people

Mark Walter is looking to sell the WNBA’s Sparks, taking another step in the dismantling of his sports-team empire, according to people familiar with the matter.

Walter, a co-founder of money management firm Guggenheim Partners, sold the Lakers earlier this year at a $12.5 billion valuation to Joshua Kushner and Bob Iger, but the WNBA team had remained under his ownership. Kushner and Iger later discussed acquiring the Sparks, but they are not among potential buyers, said the people, who asked to not be identified because the talks are private.

Sportico values the team at $400 million. Walter is looking to sell the franchise and a related practice facility for more than $700 million, said one of the people, who wasn’t authorized to speak discussing private dealings. The practice facility, which was constructed for $150 million, is scheduled to open before the start of the 2027 season. The franchise plays in the Crypto.com Arena.

Such a deal would be by far the largest WNBA franchise sale in history. The current record of $300 million is held by Tilman Fertitta, the owner of the Houston Rockets who bought the Connecticut Sun and is in the midst of moving the franchise to Houston.

A spokesperson for Iger and Kushner declined to comment. A spokesperson for TWG Global, Walter’s holding company, didn’t immediately respond to a request for comment.

Federal prosecutors have been probing dealings at Walter’s insurance firms, prompting him to reshape his holdings and stirring up deal talks on multiple fronts, including his sports franchises. After selling the Lakers, he sold his stake in Chelsea FC to Clearlake Capital. Walter’s other sports holdings include the Dodgers, the Cadillac Formula One team and the Professional Women’s Hockey League.

Dodgers President Stan Kasten told The Times in August that the team isn’t for sale. “There’s no process that has been started to sell it, period,” he said.

The Sparks finished 16-28 during the WNBA season and have missed the playoffs for six straight seasons. The Sparks were one of the original eight teams when the WNBA was founded in 1997.

Williams, Natarajan and Shaw write for Bloomberg.

WASHINGTON — President Trump has alleged that elections, public benefit programs and federal grants to nonprofits are rife with fraud. Now, he is increasingly focusing on fraud in his effort to detain and deport more immigrants.

Recent, high-profile flash points include 28 lawful permanent residents accused this week of illegally voting in California and the federal investigation into Somali-born Rep. Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.).

The broader crusade takes many forms, including allegations of fraud in immigration applications, illegal voting by noncitizens and misuse of federal benefits by immigrants who don’t qualify.

“This administration has purposefully mischaracterized immigrants and asylum seekers as fraudsters,” said Royce Murray, a former senior official at the Department of Homeland Security under the Biden administration. That, she said, “serves a narrative that immigrants are not to be trusted and are here to take something rather than contribute, with an end goal of trying to make Americans less welcoming and more comfortable with a mass deportation agenda.”

On Tuesday, Trump and Vice President JD Vance announced a $25-million program under the Justice Department to encourage the public to report suspected fraud in the U.S. government.

The White House said the first check, for $10,000, will go to right-wing influencer Nick Shirley, who posted a video last year alleging that Somali residents in Minnesota were running fake child-care centers to collect federal subsidies. Dozens of people were convicted in connection with a sprawling, $250-million children’s food assistance scheme that predated this administration, though more charges have been announced in recent months.

Also Tuesday, administration officials launched another nationwide anti-fraud crackdown, this time targeting immigrants who they allege have illegally collected SNAP benefits. Homeland Security highlighted the arrests of five people, calling them “the opening salvo in a sustained, large-scale ICE operation.”

“From day one of my administration, we’ve waged an unprecedented war on corruption and fraud, and will not let our country be looted and plundered by thieves and pirates and foreign fraudsters and basically scum,” Trump said during a news conference announcing the Fraud Whistleblower Incentive Program.

Earlier this year, the White House created a task force to eliminate fraud and the Department of Justice created a fraud enforcement division, in part, to target immigration-related offenses. Prosecutors have put aside thousands of other cases to zero in on immigration enforcement.

The focus on fraud has noticeably accelerated in the weeks leading up to the election.

In California, some of the green card holders arrested this week over voter fraud said they didn’t remember registering to vote. The daughter of one defendant, Omar Muñoz, 72, of Belize, said she wondered whether her father had been confused with his U.S.-born son of the same name, who is a registered voter.

California officials pounced on the small number of people alleged to have cast illegal ballots. Illegal voting by immigrants “is so rare that the Trump admin is parading around town about .0001% of California voters,” Gov. Gavin Newsom’s office wrote on X.

In the last seven weeks alone, the State Department said, 112 noncitizens across 20 states have been charged with illegal voting and registration offenses. Overall, since Trump returned to the White House, 155 people have been charged with voting fraud-related offenses.

Mullin and Atty. Gen. Todd Blanche said earlier this month that Homeland Security agents had secured 10 convictions and detained 100 others for civil immigration violations since August.

During the Biden administration, voter fraud charges were brought in just 13 cases, Blanche added.

Studies and audits of state voter rolls have repeatedly found that voting by noncitizens is rare and hasn’t swayed any elections.

Ballot machines at the Los Angeles County Registrar-Recorder in Norwalk this week. Early voting has started for the 2026 midterm election.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

Last week, with mail-in voting already underway, the Justice Department sued California, asking a federal court to bar the state from counting the ballots of 20,000 voters who were flagged by federal officials as “likely noncitizens.” Los Angeles County officials reviewed a sample of 200 of those voter registrations and found that nearly 40% indicated they were born in the U.S.

That number of flagged ballots — 20,000 — is a substantial reduction from the 190,000 noncitizens the administration alleged were on state voter rolls earlier this year, though federal authorities this week said they had found a “separate batch of 17,000 voting records potentially tied to noncitizens.”

California leaders pointed to other states, such as Nevada, where similar accusations have proved meritless.

Murray, the former Homeland Security official, said she believes the administration is “trying to sow the seeds of doubt that the midterm outcomes will be trustworthy, so that if the Republican Party loses as badly as they’re predicted to, they can characterize it as due to fraud.”

Murray said the Trump administration has largely misconstrued what it means to commit fraud.

“Fraud is a very specific thing — it’s essentially lying,” she said. “Because you don’t get asylum does not mean you committed fraud, it just means you were ineligible.”

In September, a Homeland Security whistleblower told Sen. Alex Padilla (D-Calif.) that hundreds of U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services employees had been tasked with quickly reviewing the voter information of thousands of people in search of suspected noncitizen voters, and were given a quota of investigating 40 subjects per day.

On Wednesday, a federal judge restricted Homeland Security agents from carrying out sweeping field operations aimed at rooting out voter fraud in nine states, including California.

It is against federal law for immigrants who are not naturalized citizens to vote or register to do so. Penalties can include fines, jail time and even deportation, though authorities rarely pursued that option.

Eric Balliet, a former special agent with Homeland Security Investigations, the criminal investigative arm of ICE, said he takes no issue with investigating fraud, but the timing of this operation and significant resources dedicated show it is “highly politically charged.”

Balliet worked for various administrations, including Trump’s first, before retiring in 2024. Homeland Security Investigations agents typically focused on transnational criminal investigations such as drug smuggling and human trafficking.

Instead of initiating investigations based on tips or specific information, agents are now taking aggregated data and using algorithms to produce suspect lists, Balliet said. That’s not how law enforcement should operate, he said, calling it a massive privacy overreach against millions of law-abiding citizens.

“It’s the epitome of Big Brother,” he said.

Beyond the allegations of voter fraud, the Trump administration has also increasingly targeted immigrants on suspicion of lying to obtain a visa, green card or citizenship.

Omar’s family fled civil war in Somalia and immigrated to the U.S. in 1995 when she was 12. After agents searched her residence this month looking for evidence that her immigration paperwork contained falsehoods, she called the allegations baseless.

Last month, Homeland Security Secretary Markwayne Muillin suggested the outcome of the investigation could be deportation. Years ago, the agency declined to move forward with a probe based on similar allegations against Omar, according to the Washington Post.

The congresswoman is not alone.

Emiliano Andrade-Covarrubias, 56, who died of unknown causes last week at an ICE facility in Texas, was arrested because the agency alleged he had fraudulently obtained his green card. ICE sought to deport him, saying he had failed to disclose a 2004 arrest for theft, but his daughter told the Texas Tribune that he did bring up his criminal record during the application process for his permanent residency.

Immigration lawyers say their clients are facing more intense scrutiny and that some have battled false accusations of fraud after applying for a green card or citizenship.

U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services spokesperson Zach Kahler blamed the Biden administration for lax vetting that allowed bad actors to exploit immigration programs.

“These abuses are not harmless,” he wrote in a statement. “Meritless claims clog the system, drain limited resources, and delay relief for legitimate victims of crime. USCIS is taking aggressive action to identify, expose, and eliminate fraud.”

Erin O’Neil, an attorney based in Connecticut, said some of her clients are now in deportation proceedings triggered by allegations of fraud over minor inconsistencies that have no bearing on the case. In one case that resulted in a denial based on fraud, she said, the allegation was simply that her client failed to disclose a two-week work assignment in another state.

“In the past, the worst that would happen is your citizenship application would be denied,” O’Neil said. “Now we have seen through several of my clients that, not only is the citizenship application denied, but they are placed into removal proceedings.”

Growing up without “two nickels to rub together,” John McKinney never thought he’d be a lawyer.

At the beginning of 2026, sitting in his office as one of the highest-ranking prosecutors in Los Angeles County, McKinney had no designs on trying to become L.A.’s city attorney.

But if he can beat progressive darling Marissa Roy next month and finish off an upstart campaign that barely had a pulse six months ago, McKinney would complete a lifelong underdog story that saw him go from working as a house painter and substitute teacher to pay for college to serving as the top lawyer for the second-largest city in America.

A highly regarded trial lawyer, McKinney, 58, claims an undefeated record in homicide trials and has won convictions in some of the region’s most infamous crimes, including the murder of beloved L.A. hip-hop star Nipsey Hussle. He reached his longtime perch in the district attorney’s office’s major crimes unit after a lifetime of struggle. Both of McKinney’s parents died before he was 5, and he was raised by his oldest sister in a cramped household with half a dozen other children in Passaic, N.J.

John McKinney speaks at a news conference at the Los Angeles Police Protective League in May.

(Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)

McKinney beams with pride while discussing his hardscrabble East Coast upbringing — whether praising his sister’s hustle for working “six days a week,” or refusing to turn in his Yankees hat in a Dodger blue city. In interviews, he’ll sneak in a verbal jab at Roy, then finish the insult with a wry smirk. McKinney notes he’s been a prosecutor almost as long as his 34-year-old opponent has been alive.

“She’s never tried a case,” McKinney said. “When you’re running for city attorney overseeing trial lawyers and having to make high-impact decisions on whether to settle a case for $20 million or not, you should at least know what it’s like to go through a jury trial.”

Roy was part of the team that secured a $17-billion settlement from Meta in a landmark case this year, and has tried many cases decided by judges, rather than jury panels. She’s pushed back on McKinney’s barbs, noting he has no experience handling civil cases, a core component of the job.

McKinney has focused his campaign on lessening the city’s homelessness crisis by leveraging people into treatment, tackling quality-of-life crimes, and reducing the city’s out-of-control legal costs.

But he faces an uphill battle. Roy, a deputy state attorney general, has been campaigning for more than a year and raised more than twice as much money as McKinney. With the backing of both the county’s Democratic Party and the local Democratic Socialists of America chapter, Roy won June’s primary easily, outpacing McKinney by 15 percentage points. Both finished far ahead of City Atty. Hydee Feldstein Soto.

Marissa Roy, a deputy attorney general with the California Department of Justice, is running against John McKinney to become L.A.’s next city attorney.

(Gary Coronado/For The Times)

Los Angeles County Dist. Atty. Nathan Hochman leads a strong coalition of law enforcement support for McKinney, who has also been endorsed by four former city attorneys, two prior district attorneys and several City Council members, including Traci Park.

McKinney has emphasized the word “Democrat” in his ads, a nod to Roy’s attempts to cast him as the preferred choice of Republicans who won’t stand up to the Trump administration if elected. Although McKinney rubbed elbows with Republicans during efforts to recall then-Dist. Atty. George Gascón and employed fundraisers who worked with Trump, he says he “despises” the president and was disgusted by immigration raids in the city last year.

McKinney thinks Roy’s emphasis on fighting Trump speaks to a misunderstanding of the job. Across the country, it has been state attorneys general, not city attorneys, who have spearhead litigation against the White House, said McKinney, who dismissed the partisan attacks as a “misleading smear campaign.”

“Her lack of management experience and jury trial experience has not gone unnoticed by voters and her platform of wanting to turn the city attorney’s office into the country’s largest public interest law firm is out of alignment with the issues important to voters: public safety, homelessness and protecting taxpayer dollars,” he said.

Long before he was concerned about winning an elected office, McKinney was simply worried about survival.

The youngest of seven children, McKinney lost his mother to cancer when he was only 2. His father passed away unexpectedly three years later. His oldest sister, Ora, was recently divorced with three kids of her own but took in McKinney and his sister. He remained especially close to Ora — whom he described as his “mother, father and best friend” — until she passed away last year.

With his caretaker working nearly round the clock, McKinney said, he easily could have run in the streets with friends caught up in the crack cocaine boom of the 1980s. But McKinney said his sister’s determination inspired him to choose a better path.

“My sister made me believe there was really no limit to what I could do in life if I worked hard enough for it,” he said.

McKinney isn’t seeking sympathy, but believes sharing his backstory shows he’s “lived a life that mirrors a lot of the adversity Angelenos face every day.”

For much of his career in L.A., McKinney was seen as one of the district attorney’s office’s premier trial lawyers. He said he had no interest in management or politics until Gascón was elected in 2020. McKinney was one of several prosecutors to publicly criticize and sue Gascón. His involvement in the failed bid to recall Gascón put him in a political spotlight for the first time. He frequently spoke at recall events — which sometimes overlapped with rallies against Gov. Gavin Newsom and promoted conservative causes — and later joined the crowded field vying to replace Gascón in 2024.

Colleagues said McKinney has a history of being able to reach across ideological and cultural aisles. Bobby Grace, a veteran prosecutor who has worked with McKinney for decades, said he had a knack for getting people to take risks to take the stand in important cases.

“I think that’s where he made his reputation as a good trial lawyer,” Grace said. “To be successful, particularly in gangs, you’ve got to be able to convince witnesses who don’t want to come forward, and I think that was really his strength.”

Although he failed to gain traction in the race to unseat Gascón, finishing far behind Hochman, he caught the future district attorney’s eye and the two became allies. When Hochman took office, he put McKinney in charge of specialized prosecutions, giving him oversight of a wide range of cases, including cop killings, juvenile crimes, gang homicides and child abuse.

McKinney said he wasn’t even thinking about getting into the city attorney race until the middle of January, when a number of people approached him about entering.

City attorney candidate John McKinney, left, walks through Skid Row in downtown Los Angeles on July 1.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

By March, McKinney was scrambling to get a campaign together, and Hochman was quick to lend the fundraisers and managers who helped him oust Gascón.

He soon ascended from nonfactor to legitimate contender. Frustrated with ballooning legal costs and her handling of a department data breach, the city’s powerful police union abandoned Feldstein Soto and backed McKinney. Independent expenditures — political interest groups that can spend unlimited amounts in campaigns if they don’t coordinate with candidates — doled out $3 million to support McKinney.

In total, records show those groups have spent nearly $5 million on McKinney. More than half of that money has come from a venture capitalist who has publicly praised Elon Musk and a political action committee run by Airbnb, the rental giant currently facing a lawsuit from the city for price gouging during the wildfires.

McKinney insists campaign support won’t influence his decision-making in office. He has vowed to sue Airbnb if it engages in price gouging, and he knows the Los Angeles Police Department is a major factor in the city’s rising litigation costs. Given his law enforcement background, he argues he’s better positioned to influence police than Roy.

“I think because they know I’m not coming at them from a vindictive point of view, trying to underfund them or undermine them, that my criticism will be taken for what it’s worth, which is to make them stronger, to make them more trusted and more effective,” he said.

Whereas Hochman often compared L.A. to crime-plagued “Gotham City,” McKinney acknowledges the city’s more recent struggles are not with violence, but with quality-of-life crimes: unchecked homeless encampments, street racing, animal abuse on Skid Row.

Walking around Skid Row this summer, McKinney spoke with several people who approached from tents and other jerry-rigged structures. He listened closely as they explained their struggles and pleaded for help in a part of the city few residents ever set foot in. He describes his approach to the city’s homeless crisis as one of “compassionate accountability.”

“Every person who is living on the street has had some tragic circumstance in their life,” he said that day.

McKinney acknowledged he can’t do anything about a lack of housing as city attorney, but he can better manage the way L.A. throws resources at the problem. That includes more sophisticated audits of community-based organizations that have contracts with the city to aid unhoused people, he said.

Ultimately, he does not want to punish people who are suffering, but thinks the city attorney’s office can use its power of prosecution to pressure homeless defendants suffering from addiction or mental health issues into treatment. The mission is a personal one for McKinney, who grew up with a schizophrenic nephew whose slow decline he watched for years.

“When I talk about compassionate accountability, it’s not just a campaign slogan for me,” he said. “It’s real. These are real people.”

Liev Schreiber appeared to be scolding an interviewer Tuesday during the red-carpet premiere for his new Apple TV series, “Nocturne.”

A bystander captured a behind-the-scenes snippet of the 59-year-old, who was seen speaking to a female reporter, likely part of the Apple TV team.

“Talk to people like they value what they do,” Schreiber said in the clip. “It’s not a f— sound bite, especially when we’re doing it in-house for our own people.”

The Tony Award winner added, “We’re trying to make the show compelling” and suggested that the reporter “engage” with the individuals involved in the project.

It is unclear what question was asked in the lead-up to the awkward interaction, although the “Ray Donovan” actor followed up with: “Three words isn’t gonna do anything for anybody and the monkey who f— thought of that is shooting themselves in the foot.”

The woman, who was holding an Apple TV microphone, continued to smile, telling someone in the background, “I hope you’re rolling on this.”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Schreiber continued, “if you wanna give them something that they can use, talk to people like they’re humans, not like they’re social media.”

The woman then appeared to reframe her question, to which the “Spotlight” actor agreed to respond on camera, adding, “That’s a real question; let’s talk about that.”

The Times reached out to Schreiber’s representatives and Apple TV but did not hear back.

Schreiber is both executive producer and star of “Nocturne,” which is set to premiere Oct. 30.

The drama is based on the Lars Kepler crime novels, including “The Sandman” and “Lazarus.” The series follows Jonah Lynn (played by Schreiber), an ex-soldier turned homicide detective who moves from Philadelphia to western Pennsylvania for a quieter life. But the town is shaken up by an imprisoned serial killer, Jurek Walter (“Adolescence” actor Stephen Graham), which prompts FBI agent Saga Bauer (“Atlanta’s” Zazie Beetz) to go undercover.

Amid all the turmoil of 2026, some may yearn to dial the culture back to 2016 — in all its rainbow-saturated, Rio de Janeiro Instagram-filtered glory.

Neoperreo, the Latin American genre born of that internet era, turns 10 this year. Artists built it as a reimagining of reggaeton music, by and for femmes and freaks: cis and trans women, as well as the frikis from Latin America’s punk and alt scenes, who never fit the mold. For them, this cutting-edge sound and the internet community around it offered a lifeline.

A decade after the term first circulated, neoperreo (as in, the new perreo) has exapanded from SoundCloud and DIY parties into a global network of artists, DJs and festivals.

The genre takes a distinctly techno-infused approach to the dembow rhythm, stripping reggaeton of any acoustic elements and assembling them anew on a laptop to sound colder and faster. With the bass hollowed out and Auto-Tune cranked up, the vocals take on a metallic sheen — as women spit risqué verses claiming their rightful place as subjects, as opposed to the sex objects that men would relegate them to.

Both released in 2016, two of the songs that defined the genre early on — Tomasa del Real’s “Bien y Mal” and Ms Nina’s “Tu Sicaria” — pair hooks you can perrear to with beats that sound like they were built in a bedroom, because they actually were.

Beyond its sound, the genre created worlds: digital networks where outsiders across the Americas and Europe found each other, and parties where queer, trans and friki Latines could show up exactly as they were.

As trans and Latine communities face mounting attacks on their rights and safety, those spaces, alongside the new ones they’ve inspired, keep carrying weight.

“It didn’t have a name yet, but it was born from this desire to experiment and create something new at its core,” says Elisa Espinoza, the 34-year-old Swiss Army knife of an artist known as DJ Lizz. Raised in the southern Chilean town of Hualpén, she traces that initial spark to her country’s history.

“Chile is a country [that experienced] a dictatorship, a country that always sought a kind of homogeneity — a sickness that hopefully we’d all think the same, look the same, act the same,” she says. “At that moment, everyone was trying to create something, to identify with [who] we really are. Out of that constant search comes experimentation, which goes hand in hand with sexual liberation, liberation from social class. That spoke to a revolutionary spirit.”

For Espinoza, that liberation meant reclaiming a femininity she had once feared, by drawing from drag culture and the ’80s vogue tradition. “I hypersexualized myself, I hyperfeminized myself, just like a drag queen — and that somehow empowered me even more,” she says, recalling men who yelled obscenities at her on the street or tried to grab her ass when she wore shorts.

“Men were the owners of women’s sexuality, and now we’re the owners of our sexuality,” she says.

From the other end of the country, artist Tomasa del Real, born Valeria Cisternas, began to approach music with a similar ethos in her hometown of Iquique, which sits on Chile’s northern coast. When both eventually moved to, and met in, Santiago, they realized that other artists from around the world were chasing the same idea.

“On the internet, people found freedom they didn’t find in their own country or city,” says Espinoza. “We were all united by the same search.”

From this virtual community came neoperreo’s signature sound: a hedonistic mix of reggaeton and Latin rhythms with industrial, electronic, funk and trap elements. “What came out was, for some people, a work of art; for other people, a monster,” says Espinoza.

As cisgender, straight women, the community they describe both includes and extends beyond their own identities. “It was the first time someone said, ‘No, this music I make, at least in Latin America, isn’t for men.’ It’s for women, and it’s for gays,” Espinoza says.

The term “neoperreo” came about almost by accident. On an episode of Red Bull Radio in 2016, Cisternas, now 39, says she tried to explain in her “basic English” that she wasn’t really sure the music she made should be called reggaeton at all. Reggaeton came from Puerto Rico, by way of reggae en español; her lyrics and rhythms were different, and the people collaborating with her came from electronica, not the island.

She didn’t want to appropriate a culture that wasn’t hers, so she reached for another way to describe it: not as the new reggaeton, but the new music you can perreo to. Twerking, she wanted to explain, a woman can do alone; but perreo takes two. “So I meant to say el nuevo perreo, but in English, I said neo — neoperreo,” she says.

And the name just stuck.

That same year, Cisternas and Espinoza started throwing parties in Santiago under the hashtag #NeoPerreo. They called in a crowd from society’s margins: a community “of DJs, dancers, strippers, tattoo artists, of the alternative world, the more gothic world, the misfits themselves,” says Cisternas.

At their first event, the line wrapped around the block.

“It was a really important moment for the history of reggaeton, because there were no spaces where someone gay could show up with [both] their metalhead friend and their crazy girlfriend to dance reggaeton. Those spaces didn’t exist; reggaeton was very marginal, completely removed from society. This brought us closer,” says Cisternas.

The scene also became a way to make money. “It gave work to a lot of us who didn’t have access to money that immediately; we created a lot of work for ourselves,” she says. “A lot of people built their careers at that moment too.”

Jorgelina Andrea del Valle Torres, the Argentine neoperreo artist known as Ms Nina, also remembers those first parties affectionately. “It widened the audience,” she says. “In the end, we created a community where everyone feels seen and safe.”

But neoperreo wasn’t always received so warmly. “People didn’t understand it because they weren’t used to it. They were used to basic reggaeton,” Torres says. “There was a scene in Spain too, with trap and reggaeton built on SoundCloud and turned-up Auto-Tune. [But it was] a new kind of music nobody else was making. Everybody kind of hated it. And now everybody’s doing it.”

Growing up in central Argentina, Torres always felt judged and bullied for being different; she’s spent the last 20 years in Alicante, Spain, where she says she finally feels free to explore her bisexuality. Still, the cumbia villera of her childhood — a heavily synthesized subgenre born in the outskirts of Buenos Aires in the late 1990s — runs through everything she makes.

Argentina, like Chile, was barely a generation out from a military dictatorship when it had partnered with Augusto Pinochet’s regime to hunt down dissidents. Music of the margins — which before neoperreo was punk rock and hip-hop — had been framed in opposition to polite society.

Although reggaeton originated in the streets, the genre hit its zenith in the mainstream this year, thanks to Bad Bunny’s historic Super Bowl halftime show and Karol G’s headlining set at Coachella. Yet Cisternas, despite having performed at Coachella herself in 2019, argues that neoperreo will never be mainstream in the same way.

“It’s too weird — and that’s fine,” she says. “The weirder, the better.”

For the often overlapping worlds of sex work and queer nightlife, the underground movement provided a natural shelter for those unsafe to be themselves in the mainstream, from the leading artists who candidly promote their music alongside erotic content on OnlyFans, to trans artists like Sasha Sathya, who discuss gendered violence and labor in their lyrics. And as governments in Argentina and the U.S. roll back protections for queer and trans people, the freedoms cultivated on the dance floor remain far from assured outside it.

“Above all, because of the trans laws, that’s where there’s still a long way to go,” she says. “It’s important that we keep going.”

Yet now, 10 years in, the movement’s heirs may not call themselves neoperreo at all.

On another late summer night in New York, under the red glow of the DJ booth and a canopy of globe string lights, the rooftop’s wooden floorboards dip beneath scores of platform heels. An outdoor thermometer clocks a temperature of 100 degrees as the sounds of Y2K-era reggaeton reverberate. There’s no shortage of snapbacks, piercings, baby bangs and baggy jorts.

For queer people who never had the canonical experience of grinding in their high school gym, a party called Trakata fills that primal need — and operates on the same queer, rebellious frequency as neoperreo.

At these incandescent parties, Trakata founder Tani Shimizu, a 26-year-old trans man, can be found entrenched on the dance floor, often perreando with one or more beautiful, curly-haired femmes. At a local Caribbean cafe, complete with pastel floral tiles, plastic-covered couches, and the trills of guitar from “Pa’ Que Retozen” echoing through maxed-out speakers, he explains how it all began.

When looking to fundraise for his top surgery last winter, the 26-year-old joined together with some friends from the trans collective Body Hack to throw a queer-friendly perreo party. Hosted at the Bush, a Brooklyn lesbian bar Shimizu had been infamously bartending at, the first event drew close to 600 attendees. “People were like, ‘Oh, my God, we’ve been dying for this,’” he says.

The turnout convinced Shimizu there was a market for the party, along with the chance to create paid work for himself and others. “I cared a lot about how this could be an opportunity for people to make money, myself included,” he says. “I believe in compensating people fairly, even my friends.”

Shimizu, a first-generation Peruvian from Los Angeles, admits he isn’t too familiar with the specifics of neoperreo. Though Ms Nina’s “Tu Sicaria” makes its way onto the playlist some nights, his resident DJs mostly stick to the classics at their parties, and that’s intentional.

Whereas artists back home innovate to push against the status quo, in predominantly white U.S. spaces — especially for queer Latines — the older reggaeton tracks feel more alt.

“Trans and queer people are often pigeonholed to this idea of being really alternative in sound,” he says. “There’s something arguably subversive about going, ‘No, it’s actually OK to honor culturally what we have always held onto’ — and what was principal in our identities, regardless of these other subversive or subaltern identities that we embody.”

While the sonic identity of the space roots itself in nostalgia and reconnection, Shimizu strives to balance novelty in the construction of the space, while reaffirming the desire for Trakata to reflect what has been historically true of queer gatherings.

“There’s this deeper desire and this deeper politic. It just so happens to take place in the context of a club on a Friday, or Saturday night, at these hours.”

Nearly a year into his transition, he reflects on a newfound enlightenment. “Transness has given me the liberty to not be so consumed with what I look like,” Shimizu says. “I’m not dwelling any longer, which is really freeing. [It] gives you a lot of mental space to focus on things that are more important.”

That freedom from the mirror is core to neoperreo’s mission: The pursuit of a dance floor where your body, and everyone else’s, are besides the point. Shimizu has built that into Trakata’s foundation. “I want people of all body types and existences,” he says.

Shimizu also wants to make it clear that Trakata isn’t for people who just want to look hot online. “It’s anyone who is interested in engaging with the cultural experience that we’re co-creating, and if you want to come to dance, and you want to stay off your damn phone.”

Trakata wasn’t created with neoperreo in mind; but with the same sweaty dance moves and the same people finding each other, it’s hard to tell where one stops and the other begins. Since Cisternas and Espinoza threw their first neoperreo party 10 years ago, their legacy has carried over to popular Boiler Room sets and underground queer sanctuaries in equal measure.

“[For] anyone who felt like a bit of a misfit, unwelcome in reggaeton,” says Cistnernas, “neoperreo is their home.”

This story was produced in partnership with the Trans Journalists Assn.

WASHINGTON — President Trump’s administration is on track to deport about 660,000 people over the past year, a new report released Thursday shows, as arrests ramp up across the country fueled by billions of dollars meant to supercharge his immigration agenda.

The report by the Migration Policy Institute shows deportations increased from 620,000 during the first year of Trump’s second administration. The numbers fall short of previous highs in the early 2000s and fail to meet the Trump administration’s promise, made when it received the billions from Congress, that the money would allow for 1 million deportations annually.

The report, based on publicly available data obtained through Freedom of Information Act requests, comes after the Trump administration in January 2025 stopped publicly releasing similar figures compiled by the Department of Homeland Security.

Trump, a Republican, returned to power last year promising to stanch crossings at the southern border and crack down on immigration. His administration has pushed through restrictions on both legal and illegal immigration and launched high-profile arrest operations in its bid to force migrants out.

More people being deported, but not at all-time highs

The analysis found that the Department of Homeland Security carried out 980,000 deportations during the first 18 months of the second Trump administration.

During the last fiscal year — when the Trump administration’s immigration enforcement mechanisms were shifting into high gear — an estimated 660,000 people were deported.

According to MPI’s analysis, that’s a 26% increase from the yearly average from 2021 to 2024 during the administration of President Biden, a Democrat, but well below the 1.86 million deportations recorded in 2000, under President Clinton, another Democrat.

Despite the surging arrests, the report details some of the challenges to the Trump administration reaching its deportation targets.

Historically, many immigrants living in the U.S. without authorization were from Mexico and didn’t often seek asylum. But in recent years, migrants have come to the U.S. from a wide range of countries, which can make it more complicated to deport them. And immigration courts, which ultimately decide whether someone can be removed from the country, face more significant case backlogs.

Voluntary departures are increasing as are interior arrests

The report said voluntary departures — when people give up their cases in immigration court and agree to leave the country — were at an “all-time high,” with 170,000 choosing to do so since Trump returned to office in January 2025. People who choose voluntary departure could one day return to the U.S. But some immigrant advocates and lawyers say that people give up their court fight and agree to leave simply to get out of U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, or ICE, detention.

The Trump administration was also increasingly deporting people it arrested in the country’s interior, the report said, reflecting how it was stepping up enforcement against migrants who have been in the country for a long time. In 2025, about 28% of the people deported were arrested inside the country, but by July of this year that had risen to 39%.

Migrants arrested at the southern border still make up a large number of deportations, the report said — 69% of all deportations between Jan. 20, 2025, and July 31, 2026, were of people initially intercepted at the border.

People in the country longer may have more opportunities to contest their removal while the government typically has greater authority to fast-track deportations for people arrested at the border.

The analysis said most people deported have never been convicted of a crime, despite the Trump administration claiming to be targeting the “worst of the worst.” Previous data has showed the same.

In response to the MPI report, White House spokesperson Lauren Bis said: “President Trump has delivered the largest reduction in illegal immigration in modern history.”

Trump administration no longer regularly releases immigration data

Homeland Security stopped releasing similar data when Trump took office, making it difficult to track one of his key campaign promises. Figures the Trump administration has released are inconsistent and unverifiable.

The administration says it is transparent. On Tuesday, it released some of its own figures as part of a document boasting of its achievements on immigration, including that 1.2 million migrants have been deported or removed during Trump’s second term. The discrepancy could not immediately be reconciled.

In the absence of regular data, analysts and activists interested in immigration trends have relied on information obtained through lawsuits or limited and sporadic information released by federal agencies to track deportation data.

Santana writes for the Associated Press.

On the balcony of a pink dockside building in San Pedro, a neon sign reading “Saturday Morning Fish Market” glows in the darkness. There’s a quiet stillness in the harbor — the only sounds are of the occasional gull and car whirring by. That is, until 1 a.m. rolls around.

Doors open at 1:30 a.m. at the Saturday Morning Fish Market.

This is when people begin to gather outside the roll-up door, some carrying backpacks ready to be filled.

At 1:30 a.m., a man in an orange apron lifts the door, releasing rays of white light onto the customers. They file inside, stepping onto the wet floor, eager to see the night’s beauties: freshly caught fish, filleted, deboned, washed and thrown onto thick mountains of crushed ice.

Shellfish, sardines, squid, mackerel and a market favorite, glowing salmon filets, sit on display. One employee pulls out crabs with a small net before letting a customer take their pick of the lot. Machines whir in an adjacent room, where fish are processed. Out back, sea lions bark, hoping for scraps.

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The Saturday Morning Fish Market, more formally known as J Deluca Fish Co., has existed for some time — owner John DeLuca claims a variation of the business began operating as early as the late ‘60s. As a child, DeLuca would greet his grandfather when he’d return to the San Pedro port with his catch, perhaps a fresh tuna or a bass to sell. For decades, the wholesale seafood distributor would open its market to the public just once a week — from 1:30 to 7:30 a.m. on Saturdays — usually seeing a smattering of mostly locals, the seafaring type, who might be shopping around after a late-night shift.

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1. Harikrishnan Babuchandran holds up his fresh fish. 2. Customers can watch their fish be processed. 3. The fish that’s for sale changes from week to week. (Linnea Stephan / For The Times)

The Saturday Morning Fish Market in San Pedro has existed in some form since the late ‘60s but thanks to social media, flocks of new customers are wanting in on the late-night seafood-buying adventure.

Neither DeLuca nor his son and co-owner, Chris, could have predicted the San Pedro institution would experience the boom in popularity it’s seeing now, especially in an industry that’s struggled over the past two decades.

Thanks to social media, the market is witnessing an unprecedented revival. At its pre-pandemic peak, it would get around 800 to 1,000 customers on a typical Saturday morning. Nowadays, up to 2,000 people walk through the doors, according to Chris, many of whom are visiting for the first time.

Owners John and Chris DeLuca.

Regarding Instagram and TikTok, where posts giving a glimpse of the late-night fish market have gone viral, John, 73, says, “I know absolutely zero.”

To his credit, he does exhibit some understanding of its effect. And he’s glad for it. “People that live within walking distance never knew we existed. Now they do, and it’s got nothing to do with me,” he says, grinning.

What’s most notable is the number of young people roaming around the market well before the crack of dawn, Chris says. The business has changed a lot since his “father’s generation,” and social media unlocked access to a new audience.

“I think people like those hidden gems and people like that fresh seafood experience,” he says.

Between rows of sea bass and salmon, the energy is buzzing. Abdul Fahwami, dressed in jeans and flip-flops, visits the fish market at least once or twice a month, depending on how many people he‘s having over at his house that week.

“Every time we come here, we buy a minimum of between 100 and 200 pounds,” he says. “Red snapper is one of the best fish.”

Branzino is a favorite among customers and employees.

He smiles as he watches employees process his fish on a long table. First, blades run against the fish scales, removing them in quick fashion. Then, there’s a swift slice across its belly, starting at a hole near the tail and ending up near the gill plate. Finally, the guts are removed and filets are cut, skin optional.

Prices change week in and week out, and depend on supply. While prices are typically 10% to 40% less than at stores, market representative Joe Castelao says the team values the “quality of our products” over “trying to cater to bargain finders.” Another advantage for customers is the ability to buy seafood in bulk, which often isn’t possible at your standard, local grocer.

On this day, there wasn’t much branzino, the fish Fahwami came early to look for. “I found only 11 pieces,” he says. “I took all of it!”

Not far away, a man named Terry Jackson waits in line; he’s wearing black overalls and swaying side to side, eager to advance.

Customer Terry Jackson at the Saturday Morning Fish Market.

“It’s definitely worth waking up a little late — or a little early, you could say,” he says. “The quality of the fish is good, plus the pricing.”

His fish of choice? “Tuna, my new favorite is tuna!” he says, proudly raising a plastic bag full of bright red filets.

Briskly pacing across the market floor are team members Mike and George Stahl, a father-son duo both wearing orange aprons and gloves.

Mike got into the seafood business about two decades ago. At the time, he lived in Florida and often purchased products from J Deluca Fish Co. By 2018, he’d moved his family out to California and started working at the market.

He says his favorite part is the variety of duties. “No two days are the same,” he says. “One day I could be selling a couple containers of squid, the next day I could be meeting face to face with someone at a conference on the other side of the country.”

Staff member George Stahl helps a patron.

He brought in his son George during the pandemic. As George explains, “We were bored and didn’t have anything to do at home so my dad said, ‘Why don’t you come down and put some boots on and start working?’”

George has become somewhat of a micro-celebrity around the market, frequently appearing in its Instagram posts. However, his time with the company might be temporary — he’s currently in school and plans to be a physical therapist at some point.

While the market is riding a wave of success, John doesn’t gloss over the grim outlook of the fishing and seafood industry as a whole. He says the industry has taken a hit over the years, between restrictions, overfishing and changing regulations.

“It’s a dying business,” John says, bleakly. “There’s very few seiners down here because it’s very difficult to make a living [fishing].

But for now, they’re able to survive. They watch as customers walk out of the market into the wee hours of the morning, proudly grasping their bags of the day’s freshest catch.

“A lot of things have gone the opposite direction,” John says. “But we’re still here.”

The fish market’s blue neon sign shines through the night.

Gomez, 51, won a special election to Congress in 2017, replacing Becerra, who stepped down after then-Gov. Jerry Brown nominated him for state attorney general.

On Aug. 17, the House Ethics Committee announced it was investigating Gomez for “inappropriate sexual contact with a House staffer.”

Two days later, attorneys Lisa J. Banks and Sarah E. Nesbitt said in a statement that they represented a woman the committee interviewed. The woman accused Gomez of sexual harassment and assault, according to the attorneys, who declined further comment.

Gomez acknowledged in a statement earlier this year that he made “personal mistakes outside my marriage,” but said that his “actions were consensual in nature and haven’t violated the law or House Ethics rules.”

He declined an interview request and is keeping a low profile during his reelection campaign. He successfully fended off challenges from David Kim, a progressive Democrat targeting him from the left, in 2020, 2022 and 2024. Kim has endorsed Gonzales-Torres.

Since Trump’s immigration crackdown, Gomez has focused on the treatment of immigrants and congressional oversight of federal detention centers. He and 12 other House members successfully sued the Trump administration after he was blocked from entering a detention facility and has said he trained legal observers to document ICE abuses.

His campaign touts his record as chair of the affordability-focused Congressional Renters Caucus and his support for proposed legislation that seeks to lower housing costs, expand supply and strengthen pathways to ownership.

He also backs two hallmark progressive initiatives, the Green New Deal and Medicare for all.

Gonzales-Torres, 31, previously worked as a part-time counselor for formerly incarcerated Pasadena City College students, interned in Mayor Karen Bass’s administration and volunteered on the Metro Public Safety Advisory Committee.

She is backed by the Los Angeles branch of the L.A. chapter of the Democratic Socialists of America, as well as Justice Democrats, the influential left-wing PAC known for helping Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-New York) win her first election in 2018.

If elected, Gonzales-Torres would focus on dismantling the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement and seek a federal wealth tax on the ultra-rich.

She is calling for a moratorium on new data center construction until federal standards are in place and wants to end federal fossil fuel subsidies.

Gonzales-Torres has not held elected office beyond her two years — one as president — on the Historic Highland Park Neighborhood Council in 2023-25.

Several board members criticized her tenure. One, Caroline Aguirre, filed a police report alleging Gonzales-Torres thrust a finger into her face at a meeting. Aguirre shared the incident report with The Times but said police ultimately took no action.

Darren Gold, who is now board president, said Gonzales-Torres falsely accused him of shaking her, prompting a city investigation. Gold denied the interaction, accused Gonzales-Torres of lying and won reinstatement.

Both Gold and Jens Jonasson, another board member, described Gonzales-Torres’s leadership as chaotic, adding that she used the position to express personal views on gentrification and out-of-neighborhood issues such as Gaza.

“She was not effective at turning priorities into results, working through disagreements and staying with the job when things didn’t go her way,” said Jonasson.

Gonzales-Torres declined to comment on the incidents Aguirre and Gold alleged. She said that she was proud of her work connecting businesses with city services and other achievements.

She said she stepped down as president to volunteer for Kim’s 2024 campaign.

Outside money

The American Israel Public Affairs Committee has repeatedly backed Gomez’s re-election campaigns, including this cycle, prompting criticism by both the Justice Democrats and Gonzales-Torres.

Gomez’s campaign points to his call for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s resignation, a push for humanitarian aid in Gaza and a ceasefire.

In July, Gomez voted against an amendment to cut off aid to Israel, even as many other Democrats supported the initiative.

Gomez told Politico the amendment was “overly broad and would also restrict programs that facilitate humanitarian aid for Palestinians and refugee resettlement, peace-building efforts, and our ability to confront terrorist organizations like Hamas and Hezbollah.”

“It would empower the Trump administration to determine what gets funded and what does not,” he said.

AI is also an issue in the race, although both candidates support regulation.

Guardrails Alliance, a political action committee seeking stricter regulation of the tech industry, backs Gonzales-Torres.

A PAC affiliated with the AI industry, Leading the Future, supports Gomez, though it has yet to announce spending in his race.

Eric Dangerfield is surrounded by senior citizens.

After a packed set at Riot Fest the previous weekend, the 25-year-old lead singer and rhythm guitarist of the Paradox welcomed the quiet of his boomer-dominated neighborhood.

“I’m a suburban dude,” he said, smiling from his home in metro Atlanta, his cropped two-toned dreads bobbing as he spoke.

The Paradox spent much of the summer on the festival circuit, powering through a growing discography of pop-punk gems, so Dangerfield and the three other band members are taking a brief breather before their Proceed With Caution Tour starts this month — their first as headliners.

It’s peaceful. That is, “Except when the boys come over,” he adds.

On a late morning in September, the boys are here and accounted for: patching in to a video call, minutes apart, from their homes, also in suburban ATL. Dangerfield, born with the perfect stage name, has ideas that flow faster than he can seem to get them out. Then there’s Donald Bryant on bass. Yin to Dangerfield’s yang, with a quiet, commanding presence.

Percy “PC3” Crews has been playing drums since he was 3, and his vicious skills on the drum kit contrast with a cheery, relaxed demeanor. Finally, there’s Christopher Bernard, a.k.a. Xelan — the lead guitarist and Dangerfield’s vocal complement.

Dangerfield likens the four to musical superheroes from a Marvel series. But not so much the “Earth’s mightiest heroes” variety.

On their first headlining tour, the band brings its new EP, “Proceed With Caution,” to Los Angeles while claiming space in a historically white genre and weaving social commentary into its pop-punk sound.

(Shorefire Media)

“I’m like Mister Fantastic and Donald’s my Invisible Woman. Xelan’s the Thing, and Percy is John Storm,” he says of his partners in musical mischief. “If I’m ugly, just say that,” quips Xelan, the band’s oldest member at 30. “Yeah. Because you’re strong, bro,” reassures Eric.

By this time, the interview has devolved into fun-loving chaos.

They finish each other’s sentences and switch up their Google Meet backgrounds, cracking up as an awkward graduation portrait pops up. At some point, Bernard decides to give a bedroom tour, showing off his collection of Blink-182 and Fall Out Boy posters.

A photo of him with Travis Barker hangs next to a framed Billboard plaque on a nightstand. Barker was featured on the Paradox’s 2025 single “Bender” and performed with the group at Vans Warped Tour the same year.

The Billboard plaque commemorates the band’s song “Get the Message” from its debut EP, “NSFW,” reaching No. 1 on the Alternative Airplay chart in January — a great achievement for any rock artist — but the Paradox also happens to be the first all-Black band to do so.

The success, although rapid, didn’t come from nowhere. All of the members have been working toward music in some form for years.

Dangerfield had a deal with a small label where he was originally making a go of it as a pop and R&B soloist. He also put out his music online. Looking for something different, he remembered his passing interest in pop-punk from his days growing up in Palm Coast, Fla. It was the “Fat Lip” video by Sum 41 that sealed the deal.

Yearning to be in a band, he started working with Bernard, whom he met online and shared his passion for the genre. Bryant was Dangerfield’s childhood friend from Palm Coast who had also moved to Atlanta, while Crews had been a fixture on the local music scene. And the name? It came from Dangerfield’s love of quantum physics.

Shortly after the group officially formed in June 2024, Dangerfield’s then-girlfriend — now wife and band “momager” Lexi Dangerfield — opened Instagram and TikTok accounts filming and posting their homey videos. The band’s song “Kaitlyn” and some covers blew up. The artists’ perspective, filtered through a Gen Z lens, struck a multigenerational nerve.

Attention came so quickly that Dangerfield felt the need to defend against online detractors who were convinced the group was an industry plant.

From there, the fairy-tale plot thickened. Billie Joe Armstrong followed Dangerfield on Instagram, and the two struck up a friendship that led to the Paradox opening for Green Day on the Atlanta stop of its Saviors Tour. But this was, of course, after Jack White’s people called — who the group ended up opening for at Basement East in Nashville.

Things haven’t slowed down in the two years since, with opportunities coming fast and furious. In the spring of last year, the band signed a deal with Hundred Days Records, a subsidiary of Virgin Music Group, and teamed up with producers Mike Pepe and Robopop to work on “NSFW.”

“Bender,” the group’s collaboration with Barker, and “Do Me Like That” are featured on Madden NFL 27 and NBA 2K26 video game soundtracks. Last month, the musicians streamed a concert from Twitch superstar Kai Cenat’s house. And now, instead of opening for their idols, they are inviting them up on stage as guests. For their second Warped Tour in Long Beach, that meant Deryck Whibley of Sum 41 and Logan Henderson from Big Time Rush.

The embrace from established musicians has definitely helped the band navigate its rise. In a moment of doubt, Crews said Good Charlotte’s Joel Madden, in particular, came through with sage advice.

“He asked me a question: ‘How does it feel being where we were?’ And I was like, ‘It feels like a dream.’ It felt like I was gonna wake up on my desk sophomore year with drool on my f— table. And I was telling him that, and he was like, ‘You know, it may feel that way, but it is real … It’s real, and it’s you … you belong in these rooms.’”

The irony of being embraced in a mostly white subgenre of punk rock while Black American culture formed its foundation is not lost on the group. Had the band come about during one of Dangerfield’s favorite eras of music, the ’50s and ’60s — there would likely have been rooms in which they weren’t welcomed.

While the band members understand the impact their visibility has — especially for non-white kids who grew up in the suburbs as they did: skating, riding BMX, building Legos, watching anime, dreaming of a life onstage — it does require some balance. “They’re not asking Taking Back Sunday this stuff,” Dangerfield acknowledged when asked if they might tire of the representation mantle. “Or Blink, but … We are a minority in this space and in this country, and I think that you know the stuff that comes with being Black should definitely be talked about. I think those conversations are important.”

He said as much in August, when the group made its Tiny Desk debut in celebration of NPR’s Black Music Month. “Now, like they said, we made history,” he said, leaning into the mic after the first song. “And the Paradox is in the business of bringing rock ’n’ roll back to the originators.”

A glance at the comment section under the video makes clear the group’s authenticity resonates with those who haven’t felt seen or heard in certain spaces.

“I’m a black girl from the suburbs of Metro ATL,” wrote @rainjojo. “And I’m glad to see representation of people who are like me indulging in punk rock. I got into this genre from childhood shows like “16,” “Stoked”, and other early 2000 to 2010 shows, and I remember being bullied for being whitewashed. Please keep making more music like this.”

The tour is named after “Proceed With Caution,” the band’s sophomore EP released on Oct. 2. Across six tracks, it continues in the same vein as “NSFW,” with sharp melodies and a dash of humor thrown in. But on “That’s Not Fair,” the group wades deeper into social commentary. It was also the most difficult to record, cut raw with no click track.

“We were just trying to think of things that were not fair, [from] small and trivial like losing your keys to, I don’t know, using it as a bridge to talk about larger issues and things like that,” Dangerfield says of the song. “I think a big thing for me personally, it’s not political … is kind of the fact that everything is getting so expensive. The price of everything is rising so rapidly, and the salaries that people are being paid are not really growing to match that.”

The Paradox perform at The Moroccan Lounge on Thursday, Oct. 22.

(Hunter Lyon)

“And it’s like, we got very lucky, but the thing is, most people don’t,” he continued. “If you’re gonna sacrifice all your time, slaving away working for big corporations and stuff like that, you should at least be able to, you know, buy a candy bar or something.”

So far, the musicians aren’t taking anything for granted and are trying to enjoy the in-between moments.

Dangerfield and his wife took their daughter on a Disney cruise for her second birthday — she’s spent much of her young life traveling with the band.

With some of his publishing money, Bernard indulged his love of vintage Japanese fashion and has a 2000s-era Tuscan house on his vision board. Crews stays healthy, listens to lots of Snarky Puppy, and looks forward to the relaxed cannabis laws of L.A. when the tour stops at the Moroccan Lounge on Oct. 22 and 23. If time allows, he might even have time to surf in Malibu.

Bryant, who counts Mike Dirnt, Mark Hoppus and James Jamerson among his biggest influences, balances a dream of seeing his band play for thousands with looking forward to a life lived like his older brother: a chiropractor with a nice family.

But some dreams will have to wait as the band goes back to making music, hopefully with lasting impact. The members want to become household names, “like Nirvana,” with music people will play for hundreds of years. Why not?

Anything is possible when you are a fantastic foursome.

It’s the third afternoon in another string of sweltering days in Los Angeles. A recent Friday offers no salvation for the weekend ahead besides sitting in front of a fan or turning up the air conditioning.

Thankfully, standing inside the climate-controlled walls of the Line hotel’s lobby and behind a cup of joe from its Alfred Coffee, there’s a smidgen of comfort.

The bell to the ground floor elevator rings and out steps a tall figure, wearing an all-black ensemble. His shorts hang just below his knees, his hair is a bit messy and his boots climb up his calf.

Grian Chatten looks remarkably cool for someone who’s just rolled out of bed, even more so for someone who has a performance at Hollywood Forever Cemetery later that night. He’s the leading man behind Fontaines D.C., a Dublin-born rock quintet that’s become one of the most exciting acts to grace a stage today.

And how couldn’t they be?

Their 2019 debut, “Dogrel,” was met with critical acclaim, a masterful album with references to James Joyce and a teeming garage-style production. Fast-forward five years later and their fourth effort, “Romance,” became their first to chart in the United States, reaching No. 97 on the Billboard 200.

Nowadays, they’re kicking up dust again with the release of “Dopamine Chamber,” which came out last Friday via XL Recordings. Its a continuation of the precedent they’ve set in terms of lyrical and sonic quality, but simultaneously is far more melancholic and synthesized than their previous work.

“Dopamine Chamber” is the band’s fifth release, following the success of “Romance” back in 2024.

(Ewen Spencer)

However, its rollout was rocky as the debut music video “Marianne” was criticized for its use of artificial intelligence. When the psychedelic, entrancing recording first hit YouTube, it listed a credit for AI “artists” in its description, sounding alarms among the band’s loyal fan base.

After all, it was widely viewed as contradictory of the group, which has been vehemently outspoken on various contemporary issues, including what the U.N. Human Rights Council has officially concluded to be genocide in Gaza.

We sat down with Chatten to discuss the new album, as well as some of the backlash the band has recently faced.

Tell me about this album title. Is it a literal happiness chamber?

It was me [who came up with it] because it originated as a line in a song, and the song never made it onto the album. We kept the pairing of words “dopamine chamber.”

I wanted to make it a bit more literary. Turns out that the dopamine chamber … it’s where they put rats to test different chemicals or in order to check their dopamine levels. We found that out after.

So it’s fake happiness.

It’s almost like nonconsensual happiness. I mean, if that exists.

Do you ever feel like that in life? Like you’re like forced to be happy with everything bleak that’s going on?

I think we force ourselves to feel a certain happiness every now and then, just so we can compartmentalize things and go about our day. I think that’s a survival mechanism, anyway. But to lose that is dangerous.

This album is a lot more synthesized than your previous work. “Six Short Morning” and “Mimesis” definitely stand out there.

It made sense, thematically. I felt that those textures signaled … I hate using the word “dystopian,” but the dystopian future. I wanted the album to feel more like an advanced version of “Romance,” where the body of the record had become more bionic. There’s a reason that there are so many strings and cinematic stuff, that’s the organic world that I wanted to draw on — people like Mina, the ‘60s singer from Italy.

The acoustic sounds are, of course, still present.

They’re supposed to be kind of like fighting for space, a little bit.

One track that stuck out to me was “Happy for You,” because of it’s insincere flattery. Who or what do you have in mind when you write songs like that?

It’s a bit like [R.E.M.’s] “Shiny Happy People,” it’s a similar function. That song is a jealousy of other people’s happiness or well-adjustedness.

I noticed those internal struggles show up a lot on this album. On “One Man,” are you singing about feeling the weight of many?

I think that’s more about the general existential feeling of helplessness in the face of things that are happening in the world. I’ve got a really good friend called Nikolaj Schultz, do you know him?

No idea.

He’s a sociologist and philosopher, and he writes mostly about the environment, the Anthropocene, and he’s written a couple of books with the French philosopher Bruno Latour, who passed away [in 2022]. He’s someone who’s strapped to their bed and feels away the world from morning to night.

That was a profound influence on “Romance” and on this album. So I think “One Man” pertains to that, maybe even to him.

It seems like you are heavily inspired by literature, more so than other artists would be by just general music and listening.

I think in literature, I can understand sometimes what the point is in what they’re writing. For example, this Schultz book “Land Sickness,” the style of it is to render the audience sensitive to this issue just by the osmosis of showing how much it affects you. Like, my mom got me into music by showing me how much it affected her.

How did the feature with Rosalía come about for “Where Is Gone?”

Well, this is our first feature. Carlos [O’Connell], our guitarist, grew up in Spain and had been listening to her first couple of records. Then we got into “Motomami” together and it became a fixture to listen to it backstage before our shows. When “Lux” came out, we were all quite obsessed with it.

We were four days out from mixing or from mastering the album, and Carlos rang me. He was like, “I think we’d be mistaken to not just send Rosalía something and see if she’d be interested.”

We sent her four tracks. We sent her “Where Is Gone?,” “One Man,” “Tongue,” and I can’t remember what the other one was. She got back within 48 hours with a full vocal of “Where Is Gone?”

You weren’t in the studio together?

She was on tour. She was in Miami at the time.

What happened with “Marianne?” There was a moment where it was credited to AI “artists.” Then it was corrected to be effects artists.

I woke up at like 5:30 a.m. the day after the video came out, and I saw an article that said there was AI used in the video, and I called our management, and I was like, “What the f—, is this true?” and it turned out that there was some AI used in like the workflow or the postproduction.

So all those main scenes and main effects and stuff were VFX and prosthetics, like the cheeks and everything. Over 110 people worked on the thing. It was a real huge human effort. But then somewhere in the process, someone from the VFX team I guess used some kind of AI in the workflow. And none of us were told about it. Apparently, not even our label or our management were told about it and it was a real shock.

Yeah, it seemed like you guys didn’t know.

Of course. I mean, we’re gonna have it written into our contracts going forward that like it can’t be in our music videos. You know what I mean? I don’t condone it.

I think a lot of people were shocked just because you guys are so active in contemporary issues, which AI certainly is.

It’s so f— ironic. No, very contradictory. The themes of the f— album as well. I was hoping to talk about how I felt about AI in interviews at some point anyway, and then this kind of pulled the rug from under that conversation a little bit.

It just f— sucked.

Well, how do you feel about AI?

I think it’s f— terrifying. I was watching a Robin Williams scene from “Dead Poets Society” when he talks about poetry, literature. These are the things that we stay alive for, and well, that’s exactly what AI threatens to rob from the human race.

I’ve seen those articles about those guys who are leaving AI companies because they said that the human race is going to be dead within 10 years. AI is literally rendering our souls obsolete and I think that is true death.

A lot of people say, “It’s here, we have to deal with it.”

We should just shut it off.

It always ends here. Every conversation [about AI] just ends grim. This is like every conversation with my dad over the last three years about it. It makes it tough to be alive, doesn’t it?

Beirut, Lebanon – After her husband died from COVID-19 in 2020, Lena Kouyoumjian moved back to her parents’ house in Mazraat Yachouh, a village 20 minutes’ drive from Beirut. For Lena, energetic and outgoing, the move was difficult, but she accepted that she needed help to care for her 20-year-old daughter, Vana, who is autistic and non-verbal.

Lena first noticed her daughter’s symptoms when she was two years old. Vana is still unable to communicate verbally how she feels, but her mother does her best to understand her.

Like many autistic individuals – and neurodivergent people in general – Vana needs a supportive and stable environment, alongside a structured routine, to feel well.

Lebanon has been engulfed in war since October 2023, with bombings across the country and an economic crisis continuing to impact all Lebanese, particularly neurodivergent people.

When Israel escalated its attacks on southern Lebanon in March, as a trainer for children with disabilities, Lena understood that this could impact her autistic daughter.

“Any sudden change in routine, loud noises, fear, or uncertainty can increase their anxiety and make them feel unsafe,” Lena told Al Jazeera.

“I can see this in my daughter. Since the situation became more difficult, she has become more anxious and sensitive to the changes happening around her.”

Challenging a social stigma

The symptoms of autism and attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) vary depending on the person and condition, but they frequently include sensory issues and emotional dysregulation. ADHD and autism often occur together, combining to make AuDHD, where traits from both conditions can be seen.

People with these neurodevelopmental conditions are often stigmatised by societies that do not fully understand them, including in Lebanon.

While the pressures caused by Israel’s war on Lebanon and mass displacement have led to psychological issues for many, neurodivergent people are more vulnerable due to their need for consistent support and routine.

“Being a parent of an autistic child isn’t something every parent can handle. A challenge I often face is deciding the amount of time and energy I should allocate to my child,” said Lena.

Lebanon’s Autism Awareness Association (AAA) has provided support for both mother and child. Vana has attended classes at AAA, a nonprofit based in Antelias, outside Beirut, for the past six years, which serves as an alternative school for young autistic people.

But rising costs in Lebanon during the war have prevented Vana from attending classes regularly. “Even transportation to her centre became very difficult, especially with the increasing financial challenges. At times, it became impossible for her to go, so she had to stay home,” Lena said.

Ghada Hayek Makhoul, who co-founded AAA with other parents of autistic children in 2015, said the group has made constant efforts to increase awareness about the condition in Lebanon.

“Many people don’t know what autism really is. They don’t know the spectrum; how it can vary from mild to moderate to severe,” Ghada told Al Jazeera.

Sensory overload

Ghada’s son, Anthony, is a calm 27-year-old autistic, non-verbal man who relies heavily on helpers. Although he is unable to speak, his mother said it is clear when he is distressed, putting his hands over his ears when he is in pain due to sensory discomfort.

Autistic people can be more sensitive to noises than neurotypical people. During the war, people in Lebanon have been subjected to a harrowing range of sounds, from Israeli bombs exploding on the ground to the sonic booms of warplanes flying overhead.

“So, imagine the drones all the time [for autistic people], the bombs, and the vibration of the bombs … all of this that we were hearing, so of course it affected him a lot,” Ghada said.

“My son can’t listen to the TV any more due to the news. He switches it off and removes the remote control. It’s too triggering for him.”

Anthony’s mother said he senses tension and anxiety, even if his understanding of what is being said or happening is limited.

“[It affects] all the senses, everything. He doesn’t want to go into a pool any more. He used to love the water. And now, he doesn’t want to go into the pool any more,” Ghada said.

“I don’t know what changed. Because it’s outside? Because of the sound? I don’t know.”

Mental health support as a luxury

Israel’s war on Lebanon has had a direct economic impact on the AAA and other organisations providing neurodivergent or psychological support.

Lebanon’s economic crisis, with inflation potentially reaching 17 percent this year, has also led to a brain drain of professionals who could support neurodivergent people.

AAA is a crucial support base for families with autistic children. But it comes at a significant cost of $700 per month for children attending five days a week. With 80 percent of the population living in poverty, few can afford such services.

“We need more trained staff, and we also need to keep the staff that are leaving the country. So, we need to have better salaries, but we cannot afford it, because we will have to increase the load on the parents,” said Ghada. “Things are in crisis mode for everybody during the war.”

The same thing is being seen with other mental health services. While many nongovernmental organisations (NGOs) provide free therapy, private consultations can cost more than $100 for a single 50-minute session.

Nour Toukan, a public health researcher at Enmaeya, a media platform focused on sustainable development, told Al Jazeera that care for people with autism or even for ADHD is “very much an out-of-pocket expense.”

While the government did launch a National Disability Allowance in 2023, with funding from the European Union and the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF), the allowance of $40 per month is not enough to cover even the basics in Lebanon. People with autism can get a personal disability card, issued by the Ministry of Social Affairs, making them eligible for support, but those with ADHD cannot.

Lebanon’s National Mental Health Programme, established in 2014 by the Ministry of Public Health, is trying to bridge gaps in support caused by economic and geographic variables.

Dr Rabih El Chammay, the founder and director of the programme, told Al Jazeera a national mental health strategy for children and teenagers is being finalised.

“National studies addressing autism and ADHD have also been conducted, providing evidence to inform this work. We are meeting with several organisations, particularly organisations representing families of persons with autism, to understand priorities and build momentum for further coordinated action,” Dr Rabih said. “War makes this work more difficult because it can increase support needs while disrupting the services people depend on.”

Developmental regression

Displaced people have been the most impacted, but all of those in Lebanon whose schooling and routines have been disrupted are affected.

Adham Faraj, a 23-year-old psychology student at the Lebanese American University in Beirut, who was diagnosed with ADHD in 2024, said that when his classes moved online due to the war, he found himself staying at home more and more.

“It’s less engaging, especially if you struggle with attention. You’re less motivated to go out, so you just attend classes from bed,” Adham said.

Adham said the intensity of Israeli air strikes in Lebanon unsettled him, along with concerns about the rising price of medicine.

“There’s always a cheaper alternative, but it depends on people’s social class. Maybe an $11 box of medication is affordable for some, but not for everyone,” he said.

Rim Ajjour, a psychologist and psychotherapist in Beirut, whose work focuses on young people with autism, has seen that many of the skills neurodivergent people learned before the war are now being lost.

“With the limited resources available in Lebanon and the shift in people’s priorities, there has been more limited access to therapy,” she said.

Rim said that her clinic and others are doing their utmost to keep therapy accessible by freezing consultation fees, even when their own expenses are increasing.

With Israeli attacks continuing in southern Lebanon, which remains occupied by Israeli forces, in violation of a US-brokered June ceasefire, many fear the impact on their work in case of a return to full-scale war.

“I don’t know how we’ll be able to take it again,” Rim said.

In the summer of 1957, Walt Disney spotted a monorail in Europe and decided he’d like to have one of his own. Design and construction began in 1958, and the following year, Disneyland had a monorail.

The LAX SkyLink people mover was approved by the L.A. City Council in 2018 and construction began in 2019, with a targeted completion date of 2023. In the latest news of yet another delay, the hoped-for startup has been pushed into next year.

Almost eight years, and the train has not left the station.

It’s the little engine that can’t.

The people mover that doesn’t.

There’s been finger-pointing, litigation and a grand jury probe into how a $1.9-billion choo-choo has become a $3.3-billion boondoggle.

Maybe they should have hired Disney.

“Tell me about it,” said Los Angeles City Councilmember Monica Rodriguez, who noted that Disney imagineer Bob Gurr, who helped design the monorail and other iconic Disneyland attractions, lives in her district.

I’m waiting to hear back from Gurr, who’s in his mid-90s, to see if he’s available to work a little magic and help get the people mover moving.

“I’m down with that,” Rodriguez said. “And we get an E Ticket ride.”

To fully appreciate the madness, a bit of historical context is helpful.

Given the region’s legendary traffic, a well-designed transit system has always made sense in Southern California, and billions of dollars have been invested, with quite a bit to show for voter-approved sales tax increases with Measures R and M and boatloads of federal dollars.

But the ride has been bumpy.

In the 1990s, the Green Line, as it was then known, was supposed to go to the airport.

It stopped two miles short.

The rail line known as the purple, or the D, was sometimes referred to as the Subway to the Sea.

But even if its next phase is ever completed, it would stop about 3.5 miles short of the beach. (You can, however, take the E Line to downtown Santa Monica.)

Meanwhile, as The Times’ Colleen Shalby just reported, construction is beginning this week on the Van Nuys-Pacoima light rail line.

Only five years behind schedule.

And the cost has gone from $1.3 billion originally to almost $4 billion.

Are you catching on to a pattern here?

And these are not rocket launches we’re talking about. A light rail line. A people mover.

We’re in California, which has a Silicon Valley and Silicon Beach and a few remnants of the aerospace industry, but we can’t get Joe Blow from the Hertz rental lot to an airport terminal in less than eight years?

Meanwhile, the Vision Zero plan introduced 11 years ago by then-Mayor Eric Garcetti, with a goal of eliminating traffic deaths with roadway design and safety improvements, has fallen far short. As Damian Kevitt of Streets Are for Everyone told Shalby, for three years running, L.A. has had more traffic fatalities than homicides.

“The rest of the world has seen a decrease in traffic deaths,” Kevitt told me. “There are ways to do this, and we run into roadblocks. … It’s lack of leadership … at every level. … To me, the people mover is almost an indicator of systemic issues across the city.”

L.A. Mayor Karen Bass is the chair of Metro and appoints airport commissioners. So unsurprisingly, Councilmember Nithya Raman, her challenger in the mayoral campaign, is going after her on the people mover debacle and other transportation shortcomings.

Bass says the LAX project began before she took office, and regarding disputes that led to delays, “we pushed for a settlement so there would be a firm finish line.”

That’s weak.

There’s never been a firm finish line.

It’s like every other major public project in L.A. and beyond. They come with no firm starting time and no firm completion date, and the only two guarantees are that the tab will keep growing, and when the job finally is complete, public officials will take bows at the ribbon cutting.

So what happened in the case of the people mover?

The grand jury report goes into great detail about an arrangement in which L.A. World Airports awarded designing, building and operating authority to a private contracting consortium called LINXS, for LAX Integrated Express Solution.

Are you comfortable with that? Can you understand why anyone would be, other than the contractors?

The grand jury found no criminal activity on anyone’s part, but you’ll be shocked to know there was a considerable amount of eyebrow-raising behavior. The contractor has sued the city, blaming it for delays, but the grand jury suggested it was the contractor who caused the delays, essentially holding out for payment of $550 million in settlement claims.

It’s as if city officials, who missed out on having the project done in time for the World Cup matches, were easy marks, desperate to make sure the trains are running at least by the 2028 Olympics.

We could have flying taxis by then, but no airport locomotive. This would not be a good look.

Rodriguez, who initially voted no on the upcoming convention center expansion project, said she was explicit about one concern she had regarding that public-private partnership.

“Whatever contract language was in the people mover contract, make sure it’s not in the convention center project,” she said.

“This is an embarrassment, by all means,” said James Moore, emeritus engineering professor at USC.

Although the people mover — which would finally make it possible for rail passengers to connect to LAX — is only 2.25 miles long, it’s a sophisticated feat of engineering. But, as Moore noted, countless airports around the world have figured out how to get the job done.

“Should it have taken this long? No,” Moore said. But “when anything goes right in Los Angeles, that’s when I’m surprised.”

Paging Bob Gurr, Disney designer extraordinaire.

We need your help, Bob, and you can name your price.

Money appears to be no object.

steve.lopez@latimes.com

While growing up in Palo Alto, it was not uncommon for animator Lisa Hanawalt to pretend she was a horse. This game of make-believe was a way for Hanawalt to escape her “burdensome and awkward” body, as she writes in her candid new illustrated memoir, “I Can’t Stop Thinking About Horses And Sex.” “But when I was a horse, I was powerful, graceful, and gorgeous.”

Although Hanawalt might be an unapologetic horse girl, she really hates a horse pun. So when it came time to choose a title for the book, she decided to keep it literal. “This is just the most true version of what this book actually is,” Hanawalt says about the utterly confessional nature of her book’s title, which groups two seemingly unrelated subjects that her mind wanders to when she’s bored. “They’re the two most mentally engaging things I can imagine,” she writes as a self-described “anixous lil freak.”

“I Can’t Stop Thinking About Horses and Sex” by Lisa Hanawalt

(Drawn & Quarterly)

Sitting in her Los Angeles home, the designer of such adult animated touchstones as Netflix’s “BoJack Horseman,” “Long Story Short,” and her personal creation “Tuca & Bertie” is drinking from a mug of tea as we chat over Zoom. When I ask what people’s responses have been so far to her book’s cheeky title, she says, “They just laugh. A lot of them are just like, ‘Well, I have to read that.’”

In many ways, “I Can’t Stop” represents a culmination of Hanawalt’s shtick for truth-telling via colorful anthropomorphized characters. The 43-year-old’s sketches are famously loose, bright and unrefined. Topics like weird body stuff, sex and horniness are never off the table. A typical drawing might feature an animal-human hybrid (say, a bird head on a human body) doing something utterly mundane while Hanawalt’s inner monologue appears in thought bubbles to reveal an intensely personal thought most people would never say out loud, let alone publish in a book.

“They all have personal things in them, some more overtly than others,” Hanawalt says about her particular oeuvre, which includes 2013’s “My Dirty Dumb Eyes,” 2016’s “Hot Dog Taste Test,” 2018’s “Coyote Doggirl” and 2020’s archival collection “I Want You,” as well as countless contributions over the years to publications like the New York Times, McSweeney’s, Vanity Fair and the now-defunct women’s humor blog the Hairpin.

“I think [‘I Can’t Stop Thinking About Horses and Sex’] fits in with ‘My Dirty Dumb Eyes’ and ‘Hot Dog Taste Test’ in that it’s another kind of mishmash book, and it all goes together in my mind,” Hanawalt adds of her nonlinear storytelling, which in this book intersperses memories of couples therapy and egg-freezing with drawings of a sloth dancing with a bear. Or a deep dive on the filmography of Kevin Costner.

Hanawalt has never shied away from getting personal, but there’s no question that “I Can’t Stop” takes her disarming and revelatory style to a new level. “I think it just needed that extra layer of me going through a midlife crisis and breaking up with my partner and going through all this weird stuff. It’s a weird combo with the horse stuff because my love of horses is so pure.”

An illustration from “I Can’t Stop Thinking About Horses and Sex” by Lisa Hanawalt.

(Drawn & Quarterly)

If Hanawalt ever felt embarrassment at being a horse girl (and she certainly has — as she got older, Hanawalt eased off of the horse games out of fear of being bullied), that shame has since evaporated. About eight years ago, as she faced a combination of career burnout and gut-health issues, Hanawalt started taking riding lessons in an attempt at self-care. “There’s something about riding that clears my head and eases my physical pain, for a moment,” she writes in a comic titled “How I Got a Horse.” When her then-partner (comedian and podcaster Adam Conover) noted how relaxed Hanawalt seemed when she’d return home from riding, he urged her to consider buying a horse of her own.

So Hanawalt reactivated her dormant Facebook account and began scrolling through local horse sale groups. That’s where she discovered Juniper (“Juni” for short), a 2006 Norwegian Fjord Mare. “I bought her somewhat impulsively,” Hanawalt says. “It was a huge lifestyle shift. Having a horse is often very stressful because it’s like a pet you have to rent an apartment for. It’s expensive, and they injure themselves … But then, being with her, I’m present in a way that I never am in the rest of my life. It just feels nice to care for another creature, human or animal.”

Spending time with Juni and a cast of new friends at the stables was physically and emotionally therapeutic for Hanawalt, particularly as new issues began to sneak up on her. For instance, she began to wonder if she still wanted to remain child-free. Simultaneously, her long-term relationship of 14 years was beginning to come apart. She describes in the book how she and Conover made a Hail Mary attempt at ethical nonmonogamy — an experience she’s glad to have had, even if Hanawalt jokes today about how she’s “a true polyamory fail.” She adds, “I don’t think it’s for me at all, and I never did. But I was willing to give it a go [as a] last-ditch effort to save something I really cared about. I think that’s the case for a lot of people.”

An illustration from “I Can’t Stop Thinking About Horses and Sex” by Lisa Hanawalt.

(Drawn & Quarterly)

Hanawalt admits how anxious she was to talk about her breakup in the book — so much so that she considered avoiding it altogether. “I was dancing around it, and then I was like, ‘I don’t need to explain every little part of it,’” she says. Hanawalt even solicited creative feedback from Conover, who responded by playing her bits of a new stand-up special, which showcased his perspective of their breakup (that special will be the forthcoming “Big Divorce Energy,” out Oct. 23 on YouTube).

“It’s really nice that we still have that kind of relationship,” Hanawalt says of her ongoing connection and friendship with Conover. “Because I really value his opinion and input. He’s just a really smart, creative person, and that was always a strong point in our relationship. I also just wanted him to be OK with how I was representing us. I’m still very protective of that.”

The latter half of “I Can’t Stop” finds Hanawalt processing the end of her relationship, dipping a toe back into the dating world, and exploring fertility options such as egg-freezing. Despite its heavy subject matter — one especially tough passage looks back at a sexual assault Hanawalt experienced when she was an adolescent — “I Can’t Stop” is packed with absurdist doodles that keep the mood light without seeming dismissive. For example, as she describes how Juni behaves when she’s in heat, Hanawalt considers her own overwhelming “livestock mode,” which once included a hyper-fixation on Kevin Costner. This is all laid out in a section titled “Costner Watch,” where Hanawalt decides to consume every film the actor ever made.

Artist and author Lisa Hanawalt with her beloved horse Juniper.

(Annie Noelker / For The Times)

“Yeah, I was losing my mind,” Hanawalt laughs at “Costner Watch.” “I don’t know. It was a cope, in hindsight.”

As she prepares to celebrate the release of “I Can’t Stop” with a six-date book tour, Hanawalt can’t say for sure if she’s answered any existential midlife questions. She jokes that her eggs are “still on ice.” She’s working on several new animation projects, though isn’t sure at this point which, if any, will move forward. (It probably also doesn’t help that the animation industry is currently experiencing a severe downturn, with record-high unemployment among even the most seasoned creators. “It’s a weird time,” she says.) To round things out, Hanawalt says she’s “selling hats” and even working with a perfume maker to eventually release a “horsey-themed” fragrance.

Hanawalt also has no clue what being a self-proclaimed horse girl even means in the year 2026. The other horse people she hangs out with at the barn, where Juni lives, come from “every possible income level and political belief, and they’re all kind of shoved together,” Hanawalt tells me. “It’s kind of like ‘Lord of the Flies.’

“It’s just so fun to have a community with people and be able to trust them,” Hanawalt says of the friendships she’s made through caring for Juni. “We help each other. Just to be able to go out on the trail and talk about blow jobs or whatever with women I truly connect to … They’re some of the coolest people I’ve ever met in my whole life.”

All that is to say, Hanawalt has grown more comfortable in not quite knowing what’s next. “You’re never fully happy or fulfilled,” she says. “And that’s part of being alive.”

Catch Lisa Hanawalt live Oct. 22 at 7 p.m. at Skylight Books in conversation with Priyanka Mattoo. 1818 N. Vermont Ave., Los Angeles.

Brodsky is an L.A. culture and music writer. Her biography of Stevie Nicks, “Lessons & Lace,” published by Penguin Random House, is out now.

This runoff election for an open seat features two veteran attorneys with extensive experience as public defenders: Justin Allen Clayton and Anna Slotky Reitano.

Clayton is in charge of the Inglewood branch of the public defenders office and has defended three cases with life sentences.

Reitano represented juvenile and adult clients, many of them accused of felonies, before joining the county counsel’s office.

The Los Angeles County Bar Assn. considers both qualified to serve. Here’s more of what you need to know about the candidates.

Justin Allen Clayton, L.A. County deputy public defender

Bar rating: Qualified

Clayton is a Los Angeles native who attended public schools, earned a bachelor’s degree in criminology and passed the bar in 2012. He joined the public defender’s office two years later and since 2023 has served as deputy in charge of the Inglewood branch.

Clayton describes himself as a “working supervisor” who conducts arraignments and represents clients at preliminary and other hearings. He has completed dozens of trials, including three with life sentences, according to his website.

The position involves overseeing and training attorneys, as well as law clerks and summer interns, on misdemeanor and felony case preparation and trial strategy.

Clayton said a priority is improving court efficiency through pretrial preparation and “firm but fair enforcement of deadlines.”

Time as a candidate, he said, has shown him the importance of effective communication within the court system in bridging language and cultural differences. He called that a guiding principle, particularly for clients who lack counsel.

“Sometimes, one additional question, or one additional statement, can make all the difference in resolving an issue,” he said.

Clayton said running a public defender branch office, which brings him in contact with judges, sheriffs, court clerks, interpreters and others, combined with 14 years as a trial attorney, gives him a “comprehensive understanding” of the courtroom.

“That combination of courtroom experience, leadership and daily interaction with the many people who make our justice system work has uniquely prepared me to serve as a Superior Court judge,” he said.

Anna Slotky Reitano, L.A. County deputy county counsel

Bar rating: Qualified

Reitano spent the early part of her career in criminal defense, contract law and other sectors. In 2014, she joined the L.A. County public defender’s office. A decade there included three years in juvenile court, where she primarily handled felony cases, and five years at the San Fernando Courthouse, where she represented indigent clients facing felony charges.

Reitano focused on mental health diversion and treatment, aiming to support rehabilitation when possible. Having a brother with schizophrenia and witnessing how families navigate the legal system when dealing with mental illness has informed her approach.

“This has given me a deeper understanding of both the challenges individuals and families face and the ways in which the system can fall short in addressing those needs,” she said.

This is not her first bid for office. She lost a campaign for a judgeship in 2022 and two years later assumed her position in the county counsel’s justice and safety division, where she supervises litigation and advises county departments.

Reitano, a former child actor, volunteers with local schools and, according to her website, mentors “future lawyers” through moot court competitions.

Campaigning, Reitano said, has shown her that constituents, no matter how different, uniformly want “a judge who is experienced, prepared, fair and willing to listen.”

“My experience across criminal, juvenile, civil, administrative and government law has uniquely prepared me to serve wherever the court needs me,” she said.

This race for an open seat pits a former U.S. assistant attorney who represented President Obama, the FBI and NASA against a seasoned Los Angeles County public defender who has taken more than 100 trials, some with three-strikes implications, to verdict.

David DeJute, who defended Obama against the so-called birther claims, spent a decade as vice president of litigation at Sony Pictures Entertainment. He now works in litigation at a private firm.

Anthony “A.J.” Bayne’s background includes nearly two decades serving in the Compton Courthouse, where he for a time served as deputy in charge. He’s now handling serious felony cases at the Torrance branch.

DeJute is rated “qualified” to serve by the Los Angeles County Bar Assn. Bayne is rated a notch higher, “well qualified.”

Here’s what you need to know about the candidates.

Anthony “A.J.” Bayne, L.A. County deputy public defender

Bar rating: Well qualified

Bayne’s 31-year legal career includes more than a quarter-century as an L.A. County deputy public defender. He has taken more than 100 jury trials to verdict, including murder, special circumstances and three-strikes cases, some of which carried sentences of death or life in prison.

“Even during the [election] primary period, I continued taking cases to trial rather than continuing them, because my clients should not be prejudiced by unnecessary delay,” he said.

He spent 19 years at the Compton Courthouse, where for a time he served as deputy in charge, supervising misdemeanor trial deputies. He now is stationed in the Torrance branch, where he handles serious felonies.

Bayne is an inventor, with patent-pending applications for artificial intelligence tools that automate legal workflows. One helps with closing arguments; another uses court reporter transcripts to generate cross-examination questions.

Using AI to address the county’s heavy caseload is a priority. He argues the technology could modernize court infrastructure, aiding in case management, scheduling and document processing.

Bayne, who trains in jiujitsu and Krav Maga self-defense, said extensive jury trial experience has prepared him to be an effective judge.

“Wherever I go, people want the same things: a judge who is prepared and fair, who will listen to their side of the case, and who treats them with respect,” he said.

David DeJute, law professor/attorney

Bar rating: Qualified

The son of a late judge, DeJute has had a 35-year legal career. After graduating from law school, he clerked for a U.S. district judge and then worked at a boutique litigation firm. He spent nearly a decade as vice president of litigation at Sony Pictures Entertainment.

In 2005, he was appointed as an assistant U.S. attorney. Over more than a decade, he worked on 10 trials, including successfully defending President Obama against “birther” lawsuits that challenged his eligibility to hold office. DeJute represented the FBI and NASA in other cases.

He joined Michelman & Robinson in 2017 and is part of the complex litigation group.

An adjunct professor at Pepperdine’s Caruso School of Law, he’s taught ethics, antitrust, copyright and patent law. After last year’s wildfires, he returned as director of the disaster relief clinic, where he instructed students who provided pro bono legal services to victims of the Palisades and Eaton fires.

“I continue to provide free legal help to wildfire survivors who have asked me to stay involved,” he said, though he no longer runs the clinic.

DeJute said he has experienced discrimination as an openly gay man, which drives his desire to ensure that everyone in the justice system is treated with dignity and respect.

“Justice requires more than achieving certain results,” he said. “It requires a fair process untainted by bias.”

This runoff for a vacant seat on the bench features a longtime public defender running against a veteran alternate public defender. Both boast extensive trial experience.

Donna Tryfman, a deputy public defender, serves in the major cases unit, where she handles homicide and other high-profile defendants. She also has extensive experience in juvenile cases.

David Ross is an alternate in the Torrance branch of the public defenders office and also works in Bellflower and Long Beach. He claims to have represented more than 10,000 clients at hearings and in trials.

The Los Angeles County Bar Assn. rates both attorneys as “qualified” for office. Here’s more of what you need to know about the candidates.

Donna Tryfman, L.A. County deputy public defender

Bar rating: Qualified

Tryfman began with the public defender’s office in 1998, logging more than 100 jury trials. Her experience includes supervising Eastlake Juvenile Court, where she ran a branch with 15 lawyers and represented clients in the collaborative drug court. She is stationed in the major cases unit, focusing on capital homicide litigation.

Tryfman has served as a Superior Court judge pro tem, handling traffic and small claims cases. She has proctored teen courts at Dorsey and Hamilton high schools and last year received the peer-bestowed Gideon felony attorney of the year award.

Conversations on the campaign trail have helped her understand what works and what doesn’t in the justice system.

“It has reinforced for me that experience and knowledge of the law matter enormously, but so does how people are treated when they walk into a courtroom,” she said.

Tryfman said the heavy caseload of a public defender has prepared her for the bench’s rigors. She also cited her life experience as the daughter of immigrants, a single mother and a widow who was faced with the decision of whether to discontinue life support for her husband.

“Experiences like that teach you something about responsibility, compassion and judgment that cannot be learned from a law book,” she said.

Outside the office, Tryfman spent five years as president of the California Public Defenders Assn. and chaired the Rent Stabilization Commission for the city of Beverly Hills. She has served as vice chair of the L.A. County Bar Assn.’s Conference of California Bar Assns., where she helps develop state legislative proposals.

David Ross, L.A. County deputy alternate public defender

Bar rating: Qualified

Ross has more than three decades in the legal field, but it was not his original calling. The Los Angeles native served as a legislative aide to the late U.S. Rep. Floyd Fithian (D-Ind.) on Capitol Hill, then worked as a television journalist and documentary producer in Washington, D.C., Tennessee and Kansas.

“I grew up wanting to be Peter Jennings, not Clarence Darrow,” he told The Times.

Ross passed the bar in 1994, joined the Riverside County public defender’s office the following year and began as a Los Angeles County deputy alternate public defender in 2000. He has litigated 113 jury trials, conducted more than 2,000 preliminary hearings and represented some 10,000 indigent clients. Assigned to the Torrance office since 2018, he also has worked in the Bellflower, Long Beach and Pomona branches, among others.

Ross, who lives in Long Beach, said he has spoken with more than 60 Democratic clubs, unions and other organizations on the campaign trail and frequently has heard a desire for qualified and independent judges who will listen to all sides.

A priority would be ensuring that even if a party loses, they walk out of the courthouse knowing the judge paid attention.

Ross said his mix of legal and life experience and his time as a journalist, in which he “listened to real people, gathered the facts and told objective stories,” provide a unique perspective.

Federal authorities this week teased a “separate batch” of 17,000 potential noncitizen voters in their federal court challenge to California’s handling of alleged voter fraud.

In response, Los Angeles County officials questioned the accuracy of the government’s earlier list of 20,000 alleged noncitizen voters — saying a preliminary review of a subset of those voters found evidence that nearly 40% were born in the U.S.

The claims came in filings shedding new light on the unprecedented Homeland Security inquiry into California’s voter rolls just weeks before the Nov. 3 election.

On Monday, Nicolas Bartell, a Homeland Security official, wrote in a sworn affidavit that — in addition to developing the disputed list of 20,000 “likely noncitizen” voters at the heart of the litigation — his agency has also developed a “separate batch of more than 17,000 voting records potentially tied to noncitizens.”

“Our review is ongoing as USCIS receives records on a rolling basis before the election date,” wrote Bartell, the associate director of the Fraud Detection and National Security Directorate at U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services.

On Tuesday, Monica Flores, a top official in the L.A. County Registrar-Recorder/County Clerk’s office, wrote in an affidavit that staff members had reviewed a sample of 200 registrations from the list of 20,000 voters whom the Justice Department alleged last week were “likely noncitizens.” The office found that more than half — 112 — had been canceled or were inactive, meaning no ballot was sent to those voters.

In instances where those voters’ birthplace was “meaningfully reported, 38.9% indicate that they were born in the United States, which is strong evidence of citizenship,” Flores wrote, while 71.2% showed no record of ever voting.

Flores wrote that similarly vetting the citizenship of thousands of additional voters before the election would not only be “administratively impossible and take key personnel away from their critical election duties,” but would also “risk disenfranchising voters who are validly registered.”

Also Tuesday, Rachel Evans, an attorney in the California secretary of state’s office, wrote in an affidavit that the office since August has received and been complying with grand jury subpoenas for the detailed voter records of about 300 people.

Evans’ acknowledgment came a day after federal prosecutors charged 28 people across California with federal election-related crimes, including fraudulent voter registration and making false statements in a naturalization application, and suggests federal prosecutors are pursuing criminal cases against hundreds more.

Taken together, the filings indicate that the legal battle between the Trump administration and California over alleged fraudulent voting is only just gearing up — with no end in sight before Nov. 3 — as is the political sparring over the issue.

First Assistant U.S. Atty. Bill Essayli, the lead federal prosecutor in Los Angeles, posted to X on Tuesday that Flores’ acknowledgment that her office could not possibly vet voters’ citizenship before the election was a “massive concession,” proving the federal government’s case.

Gov. Gavin Newsom’s office said that “any credible allegation of voter fraud should be taken seriously and investigated,” but that federal officials charging just 28 people in a state with 23 million voters showed they have no evidence of widespread fraud.

“Yes, non-citizen voter registration and voting does happen in isolated instances — in California and the rest of the country alike — but it is so rare that the Trump admin is parading around town about .0001% of California voters,” Newsom’s office wrote on X.

The broader case

On Monday, Justice Department lawyers filed a request for an emergency restraining order requiring state election officials to segregate any ballots from the 20,000 voters flagged on the initial Homeland Security list until their citizenship is proved. They argued the state is violating the law — and harming the federal government — by refusing to do so.

State attorneys argued Tuesday that the federal government has no authority over California elections and seeks to violate federal law precluding voter roll purges in the 90 days before an election.

State officials wrote that the Justice Department appeared to have “individualized evidence” of noncitizenship for the 28 people it had charged, and that nothing was preventing it from working through existing “statutory channels” to block those individuals’ ballots. But they argued that it does not have evidence to back its claims against all 20,000 voters whose ballots it is seeking to sequester.

Those contentions — and Bartell’s claim of a second list of 17,000 potential noncitizen voters — only add to an already heated debate about the scope of the inquiry and its legitimacy.

In July, Homeland Security Secretary Markwayne Mullin alleged in a letter to California Secretary of State Shirley Weber that there “may be as many as 190,832 noncitizens registered to vote in California,” and demanded that the state work with federal authorities to investigate. The state asked that Homeland Security first provide more information, including about its methodology for identifying that figure.

Last week, acting Deputy Atty. Gen. Trent McCotter wrote follow-up letters to Weber and Dean Logan, head of the L.A. County registrar’s office, asserting that 20,000 “likely noncitizens” were on state rolls, and again demanding state cooperation within 48 hours to remove them. Weber balked, arguing that federal law precludes systematic roll purges within 90 days of an election to protect eligible voters.

Weber and other state officials also questioned the drop from 190,000 to 20,000, and the reliability of the federal government’s underlying data and methodology. “What happened to the 170,000? You just got those wrong?” California Atty. Gen. Rob Bonta asked.

On Monday, McCotter said the 190,000 figure was “the ceiling,” inclusive of cases that federal authorities had high, medium and low confidence in, while the 20,000 figure was “the floor,” inclusive of only high confidence cases.

Potential flaws in the list have been a major point of contention among California officials, who have pointed to substantial inaccuracies in lists elsewhere, including in Nevada, where a state review found that the 185 voters whose citizenship was questioned by the Trump administration were all citizens.

Now, it appears the federal government’s disputed list of 20,000 voters won’t be the last in California.

How voters were identified

In court filings, federal officials described purchasing California voter registration information before USCIS and Homeland Security Investigations agents worked to identify any voters who are not citizens. They said that they did so in part by comparing the state data with “third party commercial data” sets and law enforcement data sets, and that they further vetted their list by culling dead people.

Essayli pointed to those descriptions to dispel arguments that federal authorities have not provided their methodology for identifying potential noncitizens on voter rolls. He said that the federal process was robust and trustworthy and that federal authorities had compiled “overwhelming evidence of tens of thousands of ineligible voters on the state’s rolls.”

Independent election experts saw it differently.

“They admitted to using some of the same tools amateur election conspiracy theorists use, like unidentified third party software, commercial lists, and public versions of [the state’s] voter roll,” Gowri Ramachandran, an election administration expert at the Brennan Center for Justice at NYU School of Law. “These amateur data matching efforts don’t get any better merely because the Department of Justice relies on them.”

“If DOJ could prove many more cases, we would have heard about it,” Rick Hasen, director of the Safeguarding Democracy Project at UCLA School of Law, wrote in a blog post. “They’ve been on an aggressive hunt nationally for such fraud. It’s not surprising they’ve found little because it is a small problem.”

WASHINGTON — The Trump administration is deferring an additional $1.2 billion in Medicaid reimbursements to California, citing concerns about potential fraud in a state program that helps older adults and people with disabilities with everyday tasks.

Dr. Mehmet Oz, the administrator for the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, said federal officials took action after they grew concerned about the rapid expansion of California’s personal care services program in recent years. State officials were notified of the decision Tuesday, he said.

“California has been growing that program 24% in the last three years. That is twice the rate of every other state average in the country,” Oz said. “Impossible for us to understand how that could be so we are taking major action in California.”

Oz did not provide any evidence of fraud but suggested the state was paying people too much taxpayer money to help with services that could be offered for free, like “paying somebody to carry groceries upstairs for your mom.”

“Many of you would carry groceries upstairs for your mom for free, but in California, they will pay you a lot of money for it,” he said.

The move is the latest in a series of efforts by the administration to withhold federal money from California. In May, the administration held back $1.3 billion in Medicaid reimbursements to the state over concerns about “fraudsters” in the state’s hospice and in-home care programs. The actions have been part of a broad effort by the administration to rein in fraud in federal healthcare benefits programs, particularly in Democrat-led states.

Gov. Gavin Newsom’s office did not immediately respond to a request for comment. But the office has been critical of the administration’s past efforts.

In May, Newsom’s office called the action to withhold funds for in-home care programs a “sick” and politically motivated attack on services that are meant to “keep seniors and people with disabilities OUT of nursing homes.”

Those services usually cover assistants who help people with daily tasks such as bathing, laundry or cooking. They also provide needed care such as injections under the direction of a medical professional. A 2020 report by the California state auditor found that nearly three-quarters of In-home Supportive Services caregivers assist a family member.

Newsom’s office, however, has argued that the program saves taxpayers money, saying IHSS care costs $30,000 a year, while nursing home care costs $137,000 a year.

California’s hospice industry has had problems in the past and authorities have tried to crack down on the issue. A Times investigation in 2020 found that providers were billing Medicare for hospice services and equipment for patients who were not actually dying while the industry boomed.

The Trump administration, led by Vice President JD Vance, has tried to focus attention on the issue of waste, fraud and abuse as a centerpiece policy platform to bring down healthcare costs.

On Tuesday, Trump and Vance announced a $25-million whistleblower program designed to pay out cash to people who tip off the federal government about fraudsters. The program will offer a 1% commission for tips that lead to a successful conviction. Trump said he would be the sole arbitrator of who gets to keep the money.

“I’ll determine whether or not the person is deserving, and I will be very generous believe me. We are not looking to save on that,” Trump said. “I promise you I will be fair.”

Trump said the money will be handed out “expeditiously and fairly.”

“I promise there is nothing in this for me,” he said.

The White House referred comment about the decision to the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services. The federal agency did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

Come Election Day, a Quaker leader will travel from the nation’s capital to her home state of Ohio. A Christian minister and a Jewish rabbi will stand vigil outside a polling place in Arizona. A Buddhist nun will offer support to voters in Wisconsin.

In battleground states across the country, these faith leaders and hundreds of their colleagues will assume the role of poll chaplains for one day. They will deploy to nine states — Arizona, Michigan, Georgia, Ohio, Pennsylvania, North Carolina, Wisconsin, Virginia and Texas — where contentious races are expected to raise political tensions.

Faiths United in Saving Democracy, a nonpartisan coalition of interfaith and secular partners, is helping to train and certify this volunteer force of clergy members and lay peacekeepers in time for the Nov. 3 elections.

They’ll wear identifying hats and vests, and stay outside the poll centers, with the goal of maintaining a calm, reassuring presence to encourage more voters to exercise their rights without fear or hesitation, said co-founder Barbara Williams-Skinner. As of Oct. 19, they’ve recruited 1,235 poll chaplains and peacekeepers, she said.

A non-partisan effort to take the fear out of voting

While the idea of poll chaplains has been around for several years, Williams-Skinner said “2026 is going to be different” because there is widespread concern that the presence of federal immigration agents could create a chilling effect.

“The fear is real,” she says, worrying that it could deter eligible voters in mixed-immigration-status families and communities of color. Department of Homeland Security officials have consistently said they have no plans to send immigration agents to the polls, although DHS Secretary Markwayne Mullin said they could show up for a specific reason, such as arresting someone if they have a warrant.

The coalition has offered training online and in person. Participants get information about immigrant rights, de-escalation techniques and phone numbers to call in tight situations, Williams-Skinner said.

The initiative, strongly rooted in the Black church, has expanded to include diverse faiths as well as non-religious people, she said.

“This is a movement built by unusual coalitions,” she said. “You have white, Mainline Protestants, Quakers, traditional Baptists, Black church leaders, imams, rabbis — all kinds of people who probably would not work together or haven’t worked together in the past.”

While most participating groups are moderate or progressive, Williams-Skinner says it is a strictly nonpartisan initiative.

“We don’t get hung up on who’s moderate or who’s conservative. People just need to be able to vote, unafraid,” she said.

Concerns about voter intimidation motivate chaplains

A Pew survey following the assassination of conservative activist Charlie Kirk in September 2025 showed 85% of Americans, across political lines, believe political violence is on the rise.

Polling places have been targeted by protesters in past elections. In 2022, members of a group claiming to monitor ballot drop boxes in Arizona were ordered to stay at least 250 feet away after voters complained about intimidation. In 2020, following Election Day, a crowd stormed a vote-counting center in Detroit, many incited by online conspiracy theories about election fraud.

As the mob banged on the center’s doors and windows, the Rev. Steve Bland was among several faith leaders who put their bodies between the building and the crowd. Bland, who leads Detroit’s Liberty Temple Baptist Church, is continuing that work as a poll chaplain.

The pastor says de-escalation often involves “using the right words to calm a situation” or giving intimidated voters the moral support and reassurance that they are safe to exercise their civic right. Bland said he did precisely that for an elderly, Black woman during a prior election.

“She left and came back with two of her grandsons who also voted,” he said. “Without that intervention, three people wouldn’t have voted that day.”

The Rev. Bankole Akinbinu, senior pastor of Baptist Grove Church in Raleigh, North Carolina, said training in conflict resolution and de-escalation has given him the confidence to serve as a poll chaplain. A millennial, he has sought to engage younger people by recruiting peacekeepers from college campuses.

His motivation comes from seeing voter suppression attempts in North Carolina and other states.

“I look at our forefathers and the struggle they had to endure to afford us the privilege of voting,” Akinbinu said. “I look at my children and the nation I want to hand them.”

Steven Huefner, deputy director of the Election Law Program at The Ohio State University, says poll chaplains might be able to calm the frayed nerves of a voting public that is constantly exposed to divisive rhetoric and news about political violence. While political violence has increased, he says, it’s not widespread.

“Election workers are well-trained and can run elections quite well,” he said.

Faith leaders have historically played the role of peacekeepers, said Wendy Cadge, professor of sociology at Bryn Mawr College in Pennsylvania and founder of the think tank Chaplaincy Innovation Lab.

And now chaplaincy — beyond traditional worship spaces — is attracting more clergy.

“People are feeling called to chaplaincy because they want to be with people in difficult times,” Cadge said. “They don’t want to worry about what color the carpet is in the church or if their youth programs are attracting enough people. It’s a different kind of work.”

Chaplains find inspiration in theology

Clergy deploying on Election Day say they are heeding a strong, faith-driven calling to serve as poll chaplains.

In Arizona, Rev. Katie Sexton, executive director of Arizona Faith Network, embraces the initiative as a way to reach across the political divide.

“The ballot box is a place where we’re all seen as equal,” she said, adding that it reflects the Christian belief that all humans are created in the image of God. “There is such power in that.”

On Oct. 6, Sexton and several others participated in a training session — one of the last before the midterms — at Temple Chai, a Reform synagogue in Scottsdale.

Rabbi Emily Segal, who leads the congregation, will be a poll chaplain for the first time next month. The work, she says, aligns with what the Torah and Talmud teach about a healthy and just society.

Throughout American history, interfaith coalitions have created powerful change and served as sources of inspiration, Segal said. “Any time we can come together with faith partners around our shared values for societal good is a real source of holiness for our community.”

Bridget Moix, a Quaker leader, will travel to her native Ohio on Election Day.

“In our faith tradition, we think about voting as a sacred act we want to protect,” she said.

For Reirin Gumbel, resident teacher at the Milwaukee Zen Center, it’ll be a third time, come November.

“As Buddhists, the Metta Sutra we chant says every being has the same rights, and that we should have compassion toward all,” she said.

Imam Mohammed Ali Elahi, spiritual leader of the Islamic House of Wisdom in Dearborn Heights, Michigan, is considering becoming a poll chaplain for the first time. In a highly contentious campaign in Elahi’s state, Abdul El-Sayed is the first Muslim Democratic candidate to run for a U.S. Senate seat.

The imam said he is tired of anti-Muslim vitriol that has surfaced ahead of the midterms.

“As interfaith clergy, we stand for principles not personalities,” he said. “The Quran tells us to stand for what’s right — truth, justice, peace, human rights and the dignity of human beings, whoever they may be.”

Bharath writes for the Associated Press.

WASHINGTON — President Trump is hoping that $5,000 checks can juice Republican turnout in November’s midterm elections — but even some of his devoted fans are doubting that government payouts would arrive.

“I mean, I guess it’s good for some people. I really don’t care,” said Jamie Alvarez, who attended Trump’s recent Alaska rally in a red, white and blue outfit. “I don’t feel like your vote should be bought. I feel like you should vote for who you feel is going to do the best job.”

Joseph Eatherton was attending that same rally and said he was “not sure if it’s necessary.” When asked whether Trump could deliver on the promised money, he said, “I don’t know, and I hate being an armchair quarterback.”

The offering of government checks has become a go-to tactic for Trump when he faces a political jam. He’s previously endorsed $2,000 in dividends from tariff revenues and large refunds from spending cuts achieved by the Department of Government Efficiency, neither of which materialized. The latest example could reveal how much voters still trust Trump as they decide control of Congress in the midterm elections on Nov. 3.

Staunch supporters such as Lucy Martinez, the president of a Republican women’s club who attended a recent Trump rally in Texas, said there’s no doubt in their minds.

“I think that I will get the $5,000,” she said. Out of all the presidents, Trump is someone “who kept his promises to his people and all the United States.”

Trump has dished out payments as elections approach

However, many voters are already embittered by his economic leadership. His critics see a president who failed to tame inflation and keep America out of overseas conflicts, and whose agenda has fueled higher prices as the war with Iran appears to be at a stalemate.

“The trust on this is already gone for most people,” said Amy Frederiksen, a former Republican Minnesota Senate majority leader who now runs a public affairs firm.

“I just don’t see the energy around that line,” she added. “Most people know that’s a blatant over-the-top promise like several he’s made in the last couple of years, and they’re not buying it.”

As the midterms approach, Trump has also pledged a $90 payment to 20 million Medicare enrollees and $500 “rebates” for people the administration says were overcharged for their Obamacare plans. He has automatically enrolled every U.S. child in “Trump accounts” to invest in stocks.

The $5,000 payouts would only occur, Trump says, if Republicans keep their majorities in the House and Senate. Trump acknowledges that the cost would exceed $1 trillion, but it’s not clear that the White House is seriously engaging with the proposal’s ramifications, from the increased deficit to the likely boost to inflation.

The White House said the payments are possible because of Trump’s trade deals, investment commitments by foreign countries, government stakes in private companies and deals for oil and minerals.

The administration’s position is that the payments will help people recover from the inflation that began in 2021 under then-President Joe Biden, though Republicans, at the time, attributed that inflation to excessive government checks tied to pandemic relief.

When The Associated Press asked several weeks ago if the administration was modeling the economic impact from the checks, Christopher Phelan, chairman of the White House Council of Economic Advisers, said he would “refrain” from answering.

Roughly half of registered voters say Donald Trump does not keep his promises to Americans, according to an AP-NORC poll from September. About 3 in 10 say Trump tries to keep his promises but is unable to, while only about 2 in 10 say he keeps his promises.

Republican voters are more accommodating. About half say Trump tries to keep his promises but is unable to, and about 4 in 10 say he keeps his promises.

Republican candidates aren’t echoing Trump’s promise

Trump is talking about the payments as a sure thing.

“If the Republicans win, you’ll each have $5,000 in your pocket and economic success for our country like we have never seen before,” he said at a Saturday rally in Kentucky. “And remember, ’cause they like to say, ‘Oh, well, maybe he won’t do that.’ Uh, I always do it.”

Campaign spending tracked by AdImpact suggests that Republicans are not running advertisements either on television or online about the promise. The few advertisements that do exist are from pro-Democratic groups such as Rolling Sea Action Fund that conclude with the voiceover, “Come on, do you really think he’s sending you a check? Yeah, right, we won’t get fooled again.”

At a Friday rally in Georgia, Trump noted that he had previously delivered a $1,776 “Trump dividend” to troops in the military. But those payments came from a congressionally approved housing supplement.

Trump claims the nation could not afford the payments if Democrats hold a chamber in Congress because the nation would be “flat broke.” But he said that one caveat is that the money could only be spent in the U.S., rather than in China, Japan or France. He joked that people should spend the check at his luxury club in Palm Beach, Florida.

“Let’s have lunch at Mar-a-Lago, where for $5,000, you’ll get one hamburger and a small dessert,” he told the crowd in Georgia.

Some in the crowd took Trump at his word that he would fight to get them the money. But they added the caveat that if he didn’t come through, it would not be his fault.

“I could use $5,000,” said Mike Boatman, a 58-year-old from Evansville, Indiana, who travels the country attending the president’s rallies. “I mean, he’s done everything he’s said he’s going to do.”

Boak, Bohrer and Barrow write for the Associated Press. Bohrer reported from Wasilla, Alaska, and Barrow reported from Dalton, Georgia. AP reporters Aaron Kessler and Linley Sanders in Washington and Lekan Oyekanmi in San Antonio, Texas, contributed to this report.

In what may be one of the most comical self-owns in recent politics, the esteemed attorneys of the U.S. Department of Justice announced Monday that despite the extravagant and terrifying misuse of their investigative power under the Trump administration, they have so far been able to identify only 28 people in all of California who may have voted illegally.

“The announcement today by the United States DOJ makes the point that there is no widespread voter fraud,” California Atty. Gen. Rob Bonta said after the news conference announcing the results of “Operation Protect the Vote.”

Twenty-eight people out of about 23 million registered voters in the state — and not all of them even tried to vote, according to the feds. That’s about 1 in 820,000 folks allegedly registering or voting illegally, a rate that roughly matches how often people in the United States get struck by lightning in a given year.

So much for Trump’s endless claims that there is a vast, organized conspiracy between Democrats and undocumented people to have them vote in large numbers to steal elections. I’ll point out here that none of those charged Monday have been accused of colluding with one another or with Democratic overlords.

All the power of the government — investigative, technological, legal — has been thrown at finding these mysterious, diabolically clever ballot baddies. And now, thanks to Bill Essayli, first assistant U.S. attorney for the Central District of California, and his colleagues across this great state, we now know that all 28 of them will be held accountable, if the government can prove wrongdoing. And let’s be clear — people who vote illegally should be held accountable.

But wait, there’s more, because this election-stealing plot by immigrants certainly doesn’t stop at the state line. Seamus Hughes of Court Watch, an excellent site that tracks federal litigation, reported Monday that since the start of this administration, 169 people have been charged federally with illegally registering or voting.

That number includes the new California cases, so it means an additional 141 potentially illegal voters have been charged across the U.S. — all told about 1 in 1.25 million registered voters being accused of illegally registering or voting, making this crime slightly less likely than guessing a six-digit pin code on the first try.

There. Is. No. Election. Stealing.

But that’s where the funny part ends, because this attack on California elections is serious and just getting started.

The federal government, you’ve probably read, is suing California, claiming it gave the state a janky thumb drive with 20,000 names of registered voters that it sort of strongly suspects maybe aren’t legal voters. Important note here: The government has been very careful not to claim that these people voted illegally, just that it might be so based on questionable data, which I’ll get to in a minute.

The feds gave the state a silly 48-hour deadline to agree to change constitutional law, dump common sense and sequester these 20,000 ballots, if they were even returned, to double-check they were cast by valid voters.

When California rightfully refused — because elections are run by states, not the federal government — the federal government sued on the thinnest of legal grounds. It basically claimed that voting illegally is illegal, and if California doesn’t do exactly what Trump wants, it could be violating the Supremacy Clause of the Constitution by impeding the feds from enforcing the crime of voter fraud.

First Assistant U.S. Atty. Bill Essayli speaks at a news conference Monday at which officials announced that 28 people in California had been charged with voter fraud.

(David Butow / For The Times)

Which is basically arguing that if the state government fails to stop voter fraud using the flawed methods Trump likes, then the state is somehow stopping federal authorities from prosecuting voter fraud themselves. But didn’t they just enforce it with 28 cases?

Get ready, because “state-facilitated voter fraud,” is a new right-wing thing.

California is “being complicit in non-citizens voting in our elections, and as they were warned last week, not only is it a civil violation, but they could also face criminal consequences,” Essayli said, which if it happened would give Trumped-up charges a whole new meaning.

Essayli said state officials are not being “good faith actors,” but I’ll argue that shoe is on the other foot. The list of 20,000 alleged, suspected, maybe-maybe-not illegal voters was likely drawn from the Systematic Alien Verification for Entitlements (SAVE) program, created by Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency, if you can remember that unfortunate relic.

It sought to draw data from more than a dozen government databases that were not only not compatible with such information sharing, but which had been kept separate until now for privacy reasons. Americans in general did not want the government collecting unified, know-all records of every citizen.

Luckily for us, I guess, the SAVE system can’t actually create reliable, unified records. It confuses people, convolutes them, merges records of people with similar names, and in general has been deemed unreliable by data experts.

In September, the good folks at the UCLA Voting Rights Project joined with the Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights to sue the federal government over its use of that system to target naturalized citizens for removal from voter rolls. Turns out, the government appears to be targeting immigrants who are now citizens with these voter fraud accusations.

As I wrote about a few weeks ago, naturalized citizens make up about 1 in 10 eligible voters, and nearly a quarter of them live in California. But they also live in swing states such as Michigan, where Democrat Abdul El-Sayed may draw such voters, and in other places such as Georgia and Nevada where races might be decided by only a few votes.

These arrests and lawsuits while voting is already underway in the midterms are a not-subtle form of voter suppression. Imagine being a naturalized citizen in the Central Valley, where ICE is driving rampant fear and where Republican Rep. David Valadao is running against Democrat Randy Villegas in California’s 22nd Congressional District — one of the nation’s most closely contested races.

Would you consider sitting this election out just in case your ballot draws the frightening eye of the federal government? Even knowing that your vote is legal, what if you lived in a mixed-status household? Would it be worth risking voting if it meant a knock at the door from immigration checking on your status, and maybe finding that family member who lacks it?

Why take the risk?

“Basically, what they’re doing now is just completely harassing and intimidating naturalized citizens who are legally eligible to vote through these actions,” said Matt Barreto, co-founder of the Voting Rights Project.

And if the vote isn’t suppressed enough to give Trump the results he wants, these prosecutions and lawsuits feed the beast of conspiracy, giving Trump fodder to claim the results are fake, the election stolen.

And round and round we go, reckoning with Trump’s claims that lightning is striking everyone, everywhere, all at once, because the vote didn’t go his way.

Genres Book Society, a new bookshop coming to L.A., is hiding a few secrets. The first indication that something a bit fantastical is going on here is the fact that the boutique store has a mascot.

Look up upon entering the space, and you’ll meet Lore. Lore is a dragon, and this dragon is made of books. The striking sculpture will hover over a cozy space with modular bookshelves that are arranged on a floor covered in book quotes. Peer closely and you’ll see the quotes are designed in the shape of a tree.

A story is being built, a narrative that signifies that Genres aims to be not just a bookshop, but a place that feels like a real-life fairy tale. For this bookstore is also concealing a speakeasy of sorts, a secluded cafe and bar with multiple themed spaces and a two-story tree with glowing books growing out of its branches.

Stories, Genres is telling us, are life.

“This is for people who want to enter into story worlds,” says Ann Morrow Johnson of design firm Gensler. Johnson, a former creative with Walt Disney Imagineering, leads Gensler’s entertainment and experiences division, which is designing the bookshop.

She wants guests to feel transported into a fantasy universe, and understands how to make that happen. For instance? “Adding just a little bit of theatricality and sparkle helps create an invitation of suspension of disbelief,” she says.

The centerpiece of Genre’s bookstore, shown in an artist’s rendering, will be a dragon named Lore.

(Gensler)

Genres, on track to open in mid-2027 near the intersection of Melrose and Fairfax avenues, is tapping into a local trend of heavily designed thematic spaces with a penchant for fantasy. Think, for instance, of the Witch’s Cottage in North Hollywood, or the Last Canteen in the shadow of Universal Studios Hollywood. Consider it the latest evolution of the themed restaurant, and a way to bring the heavily theatrical worlds of theme parks closer to home. Johnson, for instance, says the firm’s research with the the Immersive Experience Institute has shown a hunger in younger generations to embrace spaces such as the Rainforest Cafe.

“People are seeking out a moment,” Johnson says. “Those more theatrical, highly scenic spaces are more likely to get you off your phone. Little moments of delight center you.”

Genres was dreamed up Clare Grant and Karissa Marston, who brought the project to Gensler and tapped them to lead its design. Grant, an actor/producer, says the idea came to her while experiencing the regret of missing a retreat hosted by her girlfriends, who had rented a cabin to read the latest edition in the fantasy “Crescent City” series.

“Just having a newborn, I was like, ‘Why can’t I go read this book in a fantasy-themed cabin?’ That’s literally my dream,” Grant says. “Then I started thinking about it. Why don’t I have something like this in Los Angeles, where I can pop in for an afternoon or evening where someone is handing me drinks and food in an immersive space?”

Marston, it turns out, who has experience in hospitality and marketing with an emphasis on fandom, was already dreaming of such a space. The two of them crafted a business plan for a bookstore, one that wouldn’t look out of place in a sword and sorcery fantasy novel, with a hidden speakeasy.

“I was in Paris, and I went to the Shakespeare bookstore, and it was truly the most magical experience I have ever had,” Marston says. “I walked in and felt so immersed in the books and the history and I went up to the second floor and sat up there and wept. I was like, ‘I never want to leave this place. I only ever want to feel this way and be surrounded by books and people who love books.’”

Their vision is grand. The bookstore, they hope, will become a gathering spot for authors in the fantasy and sci-fi realms. And they talk of the speakeasy as not just being a safe eatery to sit and read all day, but also a future venue for, say, immersive theater. The two-story space will house multiple themed rooms, either for hanging out and hiding, or for potential events.

“I think it’s safe to say that if you wanted to be transported to outer space, you would be pleasantly surprised,” Marston says. “Or if you wanted to escape to Dracula’s castle or some of these other really big genres that you have, readers will be pleasantly surprised at the worlds that we are building.”

Johnson says Genres will be flexible enough to welcome introverts who want to dream away the day with a book, but can also be a home for a baby shower in addition to an author signing or a theatrical event. That’s in part why the shop and ground floor of the speakeasy have a familiar fantasy vibe, one not out of place in, say, the fairy tales of the Brothers Grimm, albeit with the welcoming tone of Disney.

Genres’ founders cited “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” as an inspiration for the bookshop’s bar, depicted in an artist’s rendering.

(Gensler)

“The focal point of the space is this sort of epic woodland fantasy,” Marston says. “When we first brought this to Gensler, and showed them our inspo deck, we kept saying ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream.’”

That’s key, as everything in the space will spring from the written word. Genres, in that sense, also feels refreshing, emphasizing actual books and tactile media at a cultural moment when AI is often dominating conversations. Grant and Marston speak of being influenced by passionate social media creators who celebrate books, wanting to build a community as much as an event space. A prerequisite to be a bartender, says Marston, will need to be a love of books.

“We’re calling all our bartenders book-tenders,” Marston says. “Not only will they be well-versed in all things spirits and cocktails, but they are also someone who can give you the next book recommendation. These are very specialized employees. They can curate cocktails and books for you.”

Consider Genres a place for dinner and drinks, but one where story is always on the menu.

“People are craving more than dinner,” Grant says. “They want experience. They want magical memories that can get them through harder moments because nothing is easy right now. People want to spend money on something that is more than just dinner or going to a bar. Like whimsy.”