Capitol Hill was a chaotic mess on Thursday, and Senator Padilla made sure all eyes were on him. He walked into a press conference, got into a scuffle, and wound up in handcuffs — all of it caught on tape. The footage, conveniently shot by Padilla’s own team, spread fast. If it was a stunt, it worked. Within hours, major Democratic voices like Pete Buttigieg were condemning the incident, claiming even Trump wouldn’t cross that line. The Congressional Hispanic Caucus rallied, heckled Speaker Mike Johnson, and declared Padilla a thug or a hero, depending on which side you were on.

Let’s be real: Padilla knew exactly what he was doing. He showed up to that press event looking to make a scene — and he made one. Whether or not he wore his Senate pin is beside the point. He wanted the arrest. He wanted the handcuffs. He wanted to be the visual representation of resistance to what California Democrats are branding a fascist crackdown. Gavin Newsom practically begged Trump to arrest him — Padilla followed through.

The reactions say it all. I’ve heard from Republicans on the Hill who weren’t thrilled with how it went down, and that tells you who won the optics game. If the video wasn’t a strategic release — if this wasn’t planned — it sure fooled me. Democrats instantly seized on it. Social media lit up. The message was clear: California’s not backing down. Padilla’s not backing down. And if you try to box us out of this debate, we’ll crash the press conference — literally.

Padilla and Governor Kristi Noem apparently had a sit-down afterward. They exchanged numbers, maybe patched it up, maybe not. But the story had already moved. The narrative was set. This wasn’t about reconciliation — it was about the clip. A sitting senator in handcuffs doesn’t just turn heads. It dominates the news cycle. And for a party looking to show spine in the face of rising federal enforcement in California, Padilla delivered. He walked in knowing exactly how it would play — and for better or worse, he played it perfectly.

Chapters

00:00:00 - Intro

00:02:04 - Thoughts on Sen. Padilla

00:09:38 - Interview with Evan Scrimshaw

00:38:53 - Update

00:39:25 - Dem Govs Defend State Immigration

00:42:02 - House Recissions Package Passes

00:44:55 - Air India Plane Crash

00:46:54 - Interview with Evan Scrimshaw, con’t.

01:25:32 - Wrap-up

The ongoing Los Angeles protests started with ICE raids. Not a new thing in concept, but a new thing in tone and target. We’re talking work sites, immigration courts, restaurants — not jails or prisons, not the places where even the most progressive voices might begrudgingly agree law enforcement has some claim. But California law has essentially blocked ICE from accessing inmates for deportation. So instead of going after the people most would agree should be first in line, they’re now going after people in public-facing jobs and community spaces. It's one thing to talk about enforcement — it’s another when that enforcement happens where families eat or work.

And that’s the flashpoint. Trump said he’d deliver the biggest deportation effort in U.S. history. That promise means numbers, and numbers mean sympathy eventually bleeds in. I assumed it would come when a grandma running a family bakery got dragged out on camera. Instead, we’re here — people in court, people in the kitchen, being targeted. This was always going to happen. When you aim big, you eventually hit someone the public doesn't want you to hit. And in a city like L.A., that means people are going to show up in the streets.

Violence, Protest, and the California Reflex

Protesting in California isn’t unusual. It’s part of the culture. Go look at Instagram stories from anyone in L.A. or the Bay Area — if something controversial is happening, people are in the streets. It’s not performative in a bad way; it’s performative in the literal sense. It’s how people express politics. But with that comes another layer. The violence.

There’s a slice of every major California protest that’s just there for the bricks, the Molotovs, the chaos. Whether they’re accelerationists or just anarchists, they’re consistent. And that’s the problem. The damage they do isn’t proportional — it’s cinematic. It’s what ends up on cable news and social media. And if the goal is to change hearts and minds about immigration policy, burning cop cars and smashing windows makes that harder, not easier.

Where Are the Adults?

This is where leadership matters. Donald Trump’s giving about 20% of his attention to this. Maybe less. He’s more engaged with Iran and China. The ICE moves feel reflexive, not strategic. They hit resistance, they escalate. Federalizing the National Guard, deploying Marines — it’s blunt-force governance. It’s power without precision. What you really need is coordination with the local officials. Instead, we’ve got a shouting match.

Gavin Newsom says “arrest me.” Karen Bass echoes that. But neither is engaging with the reality on the ground. They’re acting like Trump is literally smashing windows. And maybe that’s useful for the national narrative, but it’s not leadership. The onus is on them — Newsom, Bass, the people closest to the problem — to take the lead in condemning the violence. But they won’t even acknowledge it. And so we spiral.

The truth is, most of these protests are peaceful. But the few that aren’t are the ones that define the story. That was the lesson of 2020. And yet here we are again, learning it all over. It’s a noble cause, absolutely. But when you ignore the violence — when you pretend it doesn’t matter — you lose the moral high ground. And right now, nobody’s looking particularly adult in the room.

Chapters

00:00:00 - Intro

00:01:33 - LA Protests

00:18:45 - Interview with Rep. Greg Steube

00:38:58 - Update

00:39:26 - BBB Provisions

00:42:25 - Recission Package

00:48:28 - LA Protest Polling

00:50:19 - Interview with Tom Merritt

01:28:53 - Wrap-up