any second. Our target lay three ads ahead. We didn’t have much time. I flicked my focus to your MARK I RABBIT, stashed aboard our vessel in the hangar bay. It monitored station chatter, sniffing for pings or scans—any sign someone had noticed the ship. For now, we were unnoticed. “Sable. Need you again.” I split in thirds—one eye on RABBIT, one on the ad playing, the rest with you. You’d hit another tangle, a firewall cinched with hypervigilance. The system’s bones were Corporate Federation’s, ad-stream code that stretched like scaffolding through half the sector. You’d cracked it before, slipping payloads into feeds they swore were untouchable. It was a supposedly neutral system all its member corps depended on. But neutrality was brittle: VisorForge’s fingerprints now ghosted the firewall. Their interests were knotted, paranoia hardened into your problem. But it wouldn’t stop you. Heat bloomed under your clothes, adrenaline riding you hard. I felt the storm: pulse in your ears, breath catching, thoughts sprinting. We’re going to get caught. Hurry. Hurry— I hovered at the edge of your panic, ready to shield. But my agitation was unfounded. You could handle it. You exhaled steady, fingers flying across the keyboard. “Okay. Project the credentials.” I fed the authorization tokens into the system for the third time. They were a gift from Pell, a chatty VisorForge tech embedded on Beta sector relays. Those creds gave us access to our mark, now two ads ahead: a sector-wide VisorForge drop hitting thirteen stations and three planets. Our tenth cyberattack in six months. The system opened, your hack landing clean. A cluster of holograms floated in the queue, and you paused on VisorForge’s. Its e-tag listed run time, proof of purchase, and transaction details, a ledger of VisorForge’s spend: a staggering sum. You opened it. The HoloProp flared to life on the static-choked screen. On the concourse, OrbitDock Realty hawked micro-cubicles for rent—eight cubic meters, eviction protection sold separately. I flicked my attention back to the terminal. Light bled around a white-toothed spokesperson, his grin stretched in uncanny cheer. “The future of performance is here,” he promised. A jovial ad for what it really was. VisorForge’s latest grab. The small-time mask manufacturer Auntie Donnelly had been absorbed, and now VisorForge was strip-mining their designs into its own catalog. Official statements called it amicable. But scav back channels whispered of a hostile takeover, not with guns but obscure statutes, wielded until the smaller company was absorbed and converted into a VisorForge asset. In the Corporate Federation, every asset meant leverage, every acquisition another seat on the council. Currently on-screen, several low-cost mask models, once Donnelly’s, now spun beneath the VisorForge banner, byronnicum-plated and brand-etched. Donnelly’s masks had never been animalistic. They were sleek, humanoid, form-fitting steel. The ad claimed all original features were intact: cognitive optimization, task automation via embedded AI, emotional dampening, team integration, real-time metric tracking. “Cheaper masks, now with the VisorForge guarantee. Maximize productivity—no distractions, just results.” “No privacy, just profit,” you murmured, smiling when I snorted. With surgical precision, you sliced into the hologram’s code and embedded our payload. Our counter-ad carried the contract we’d salvaged from my dead husband’s ship, proof of VisorForge’s pact with the Martial Syndicate. In the months after Fyster’s death, we uncovered the truth: VisorForge had cut the deal without the Corporate Federation’s knowledge. We gambled that exposure would force the board to act against VisorForge—and if not, then public outrage would. We bolstered the ad with months of evidence detailing intra-mask surveillance and the sale of behavioral data to the Syndicate and other Federation branches. As you stitched the last lines in, the hacker message board pinged, replies flooding in. User: CodeWeaver43Narrowed the signal to BSMC-07 or BTP-09.BSMC makes more sense cause it’s got a stronger comms array + easier injection vector.If I were hijacking a multi-planet ad feed, I’d launch from there too.User: SignalPathFinderr → replyingK. Which corps ship ads out of BSMC? User: CodeWeaver43 → replying HJK, POM, VF, WERT.It’s central enough for Beta sector routing. Hit it right, and you can splash twelve systems.User: Lastlightt708a → replying CodeWeaver43VisorForge mentionUser: Z4L3Nix → replying Lastlightt708aAgreed. The specter is the VF fugitive. Sotain whatever.User: Fyro22 → replying Z4L3NixSotain doesn’t exist. Btw “specter” is so lame. What the fuck kind of complex does this ghost have about VisorForge anyway? Vf’s a corp like any other.User: CodeWeaver43Sotain’s id returning a null value is just proof she’s a good hacker.→ replying Fyro22“Vf’s a corp like any other.”Go look up the Pholan’s World data dump n say that again “Hackers are catching on,” I said. “Your old ID’s been mentioned.” “Okay, okay. I’m almost—” Suddenly, you put your hands up. A symbol eclipsed the terminal screen: a tiny sapling sprouting from a seed, wrapped in roots. It looked innocuous. But it shouldn’t have been in our code, which meant it wasn’t. Sweat rolled down your temple. You’d seen it before. A variant, and never inside live tech, let alone a VisorForge framework. “What—?” RABBIT sent an alert through me. “Ignore it. Encrypted channel just opened between station security and an inbound vessel. Shit.” “Ass,” you agreed. We both knew who it was. Subsidiary Four had been on our tail for months, and here it was again, negotiating with BSMC-07 for landing clearance. You dove back into the feed, ignoring cramping fingers to shove the counterhack aside and claw back control. We had to disrupt the encrypted channel. If the Subsidiary’s credentials got through, station security could lock down every ship in the port. I had RABBIT spin up the jump drive. When I refocused, you were standing still, a deep frown plowing your brows. The terminal blared warnings. The encrypted channel between Four and station security had dropped. But it hadn’t been you. You’d had no time to act. “Sable,” you murmured. “I know.” Someone else had infiltrated. A goading message flickered across the screen: AM I BETTER THAN YOU, SPECTER? Sparks spat from the terminal as the treacly stench of burning coolant filled the shaft. You recoiled, and the unit overloaded and burst. From the ruined venting, tufts of green surged outward, slick with sap. Leaves unfurled, and a single bulb swelled, luminous and unfamiliar. “Biocode,” you breathed. And we both knew who was helping us now. The Edenic Order. On the concourse, the billboard flared with the VisorForge ad. A corporate jingle hummed, the crest unfolding like a promise: productivity, unity, control. It lasted six seconds before our splice took hold—you’d made it in time. The transition was almost elegant. First, a stutter in the voiceover. Then a flicker. The ad split open along the seam we’d left, revealing what we’d buried: the contract stamped by VisorForge and the Martial Syndicate—fine print, pay schedules, telemetry logs, surveillance records indexed by emotional spikes and dissident keywords. Employee faces flickered beside coordinates and IDs. It was raw, clean, and inarguable. VisorForge was watching; VisorForge would happily scrape your brain raw for profit. In the shaft, you pressed your eye to the slat and peered down at the concourse, waiting for a reaction. At first, nothing. Then people slowed, and stopped. “Okay,” you whispered, relieved. For this to work, we needed eyes on the feed. And for a moment, we had them. They weren’t angry yet. They weren’t afraid. But they were thinking. And then the Edenic Order fucked it up. The screen didn’t glitch this time. It dimmed like a great exhaling. The footage slowed. Green crept in from the edges as something bloomed within the circuitry, as though the machine itself had sprouted. YOU ARE NOT YOUR METRICS. ROOTS SPLIT STONE. Those words grew from moss over the screen, part of which fizzled and went black, only to flare again with a kaleidoscope of green-tinged light. Someone screamed. That beautiful pause we’d managed disintegrated as panic swept the concourse below. RABBIT pinged, sharp and fast. “Station interference escalating. Comms echoing irregular signatures. Biological growth in secured corridors. Bay lockdowns initiated.” On the outbound grid, the Subsidiary vessel still held position, flagged as “observing.” Traffic control hadn’t locked us down yet. “Bastards!” You struck the terminal. “Why did they— It was fucking perfect!” “Later!” I shouted. Fantasy tugged at me: hours from now, safe, we could lament this great fuckup. But for now— Snapping out of it, you bolted down the shaft, boots clanging over grated flooring as you ducked beneath entrails of cables spilling from open panels. At the door, you grabbed an oil-stained towel draped over piping and slung it across your shoulder. The door opened onto a thoroughfare crowded with confused dwellers. You dusted off your hands, nodding to passersby as if they had cause to know you. We’d infiltrated during the shift change, slipping in with maintenance and cargo vessels. Routine traffic dulled suspicion, but it only shielded so much. The scanners read you as human, but you lacked designations. Erasing your GIRS record had made you a specter, a null entity. That absence was its own alarm. My task was to shape a mask the networks would accept in place of truth—that Wylla Sotain no longer existed. You were maintenance worker Lars P. Olivier to anyone who might look. Easily, we climbed back onto the ship and requested release from the station lock. rabbit pinged, confirming the Subsidiary vessel was still in place. Security was busy with the Edenic hack, but traffic control hadn’t heard yet—or someone had blocked the command. We were cleared for takeoff. Hoping to throw off Subsidiary Four, we made two jumps away before pausing at the quieter edges of Beta sector. You laid your hands on rabbit and slumped back in the seat. I stayed quiet, letting you sit there stroking the mask, waiting for your thoughts to still. Our hack wasn’t meant to fix anything. It wouldn’t unmake the masks or dismantle the systems that filtered expression through corporate optimization and sold it back as freedom. But it might show someone—just one—that what they wore each day was neither neutral, nor benign, nor theirs. That was our hope. But the Edenic Order had undermined it. Fury swam through you. They’d made us complicit in their message. You are not your metrics. RABBIT chirped as new data flagged across multiple networks. You blinked, pulling yourself together. A message had appeared—simultaneously—on scavenger forums, hacker boards, and an old mask-parts trade site you hadn’t touched in years. The symbol that had spread across the billboard signed this message now. I felt your breath catch in the quiet between us. Facility 34X, GTM-11. The door’s cracked, but not for long. Step through if you can keep up. If not, stay behind and wonder what you missed. You didn’t speak, but your silence was familiar: recognition, purpose, the old burn under the skin. The message ended with a signature we knew couldn’t be for anyone else. Do you want it? Come and get it, scavenger. And I could feel it, even before you said a word. You wanted it. We both did. 2 It’s obviously a trap.” You’d said that five times now, but it hadn’t stopped you from landing on GTM-11—a backwater mining planet—and agreeing to scout the facility. Desire outweighed the risk for both of us. You sat nursing a cup of synthetic tea at an AI-manned eatery, staring across at Facility 34X. It wasn’t tucked into some hidden cliffside. It sat squarely in the heart of Nacarat City, bold as anything—which meant we’d need to wait for a lull in foot traffic to avoid attention. On the outside, it looked like a dingy warehouse: corrugated steel, reinforced concrete, windows sealed beneath bolted sheets. Graffiti scrawled across the façade, paint faded under rust. It didn’t scream VisorForge. It screamed ambush. Bright strip lighting labored against shadows. A fine rain drifted through the night, blurring flickering LEDs into a smear of color. The planet’s three hours of sunlight were long gone, and I was working double to filter the smog from your air. I rested beside your wrist on the table, our connection alive only where a strip of bare skin slipped free of your black nylon suit to touch LYREBIRD’s surface. You looked frayed. Hair once clipped sharp now hung ragged, sides shaved only to keep off the heat. Dark crescents bruised your eyes, stamped like thumbprints of exhaustion. Your body bore double the weight, your fatigue and mine pressed into the same skin. At least here you looked like you belonged. Miners carried the same marks from endless shifts. “I want it,” you whispered, “but what if this is how we end up buried?” I tried for brevity: Fine. Leave, then. I’ ll do it myself. Your mouth pulled tight. I imploded with embarrassment. Outside, a sudden crowd signaled a shift change. Three young people caught your eye. Their masks were makeshift, stitched from mismatched manufacturers. A prism—Parallax’s modular mask, unpopular for its pay-locked AI add-ons, its smooth faceplate cracked and patched with sheet metal; a discontinued VisorForge mark ii moth meant for night vision, seams leaking light as the shell strained from a rebuild used in blackout tunnels; and a Coreform miner’s rig spliced with an obsolete Auntie Donnelly, its sleek steel upper face swelling into a geometric snout for breathing in pits. Pirated overlays tangled inside: AIs whispering scam warnings or flashing market costs to catch price gouges. It wasn’t the first time we’d seen off-grid masks, but it was the first time they were worn so openly. A symptom of our leaks in this sector. Complicated emotion flared in your chest, but ebbed when the moth caught your stare and tossed you a rude gesture. Your gaze shifted to the holorotator spinning above the plaza: a forced update would be pushed to all VisorForge masks within twenty-four hours. The warning pulsed in emergency red. Mandatory System Update. Tampering with VisorForge software is prohibited. A slogan followed: A Mask Unkept is a Self Unraveled. They couldn’t risk anyone else ending up like us. Below, a nomadic adbot wheeled through the street—cheap, engine sputtering, screen flickering as it flipped through desperate, time-starved pitches. Each brand had seconds to sell salvation. KaroGen Biotechnics—“Heal fast. Keep working.”—hawked dermal graft kits, nerve dullers, and sleep stabilizers. A dime-a-dozen media sub, Flick, promised a daily ten ad-free minutes of escapism. Coreform advertised barebones masks. Built for hazard zones, the ad read, trusted by miners across five systems. A flat voice rasped: “Nothing but what you need.” Corporate code for: the bare minimum to stay alive. As the bot trundled into range of the VisorForge holorotator, its sputtering ads froze. The screen snapped into a booming counter-ad. A familiar synthetic voice—bright and chipper—rang out. VisorForge’s preferred AI. They used it for everything. “Your mask. Your mind. Trust the Original—Trust VisorForge.” You snorted at the use of proximity override on something so petty. But humor didn’t last. VisorForge still ruled the sector, even here on forgotten edges where workers bled for minerals they’d never own and wore masks they couldn’t afford to fix. “VisorForge cleaned up too well,” you murmured. “We found nothing for months, and now this is handed to us?” “It’s the Order who want us to see something,” I reminded you. You thought of the forums they’d used to bait you. Most were battlegrounds, fueled by ego, and over the years you’d ghosted through them under a dozen pseudonyms. The Order had seeded those same spaces with bait, taunting you: Am I better than you, Specter? If you can keep up… They mimicked the ecosystem, counting on pride. You told yourself duty brought you here. But part of you, burning, wanted the fight. “The Edenic Order,” you repeated, mind snagging on the altered symbol that had overridden your hack. The Order’s mark was a sapling, but this one had been ensnared in thorny roots. You worried it meant these people were different—not the Order you thought you knew. But that was the issue. You didn’t really know them, just a nurtured idea. You, who once considered giving your flesh to their cause, thought of them as monastic. Meditative. Religious in a way you respected. Not the terrorists the Corporate Federation called them. Yet your fingers tightened on the warm mug, and somewhere in your thoughts I heard: What if I’m wrong? “Even if it is a trap,” I said, “that isn’t going to stop us.” Your shoulders drooped because I was right. We couldn’t ignore something this tangible. Six months of running was wearing you down. The first month I’d been ravenous for more about lyrebird. I still had Fyster’s death rattle echoing in my stores. Revenge felt good, but not enough. Everything we found led nowhere. VisorForge wiped their tracks until lyrebird became myth. Even the early HoloProps were removed, buried under reissued brand media. For just the two of us, VisorForge had unleashed a dedicated Subsidiary. Protecting IP demanded nothing less. Subsidiaries had once been rare, deployed only to erase threats. Now reports placed them everywhere: guarding sites, overseeing byronnicum mines, embedded in offworld factories. While we chased dead ends, VisorForge broke precedent, multiplying what had once been legend and turning them into instruments that coerced, litigated, and enforced absolute control. It was no longer wielding a myth—it was manufacturing them. We’d decided to change tactics. If they wouldn’t show us LYREBIRD, we’d show everyone VisorForge. We fought the way you knew: hacking systems, disrupting their message. You were nobody to the system, so you became somebody to anyone paying attention. DDoS attacks. A leaked whistleblower report. An internal audit proving how VisorForge underperformed in safety, ethics, responsibility. We caused a months-long PR disaster. Now, someone else had taken interest. I felt conflicted. You were too busy watching the street to notice, but if you’d checked, you’d have seen my uncertainty. Not because I feared a trap, but because I feared what it meant to share this fight. This was meant to be you and me. Together. The two of us against the world. What if it became something bigger? “Why do they care?” you whispered, mirroring my wariness. You weren’t really asking me. “Why deploy biocode into a station just to help us disembark?” My attentions were split. I imagined what we looked like together, how in another life you might have sat with your fingers tangled in my hair. I loved you. I hadn’t told you; I was too frightened. “Sable?” you prompted. What did it matter if I was nothing but a woman in a mask? You cared about me. Finish your tea, and let’s go find out. Excerpted from Null Entity, copyright © 2026 by Seth Haddon. The post Read an Excerpt From <i>Null Entity</i> by Seth Haddon appeared first on Reactor.

Few Americans would read the facts in Landor v. Louisiana Department of Corrections and Public Safety without being disturbed. According to Damon Landor and the state of Louisiana, prison officials shaved his dreadlocks against his will and in violation of his religious beliefs as a devout Rastafarian. Even more appalling is the fact that Landor told the officers his dreadlocks were protected by his First Amendment “free exercise” rights, and he handed the officers a written opinion by the U.S. Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals directly on point. The officers ignored the court’s opinion. The issue in the case that made its way to the Supreme Court wasn’t whether the officers’ conduct was outrageous—it was. The narrow legal question presented to the Supreme Court was whether “appropriate relief” under the Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act (RLUIPA) may include money damages in suits against government officials in their individual capacities. In a 6–3 decision written by Justice Neil Gorsuch, the Supreme Court held that RLUIPA does not authorize money damages against state corrections officials in their individual capacities. The Court reasoned that Congress enacted RLUIPA under its Spending Clause authority, which binds only those who voluntarily and knowingly accept federal funding conditions. Because the individual prison officers were not part of any agreement with the federal government and did not personally consent to liability under RLUIPA, Landor could not pursue damages against them. The Court therefore affirmed the judgment of the Fifth Circuit. Landor argued that RLUIPA permits money damages against government officials in their individual capacities because the statute authorizes claimants to obtain “appropriate relief against a government.” The United States, supporting Landor, submitted an amicus brief where it argued that the Supreme Court’s decision in Tanzin v. Tanvir interpreted identical language in the Religious Freedom Restoration Act (RFRA) to allow damages against individual government officials. Because RLUIPA and RFRA are often described as “sister statutes,” the government argued that they should be interpreted consistently. The United States further contended that damages are sometimes the only meaningful way to remedy violations of religious liberty. Once Landor’s dreadlocks were cut, there was no way to undo the harm. Allowing damages, supporters argued, provides accountability for officials who violate clearly established religious rights and ensures that victims receive a meaningful remedy. The Louisiana Department of Corrections and the National Sheriffs’ Association had a different view. They argued that RLUIPA was designed to prevent ongoing burdens on religious exercise through injunctions and policy changes rather than to create personal liability for individual officers. They maintained that the Court’s decision in Sossamon v. Texas treated RLUIPA’s authorization of “appropriate relief” as too ambiguous to clearly authorize damages. They also argued that because RLUIPA was enacted under Congress’s Spending Clause authority, liability should extend only to entities that receive federal funds, not individual officers who are not direct recipients. Expanding RLUIPA to allow personal capacity damages, they warned, would expose sheriffs, jail officials, and correctional officers to personal lawsuits that go beyond what Congress intended. Justice Gorsuch explained that the Constitution’s Spending Clause may confer on Congress the power to spend money on the “general welfare,” but it does not “endow Congress with any power to regulate conduct.” And while Congress can attach strings to the funds it distributes, if a recipient violates those conditions, Congress can move to terminate the funding. In this case, the Louisiana’s Department of Corrections (LDOC) accepted federal funding and agreed to comply with RLUIPA’s requirements, but the individual correctional officers employed by LDOC did not “voluntarily and knowingly” consent to the terms of the agreement between the federal government and the Louisiana Department of Public Safety & Corrections. Because Congress lacks a general power to regulate individuals through the Spending Clause, the Court concluded that personal liability may be imposed only on parties who knowingly and voluntarily consent to the conditions attached to federal funds. The majority also rejected arguments based on agency law, indirect receipt of federal funds, and the Necessary and Proper Clause, reasoning that allowing damages suits against nonconsenting individuals would improperly expand federal power beyond its constitutional limits. Justice Jackson authored the dissent, joined by Sotomayor and Kagan. The dissent argued that RLUIPA requires local and state prisons that accept federal funding to accommodate a prisoner’s religious exercise, and that the statute specifically authorizes damages suits against government employees in their individual capacity. The majority “magically transforms a federal statute into an invitation to be accepted or declined, deemed binding only if each particular defendant has explicitly agreed to be penalized.” As a result, prison officials will have little incentive to accommodate the free exercise rights of prisoners, knowing full well that if they violate the law, they won’t be held personally liable.

President Donald Trump said that his Wednesday luncheon with senators will focus on ways to pass the SAVE America Act. “We have to get—we have to pass the SAVE America Act, which is voter ID, which is proof of citizenship, et cetera,” he said Tuesday in response to a question from the Daily Signal. “We have to pass it, so we’re going to have to talk about that, and many other things.” NEW: I asked @POTUS about his lunch with senators tomorrow on the SAVE America Act. “We have to get, we have to pass the Save America Act, which is voter ID, which is proof of citizenship, etc. We have to pass it, so we're going to have to talk about that, and many other… pic.twitter.com/pFML3Rw6R3— Elizabeth Troutman Mitchell (@TheElizMitchell) June 23, 2026 Trump is attending the closed-door Senate luncheon at the invitation of Florida Republican Sen. Rick Scott. “He wants, we all want to get the SAVE America Act done,” Scott told Fox News’ Kayleigh McEnany on Saturday. “I’ve invited him to lunch on Wednesday to meet with Republican senators.” The SAVE America Act would mandate photo identification and proof of citizenship in federal elections, terminate vote-by-mail, and require local governments to regularly purge their voter rolls. It would also ban men from women’s sports and prohibit transgender procedures for children. Scott said the Senate can begin passing the package piecemeal. “Let’s do a vote just on voter ID,” he said. “Let’s do a vote on just, you have to be American to vote, maybe just to share voter rolls. We’ve got to get this done.” Scott said the Senate needs to stay in session to pass the package as quickly as possible. “We all need to figure out how to come together,” he said. “If we have to stay in D.C. to get it done, let’s stay in D.C. to get this done. This is important. Secure these elections.” Scott wants senators to strategize with the president about passing the bill despite tight margins. Though the act is a top White House priority, four Senate Republicans recently joined Democrats to keep the voter ID provision out of a reconciliation package. As a result, Congress’ only remaining option to pass the bill may be to terminate the filibuster, to which Senate Majority Leader John Thune has repeatedly expressed opposition. “Let’s talk about how we get it done. What can he do? What can we do? But we’ve got to get the SAVE America Act passed,” he said. Last week, Trump demanded that the bill be attached to an extension of a spy powers provision, Section 702 of the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act. “I think the president wants to add SAVE America to pretty much everything,” Thune told reporters. “But that, obviously, is not realistic to get the FISA bill done. And we want to get the FISA bill done.” Reuters contributed to this report.

Newsom to CA State Employees: Okay, Everybody Back in the Pool!

Thanks to the 24-hour news cycle, a nonsensical or unimportant story need only capture the attention of a few journalists in order for it to receive an absurdly disproportionate amount of coverage. Such is the case with the algae-riddled Lincoln Memorial reflecting pool on TV news, which over the past week, has gobbled up nearly seven hours of airtime on liberal cable (CNN and MS NOW) and broadcast networks (ABC, CBS, and NBC). MRC analysts looked at all reflecting pool coverage on major left-wing cable and broadcast networks between June 14 and June 22, 2026. In just that nine-day period, the story received 411 minutes and 38 seconds of coverage, or an average of over 45 minutes per day. For whatever reason, CNN was uniquely obsessed with the condition of the reflecting pool, racking up a whopping 215 minutes and 37 seconds of coverage in under ten days. In just the past week, CNN dedicated 207 minutes and 45 seconds solely to the reflecting pool — approximately 30 minutes per day. Despite being a distant second, MS NOW still spent an absurd 160 minutes and 51 seconds on the pool. As with CNN, most of the progressive cable network’s algae obsession came during the past week, for an average of just over 22 minutes per day. While broadcast networks ran a combined 35 minutes and 10 seconds of coverage, that total looks smaller than it actually is. ABC, CBS, and NBC only air two and a half hours’ worth of straight news each day, as compared to the standard 19 hours on CNN and MS NOW. In cable news hours, those 35 minutes are equivalent to 267 minutes and 16 seconds, which is even more coverage than CNN aired. CBS was by far the most interested in the story, with a total of 15 minutes and 10 seconds spent discussing the reflecting pool renovations. ABC’s algae coverage reached 10 minutes and 32 seconds, while NBC brought up the rear with a still-sizable 9 minutes and 28 seconds of airtime. With numbers this big, the number of comparisons one could make are endless. One particularly alarming contrast that comes to mind, however, is the UK rape gang report published last week, which found that over 250,000 young British girls had been sexually abused by gangs of primarily Pakistani Muslim men. As of this piece’s publishing, that report still has yet to receive a single second of airtime on any of the left-wing cable or broadcast networks. Going purely by the numbers, algae in the reflecting pool is quite literally infinitely more important to the American news media. Thanks to Curtis Houck and Alex Christy for their help with this report.

Alongside such braindead takes as Jill Biden being a “hell of a doctor” and “the Holocaust isn’t about race,” ABC News moderator Whoopi Goldberg added to her lexicon during Monday’s edition of The View when she insanely claimed the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool “never had algae before” President Trump’s renovation. A take, which got support from the other members of the cast. Amid laughter from her, the rest of the Cackling Coven, and their audience of liberals, Goldberg downplayed the arrest of five alleged vandals and suggested it was Trump who vandalized the pool and beamed at the idea of him being sentenced to prison for 10 years over it: GOLDBERG: But he [Trump] is claiming that vandals are to blame. [Laughter] He says they illegally placed chemicals in the water, and left a 300-foot gash in the pool. [Laughter] Now, five people are said to have been arrested. He says a ten-year prison sentence will be strictly enforced. SARA HAINES: Oh. GOLDBERG: Well, if he's saying he's going to go to jail for ten years, I'm going to let him go. For Goldberg, the renovation was the vandalism. She even suggested that the renovation was illegal because it should have been a national referendum voted on by everyone, and she wanted everyone to sue Trump over it.   Whoopi seems to argue there should have been a national referendum vote on renovating to pool. She demands everyone in "the country" to sue Trump over the reflecting pool because he did the renovation "without our permission." pic.twitter.com/HvAnkIWkrx — Nicholas Fondacaro (@NickFondacaro) June 22, 2026   Portraying the arrests as Trump picking five random people on the National Mall to target for prosecution, Goldberg and faux conservative Alyssa Farah Griffin claimed there was no evidence of vandalism: GOLDBERG: But to accuse five people of doing this -- but seemingly there's no proof. Because I want to know who left a 300-foot gash in the pool and no body - FARAH GRIFFIN: That would be tough to do and not like get footage of somebody doing it. GOLDBERG: Yeah! And nobody would see it. While pointing at an image of Park Service workers wading through the reflecting pool, Goldberg ridiculously declared, “This thing never had algae before!” “No!” a gullible audience member could he heard shouting in response.   ABC News moderator Whoopi Goldberg claims Trump was the one who vandalized the reflecting pool and that he's going to go to prison for 10 years. She falsely claims "this thing never had algae before" the renovations. pic.twitter.com/G5egXOXCtC — Nicholas Fondacaro (@NickFondacaro) June 22, 2026   Of course, since The View was a fact-free zone, Farah Griffin chimed in to claim, without evidence, that the cleanup was killing animals: Listen, it wasn't always the cleanest thing, but like wildlife could safely live in it. There was a photo going out on X of a duck that had died in it because there are all these chemicals they're putting in it. They're putting in hydrogen peroxide. The Parks Service had been using hydrogen peroxide to clean the reflecting pool since 2021 when they switched away from chlorine, because it was safer to use for wildlife.   ABC News co-host Alyssa Farah Griffin omits the fact that hydrogen peroxide has been used to clean to pool since 2021 (when they stopped using chlorine) and blames that for killing a duckling. pic.twitter.com/PUyUUT4xz0 — Nicholas Fondacaro (@NickFondacaro) June 22, 2026   If it “never had algae before,” not only would he be a miracle of nature but also, there wouldn’t be a reason to clean it. But it was precisely the droppings from those ducks and geese Farah Griffin was talking about that would provide the food for the algae. Perhaps Goldberg was not familiar with how algae grew in pools because her attendants clean hers. The transcript is below. Click "expand" to read: ABC’s The View June 22, 2026 11:03:07 a.m. Eastern (…) GOLDBERG: But he is claiming that vandals are to blame. [Laughter] He says they illegally placed chemicals in the water, and left a 300-foot gash in the pool. [Laughter] Now, five people are said to have been arrested. He says a ten-year prison sentence will be strictly enforced. SARA HAINES: Oh. GOLDBERG: Well, if he's saying he's going to go to jail for ten years, I'm going to let him go. [Applause] Because, I mean, it seems to me [Laughter] that had he not messed with the pool [laughter], you know, it would still be a reflecting pool instead of a liquid jungle, which is what it looks like. But to accuse five people of doing this -- but seemingly there's no proof. Because I want to know who left a 300-foot gash in the pool and no body - FARAH GRIFFIN: That would be tough to do and not like get footage of somebody doing it. GOLDBERG: Yeah! And nobody would see it. And you know, they have been trying to clean this up since before it actually turned green-green. When is turning kind of pseudo-green. But so, what do you make of all of this? NAVARRO: [Laughter] Listen, I could sit here and hear you laugh about it the entire hour, but, okay, let's discuss it. GOLDBERG: Look this. [Points to screen showing workers in the reflecting pool] I mean, they look like they are fishing in the reflecting pool. They're trying to get -- they're trying to get the algae out. This thing never had algae before! AUDIENCE MEMBER: No! HOSTIN: It looked just as green as the grass. [Laughter] NAVARRO: It looks as green as the envy he has for Barack Obama and John F. Kennedy. [Cheers and applause] FARAH GRIFFIN: Like, I used to jog by this all the time when I lived in D.C. HOSTIN: Yeah, I did too. FARAH GRIFFIN: It's beautiful. One of the things I loved is you’d see ducks and geese swimming in it. Listen, it wasn't always the cleanest thing, but like wildlife could safely live in it. There was a photo going out on X of a duck that had died in it because there are all these chemicals they're putting in it. They're putting in hydrogen peroxide. Listen - GOLDBERG: That will peel the paint! FARAH GRIFFIN: That will peel the paint. (…)

Chicago was rocked in 2024 by 575 murders.Days before resetting the murder count and ushering in a bloody new year, Democrat Mayor Brandon Johnson declared an emergency on Dec. 23, 2024 — not to tackle the general bloodletting in his city but to address, specifically, violence against transvestites.'Happy Pride.'Between 2016 and July 2024, fewer than 15 "trans" and "gender-nonconforming" individuals had reportedly been killed in the city. Between 2010 and 2021, roughly 300 transvestites had been killed nationwide — in a country of well over 340 million people.Critics have blasted Johnson for "building on" his 2024 emergency declaration and blathering again about so-called "transfemicide" — this time on the eve of Chicago's bloodiest day in years.Last week, Johnson announced that further to his declaration, he was advancing a "whole-of-government approach focused on addressing the conditions that impact the health, stability, and well-being of trans Chicagoans, particularly Black and Brown trans women and trans youth, who continue to experience disproportionately high rates of exclusion and economic hardship."RELATED: 'Left-wing gender goblins': Critics torch New York Times for running 'trans dad' essay on Father's Day Audrey Richardson/Getty Images"Every Chicagoan deserves to feel safe, valued, and like they belong in the city they call home," stated Johnson.The mayor continuing yammering on Saturday night about the perceived need for cross-dressers to have access to "safe and welcoming" spaces."Since declaring a Transfemicide State of Emergency, our administration has strengthened the City’s capacity to support LGBTQ+ Chicagoans," said Johnson.Brandon's "transfemicide" remarks over the weekend came across as especially myopic given that the city was provided with yet another reminder that it isn't safe for straight people either.At least 43 people were shot or killed citywide over the weekend, a 105% increase from the same weekend last year, reported CWB Chicago. Twenty-seven people were shot on Friday alone, reportedly making it the highest one-day shooting victim count since July 5, 2024.On Friday night, a pair of thugs driving in a red SUV pulled up alongside a crowd of people, then began shooting. Fourteen victims — ages ranging from 17 to 47 — suffered gunshot wounds.According to police, eight people were ultimately killed in the shootings over the weekend, including a 14-year-old boy who was shot multiple times.Although Johnson condemned the violence, he did not declare an emergency.Multitudes of critics have lambasted Johnson over his niche concern-mongering and its timing."Brandon Johnson declared a state of emergency for trans people. Guess how many trans people were kiIIed in Chicago in the past year? One. He was kiIIed by his boyfriend. It had nothing to do with his trans identity," wrote Libs of TikTok. "Meanwhile every single weekend there are dozens of shooting[s] and multiple fatalities. Every. Single. Weekend. Why doesn’t Brandon Johnson declare a state of emergency for the actual violence in his city?"The New York Post confirmed that only one trans-identifying man was murdered so far this year in Chicago, 31-year-old Davonta Curtis.Conservative commentator Matt Walsh said that Johnson's "transfemicide" emergency declaration was "beyond parody. And delusional.""The trans murder rate is actually LOWER than the general population," continued Walsh. "And basically every trans murder victim is killed because of domestic issues, drugs, or prostitution. 'Anti-trans hate crimes' are a fantasy."Rep. Brandon Gill (R-Texas) noted that no one knows what a "transfemicide state of emergency" is but for the fact that it's a preoccupation of Johnson.The X account for the Chicago Young Republicans wrote, "All Chicagoans, including biological women and girls, are entitled to a sense of safety in their city. Your administration has made this city a dangerous place for them to live, walk their dog, and even just ride public transit to work because you refuse to hold dangerous criminals accountable.""But really glad [we're] spending time and resources on this fake issue because people with a mental disorder and a fetish wanna play pretend," added the Young Republicans group.Assistant Attorney General Harmeet Dhillon insinuated that Johnson's messaging signaling special attention to cross-dressers might not just be ridiculous but unlawful too."Reminder that ALL Chicagoans are entitled to the equal protection of the laws. If Chicago uses this inchoate gibberish theory to preference government spoils to trans identifying people or subordinate women’s rights, @CivilRights will investigate & take action, if appropriate," wrote Dhillon.Johnson responded to Dhillon by reaffirming his support for the non-straight community and wishing them "Happy Pride."Like Blaze News? Bypass the censors, sign up for our newsletters, and get stories like this direct to your inbox. Sign up here!

On June 5, 2009, Debra Jeter saw her daughters Kiersten and Kelsey for the first time in 15 days. Jeter had been in a mental institution, and her husband had been granted temporary custody of the girls and filed a temporary restraining order against her. However, upon her release, the order was removed. It was the first unsupervised visit Jeter was allowed to have with her daughters. But rather than this being a happy occasion, it quickly took a dark turn. She drove her daughters to an abandoned house in rural Texas and attacked each of them with a knife, slitting their throats. Even more shockingly, it was Debra herself who called 911 to report the incident. Hill County Sheriff’s OfficeDebra Jeter attacked her daughters with a knife in an abandoned house in rural Texas. Kelsey died almost immediately, but authorities arrived in time to arrest Jeter and save Kiersten, rushing her to the hospital where she underwent life-saving surgery. But in the aftermath, one question lingered: What could compel a woman to attack her two young daughters so viciously? The Troubled Home Life Of The Jeter Family The exact details of Debra Janelle Jeter’s life are relatively unknown to the public. Before the attack on her daughters, she was an altogether average woman, born in the late 1970s, who eventually met her husband, Lester “Lee” Jeter. She had two daughters with him: Kiersten and Kelsey. Unfortunately, all was not well in the Jeter household. By 2009, the relationship had fallen apart, and Lester filed for divorce. As The Sun reported, Debra had allegedly spent some time in a mental institution in 2004 after abusing her daughter Kiersten, though those charges were later dropped. MurderpediaLee Jeter with his daughters, Kelsey (left) and Kiersten. Between 2004 and 2009, the Jeters’ relationship deteriorated, and Debra’s mental health seemed to suffer alongside it. Shortly after Lester filed for divorce, in May of 2009, Debra attempted suicide in front of their daughters. She was then admitted to a mental health facility for treatment. During that time, Lester was given temporary custody over Kiersten and Kelsey. Lester also took out a temporary restraining order against Debra. Once Debra was released, however, a judge waived both the restraining order and the necessity for Debra’s visits with her daughters to be supervised. So it was that after a 15-day separation from her daughters, Debra told them that she had a surprise in store for them and drove them to an abandoned house in rural Texas. “I Just Killed My Children”: The Chilling 911 Call According to various reports archived via Murderpedia, 12-year-old Kelsey had written on her Facebook page the day before: “I get to see my mom tomorrow! Yay!” But that day, June 5, 2009, would be no happy reunion. In the bathroom of an abandoned ranch house in rural Hill County, Texas, Jeter brandished a knife and attacked 13-year-old Kiersten first. As her mother slashed at her, Kiersten yelled for her sister to run. Jeter dropped Kiersten and chased after Kelsey, quickly catching her and then slicing her throat. She died almost immediately. Then, just after 9 p.m., three hours since she’d picked them up, Debra Jeter called 911 and told the dispatcher, “I just killed my children.” Throughout the call, Jeter displayed an almost complete indifference to Kiersten’s wellbeing, stating that while her daughter was bleeding out, she was “in the house walking around” and expressing frustration with the dispatcher, saying things like, “Get an ambulance out here to save the one that didn’t die. C’mon, hurry up,” and, “Bitch, call them! Have you already called them?” At one point during the call, Kiersten can be heard saying something inaudibly in the background. Jeter addresses her daughter, telling her to “hold on.” “She’s asking to be saved and I couldn’t handle that and so now…” Jeter, the nursing student, said. “It’s been a long time. She might already die because she’s bled out a lot and — hold on, what baby? What did you say? I’m on the phone with 911. She said, ‘Please hurry.'” When police arrived, Jeter met them in the driveway outside the house. She had put the knife down and surrendered. Police went inside to find Kelsey dead and Kiersten barely clinging to life. She was airlifted to a hospital in Dallas and underwent life-saving surgery. Why Did Debra Jeter Attack Her Daughters? Debra Jeter had admitted to the attack and murder, but the one thing police were missing was a motive. What had compelled this woman to try and kill her own children when she had finally been granted permission to see them? MurderpediaDebra Jeter holding her daughters when they were infants. During her sentencing, Jeter pleaded guilty to the charges brought against her and explained that her actions resulted from her recent divorce. She had reportedly been unable to cope with the shattering of her family. After her suicide attempt failed, she took an even more drastic approach. Debra Jeter accepted a plea deal to spare herself the possibility of the death sentence. Instead, she was sentenced to life without parole. She was 33 at the time. Nearly a year after the attack, Lester Jeter and Kiersten met with Debra in prison. He later recalled that Debra had told him that she still hated him, but that she was sorry for what she had done. She explained to him that she was distraught over their separation and subsequent custody battle. “She figured if she felt that way, then we must all feel that way,” he said, “and she wanted to take away all of our pain.” After reading about the grisly crimes of Debra Jeter, read the story of Andrea Yates, the Texas woman who drowned her kids to save them from the devil. Then, read the story of Louise Turpin, the woman who kept her 13 children captive for years. The post The Gut-Wrenching Story Of Debra Jeter, The Texas Woman Who Slit Her Own Daughters’ Throats appeared first on All That's Interesting.

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