Nation

Protests are sweeping France as anger over conditions in schools meets frustration with high living costs and a government accused of doing little to address problems facing people.

Former Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger, a Republican, celebrated the 20-year anniversary of landmark climate legislation he signed while in office alongside Democrats including Gov. Gavin Newsom on Wednesday.

“California is the perfect example of what can be done when people work together and when we don’t look at this as a Republican or as a Democratic issue,” Schwarzenegger said at an economic conference in Long Beach, noting that Assembly Bill 32, the Global Warming Solutions Act had significantly reduced greenhouse gas emissions while creating more than a half a million clean-energy jobs.

“This is the message that is so important for the world,” he said, because the state’s policies have become a model for other states and nations.

Newsom noted that the state had met “audacious” goals for reducing greenhouse gas emissions, touting 39,000 megawatts of clean energy that have been installed in the last seven years, 23,000 megawatts of battery storage created, and that no flex alert has been issued in the state in four years.

“So we’re not in the goal-setting business; we’re in the how business,” he said.

He added that the clean energy transition is “the most critical national security issue in the United States of America,” with economic and supply chain leadership at stake as China surpasses the U.S. in electric vehicles, clean-energy manufacturing and the deployment of renewables.

The state already met the climate change legislation’s ambitious target — returning emissions to 1990 levels by 2020 — four years ahead of schedule. However, recent analyses indicate California is not on track to meet its future targets of cutting emissions 40% by 2030 and 85% by 2045.

The legislation paved the way for the creation of California’s nation-leading carbon market, cap-and-invest, which launched in 2013. The Legislature extended cap-and-invest’s life to 2045 last year, and the state is now initiating the process of linking its market with Washington state.

The event as well as a luncheon the prior day in Santa Monica were rare displays of bipartisan unity at a time of heightened political polarization in the United States. Schwarzenegger and Newsom piled praise upon each other during the Wednesday afternoon discussion, hugging at the end.

At the luncheon, former Gov. Gray Davis, whom Schwarzenegger ousted from office in the 2003 recall election, as well as billionaire hedge-fund founder turned environmental warrior Tom Steyer, who unsuccessfully ran for governor this year, were among the Democrats in attendance, as well as former state Assembly Speaker Fabien Nunez and former state Sen. Fran Pavley, who were both pivotal in the passage of the climate-change legislation.

In addition to remarks highlighting the foundation of some of the nation’s bedrock environmental policies, such as former GOP President Richard Nixon creating the Environmental Protection Agency and signing the Endangered Species Act, there were moments of levity.

Schwarzenegger said he told fellow Republicans “f— you” when they balked at him naming Susan Kennedy, a Democrat, as his chief of staff, he said Tuesday.

During a breakout session at the Wednesday conference, he referenced his former wife, Maria Shriver, a scion of the Kennedy family, as he described his desire to hear from people on both sides of the aisle.

“So I had Democrats in my administration, and of course the Republican Party went nuts,” he said. “I didn’t care because, to me, I thought I wanted to hear what the Democrats were thinking. Plus, I was sleeping with one every night anyway.”

Nimesh Patel’s stock in comedy has been on an upswing lately. From sold-out shows to a skyrocketing social media following and the release of his first Netflix special, “Buy the Dip,” last month, it’s been amazing the difference a year makes. The new hour filmed in Washington, D.C., delivers surgically precise, dryly delivered jokes and personal stories about America falling apart from the heart of our nation’s capital.

Despite the dire circumstances, it’s in our country’s DNA to believe in the power of the rebound. So does Patel, who’s seen one play out with his own career after taking an unexpected hit. Last fall, the comedian faced public backlash for his decision to accept — and then reject — a spot on the controversial Riyadh Comedy Festival, for which he’d been offered $125,000 to perform along with major names like Dave Chappelle, Bill Burr, Sebastian Maniscalco, Whitney Cummings and many more. The rollout of a comedy festival in Saudi Arabia, a nation whose government has been accused of human rights abuses and, according to U.S. intelligence, the brutal murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi at its consulate in Turkey, lead to a war of words on the internet aimed at the comedians on the lineup. Hearing the scrutiny loud and clear and ultimately deciding the money wasn’t worth it, Patel decided to pull out and tell the world via Instagram that he wasn’t going, opting instead (and somewhat grudgingly) to make up for the lost bag with 40 extra shows added to his nationwide theater tour. The response to his video announcement drew even more ire from comedy fans. Looking back on it now, he admits his delivery at the time, looking tired and somewhat annoyed by his own decision, wasn’t the greatest.

“People read that as sarcasm and like woe is me,” Patel said in a recent conversation with The Times over Zoom. “I can see why they thought that I was a poor actor in the video that I posted. But everyone acts better than the person they see on the screen until it becomes their life and then they’re like, ‘Oh s—, yeah, I probably would have done the same thing.’ So, f— them!”

Despite the roasting he received, Patel stuck to his word and did the shows. Stepping on stage night after night to earn the money he had planned on making last year from one canceled gig in Saudi Arabia gave him the reps he says he needed to perfect the new hour of material. The title “Buy the Dip” is a nod to the remnants of his former career in finance — it’s stock market terminology about buying a failing asset with the hope that it will go up in value again. But it also describes the optimism from which he now makes his decisions as a parent and as someone who still believes that things can get better, even at their lowest.

“I have to be an optimist, I have to believe the world is getting better, because otherwise, what the f— did I do by having a kid?” he said.

In his Netflix debut special, “Buy the Dip,” comedian Nimesh Patel turns personal setbacks and a troubled America into sharply observed jokes grounded in unexpected optimism.

(Courtesy of Netflix)

His belief in positivity followed him to D.C. to record the special, the town where he says he got his first big breaks as a comedian opening for major acts like Maz Jobrani at the Warner Theatre, headlining the Bier Baron and the DC Improv and even the Kennedy Center — “or the now-defunct Trump whatever you’re supposed to call it,” he joked. When it comes to his comedy trajectory, taking the long view is essential to realizing that Patel’s path to this special started over a decade ago when Chris Rock discovered him while on stage in Brooklyn and helped him get writing gigs on “Saturday Night Live” and the 2016 Oscars ceremony, two opportunities that solidified his resolve to go into comedy full-time after he lost his job in finance.

As an Indian American comedian, he knows there is a spotlight of cultural representation on him, which he notes in the special and even makes fun of. That kind of attention isn’t on just him but also on Indian Americans in even higher-profile jobs, such as, say, the first Indian American director of the FBI, the chronically embattled Kash Patel.

“Let me be clear, it’s really difficult to both be proud of Kash and despise him at the same time,” Patel says. On the one hand, there’s the astonishing feat of going from being one of the few Indian kids in Virginia amid post-9/11 racism to becoming head of the nation’s domestic intelligence agency. On the other there’s a career riddled with gaffes and allegedly immoral conduct that makes him an easy punching bag for the writers at “SNL” with the help of his late-night TV doppelganger Aziz Ansari.

“For him to go from that to then be serving the country at this level, that is an incredible achievement, and it’s just so sad that that is who our representative is at the moment,” Patel said. “Just like when an Uber driver says to me, ‘Your last name is Patel? Like Kash?’ I’m like, ‘Yeah, just like that, but not like that at all, you know?’”

Patel revisits the backlash he faced after accepting, then withdrawing from, Saudi Arabia’s Riyadh Comedy Festival, and how dozens of extra tour dates helped shape his new material.

(Courtesy of Netflix)

While trying to distance himself from one person who shares his family name, when it comes to his actual family, Patel has plenty of jokes of being too close to them. Like many millennials, he’s squeezed tight between caring for aging parents and raising a child. At 40, he says in the special that people in his age bracket have become the “Sandwich Generation.” Though, to be fair to his toddler, keeping track of his parents is a much harder task at times.

“They won’t take help. They’re very independent, and I imagine I was the same way when I was growing up,” Patel said. “So it’s that in itself is just like the Progressive commercial that we’re all becoming our parents, but in real life and not driven by a corporate marketing team. It’s just funny to see that play out.”

Whether the obstacles he faces in life are laugh-out-loud funny or career hurdles that threaten to topple him into the abyss, the idea that he can always bounce back is the key to staying unfazed during the highs and the lows of life. And to the extent that anyone can take a lesson from Patel in the art of staying even-keeled, he hopes the special will make people feel a little less bad about the country being on the brink of destruction.

“Everyone knows that we’re not in a good spot right now,” he said. “The dip is here now. I fully believe that we can recover, I hope that we can. It’s going to be a lot of pain. I don’t know if we’re at the bottom just yet, but I’m optimistic, and I have to be. Otherwise, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Oct. 3, 2026 3:04 AM PT

Like any other building from 1971, or a democracy created in 1776, the Kennedy Center could use some attention and possibly some structural repair. But I was a vice president at that arts center in Washington, and I can tell you that maintenance is almost certainly not why it closed its doors last month.

Officially, it’s closed because a section of the Grand Foyer ceiling gave way in a storm, plaster crashing to the floor, and the building needed to be shut down for safety. The Justice Department itself has argued in court filings that there is no real emergency requiring the closure. The board, meanwhile, has approved a quarter-billion-dollar renovation plan, put together without competitive bidding, while the president muses openly about tearing the building down altogether if his own name isn’t affixed to it. This administration is effectively bulldozing arts infrastructure in an attempt to abolish an infrastructure of the imagination.

I watch all of this from the outside now. When the new “leadership” took over last year, my team and I were among the first let go. My department worked on free public programming, on creative equity, on cross-sector community development and on measuring the social impact of art. That we were among the first out the door probably tells you everything you need to know about who was put in charge of the place.

As an American, as an artist and as a former member of its labor force, I understand that the Kennedy Center is more than a building. It is a living memorial to a president who was taken from us too soon, a man who had the audacity to aim for the moon before the science existed to get us there. To honor that kind of visionary, this country built a center for the creative impossible, and gave it his name.

And true to that name, my job at the Kennedy Center was to investigate the correlation between the arts economy and the economy of civic aspiration. As a team, we believed that inspiration erodes apathy and yields empathy. The building is a container of federal infrastructure, but the arts that imbue the Kennedy Center make the argument that inspiration itself is part of the infrastructure of our democracy. An arts center is built to ask: “What are the conditions necessary to dream together in public?”

Who, if not artists, are the authors of the public imagination? When a baby is born, or your daughter gets married, do you read a piece of legislation to commemorate the occasion or do you quote a poem, or dedicate a song? Who, if not artists, might light the path to a post-fear economy?

So why invade an arts center? What could possibly be gained by shuttering a national citadel for creative excellence? How perverse that a president whose policies have underfunded education and the arts would gut a national sanctuary for curiosity, and then demand that his name be emblazoned on the shell of what was. This president has used executive orders to intimidate artists, banned writers and journalists, sabotaged arts education, created oppressive red lines within the National Endowment for the Arts and threatened philanthropic organizations that fund arts and culture, and then he turns around and wants his name on our national cultural center.

When I worked there, the Kennedy Center wasn’t perfect. No institution is. But the business was viable, the staff was talented and reliable, and the work we made together would, often enough, touch something close to the sublime. Our job, like those of so many arts workers across the country, was to activate creative magic in service of social cohesion and well-being.

This is what gets lost in the noise of storms and lawsuits and renovation budgets: Entertainment is everywhere, but inspiration is rare. Sometimes you are sitting in a dark theater with strangers and the right note gets struck, and you hear it with your ears but you feel it somewhere else entirely. In the gut and heart. And the person next to you, a stranger, feels it too, at the exact same moment. You can practically feel the room change. All that magic can happen in one theater, and the Kennedy Center has nine of them. If a solar panel uses the energy of the sun to power a building, an intentionally run theater can use the energy of its inspired audiences to power a city.

Art holds memory. It also holds the horizon, the sense of what a country could still become. Patriotism as enacted by the creative community takes the American experiment seriously enough to question, examine, remember what we’ve forgotten and catalyze collective American dreaming. That is what the Kennedy Center was named for: a president who dreamed of a country unafraid of beauty, unafraid of grace.

Thankfully, America’s creative labor force tirelessly stewards that sense of creative provocation and patriotic inquiry. It is alive everywhere, including in the work of individual artists such as Carrie Mae Weems or in the work of collectives such as For Freedoms and their “America, the Beautiful” initiative.

We, the chronically underwhelmed citizenry of the United States, can’t afford one less pillar of creativity. We should be fighting to reconstitute any and all artistic institutions with an eye toward an inspired future.

Marc Bamuthi Joseph, a spoken-word artist and actor, was vice president for social impact at the Kennedy Center.

The California I grew up in had its pluses and minuses, just like the state I’m living in now.

But consider this:

In 1974, I wrote a check for a semester of college.

The fee was $98.

That was the cost of registration, by the way. Tuition for in-state residents was free at San José State University and other public universities in California. The state’s leaders believed subsidized higher education would serve the greater good and seed economic growth.

Two years after graduating, I was working as a sportswriter for a small Bay Area newspaper. My spouse was a drug store clerk. Together we made less than $20,000 a year.

And we bought a brand-new house, 45 minutes east of Oakland, for just under $50,000.

In a thousand ways, we’re living in a different California today. Tuition and fees for a semester on a Cal State campus now run about $4,500, and the average mid-tier home costs about $775,000 in some places and far more in others, which is out of reach for nearly 80% of working people.

So as I watched the gubernatorial debate Wednesday night between the two men who want to lead us into the future, I was wondering which California is better in terms of hope, opportunity and livability?

The one I was born in during the postwar boom, or the one we’re living in now?

There’s no easy answer. The California of my youth was more affordable, but it was no utopian dreamscape. Housing discrimination and segregation were deep-seated, and the Los Angeles sky was the color of swamp water.

In the last half of the 20th century, California went on to become a global leader in technology, aerospace, the arts and healthcare, and its investment in public education helped build an economic superpower. Even the air got cleaned up, to a degree.

But for all of California’s riches and unrivaled natural beauty, it’s fair to say things are out of whack at the moment. How is it that the world’s fourth-largest economy also has the nation’s highest poverty rate?

There’s a flotilla of yachts, but millions of have-nots, and enough homeless people to fill stadiums. If we’re so progressive, and swimming in more venture capital than the rest of the nation combined, why are the masses crippled by a housing shortage and the high cost of living, and why did we build a soaring higher education model while letting our once exalted K-12 system sink in national rankings?

If California weren’t so lopsidedly blue, Republican candidate Steve Hilton might get a little more traction with a campaign built around the idea that there’s an easy explanation for the state’s misery of problems: Democrats have been in charge for years, they’ve mucked things up, and Xavier Becerra is yet another textbook California liberal who will stay the course.

“It’s impossible for regular working people to live in this state anymore,” Hilton charged during the debate, calling out over-regulation, the high cost of living, the housing shortage and a homelessness problem that “shames” our state. “And all you’re offering,” Hilton continued, “is more of the same, backed by the same corrupt machine in Sacramento.”

Becerra, meanwhile, kept handcuffing Hilton to President Trump, a good move, given that the president has helped launch an idiotic war, gummed up the economy, and seen his favorability plummet.

Hilton is not entirely off base, although there’s no evidence he has plausible solutions.

What he doesn’t tell you is that other states have their own problems, many of which have more to do with global economic forces — and President Trump’s war-mongering and tariff tirades — than with public policy decisions at the state level.

When I was a lad, my father drove a milk truck, and then a bread truck, and then he sold candy and tobacco for a wholesale distributor based in Oakland, near the Coliseum, where he’d take me to A’s games but save a few bucks by parking next to the railroad tracks a half-mile away from the parking lot.

His jobs were mostly unionized. Unions were plentiful in the private sector back then. My family saved up for a house while we lived in an apartment, and then I paid next to nothing for a college degree.

The boldness of that idea — a free education at an elite university, with a lofty if unfulfilled goal of equal access for all — is still a testament to California’s long-ago grand ambition, even if Gov. Ronald Reagan eventually ended free tuition.

In her new book, “California Dreams: The Making and Remaking of the University of California,” Miriam Pawel references a quote from UC Berkeley alum Joan Didion, who called the system “the most coherent expression of the California possibility.”

The staircase I climbed was the essence of what USC professor Natalia Molina called “the infrastructure” of upward mobility. In her immigrant family, her grandmother established an Echo Park restaurant that Molina wrote a book about — “A Place at the Nayarit” — and her mother ran the bar there after attending bartending school.

Molina went to UCLA, and is now both a MacArthur Foundation fellow (the “genius” grant) and a Guggenheim fellow.

“There’s not that same path for upward mobility,” Molina said. “But there sure seems to be a path for downward mobility.”

That brings me back to the economy, and lessons I learned in 2018, when I spent several weeks in and around Telfair Elementary School in Pacoima, looking into why nearly a quarter of the students were homeless.

The answer? Several once-bustling manufacturing and aerospace companies in the area had shut down. The new economy was fast food and big box stores. Pay dropped; housing prices spiked. It was a snapshot of a changing world — one we haven’t yet adapted to.

Modern politics is not built to foster long-term thinking about such challenges, said longtime political strategist Darry Sragow.

“What are the dreams, what are the aspirations, where do you want to go?” said Sragow, who doesn’t know the answers but would like to at least hear the questions. “I keep looking for somebody who will do that.”

Agoura Hills resident and attorney Dan Douglass, 80, who detests President Trump and isn’t a fan of Hilton, told me that as a moderate Republican, he feels like “a man without a party.” But he is not without an answer to California’s housing problem.

“They’ve made it too complicated to build anything,” Douglass said. “Too many permits. Too much time to build.”

He is not wrong.

Samuel Trachtman, a political scientist with the UC Berkeley Economy and Society Initiative, argues that despite recent legislative progress on the housing crisis, state policies are restricting growth and making California more unaffordable.

“California must reduce regulatory costs that fall disproportionately on low- and middle-income residents,” Trachtman wrote in a recent four-part analysis.

“The state has “long led the nation in regulations promoting safety, sustainability, and quality,” he went on. “These policies can produce strong benefits. But they can also drive up the cost of essentials — costs that hit the poor hardest. This amounts to regressively funded progressivism.”

California was, and is, a work in progress, richly endowed and deeply flawed. Fixing complicated problems isn’t easy, but what I’d like to see from the next governor is more of the striving, imagination and sense of collective purpose that made California great.

There’s no way and no reason to go back to the state of my youth, but Trachtman had a thought about where to go next.

“In some ways we can use the past as a model,” he told me. “But in other ways we need to be more innovative and think about charting a path forward.”

Toward the most coherent expression of the California possibility.

steve.lopez@latimes.com

Sept. 24, 2026 9:29 PM PT

PITTSBURGH — James Copenhaver, one of three campaign rally attendees shot in 2024 during an assassination attempt on then-candidate Donald Trump, has died in Pittsburgh, his lawyer said Thursday. He was 76.

Copenhaver was in the bleachers during the event in Butler, Pa., when a 20-year-old gunman opened fire from a nearby rooftop, grazing Trump’s right ear with one bullet. Copenhaver was struck in the arm and in the abdomen, wounds that left him with lingering injuries and walking with a cane.

Two other attendees were also shot: David Dutch, who survived, and Corey Comperatore, who shielded his family from gunfire and was killed.

Copenhaver died Wednesday at Allegheny Health Network’s West Penn Hospital in Pittsburgh, according to a statement from the Allegheny County medical examiner cited in local media accounts.

Copenhaver’s lawyer, Joseph Feldman, said in a statement issued on behalf of the family that he died surrounded by loved ones. The statement did not specify whether his death was directly related to the injuries he suffered at the rally.

Copenhaver and his wife, Marianne Copenhaver, sued the federal government in June, alleging that the Secret Service and Department of Homeland Security had “utterly failed” to provide appropriate security at the rally. Copenhaver’s injuries required multiple surgeries, including a transection of his colon, and he had lingering kidney and other damage, including a loss of feeling in his leg. The lawsuit described the wounds as “debilitating, grievous, permanent and life altering.”

The family’s statement Thursday called Copenhaver above all else a devoted husband, father and grandfather who instilled the values of hard work, integrity and the service to others in his children.

“James’s dedication to this great country was a defining part of his life,” it said. “As a veteran, he proudly served our nation in the armed forces, and his love of country never wavered. James was a true American patriot who believed deeply in the freedoms and ideals upon which this nation was founded, and he embodied the very best traits of our great nation.”

In a statement posted to social media, President Trump on Thursday called Copenhaver “a true American Patriot.”

“Jim showed tremendous bravery, courageously continuing to FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT, and maintaining a positive spirit despite unimaginable hardships,” Trump wrote.

Johnson and Smyth write for the Associated Press.

WASHINGTON — FBI Director Kash Patel on Tuesday defended the bureau’s loosening of hiring standards regarding an applicant’s past experience with prostitution and bestiality, insisting that the changes were meant to enable victims of those acts to be considered for employment without fear of automatic disqualification.

The subject arose during a contentious Senate Judiciary Committee hearing in which Patel clashed with Democrats over his firing of agents who participated in investigations of President Trump, a spate of media leak probes, and whether employees would be dispatched to the polls on Election Day in light of the bureau’s ongoing election-related investigations and Trump’s repeated and false claims about the existence of pervasive voter fraud.

The hearing featured the name-calling and bitingly personal exchanges that have come to define Patel’s appearances on Capitol Hill, with Democrats characterizing the Trump appointee as unqualified, criticizing him for politically charged investigations into Trump’s enemies and highlighting travel that has included a trip to the Winter Olympics in Italy during which he partied with U.S. hockey players and a snorkeling excursion at the Pearl Harbor memorial in Hawaii.

“He’s an incompetent lackey. He’s like an 18-year old-kid who wants to join a fraternity that he could never be a member of, doing keg stands and chugging with friends. He’s an embarrassment to the agency and wouldn’t qualify even to be an FBI agent,” said an exasperated Sen. Cory Booker (D-N.J.), his voice rising in anger.

Given a chance to respond, Patel replied: “I don’t have much to say. This guy called me a thug. It’s kind of ironic. He’s running for president of the United States. He just got his 20-second ad campaign.”

Booker ran for president in 2020. He has not announced a candidacy for 2028.

Patel was pressed on the FBI’s hiring standards

The FBI quietly issued guidance this spring lifting a categorical hiring ban on applicants who had previously engaged in prostitution. The bureau made a similar change with regard to past experience in bestiality as a child.

Under questioning, Patel denied that the changes reflected a lowering of employment standards and insisted they were designed to prevent victims who’d been forced to engage in that conduct from being automatically disqualified.

“We did not want to punish victims of bestiality, victims who were trafficked. We did not want to make it an automatic disqualification for the FBI to consider you if were a victim of these awful, heinous acts,” Patel said. “We are not going to target victims and prevent them from serving in their capacity to serve this country.”

The questioning spanned partisan lines, with Sen. John Kennedy (R-La.) grilling Patel about the rationale for a change that the FBI director said was proposed to him by subordinates.

“When you saw bestiality, I say this with respect: The person who recommended it, why didn’t you just say, ‘What planet did you parachute in from?’” Kennedy asked. Patel conceded that that was his initial reaction.

The Associated Press reported last month that the FBI still intends to disqualify some applicants who are revealed to have previously engaged in prostitution, including if they’ve done so within the last 10 years.

Patel faced questions about the FBI’s role on Election Day

The hearing unfolded two months before the midterm elections in November and at a time when the FBI has opened investigations related to the 2020 contest, including by seizing voter data in Fulton County, Ga.

Trump regularly makes false claims that elections are rigged and riddled with fraud, especially in the months before an election. But there is no widespread fraud in American elections. Local election officials have detailed processes for auditing the accuracy of the vote after ballots are tallied. Even as he disputed his loss in 2020, audits, reviews and recounts in the battleground states where he challenged the outcome all affirmed President Biden’s win.

Democrats repeatedly pressed Patel on whether the FBI would be dispatching agents to polls. The director said the FBI has an election coordinator in each of its 56 field offices to respond to issues at polling places, including alleged election interference. He did not rule out the idea that agents could be dispatched to the polls if problems arose.

“Do you pledge that you will not in any way interfere in the will of the America people when they go to the polls in November?” asked Sen. Peter Welch (D-Vt.) in one of the more combative exchanges.

“I pledge unequivocally that I will not participate in your charade of lies,” Patel said, later calling Welch a “total fraud.”

FBI firings were also a featured topic of the hearing

Patel repeatedly touted what he asserted was his record-breaking success at the FBI, proclaiming the “most prolific reduction in crime in U.S. history” even though murder rates in American cities had begun dropping even before Trump took office last year.

The Republican-led panel tried through its questioning to keep the focus on Patel’s crime-fighting efforts from his perch at the nation’s premier federal law enforcement agency. But Democrats seized on the tumult inside the FBI over the last year, including sweeping firings of agents who participated in investigations of Trump, the bureau’s aggressive efforts to investigate media leaks by serving subpoenas at reporters’ home and Patel’s travel schedule that has blended private leisure with professional responsibilities.

Sen. Richard Blumenthal (D-Conn.) pressed Patel on the firing of national security agents with expertise in Iran shortly before the U.S. launched attacks on the country last February. He noted that the agents had participated in an FBI investigation into Trump over his retention of classified documents at his Mar-a-Lago estate in Florida.

“Do you think firing the president’s political opponents is more important than retaining the decades of experience and expertise monitoring intelligence threats from Iran?” Blumenthal asked.

“I think what’s most important is to not have a weaponized FBI, and I will endeavor every single day to make sure we have no one there that is doing that,” Patel responded. He did not say why their participation in the Mar-a-Lago investigation represented “weaponized” law enforcement.

Patel later suggested that the firings had been overblown, saying many agents had retired on their own. And he defended his personal travels by pointing to numbers that he said showed that two recent predecessors, Chris Wray and James Comey, had traveled more.

Tucker writes for the Associated Press.

The LA Times/SurveyMonkey poll set out to measure feelings about football and Super Bowl, both in the U.S. as a whole and in the Los Angeles region.

Each day, a huge range of organizations — schools, churches, bowling leagues, companies and more — use SurveyMonkey’s online platform to poll their members, customers or associates.

In total, more than 2 million people take SurveyMonkey polls on an average day, giving the company access to a broad cross-section of the American public.

To conduct surveys on questions of broad public interest, like this one, SurveyMonkey randomly selects some of those people and asks them if they’d be willing to take an additional online poll. Those who say yes get a survey to fill out.

As with traditional telephone surveys, the results then are weighted to match standard Census Bureau measures of the nation’s population — to make sure that the sample mirrors the nation’s distribution of age, race, gender, geography and education levels.

The result is a representative sample of the adult population.

In this case, the poll, which was developed jointly by SurveyMonkey and The Times, was conducted in English and Spanish from Feb. 1-7 among a national sample of 7,590 adults. The sample included 1,659 Californians and 743 people who live in Greater Los Angeles, which encompasses Los Angeles, Orange, Ventura, San Bernardino and Riverside counties.

As with all polls, the results are subject to sampling error. For this survey, the modeled error estimates are 2 percentage points in either direction for the national sample, 3.5 percentage points for the statewide California sample and 5 percentage points for the Los Angeles metro area.