e6.FULL-PANIC in NYC! Mamdani’s Free-Bus SCAM and Trump Attack just BLEW UP in his face!!!
FULL-PANIC IN THE BIG APPLE: Mamdani’s Socialist Dream Collides with Economic Reality, Leaving Democrats in Meltdown
By A. J. Harrison, Senior Economic Correspondent
New York, NY – Just moments after the triumphant cheers for newly elected Assemblyman Zohran Mamdani faded—cheers that heralded a new “democratic socialist revolution” in New York City—the celebratory mood has curdled into widespread anxiety. Mamdani’s flagship campaign promises, most notably the “free bus” program and sweeping plans to “tax the rich,” are now meeting the cold, hard geometry of state budgets and economic accountability. The result is a political and fiscal panic that is causing prominent Democrats, including Governor Kathy Hochul, to execute a startling retreat from the revolutionary promises they once embraced on the rally stage.
What was touted as a socialist utopia is quickly being exposed as an economic disaster waiting to happen, threatening to accelerate the exodus of wealth and businesses from the Empire State. The core fear gripping everyday New Yorkers and corporate boardrooms alike is encapsulated by one phrase:
The Free Bus Fiasco: A $700 Million Hole in the Budget
Mamdani’s campaign was built on accessible, transformative policies, chief among them the promise to make MTA buses free for all New Yorkers. For a city grappling with transportation equity, the concept was certainly electrifying. However, as reality sets in, the plan’s economic foundations are crumbling under scrutiny.
The issue is straightforward: the Metropolitan Transportation Authority (MTA) relies heavily on fare revenue to sustain its massive, aging infrastructure. Mamdani’s own current estimate for replacing the lost fare revenue stands at approximately
But as commentators and interviewers, including traditional liberals like David Pakman, pointed out in the immediate aftermath of the election, the $700 million figure is dangerously incomplete.
The critical flaw, as exposed in a highly circulated interview, is that Mamdani’s figure only accounts for the replacement of the fair revenue itself. It fails to budget for the inevitable, massive consequential costs that any truly “free” and fast bus system would require:
Increased Maintenance and Operations: A free system, designed to increase ridership, immediately puts more stress on the existing bus fleet, necessitating more frequent and costly maintenance.
Expansion of Fleet and Staffing:
Infrastructure Overhaul: Mamdani correctly acknowledges that “free” must also mean “fast.” To achieve this, the city needs a “true reimagination” of bus transit, involving massive investment in busways, dedicated bus lanes, and signal prioritization systems. This capital project would run into the
When pressed on this glaring budget gap, Mamdani’s response during the interview was notably evasive. He failed to confirm if the estimates accounted for new buses, maintenance, or staff. His argument pivoted toward the need for the city to leverage control over its streets to speed up transit—a political solution to a fiscal problem.
This lack of concrete budgetary planning is not merely an academic disagreement; it is the source of the high-level panic that has gripped the state capital. The fear is palpable: this socialist policy is a promissory note that New York’s already strained middle class will ultimately be forced to pay.
Governor Hochul’s Startling Retreat: The Boss Wears the Pants
The most dramatic fallout from Mamdani’s victory has been the immediate and almost comical public retraction by Governor Kathy Hochul. Despite having shared the stage with the newly elected Assemblyman during the campaign season—a political appeasement to the growing far-left wing of the Democratic party—Hochul is now rapidly distancing herself from the most radical proposals.
Hochul’s public statements reveal a Governor caught in a terrifying bind: she understands the necessity of preserving New York’s status as a capitalist financial hub, but she must simultaneously manage the socialist fervor gripping the city.
In a recent press conference, Hochul was pressed on the free bus initiative and Mamdani’s other economic planks. Her response was clear and definitive: She is currently a “no” on the free bus promise.
The Governor expressed profound concern about removing a core revenue stream from the MTA, a system already teetering on the brink of fiscal stability. Her body language and tone during the discussion hinted at deep frustration, conveying a message that can be summarized bluntly:
“I wear the pants in the state of New York. If you think some slick-talking mayor is going to come in and change that, you’re high. I’ll still listen, but I’m not on board with any of it.”
This striking departure from campaign rhetoric underscores the central problem: socialist ideology, while politically potent in rallies, simply does not compute with the realities of governing a state that relies heavily on a narrow, wealthy tax base.
The Tax Exodus Warning: Fear of the Communist Horizon
The panic intensifies when discussing Mamdani’s proposal to finance these socialist programs through aggressive tax increases on high-net-worth individuals, specifically targeting a potential 2% tax on the rich and massive increases in capital gains taxes.
Hochul was equally resolute in rejecting the notion of raising taxes, citing the critical economic risk of capital flight. Her numbers were damning and inescapable:
“One and a half percent of New Yorkers cover about a third of our budget. That’s enormous. I’m concerned about out-migration of people who are the ones who are supporting our budget. I cannot make up for that with middle-class tax increases.”
This is the economic reality that democratic socialism refuses to confront. New York City, by its own Governor’s admission, is a capitalist city, and the state budget is overwhelmingly dependent on a small fraction of its wealthiest residents.
As commentators, including the high-profile Stephen A. Smith, have warned, making the city unattractive for businesses and high earners leads to a predictable chain reaction:
Wealthy Residents Leave: High tax burdens and poor quality of life (crime, poor infrastructure) cause billionaires and high-earning professionals to move their residency to lower-tax states like Florida or Texas.
Businesses Follow: The headquarters and core business operations often follow the leadership and capital, leading to a permanent loss of corporate tax revenue and job creation.
Tax Burden Shifts: The enormous state budget—which funds everything from education to social services—must be covered. The burden inevitably shifts to the already struggling middle and working classes through devastating tax hikes.
The ultimate irony is that policies designed to promote economic equality risk destroying the very tax base that supports the state’s most “generous supportive budget,” thereby hurting the middle and poor classes most profoundly. For many, this trajectory—seizing land from landlords, freezing rents, and taxing producers—is viewed as an inexorable slide towards communism.
The Threat to Private Property and Order
Beyond the fiscal chaos, Mamdani’s platform includes other measures that are fueling the deepest anxieties among property owners and law-abiding citizens:
Freezing Rents and Seizing Buildings: The proposal to freeze rents and potentially seize control of buildings from landlords who are deemed inadequate is viewed not as progressive reform, but as a dangerous erosion of private property rights. The everyday New Yorker is terrified that if the state can seize commercial property, their homes and small businesses could be next.
Defunding the Police (The Mental Health Expert Swap): Despite public anxiety over rising crime rates, Mamdani has previously advocated for policies that prioritize “mental health experts” over police presence in the subway system. This approach is fiercely criticized by residents who demand more, not fewer, police officers, believing that mental health support cannot replace law enforcement in active crime situations.
As Stephen A. Smith emphatically stated, “I don’t care about that. I want cops in the subways in New York City where I was born and raised… I don’t want to hear about no damn mental health experts in subways.”
Conclusion: The Final Reckoning for New York’s Soul
The democratic socialist victory in New York City has provided an immediate, real-world test case for an ideology long confined to college campuses and abstract political theory. The results are already proving disastrous.
The “full-blown socialism” promised by Mamdani—free buses, free grocery stores, and punitive taxes—is being met not by revolutionary fervor, but by the cold, calculated skepticism of the current Democratic establishment. Governor Hochul, representing the institutional guard, is essentially telling the far-left: Your revolution stops at the state budget.
The choice facing New York is stark: maintain its capitalist foundation, which guarantees the tax revenue necessary for its supportive social programs, or pursue a socialist experiment that risks complete economic collapse and capital flight.
As the state teeters on this financial precipice, the core question remains unanswered by the self-proclaimed revolutionaries: If the free bus is the symbol of the revolution, who will be left in New York to pay the fare? The panic is warranted, the political meltdown is justified, and the economic reckoning is inevitable. The Empire State is now engaged in a profound battle for its very soul.
a38.Representative Anna Paulina Luna Pushes Bill to BAN Dual Citizens from Serving in U.S. Congress
WASHINGTON D.C. – Representative Anna Paulina Luna (R-FL) is spearheading a significant legislative push aimed at amending the rules governing eligibility for public office, specifically targeting individuals holding dual citizenship. Luna is set to introduce legislation that would
ban dual citizens from serving in the U.S. Congress, demanding that lawmakers possess 100% allegiance to the United States.
In a bold and direct statement outlining her reasoning, Rep. Luna asserted:
“The ONLY people who should be allowed to serve in Congress are American citizens!”
The Argument for Undivided Loyalty
Luna’s move comes amid ongoing political debates regarding national security and the potential for divided loyalties among elected officials. The Florida Republican is framing her proposal as essential for
“protecting loyalty and accountability in Washington.”
Currently, the U.S. Constitution sets minimal requirements for holding office in the House and Senate, focusing primarily on age, residency, and the duration of U.S. citizenship. Dual citizenship is not explicitly prohibited, which has led to a number of current and past members of Congress holding allegiance to two different nations.
Luna argues that for an individual to hold an office that requires access to highly classified information and involves making laws for the United States, their loyalty must be singular and absolute.
Restoring Trust and Transparency
The proposed ban is presented by Luna as a “bold move to restore trust, transparency, and accountability in Washington.” By eliminating the possibility of dual allegiance, the legislation seeks to reassure the American public that their representatives’ decision-making is solely focused on U.S. interests, without any competing national ties.
If introduced and advanced, this bill is expected to ignite a fierce debate over constitutional rights, national security, and the definition of exclusive American citizenship in the political sphere. Rep. Luna is reported to be
“standing firm” on the necessity of this measure to ensure the integrity of the nation’s legislative body.
I Was Cut From Don Jr.’s Family Wedding Guest List — So I Booked a Solo Vacation. Then the Whole Thing Fell Apart.
Families like his don’t use the word “uninvited.”
They simply stop including you.
I’m Kimberly Guilfoyle — former prosecutor, political commentator, and until recently, the fiancée of Donald Trump Jr.
We’d been together for years. Four engagement anniversaries. Dozens of family Christmas cards. Hundreds of events where I stood quietly at his side while his family smiled for the cameras and made room for everyone but me.
The last time I saw the inside of a wedding planning spreadsheet, it was on my laptop — me, building guest lists, booking florists, sending Don venue options with little gold stars.
But when his cousin’s wedding was announced — a splashy, selective vineyard event covered by half the New York tabloids — my name wasn’t just missing.
It was gone.
No text. No phone call. Just silence.
Until one day, I received a brief, almost clinical message:
“Hey Kim. Hope you’re doing well. Quick update — the final guest list for the wedding is tight. They had to make cuts. It wasn’t personal.”
That phrase — “It wasn’t personal” — did something to me.
Because I’d learned long ago: when they say “it’s not personal,” it always is.
I called Don. No answer. I texted. No response.
Eventually, I got one line back:
“It’s not my call. I didn’t want to stir things up.”
Not. My. Call.
That’s what you say when you agree with the decision but want clean hands.And just like that, I went from fiancée to liability.
From guest list to ghost.I could’ve made noise. I could’ve pushed back, reminded them who paid for whose campaign fundraisers, whose connections got which doors opened. But I didn’t.
Instead, I did something none of them saw coming.
I booked a solo vacation.A private suite on the Amalfi Coast. Full sea view. Spa access. No press.
No drama.Just me.
And the silence they thought would destroy me.Two days later, while the family scrambled to confirm catering numbers, I was sipping a Bellini at the airport lounge. First class boarding pass in hand. Sunglasses on.
Before takeoff, I posted one photo:
White-sand beach. Turquoise water. My hand holding a chilled drink.Caption: “Cut from the list. Cleared for takeoff.”
By the time the plane landed in Naples, the likes were already climbing.
Cousin comments. Former staffers replying: “About time.” One of Don’s old friends — the kind who’d been polite in public, cruel in private — messaged, “Iconic.”The next morning, while Don’s family rehearsed speeches and arranged monogrammed napkins, I was wrapped in a spa robe, overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea.
Room service. Silence. Peace.
My absence was louder than any speech I could’ve made.And I wasn’t done yet.
THE WEDDING FALLS APART
The morning of the wedding, I woke to the sound of waves instead of a makeup artist banging on the door.
I stretched across a king-sized bed lined with crisp linen, the sea breeze curling through floor-to-ceiling windows. Room service had just arrived: espresso, Sicilian oranges, fresh honey still in the comb.
Back home — or rather, back at the vineyard — the dress was probably being steamed. The floral arch adjusted for lighting. Don’s family huddled for pre-ceremony prayer photos.
And me?
I was already five chapters into a novel I’d bought for no one but myself.My phone buzzed. I ignored it.
Then it buzzed again. And again.
Then came the names:Don. His aunt. Melissa, the only cousin I still had time for.Melissa’s message was short:
“Heads up. Something’s wrong. The groom walked out.”
I blinked. The screen blurred for a second — not from tears, but from trying not to laugh while holding a hot espresso.
I texted back:
“He what?”
Her reply came instantly:
“Big fight. During reception. He just… left. Jacket still on the chair. Guests stunned. Cameras caught it. Don tried to fix it. Failed.”
I scrolled up. Dozens of missed calls.
A message from Don:“I wish you were here. Could’ve helped.”
Helped?
I nearly dropped my phone into my espresso.
The same people who cut me out now expected me to play disaster control from a continent away?I took a picture instead — me, in a robe, glass of prosecco, toes curled into a terrace railing, the sea behind me glowing like a screensaver.
Caption: “Too busy enjoying my overreaction.”
It exploded. Thousands of likes. Friends cheering. One former colleague messaged:
“This is the softest, classiest takedown I’ve ever seen.”
The comments kept coming.
“Don’t answer.”
“They deserve the fallout.”
“Peace looks good on you.”And it did.
That night, while the wedding venue reportedly descended into whispers, shouting, and a canceled string quartet, I was at a rooftop restaurant in Ravello, biting into handmade ravioli, sipping red wine that cost more than my old rent.
The sky bled coral and violet. My phone buzzed again. This time, Don:
“Kim, they’re blaming me. You know how they are. Please call.”
I turned the screen over. Didn’t respond.
Not because I was being petty.
Because for once, their script wasn’t mine to finish.THE RETURN
Vacations don’t last forever. But boundaries can.
When I finally flew home — three weeks later, skin bronzed, inbox ignored — it wasn’t because I missed anyone. It was because the resort staff had started greeting me by name, and I decided I’d rather leave while I still felt like a guest, not a ghost of my own reinvention.
The day before I left Italy, I stood barefoot on the balcony, a glass of champagne in hand, and whispered a promise to the sea:
“I’m not coming back to clean up your messes. I’m coming back to close the door.”
Touchdown.
New York was colder than I remembered. Don had sent a car. I canceled it and called my own.When I arrived back at the apartment — technically still in my name — he was waiting. Hair tousled. Tie undone. The look of a man who hadn’t slept much since the band stopped playing.
“Kim…”
I walked past him. Dropped my suitcase. Took off my coat. Didn’t speak.
He followed me into the kitchen like a dog that used to bark orders but now whimpered for scraps.
“They’re all still talking about the wedding,” he said. “Blaming me. Blaming you. It’s been a disaster.”
I poured a glass of water. “I heard.”
“You could’ve helped.”
I turned, slowly. “You’re right. I could’ve. And I didn’t. And it still fell apart. Which tells me everything I need to know.”
He flinched.
“I didn’t cut you from the list,” he said.
“You didn’t defend my name, either.”
Silence.
I stepped closer. My voice calm, final:
“You didn’t just let them erase me. You handed them the pen.”
He didn’t argue. Couldn’t.
“They want to talk,” he said. “A family sit-down.”
I laughed once — not cruelly, but with the clarity of someone who’d stopped bleeding for people who never offered a bandage.
“Tell them I’m writing a new script,” I said. “One where I’m not the fixer. One where I don’t take the blame when your world collapses.”
He stood there, blinking.
“You look different,” he finally muttered.
“I feel different,” I replied. “Turns out peace isn’t just a place. It’s a decision.”
I walked past him again. Picked up my coat. Slipped it on slowly.
And just before I opened the door, I turned back and said,
“By the way… this time, I RSVP no.”
Epilogue
Melissa called me a week later.
“They’re still spiraling,” she said. “Your absence is now the most talked-about thing from the wedding. Even Grandma said the whole thing felt ‘cursed.’”
I smiled into the phone.
“Maybe it was. Or maybe it was never meant to hold together without the one person who always held it together.”
Melissa laughed. “So what now?”
I looked around the café I’d just entered. My own table. My own schedule. My own peace.
“Now?” I said. “Now I live.”
