A Northern Irishwoman was able to watch her beautiful healthy girl celebrate her first birthday just before receiving expected news: she had just 4 months, give or take, left on this Earth. After experiencing persistent dizziness and eye irritation, Rachel Burns was told she had an advanced-stage brain tumor with a rare and aggressive mutation, […] The post Strangers Crowdfund $54,000 for 22-Year-old Mom with Terminal Cancer Who Needs More Time with Baby appeared first on Good News Network.

Excerpts Fantasy Read an Excerpt From Kerstin Hall’s Asunder Sabriel meets Witch King in Kerstin Hall’s new standalone fantasy. By Kerstin Hall | Published on June 18, 2024 Comment 0 Share New Share We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from Asunder, a new standalone fantasy novel by Kerstin Hall—out from Tordotcom Publishing on August 20th. Karys Eska is a deathspeaker, locked into an irrevocable compact with Sabaster, a terrifying eldritch being—three-faced, hundred-winged, unforgiving—who has granted her the ability to communicate with the newly departed. She pays the rent by using her abilities to investigate suspicious deaths around the troubled city she calls home. When a job goes sideways and connects her to a dying stranger with some very dangerous secrets, her entire world is upended.Ferain is willing to pay a ludicrous sum of money for her help. To save him, Karys inadvertently binds him to her shadow, an act that may doom them both. If they want to survive, they will need to learn to trust one another. Together, they must journey to the heart of a faded empire, all the while haunted by arcane horrors, and the unquiet ghosts of their pasts.And all too soon, Karys knows her debts will come due. Chapter 1 The shore. Black sand as fine as powder, the slick gleam of washed-up kelp. Over the restless grey waters, rain clouds loomed low and heavy. A lot of people died here, thought Karys. The sea breeze ruffled her dark hair, and she drew her coat tighter. Died violently. Coren Oselaw was watching her, his hands buried deep in his pockets. His jaw worked languidly as he rolled osk around his mouth. He had been chewing the resin stimulant since they left Psikamit, and the crunching had frayed Karys’ nerves to their breaking point. He noticed her scowl and raised an eyebrow. “Well?” he said. In all honesty, Karys had wanted to refuse the job. She had wanted—and still wanted very much—to tell Oselaw to take a hike into the sea. But that risked offending Marishka, and people who pissed off the Second Mayor usually found themselves floating facedown out on the honey reef. Besides, the money was good; she couldn’t deny that. “It was here,” she replied. “Something happened near the beach, something bloody. Probably within the last three days.” “Was it our boys, then?” “Maybe. I can’t tell from this distance.” He grinned, revealing red-stained teeth. “Then I guess we’d better take a closer look, eh? After you, deathspeaker.” The path down to the beach had crumbled. Fallowgrass and whiteblossom pushed up from the thin soil and rustled in the breeze. Salt glittered on the rocks. Karys moved with thoughtless assurance, picking her way along the steep track, her mind elsewhere. It had taken three hours to reach this stretch of the coast. Three full hours of Oselaw’s prattling, and he still hadn’t told her what they were looking for. Some of the boss’s people failed to make a delivery, he had said with an evasive shrug. She wants you to find out why. Karys didn’t like it, and with every step toward the water, her unease mounted. Over the hush of the waves, she could hear a deep, discordant droning—a sound like swarming wasps. The hairs on her arms and neck stood up. She did not know what the noise signified, but it felt like a living creature was trying to burrow into her ears. Buy the Book Asunder Kerstin Hall Buy Book Asunder Kerstin Hall Buy this book from: AmazonBarnes and NobleiBooksIndieBoundTarget She glanced over her shoulder at Oselaw. He was struggling down the track, sweat glistening on his forehead, eyes narrowed in concentration. Didn’t seem like he could hear it. Which suggested… nothing good. The path ended at a rocky scree below the base of the cliffs. Beyond, the beach stood desolate and untouched, and the sour stink of rotting seaweed hung thick in the air. Small copper-winged flies scattered in front of Karys’ feet. No gulls, she noted. If there were bodies here, she would have expected scavengers. The grey cliffs hunched around the shore, forming a jagged cove. “How late was the delivery?” she called back to Oselaw. “Two days.” That fit. She walked a little further and then stopped, listening. Death pressed up against her skin like a wet cloth. “How many people?” “Five to ten? It can vary.” That, on the other hand, felt wrong. Too few. Frowning, Karys closed her eyes and listened deeper, seeking out the edges of the Veneer and the bitter-bright whistle of snagged memories. She found the seam, and eased open the surface of reality. Opalescent light oozed through her eyelids. Waves crashed on the shore, and the strange droning continued, relentless and unchanging. There. The faint murmur of a woman’s voice. Are those lights? A pause. Then the memory reset, and it spoke again: the same words, the same tone of puzzlement. Are those lights? Oselaw’s boots crunched on the sand behind her. Karys kept her eyes closed, still listening, but that was all she could hear—that single thread of memory, the last words of a stranger. “They were caught by surprise,” she said. “In the water?” Sand flies whined around her legs. Karys shook her head. “I don’t think so. Maybe in the shallows, depending on the tide. But not past the breakers.” Are those lights? “It happened so quickly,” she murmured. “There wasn’t even time for fear, just… confusion.” “You can’t tell what killed them?” “No, not without a body.” She let the Veneer fall closed, and opened her eyes. “What’s going on here, Oselaw?” “Getting spooked?” “Getting tired of your bullshit. What were you smuggling?” He folded his arms and continued chewing his osk with deliberate slowness. Karys stared at him flatly, but he remained unmoved. The barest hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Is this amusing to you?” she asked. “Am I laughing?” “People died. Your people, specifically.” He paused to spit a wad of soggy resin onto the sand. He took a fresh osk ball out his pocket and popped it into his mouth. Resumed chewing. “Keep your nose out, deathspeaker. I thought you were supposed to be a professional.” Nuliere alive, but he was getting under her skin. Karys forced herself to unclench her jaw. It wasn’t even Oselaw, really, but the whole job: the secrecy, Marishka’s refusal to speak with her beforehand, and the sense that something deeply wrong had occurred here. A gust of wind caught the sea spray and whipped it through the air. Oselaw was right, she was spooked. With effort, she moderated her tone. “Look, all I’m asking is whether the cargo itself might have killed them,” she said. “That’s all.” Oselaw crunched a harder shard between his teeth. He raised his gaze in thought, then shrugged. “I doubt it,” he said. “Not based on what you’re telling me. What else can you sense?” Too many people for a routine smuggling job. Which meant that either Oselaw was lying to her—entirely plausible—or that someone else had lied to him. At least eight had died on this stretch of the beach alone. Karys pursed her lips and scanned the water. “I think their bodies might have washed out to sea,” she said. “But not everyone died here. Come on.” The cliffs grew taller as they walked down the shore. The dark sand was strewn with kelp, but no footprints, no sign of life apart from the flies. All the while, the droning in Karys’ ears grew louder. Oselaw slouched along behind her, humming to himself, but even his nonchalance seemed a little forced. You can feel something too. Karys’ skin itched. She slowed. “There,” she said. Ahead, the dolomite wall veered sharply inward, forming a bowl-like indentation at its base. Heaviness lingered over the stone-strewn sand: the weight of many deaths, the crush of memory. Tucked inside the curve of the rock was a dark oval. Kelp and driftwood choked the mouth of the cave, and a fringe of green slime hung from the roof. The droning was coming from inside. “Well, look at that,” said Oselaw. “You found our collection site.” “What?” He gestured to the cave entrance. “The place where our boys usually leave the goods. The boss does a retrieval every few weeks; sends me out on a fishing boat to collect. It keeps us out of the port authority’s—” “You knew this was here?” “Well, yeah, that’s kind of my role, logistics and such. Makes you wonder if the boys managed to bring along any merchandise before they snuffed it.” Noticing her expression, he raised both hands. “Kidding, kidding! Although I don’t see what’s wrong with making the best of a bad situation.” Karys gritted her teeth. “Why not bring me here in the first fucking place?” “Because this place is need-to-know. You didn’t. But seeing that we’re here now anyway, want to take a look inside?” “Absolutely not.” “Oh, don’t be like that.” “I have no intention of crawling into that hole, Oselaw. Not in my job description.” “Sure, but you are getting paid to find out what happened. And there’s more likely to be a body stuck inside, right? Harder for the sea to reach?” Karys returned her gaze to the narrow opening. The waves rocked the shore behind them. Oselaw was, annoyingly, right. “Coward.” Oselaw ambled past her, grinning. “I’ll even go first.” “How gallant.” He crouched and awkwardly manoeuvred his legs through the gap, sliding inside on his back. “You’ll find it interesting.” He pushed himself forward and disappeared down the hole. His voice drifted out of the darkness. “It’s not what you’d expect.” Karys looked back at the beach. There were still a few hours of daylight left, and the weather would hold until evening—even with the delay, they should be able to get home to Psikamit before the storm hit. She just couldn’t shake her sense of foreboding. “Hey! Deathspeaker!” yelled Oselaw. She sighed and crouched. The sand was damp and fine under her hands, and the rocks proved smooth as polished metal. She crawled into the gap, and the temperature dropped sharply. The passage ahead only stretched about eight feet in length, but it sloped downwards at an uncomfortable angle, and she suddenly understood why Oselaw had tackled it feetfirst. She felt like she was going to fall on her face. The perfect way to finish this job. She reached her hands out in front of her, groping her way forward. By breaking my own nose. Oselaw’s chewing sounded even louder in the closed space. Her outstretched fingers met a flat, glassy surface, colder still than the air. Floor tiles. “Mind your head,” said Oselaw affably. Karys stood up. Judging by the light filtering through the passage and the way that noises echoed, they were inside a small chamber. She shivered. The cold cut straight through her clothing. “The boys stumbled upon this place a few years ago.” Oselaw walked forward. “Asked around town and apparently no one’s heard of it, leastwise nobody willing to talk, except some crab-haulers down in Creakers. And they won’t touch the place; they warn us off, don’t even like speaking about it. Superstitious old bastards.” He snapped his fingers. Blue light bloomed across the walls, spiderwebbing outward along thin channels scored into the stone. In seconds, the whole chamber was illuminated. “It was perfect for us,” he said. “We couldn’t believe our luck.” Karys blinked in the sudden icy brightness. The chamber was small, dank, and curiously shaped: the polished stone walls undulated like frozen waves. The light gleamed crisp and cold through the rock. “That’s hallowfire,” she said slowly. Oselaw flashed his teeth at her. “Worried your master will be mad?” She couldn’t help it; she flinched. “We shouldn’t be here. This isn’t the sort of thing you mess around with.” “The Lady is superstitious, who would have thought?” “I’m being serious. Your people are all dead; surely that’s a hint?” He brushed aside her concern with a careless wave of his hand. “We’ve been using the place for years. Besides, you said that most of them died on the beach.” “I never said that.” “All right, fine, but you said that they were ‘surprised’ on the beach. Right? So it seems to me that the threat came from outside and our boys ran inside to hide. Whatever killed them just followed.” He pressed on before she could object. “Trust me, there’s nothing left to haunt this place. Let’s just finish up here and head back to town, hey?” Karys bit her tongue. “Come on,” he coaxed. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see.” She wavered, and then relented. “Hazard pay,” she said. “And Marishka owes me a favour.” The chamber grew brighter as they walked, the hallowfire reacting to their presence. Goldback crabs scuttled away from their feet, and water dripped and echoed all around. By the looks of it, the passage flooded at high tide; driftwood and sand gathered in mounds around the edges of the room, and the smell of decaying kelp was suffocating. Set into the far wall was an ornate stone archway, where the hallowfire converged like lightning drawn to a rod. “We’ve only ever used the outer chambers,” said Oselaw. “But it makes you wonder what it used to be like, back in the old days.” Karys made a noncommittal sound, and sought out the edges of the Veneer again. A panicked rush of whispering washed over her; unnatural colours swarmed her vision. Nothing clear, nothing but a distorted haze of fear, and the droning growing ever louder. “It gets drier a little way further in,” said Oselaw, oblivious. “And hey, look at this.” He gestured to the stones of the archway. Karys released the Veneer and leaned closer, then recoiled in disgust. Pitted human teeth studded the granite, flecks of pale yellow in the grey. There must have been hundreds of them, scattered in random, incomprehensible patterns—dice cast over a tekki board. “Marishka said the Bhatuma’s name was Lilikess,” continued Oselaw. “Said that she ruled Psikamit’s waters back in the day. Isn’t that interesting? Must have liked teeth.” “Please stop talking.” Karys stepped through the archway. “Ships that sail this coast without her mark still get wrecked, you know.” “Give it a rest, Oselaw.” He sniggered. “I wonder how old Lili would feel about an Ephirite lackey trespassing on her Sanctum. My guess is unhappy. Maybe even mad.” “In her position, I’d be more annoyed about smugglers using my home as a loading bay.” “Heh. Maybe.” The hallowfire branched over the walls ahead, bifurcating and rejoining in streaks of silver-blue. A set of stairs led upwards into the cliffs, each step dressed in a layer of fur-soft saltmoss. Their footfalls echoed. Am I making a mistake? Karys tucked her hands into her armpits to keep them warm. If Sabaster did uncover that she had been nosing around Bhatuma ruins, he would probably call her compact in a heartbeat. And then, in all likelihood, spend the next three hundred years knitting her skin into a quilt of penitence. Even so, she could not entirely quell her curiosity at the blazing lines of the hallowfire. Remarkable, for a Sanctum this large to have survived the the most powerful heralds, but far from inconsequential. Foul-tempered, vain, lustful, inclined to fits of jealousy—fairly typical for a Mercian Bhatuma. She had been slaughtered out on the reef by three Ephirite; her faithful and Favoured later called it the Day of Black Waters. The stairs came to an end at a second archway. Beyond it, a passageway curved away to either side, the walls covered in large silver disks like the scales of a gigantean fish. Hallowfire rippled out across the floor and the ceiling, bright as the midday sun. “The boys usually leave the goods here,” said Oselaw, with obvious disappointment. “They must have fled further in.” Karys’ teeth chattered, and she rubbed her arms. “Embrace, why is it so cold?” “It’s always like this. Want me to warm you up?” “I’d freeze to death first.” “Suit yourself.” He gestured to the left. “This way.” The walls continued their smooth, gleaming curve down the passage. By now, the droning had grown so loud that it drowned out the sound of Oselaw’s chewing. A byproduct of the hallowfire? The Veneer here felt sodden with old power, heavy and difficult to penetrate. Karys didn’t like it. Twenty feet ahead, the lights ended where the passageway opened up to a kind of cavern or hall. She slowed. “What?” She pointed to the floor tiles at her feet. “Blood spray.” Fine black flecks splattered the glassy surface. Oselaw crouched to study them more closely. He spat again, meditatively, then nodded and stood back up. “That’s a promising sign,” he said. “Good to know the boys did come through here. We must be getting warmer.” “Oselaw.” He ignored her, and continued forward into the hall. “Whatever killed your people, how do we know it’s not still here?” He snorted, and made a curt gesture over his shoulder. “No body, no payment.” The droning grew louder, and Karys rubbed her forehead. This is a mistake, her instincts urged. Leave, get out of here. Ahead, Oselaw came to a sudden stop. “Oh,” he said, in a markedly different tone. “Well, that’s disturbing.” She followed him out of the passage. Her impression had been wrong: the space beyond was not a cavern, but a kind of hollowed-out tower. Rings of hallowfire ignited in reaction to their presence, lighting up the floors directly appeared fathomless and infinite. Eight sets of intricately carved stairs folded around the perimeter of the chamber, connecting the higher and lower levels like cells in a beehive. It looks like a stepwell, Karys thought. But why build one right beside the ocean? Oselaw stood beside the low central balustrade. At first she thought that he was staring into the pit below, but as Karys drew closer she saw that he was actually looking at something on the floor. “Ah,” she said. A human foot lay in a pool of blood. It still wore a fitted sandal and a silver anklet, but the flesh had been cleanly severed just below the calf. The yellow-white gleam of bone stood out from the dark gore. “I don’t suppose you can use that?” asked Oselaw. His tone was idle, but Karys noticed that he was sweating in spite of the chill. She shook her head. “We should leave,” she said. Oselaw leaned over the edge, peering down at the lower levels of the stepwell. When he failed to reply, Karys took a step forward. “Listen to me.” Her heart beat fast. “I don’t like saying this, but we’re too far out of our depth here. This doesn’t feel right.” Nothing from him. He kept gazing into the dark, acting like she wasn’t even talking. Karys waited, her nerves strung tight, expecting him to move or speak, to do something. The silence dragged. Nothing. “Oselaw? Coren?” He seemed focussed; he was squinting a little, straining to penetrate the pit’s darkness. “There’s something down there,” he said. His voice made Karys’ skin prickle: he sounded absent, distracted. She shivered and backed swiftly toward the passageway. Enough of this. The droning burned her ears—it was like two white-hot needles drilling into her skull. “I’m going,” she declared. “If you want to stick your neck out, that’s on you. I’ve seen enough to report back to Marishka.” “No, there’s something… someone’s down there.” He leaned further over the edge. “They’ve got lights.” Karys was only a few feet from the passage when his words sank into her brain. She felt like ice water had been upturned over her head. “Maybe it’s one of the boys,” Oselaw muttered. “They could have hid, laid low for a couple—” “Oselaw, get away from there.” Startled by the vehemence in her voice, he turned around. At the same time, an amorphous, translucent figure rose from the stepwell behind him. It moved silently through the air, liquid and softly shining and fast as quicksilver, and wrapped itself around Oselaw, enveloping him completely. What happened next happened quickly, and was almost too horrific for Karys to comprehend. In the blink of an eye, Oselaw’s skin peeled back and inverted. A snatched glimpse of organs, a single heartbeat, and then his flesh erupted with blood. The creature’s body flushed scarlet. Karys’ thoughts ground to a dead stop. The creature hovered in the air, swaying slightly. Glowing gold pinpricks played across its skin, growing dimmer and brighter like waves lapping the shore. Are those lights? Are those lights? Are those lights? Karys drew a shallow breath. Her head spun. What just… what just happened? Oselaw had vanished like conjurer’s trick, one second whole and human, the next a bloom of red. Gone. Dead. She stood within the mouth of the passage, and the creature seemed yet to notice her. About thirty feet separated them, perhaps less. Probably less. Digging her fingernails into her palms, Karys slid one foot backwards. Her head felt like it was going to explode from the droning in her ears, and this… this thing was the source. Another step. She needed to retreat around the curve of the passage, out of its line of sight. The redness was slowly fading from the creature’s body; it was digesting, she realised. It was dissolving Oselaw down to nothing. Another step. Embrace, all the smugglers, this was why she had not found bodies; there had been nothing left to find. The hallowfire shone down from the ceiling like a floodlight, leaving her devastatingly exposed. Could the creature see? Could it hear her heart pounding out of her chest? Another step. She willed the abomination to remain still, willed it like a prayer or a mantra: don’t move, don’t move, don’t move. Her mouth tasted sour. Another step and the walls shielded her from sight. Karys’ limbs went weak. She trembled violently, clenching her jaw to stop her teeth from chattering. Fuck, Oselaw! He had been right in front of her, right there, and she had just… fuck. She drew a small, silent breath. He had been right there, and she… No, she needed to keep it together. Not much further. Not much further, and she would be back at the stairs. Her mind burned with the vision of Oselaw’s body disintegrating, like someone had ripped the stitches from cloth. The first archway stood ten feet from her now. Karys could not help it—she moved faster, less quietly. They should never have trespassed on the Sanctum; from the start, she had sensed the quiet, watchful malice of this place. But she would claw her way back to daylight, and return home to Psikamit, and never take a job from the Second Mayor again. The stairs were slick and treacherous; she took them two at a time. What am I going to say to Marishka? Oselaw was… I was— Like a floodgate bursting open, the droning suddenly amplified to a roar in her ears. But this time, it emerged from the darkness ahead of her. Karys stumbled to a halt, catching herself against the wall. Where the hallowfire ended at the threshold of the tooth-studded archway, yellow lights rippled like stars reflected on the surface of a wave. A second creature. Karys ran, heedless of the noise. Her boots hit the tiles, each stride loud as a drumbeat in the silence. Into the shining passage again, but this time she took the right fork, nearly losing her footing as she careened sideways over the smooth floor. She did not dare look backwards. Hallowfire blazed to life around her as she sprinted deeper into the Sanctum, and the droning dogged her steps. The passage ended at a new set of stairs leading to a lower floor. Karys flew down them—too fast, too careless—and tripped. Her knees struck the tiles, and pain shot upwards through her right thigh. A heartbeat later, she was back on her feet. The walls here were different, darker, carved with strange spiralling designs, and the hallowfire had dimmed. At her back, the droning grew louder and louder; she was losing ground and all she could see was Oselaw’s expression of surprise before his face collapsed, the twisting of skin and sinew and muscle, the way he turned inside out. She reached another landing, and ran straight into something hard. The impact knocked the air out of her lungs. She staggered, gasping, and realized there was a person in front of her, an unfamiliar man, and then he grabbed her arm and yanked her sideways through a new archway. Excerpted from Asunder, copyright © 2024 by Kerstin Hall. The post Read an Excerpt From Kerstin Hall’s <i>Asunder</i> appeared first on Reactor.

Should We Demolish the Sites of Mass Shootings?

The Democrats and their media allies now have a new shtick. If they find a video to be embarrassing, especially videos revealing Joe Biden's cognitive decline, they now pretend they are really "deepfakes" and "cheap fakes." On the CNBC afternoon show The Exchange on Monday, anchor Kelly Evans previewed a segment with current CNBC contributor and former Democrat Senator Heidi Heitkamp: "The rise of AI-generated deepfakes is on the rise ahead of this November's election. Is it too late for Congress to regulate the industry?" Evans put on screen the video revealing Joe Biden turning around and wandering a few steps away during a skydiving exhibition at the G-7 meeting in Italy. Watch the two versions of the video in which the CNBC host and contributor desperately want you to believe the first is a mere AI fake despite the fact that the second video shot at a different angle also shows Biden wandering away from the rest of the group.     KELLY EVANS: Senator Heitkamp, let’s show the first video of President Biden from the G7 summit recently that was making the rounds, and then we can show the actual video of President Biden in that same moment. Here’s the first one where it appears to show him kind of wandering off, as you can see, generating tons of headlines and reaction to what exactly had happened in this moment. There’s the Italian leader trying to bring him back. Then we can also show the video of what that looked like in real time. Here’s the actual video where you see it from a different angle, kind of what was going on, a little bit more context around the situation and so forth. I guess my question would be, you know, where does this fall if we are so concerned about deep fakes and yet just simple editing or different views of the same kind of material, Senator, can also result in confusion? HEIDI HEITKAMP: Absolutely. The technology has been there to use slow motion, to try and use other kinds of technologies other than AI. The thing about that video is it was first alt — not altered, but the dimensions was changed by the RNC, was picked up by the New York Post, it was spread broadly around, I think at one point I think 3 million hits. Guess what? They have reputational risk and that shouldn’t have happened. You know, when you hear the explanation of what President Biden was doing, it makes perfect sense that he was watching something off in the distance, but it makes it look like he was staring at nothing. So, you know, I call on the DNC, the RNC and all the legitimate political organizations to stop it. I mean, if you want to play a video, play a video, but make sure that it hasn’t been altered. The problem with AI is that it is so intuitive and most people can use it, and so it can really fall in the hands of a lot of nefarious actors, people who don’t have reputational risk, that we can’t call to the carpet, especially foreign actors who may have a stake in this outcome. And so this, I think, it goes back to common sense. You will not have an easy way to figure out whether this is real or not. I always tell people, if somebody wants you to look at this and say, ‘Isn’t this horrible?’ you should automatically think, ‘You know, maybe that didn’t happen. Maybe I need to find out if that’s actually what happened and what the voices actually said. "Maybe that didn't happen"? This happened, regardless of the camera angle.  So what they call the "real video" showed exactly the same scene but at a different angle from what Evans and Heitkamp are suggesting was an AI fake video in the first clip presented. It's not just that Biden turns around, but that Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni moved quite quickly in both videos to retrieve the wandering Biden.  It's hard to believe that Evans and Heitkamp think the viewers could be fooled by their explanation but their extreme gaslighting does reveal the level of their desperation to salvage Biden. Meanwhile they should understand why their CNBC audience are laughing at their attempts to pull off that AI fake excuse based on the laughable "proof" of different camera angles that still reveal the same event took place. Sorry, but normal people correctly scoff at the absurd notion that if a scene is recorded at different angles then that means one of the recordings has been somehow "faked" or "altered."

An illegal immigrant was apprehended in a citizens' arrest and taken into police custody after he allegedly kidnapped two teens in a New York City park and sexually assaulted one of them.Around 3:30 p.m. last Thursday, two 13-year-olds, one male and one female, were hanging out together at Kissena Park in Queens when they were suddenly approached by a man wielding what police later described as a "large machete-style knife."He showed up around 1 a.m. the following morning, and they immediately apprehended him, holding him in a headlock and binding his legs together with a belt until police arrived.With the weapon in hand, the man forced the teens to walk to a remote, wooded area of the park. There, he seized their cellphones, tied them together with shoelaces, and proceeded to rape the young girl. He ordered the kids to stay put for 20 minutes and then fled the area.The teens managed to free themselves from their bonds and ran back to their school, where they reported the attack. School officials then called police.The victims also gave a detailed description of their attacker. They claimed he was an Hispanic man in his 20s with dark, curly hair, braces, and a chest tattoo of a bull or boar with horns.Officers then captured images of the suspect riding a bike. They then posted the images on flyers and on social media, hoping that someone might recognize him. — (@) That good, old-fashioned police work paid off. Residents recognized him as living at their migrant shelter and planned to nab him if they had the chance.On Monday night, "half a dozen good Samaritans" sat and waited for the suspect, WABC reported. He showed up around 1 a.m. the following morning, and they immediately apprehended him, holding him in a headlock and binding his legs together with a belt until police arrived.The man was taken into police custody and then transported to an area hospital for minor injuries he sustained during his apprehension.The man was later identified as Christian Giovani Landi, a 25-year-old Ecuadorian national who entered the U.S. illegally in June 2021. In the last three years, he has racked up several transit summonses but no other arrests, ABC News said. Whether ICE has yet issued a detainer against him is unclear.At this point, Landi is still considered just a "strong person of interest" in the park rape, though pictures of a shirtless Landi walking with police show he has a large animal tattoo on his chest. Charges against him are pending.NYPD Commissioner of Operations Kaz Daughtry claimed that the victims were "invaluable" in helping find their alleged attacker. "The sketches from those brave kids were invaluable," he said. "The city's response was a resounding 'no' to this heinous crime."Like Blaze News? Bypass the censors, sign up for our newsletters, and get stories like this direct to your inbox. Sign up here!

Chicago Mayor Brandon Johnson (D) announced on Monday the creation of the city's reparations task force to correct the "historical wrongs committed against" black residents and has appropriated $500,000 in the 2024 budget for the task force's establishment. In his executive order, Johnson pointed to other cities and states that have gone forward with some form of reparations for black people. The order also offers an official apology to black Chicagoans."As a Black man, and as the leader of a major U.S. city, I have a responsibility to set the tone on how we rectify decades of neglect. Today's Executive Order on the Black Reparations Agenda is a pledge to confront Chicago's legacy of inequity," Johnson wrote on X.The money going toward the task force and its forthcoming recommendations comes at a time when Chicago's budget deficit is over $500 million. — (@) The task force will "support the strategy, implementation, and engagement of the Chicago Black Reparations Agenda." Within 90 days of the order being signed, the mayor's office will invite members of the Black Caucus to "co-design a framework and selection process for the Task Force, to include members of the community."Within 12 months, the task force will provide a report that will lay out how to:Create a city definition and framework for black reparations,Design educational tools for city staff to learn about reparations,Conduct a study of all policies that have harmed black Chicagoans "from the slavery era to the present day,"Make a series of recommendations that will serve as appropriate remedies and restitution for past injustices and present harm consistent with international standards, andRecommend appropriate ways to educate the Chicago public in the report. The city's "chief equity officer" will be providing quarterly updates to Johnson's office.The money going toward the task force and its forthcoming recommendations comes at a time when Chicago's budget deficit is over $500 million, according to NBC Chicago. The city has made the deficit gap worse by taking upon itself to care for the thousands of illegal immigrants who have come to the United States through the border crisis triggered by President Joe Biden's administration.There is also the issue of the $45 million in pension costs.

A U.S. Secret Service agent was robbed at gunpoint amid President Joe Biden's fundraising visit in Los Angeles.The agent was returning from work Saturday night when he was confronted in a residential community in Tustin, which is about an hour southeast of L.A., the Secret Service told the Associated Press.No suspect had been found as of Monday, police told the outlet, adding that police said a silver Infiniti FX35 was spotted leaving the scene.Tustin police said the agent's bag was stolen at gunpoint, the AP reported, adding that the agent fired his gun during the incident. The Secret Service said it doesn't know if anyone was hit by gunfire, the outlet reported, adding that the agent wasn't injured. ABC News said the agent was off duty at the time.Police were called about the robbery shortly after 9:30 p.m., the AP said, adding that officers found some of the agent’s stolen belongings in the area.No suspect had been found as of Monday, police told the outlet, adding that police said a silver Infiniti FX35 was spotted leaving the scene. Tustin police provided an image of the suspect's vehicle as part of a news release.Police added that there was no known threat to the public.How are observers reacting?A few commenters reacting to the Tustin police department's news release on Facebook seemed disturbed and perplexed over the incident:"So someone, with no description, robs a secret service agent WITH A GUN in a residential area, but there is no threat to the public??? And how does the agent take a shot at someone he can't describe? He saw the gun. He can't give the height/build at the least, or voice?" one commenter wondered."Situational awareness?" another commenter pointed out in relation to the agent's handling of the reported armed robbery, adding that "hopefully" the agent is "not on protection detail." Hopefully.Users on X weren't happy, either:"Just the people [who are] supposed to keep the president alive," one user deadpanned."Welcome to California," another user quipped. "Hope you enjoyed your visit."Another commenter directed a swipe at left-wing California Gov. Gavin Newsom, saying, "Fantastic job, sir."Like Blaze News? Bypass the censors, sign up for our newsletters, and get stories like this direct to your inbox. Sign up here!

Joe Biden is rumored to be passing an executive order that would give hundreds of thousands of undocumented spouses of American citizens amnesty. The proposal is set to be called “Parole in Place.”“Which of course will open up a pathway to permanent legal status and U.S. citizenships for some beneficiaries by removing an obstacle in U.S. law that prevents those who entered the U.S. illegally from obtaining green cards without leaving the country,” Sara Gonzales, who is less than thrilled, says. However, Gonzales doesn’t believe the plan stops there, referencing the “Great Replacement Theory.”“You have to be a far-right crazy crackpot to think that that’s what they’re doing. This isn’t about bringing in a bunch of new Democrat voters,” Gonzales mocks. Another plan being prepared by the Biden administration would streamline the process for “dreamers” and other “undocumented immigrants” to request waivers that would make it easier for them to obtain temporary visas. Blaze Media digital strategist Logan Hall is on the same page as Gonzales. “I’m really so sick of the newspeak around this, calling them undocumented,” he says, adding, “All these nonsense terms.” “They’re illegals, and so the idea is that this newspeak kind of frames it in a different way, to where the left owns the terms of the debate. And now, whenever you use these terms, you are entering their playing field,” he continues.The mainstream media has even been framing Biden’s plan as “immigration relief.”“I don’t know how they spin this, to where it’s immigration relief. Turning hundreds of thousands of illegals into citizens or granting them legal status is somehow relief, but this is just how insane the left has gone,” Hall says.

Former homeless man Jared Klickstein says California's policies on homelessness are failing, calling the current system a jobs program for liberal arts graduates. Klickstein has experienced the horrors of San Francisco's street encampments firsthand and lived for years as a drug-addicted homeless person who was supposedly to benefit from California's extremely generous policies toward those who live on the streets. With the state spending literal billions on fighting homelessness, Klickstein is faced with the question of whether the problem is the people making the policy or the people enforcing the policy. "I think there's people that want to help and there are people in these organizations that mean well, [but] the policy is completely broken." At the same time, Klickstein believes California has built a homeless-fund infrastructure that is itself its own economy that benefits from a large population of street-sleepers. "What we have is a jobs program for liberal arts graduates that are sort of failures and couldn't get jobs in other arenas. We've propped up this entire job market of nonprofits that sort of maintains homelessness. It's kind of free-range homeless; they're like shepherd that maintain this situation." 'This is very bad. It sounds like he is sizing me up as a product he's going to sell.' Thousands of homeless are not on a track to get off the streets. It's more like putting the homeless in a comfortable situation while maintaining homelessness, he explained. Homeless people aren't necessarily being viewed as "human"; they're viewed as "job security," Klickstein said. In some ways they aren't even human, he admitted, referencing addictions to drugs like fentanyl that he described as putting people in a "zombie"-like state. The new author said that after years of pushing from friends, he published his own story about living on the streets as a "meth-addicted homeless person." It's a (drug-addicted) comedy! Klickstein's book, "Crooked Smile," has resonated with popular comedians like Matt McCusker, who spoke about it on his podcast with Shane Gillis. McCusker wrote a blurb for the back of the book after receiving a copy from Klickstein, who said the comedian was incredibly receptive. "Comedians have an ethos that they just want to lift people up," the San Francisco native said when asked why he thought comedians have responded so well. Along with comic Sam Tallent, McCusker and Gillis joked about the stories in the new book. Klickstein said that even though it's a book about drug use, homeless people, and almost being human trafficked, it's the story's "comedic elements" that have attracted so many eyes. "You have to laugh at it," he added. The writer said joking is a way to overcome trauma instead of letting it eat you alive. This mirrors what a lot of comedians cite as the reason for talking about some of their darkest experiences. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Jared Klickstein (@jklickst) Naked in a suitcase and nearly sold McCusker spoke about a story from "Crooked Smile" about the author being beaten and put in a duffel bag by two drug dealers; Klickstein said that wasn't true. It was actually a suitcase. "I was a homeless drug addict in San Francisco, and I wound up in a situation where my female drug dealer had suspected that I had done her wrong, that I had stolen a cell phone from her and sold it to somebody." While he was going over to the drug dealer's home to purchase drugs, "she had plans of attacking me with her sister," he detailed. "I got beat up by two women; one of them had a really large knife." "They told me to get naked and get into a suitcase," he recalled. "So I did." After realizing that it wasn't a good situation to be in, Klickstein said the drug dealers insinuated that they were going to kill him and put his body parts in said suitcase. "They wanted to make sure I could fit in there, and I did." He managed to "negotiate" his way out of the suitcase and was then ordered to sit nude in a closet. After some time passed, a friend of the drug dealer came over nicknamed "Cousin Meth." Cousin Meth brought another person with a gun, who then made it clear to Klickstein that the goal was no longer to kill him, but rather to traffic him, most likely as a sex slave. With a smirk, Klickstein recalled being asked to "try to look sexy" as pictures were taken of him. He was also asked his height and weight so he could be evaluated by potential human trafficking customers. "This is very bad. It sounds like he is sizing me up as a product he's going to sell," he remembered thinking. While Cousin Meth was making a series of phone calls asking if anyone was interested in Klickstein, the writer imagined that he was likely going to be sold into a "dungeon" and it was probable that the buyer would be a man. However, no one really wanted to buy Klickstein, as he looked "crazy," was on heroin, and was "emaciated." Klickstein noted that the drug dealer was only his current drug dealer because her boyfriend, who typically supplied him with drugs, went to prison. "He actually went to jail; that's why she took over the operation," Klickstein said. The boyfriend called the woman from jail and explained to her the consequences of forcible confinement and murder and how she would likely end up in prison if she didn't let Klickstein go free. "His name was T-Bone. So thank you, T-Bone, he actually convinced Chantal to let me go." The ordeal was estimated to have lasted 12 hours, but the author admitted he was drugged with the common date-rape substance GHB, and after his release, he passed out in a 7-Eleven before being picked up by police. Funding the homelessness problem "The way that [governments] are utilizing this money is not working," Klickstein insisted. Things are being done in a backward manner without considering human incentive. The policies have incentivized bad behavior, Klickstein continued, posing the question that either policymakers in California don't know what they are doing or they are "embezzling" millions of dollars. While the problems will take money to solve, the simple act of pouring funding on a problem that has been exacerbated by poor policy simply won't work, he said. The author also expressed that he thinks that the government has incentivized bad and antisocial behavior through laws that have softened punishments for theft and drug use. California's solutions haven't worked, so whose have? 'What I'm up against is a progressive ideology that is basically "let this person just be insane and die slowly in the street."' Klickstein said he lived in south Florida, where being homeless is essentially illegal. "That is one strategy I suppose," he joked. "It's not really a good path in my opinion ... making rules like that probably drive people to cities that are more lenient towards the homeless." He then pointed to Houston, Texas, as a place that has reduced its homeless population significantly. Houston's methods of putting NGOs under one banner, as opposed to being in competition with one another, seems to have worked, at least on paper. According to a 2023 report by Governing, the city once had competing nonprofits that didn't communicate at all. Since 2011, Houston has reportedly dropped its homeless population by 64%, and 17% from 2022 to 2023. That was a reduction from 8,500 people to 3,200, with 2,000 of those homeless living in shelters as of that publication. Klickstein said that finding a path to housing a person or admitting a person to a mental health facility is now seen as the "conservative" viewpoint. "What I'm up against is a progressive ideology that is basically 'let this person just be insane and die slowly in the street.' Which doesn't really make sense to me." "That is the way it has been handled in San Francisco." Illegal immigration in California, while not the driving issue, hasn't helped, Klickstein revealed. He stated the issue has indeed driven up the cost of housing, which is a contributing factor to keeping people off the streets. "Houses where I live rent for $5,000-$6,000. I'd imagine that is due to an influx of people moving into the city who are looking for a house." Not much can be done about that, he admitted, besides actually curbing illegal immigration. Helping Hunter Biden Before the interview ended, Klickstein wanted to offer advice to the first son, Hunter Biden. His best suggestion: "Hunter needs to laugh a bit." "I get it; he needs to walk this line, and he takes his role very seriously, but he is the funniest thing about this presidency. People would respect him more if he had a sense of humor about [his transgressions], and people would like him more if he was more humble about selling state secrets for crack." "Crooked Smile" is available on Amazon. Klickstein provides the following synopsis: "If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to grow up in a crack house, get adopted into a rich neighborhood when you're 12, then become a chronically homeless drug-addict criminal for 10 years, then escape it, and then outline a plan on how we can actually help the many thousands of current homeless drug addicts get back on their feet, you might like my new book." View this post on Instagram A post shared by Jared Klickstein (@jklickst) Like Blaze News? Bypass the censors, sign up for our newsletters, and get stories like this direct to your inbox. Sign up here!

A plan to house illegal aliens at a Staten Island church is facing bipartisan pushback from local elected officials, SILive.com recently reported.On Monday, a group of Staten Island officials held a press conference outside the Faith United Methodist Church on Heberton Avenue in Port Richmond to protest a proposal to place 15 cots inside the house of worship to provide shelter accommodations to single adult men illegally residing in the United States. 'We should be talking about closing shelters, not opening up new ones.'According to Staten Island Borough President Vito Fossella, they were not told about the plan until last week. The church aims to open its doors to the illegal aliens on Tuesday.Councilwoman Kamillah Hanks (D-North Shore) claimed she first became aware of the proposal on Saturday when she received a text message from Mayor Eric Adams’ (D) administration. Hanks reported that the makeshift shelter will be managed by the New York Disaster Interfaith Services. The illegal aliens will receive meals, a bed, and access to a shower from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. every day.“We stand here today as elected officials on behalf of our constituency to vehemently oppose the opening of this migrant shelter,” Hanks stated during the press conference. “Residents of this district are tired. They’re tired of constantly waking up one day to find an institution they trusted has made the decision that they feel will have a negative impact on their community and their safety.”According to Hanks, six churches on Staten Island will be used to provide shelter to illegal immigrants. “This approach the administration is taking is changing the fabric of our communities, undermining the trust and stability that these houses of worship have historically provided,” Hanks remarked. “And while the people of Staten Island — including myself and the people that stand behind me — have boundless compassion and charity, our resources are not.”Fossella warned that the plan would “hurt ... this community and the people.”“Some people in this community wake up every day trying to figure out, ‘How do we make Portland Richmond better? How do we make the North Shore better?'” Fossella continued. “And then along comes the agencies, [which] say, ‘Guess what? Here’s a way we can make it better: We’re gonna’ dump a migrant shelter right in the middle of your neighborhood.'”“How is that any degree of common sense? It’s not ... we have to stand and fight back,” he added.Fossella noted that the decision to open the shelter space came “out of the blue” and in “the dark of night.”Councilman David Carr (R-Mid-Island) also joined the press conference. “I’m not just against migrant shelters in my backyard. I’m against migrant shelters in every one,” Carr said. “We should be talking about closing shelters, not opening up new ones like the one they intend to put behind us. These churches are thoroughly unsuitable for these kinds of facilities.”New York City is currently providing services to approximately 65,000 illegal immigrants. Like Blaze News? Bypass the censors, sign up for our newsletters, and get stories like this direct to your inbox. Sign up here!