many other

Future Ruins, the hotly-anticipated Nov. 8 film-music festival from Nine Inch Nails’ Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, has been canceled.

“Unfortunately Future Ruins will not move forward this year,” organizers said in a statement. “The reality is, due to a number of logistical challenges and complications, we feel we cannot provide the experience that’s defined what this event was always intended to be. Rather than compromise, we’re choosing to re-think and re-evaluate. Meanwhile, we are sorry for any inconvenience and appreciate all the interest and support.”

The Live Nation-produced event at the Los Angeles Equestrian Center was booked as a compendium of cutting-edge composers to showcase their film work in an unorthodox live setting. Headlined by the Nine Inch Nails bandmates, who have won Oscars for their film scores including “The Social Network” and “Soul,” the event was slated to host John Carpenter, Questlove, Danny Elfman, Mark Mothersbaugh and Hildur Guðnadóttir among many others.

The fest’s cancellation comes on the heels of Nine Inch Nails’ sold-out “Peel It Back” tour, which hit the Form last month and is scheduled to return to Southern California in March next year. The band will also play a club-heavy version of its live set as Nine Inch Noize (with collaborator Boys Noize) at Coachella next year.

LINCOLN, Neb. — Rep. Mike Flood has gotten an earful during a public meeting in Lincoln aimed at discussing his support for the massive tax breaks and spending cuts bill that passed Congress and was signed into law by President Trump.

Flood, a second-term Republican who represents the GOP-leaning district that includes the University of Nebraska, on Monday braved the ire of a college town audience dominated by hundreds of people intent on expressing their displeasure chiefly with cuts to Medicaid benefits and tax reductions tilted toward the wealthy.

He described the law as less than perfect but stood firm on its Medicaid and tax provisions, fueling a 90-minute barrage of jeers and chants in a scenario House Republican leaders have specifically advised GOP members to avoid.

“More than anything I truly believe this bill protects Medicaid for the future,” Flood said, setting off a shower of boos from the audience of roughly 700 in the University of Nebraska’s Kimball Recital Hall. “We protected Medicaid.”

How voters receive the law, passed with no Democratic support in the narrowly GOP-controlled House and Senate, could go a long way to determine whether Republicans keep power in next year’s midterm elections.

Flood was resolute on his position but engaged with the audience at times. During his repeated discussions of Medicaid, he asked if people in the audience thought able-bodied Americans should be required to work. When many shouted their opposition, he replied, “I don’t think a majority of Nebraskans agree with that.”

Dozens formed a line to the microphone to speak to Flood, most asking pointed questions about the law, but many others questioning moves by the Trump administration on immigration enforcement, education spending and layoffs within the federal bureaucracy.

Some came prepared to confront him.

“You said in Seward you were not a fascist,” one man stood in line to say. “Your complicity suggests otherwise.”

Flood shot back, “Fascists don’t hold town halls with open question-and-answer sessions.”

Asked if he would block the release of files related to the sex trafficking case involving the late Jeffrey Epstein, Flood said he supports their release as a co-sponsor of a nonbinding resolution calling for their publication. Flood also said he supports requiring a deposition from Epstein’s convicted co-conspirator, Ghislaine Maxwell, who argues she was wrongfully prosecuted.

Flood’s audience was gathering more than an hour before the doors opened. And as people lined up in the warm August air, he sauntered by, introducing himself, shaking hands and thanking people, including retired Lincoln teacher and school administrator Mary Ells, for attending.

“I believe Congressman Flood listened in a socially appropriate way,” Ells said after expressing concerns to Flood about her grandchildren’s future. “I do not believe he listens in a responsive, action-oriented way for citizens in Nebraska that do not agree with the national playbook written elsewhere but being implemented here.”

Inside the hall, much of that decorum vanished.

During Flood’s discussion of his support of the law’s tax provisions, which he argued would benefit the middle class, the audience exploded in a deafening chant of “Tax the rich.”

Other refrains included “Vote him out!” and “Free Palestine!”

Hecklers often drowned out Flood, creating a rolling cacophony with only occasional pauses.

Republican lawmakers’ town halls have been few and far between since the bill passed early last month, in part because their leaders have advised them against it. Trump and others say the law will give the economy a jolt, but Democrats feel they’ve connected with criticism of many of its provisions, especially its cuts to Medicaid and tax cuts tilted toward the wealthy.

Flood later downplayed the confrontation as “spirited” but “part of the process” during an impromptu press conference.

“It doesn’t mean you can make everybody happy,” he said. “But, you know, if you feel strongly about what you’re doing in Congress, stand in the town square, tell them why you voted that way, listen to their questions, treat them with respect and invite them to continue to communicate.”

Unlike dozens of other Republicans in competitive districts, Flood hardly has to worry, as Republicans brace for a challenge to their razor-thin majority in the House next year. Elected in 2022, Flood was reelected to the seat last year by winning 60% of the vote in a district that includes Lincoln in Democratic-leaning Lancaster County but also vast Republican-heavy rural tracts in 11 counties that ring the Omaha metropolitan area.

Beaumont writes for the Associated Press.

Every recreational golfer of my generation has at least two things in common: We grew up revering Tiger Woods, and we know “Happy Gilmore,” the 1996 Adam Sandler golf comedy, like the back of our hands. Which millennial, while lining up a putt on the green, hasn’t told himself at some point to just “tap it in — give it a little tappy, a tap tap taparoo”? Who among us, before hitting a challenging tee shot, hasn’t at some point first closed his eyes and attempted to escape to his very own “happy place”? And above all, which of us hasn’t spent hours upon hours at the local driving range trying to master the craft that is protagonist Happy Gilmore’s signature running golf swing?

For all of us picking up the game once described by sports journalist John Feinstein as “a good walk spoiled,” Sandler’s character was a never-ending font of laughs and inspiration. Like so many others of my generation, then, I was very excited to watch “Happy Gilmore 2,” just released on Netflix on July 25. The sequel, 29 years in the making, didn’t have a script as instantly quotable as the original, nor was it as memorable. (Which film sequel, besides “The Godfather Part II” or “The Empire Strikes Back,” ever has been?) But “Happy Gilmore 2” still surpassed expectations: It was at times a bit silly, but it was still rollicking fun, replete with nostalgic flashbacks and a bevy of pro golfer cameos.

But it’s also more than that. It would be a mistake to dismiss the two movies as purely frivolous fare — good just for a few laughs. Rather, Sandler, long known for leading a private, low-key lifestyle that eschews the Hollywood limelight, has a specific message for Happy’s myriad fans: Family always comes first.

In the original film, Happy, a hockey fanatic whose weak skating skills inhibited his pro hockey aspirations, reluctantly takes up golf for one reason: to earn enough money to save his beloved grandmother’s home from a bank foreclosure and return her there from a hostile nursing home. Throughout the film, Happy emphasizes this as his sole motivation for biting his lips and suffering through what he calls “golf sissy crap.” Happy doesn’t particularly care about the game of golf. He’s just doing it for Grandma.

In the sequel, Happy, now considerably older and a father of five, has retired from golf and developed a bad drinking habit. A single father, he is struggling to make ends meet and provide for his daughter Vienna. Early in the film, Vienna’s dance instructor recommends that Happy enroll her in an advanced four-year ballet school in Paris, which would cost $75,000 annually. Happy senses that Vienna’s dream to dance ballet is similar to his old dream of playing hockey. With the encouragement of John Daly (one of many real-life pro golfers cast as themselves), he dusts off his old golf clubs and gives it a go again. Spoiler alert, without giving away too many of the specifics: The film has a happy ending for Happy’s family.

Clearly, this is not just about golf and laughs.

Sandler, a onetime registered and politically active Republican, is conveying to his audience a traditional conservative message: A life well lived is not a solipsistic one that exalts the self, but an altruistic one that places the interests of others above all else. These “others” are usually those closest to us — family members, older and younger generations alike, to whom we have obligations. You might notice that in both films, Happy plays golf only for others — not for himself.

Happy, who once fought to save the house his grandfather built, now finds himself trying to do right by the next generation. It is these relationships — with those who came before us and those who come after us — that give our lives meaning and purpose. And in “Happy Gilmore 2,” Sandler drives home that message in the most personal way possible: He casts his real-life wife and his two daughters — one as the aspiring ballerina.

The foul-mouthed, trash-talking rebel of golf, Happy Gilmore, is onto something important. Perhaps more of Sandler’s Hollywood colleagues ought to listen. They might learn something.

Josh Hammer’s latest book is “Israel and Civilization: The Fate of the Jewish Nation and the Destiny of the West.” This article was produced in collaboration with Creators Syndicate. @josh_hammer

Children’s Hospital Los Angeles is the preeminent center for pediatric medicine in Southern California. For three decades, it’s also been one of the world’s leading destinations for trans care for minors. Don’t take my word for it: CHLA boasts about its record of providing “high-quality, evidence-based, medically essential care for transgender and gender-diverse youth, young adults, and their families.”

Earlier this month, it abruptly ended all that, telling its staff in a meeting that the Center for Transyouth Health and Development would be shutting down. (My daughter was, until this announcement, a patient at the center.)

Did some new medical breakthrough, some unexpected research drive the decision to cut off care for roughly 2,500 patients with no warning? No. It came, the hospital said, after “a thorough legal and financial assessment of the increasingly severe impacts of recent administrative actions and proposed policies.”

In other words, the hospital caved. In advance.

CHLA made the move a week before the Supreme Court’s 6-3 decision in the United States vs. Skrmetti, which upheld a Tennessee law that bans most gender-affirming care for minors. More than 20 states have passed similar laws that prevent trans minors from accessing many different forms of medical care. The decision essentially shields those laws from future legal challenges.

But the Supreme Court ruling had nothing to do with CHLA’s decision. There is no such law in California.

Why, then, without any court order or law, did the center suddenly close, leaving so many young patients in need of doctors, medications and procedures? You can probably guess the answer.

Pressure from the Trump administration threatened the hospital with severe repercussions if it continued to serve these patients. One form of pressure arrived in a May 28 letter from the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, signed by its administrator, the former TV host Dr. Mehmet Oz. He announced that his agency would seek financial records on a range of gender-affirming care procedures from several dozen hospitals.

Being faced with the choice of discontinuing care for an entire class of patients or battling the administration over access to financial records is not a dilemma any doctor wants to face. To be clear, this is not a debate over medical science or proper care for trans youth. CHLA followed the science — until it didn’t. This is a debate over ideology about who is deserving of medical care.

In the past few months, we have seen powerful law firms, large corporations and universities forced to contend with difficult bargains. Settle with an administration that has singled you out? Or take the battle to court?

In February, when Children’s Hospital announced that it would stop taking on new patients in its Transyouth Center, California Atty. Gen. Rob Bonta sternly reminded them that they had a legal obligation to continue to provide this care. The hospital quickly reversed course.

That’s why the recent choice of the CHLA board marks a huge shift that could potentially affect care for not just trans youth patients but so many others as well.

Because what the board of CHLA did was, in fact, a choice. Moreover, CHLA’s choice went against its own medical advice about the urgent need for such care. On its website, the hospital claims it was “immensely proud of this legacy of caring for young people on the path to achieving their authentic selves.”

When confronted with threats, the board chose to sacrifice the care of one group of patients in the hope that it could continue to care for others. Perhaps the board concluded that it was following a crude, utilitarian logic: denying the medical needs of some would allow it to provide for many more.

That’s not how I see it. In caving to blackmail, they have endorsed the administration’s bigotry. They have demonstrated that trans youth are expendable. The board has made it clear that this group of patients is not as deserving of care as others. When CHLA faced actual pressure, its own record of providing “high-quality, evidence-based, medically essential care” simply became too inconvenient.

This time, it was trans youth. Who will it be next time? Disabled children? Children born outside the U.S.? CHLA agreed to play the game rather than call it out for what it is.

As a journalist, I occasionally grant anonymity to a source. It’s not an action I take lightly. The decision means that if pressured, even when threatened with contempt of court, I will not reveal their identity. Thankfully, it’s never come to that for me, although other journalists have gone to jail to protect sources. If I were to break that pledge once, I could never in good conscience grant it again.

I now wonder how doctors at CHLA can ever look their young patients in the eye again and promise that, no matter what, they will fight for their care.

Gabriel Kahn is a professor of professional practice at the USC Annenberg School for Communication and Journalism.