On Day 21 of the federal government shutdown, House Speaker Mike Johnson, R-La., continued to call out Senate Democrats for prioritizing political survival over the needs of the American people.
The shutdown, now approaching its third week, began after Senate Democrats blocked a House Republican bill that would have kept the government open.
Two Democrats—Sens. John Fetterman of Pennsylvania and Catherine Cortez Masto of Nevada—broke ranks alongside Independent Sen. Angus King to vote in favor of funding.
Johnson pointed to newly reported remarks from anonymous Democratic insiders revealing deep fear within their ranks. One senator told The Hill, “People are going to get hammered if they vote for the House-passed bill to reopen the government.”
Another insider likened the situation to the French Revolution, stating there would be enough Democratic support to reopen the government “if people were not terrified of getting the guillotine.”
Johnson emphasized that this fear of their far-left base is what continues to prevent the Senate from ending the shutdown.
“Do not be distracted,” Johnson told reporters during a press conference on October 21. “The American people would have an open government if Democrats were not terrified of their radical base.”
The arena was quiet in a way that felt almost surreal. The usual sounds—the cheers of families, the excited chatter of children anticipating the splash of water, the mingling scents of popcorn and chlorine—were absent. In their place was a profound stillness, as if the air itself was holding its breath. At the center of the space rested a wooden casket, adorned with a cascade of white lilies, carried carefully by Jessica’s colleagues. The familiar atmosphere of performance had been replaced by a reverent hush, punctuated only by soft murmurs and tears.
Jessica had been far more than a performer; she had been the heart and soul of the arena. She was a guide, a teacher, and a bridge between humans and some of the most intelligent creatures in the animal kingdom. Her bond with the orcas she worked with went far beyond training routines or scheduled shows. She saw them as sentient beings capable of emotion, memory, and social understanding. Among them, Kai—the magnificent black-and-white orca who had leapt, twirled, and danced beside her for years—recognized her not as a trainer giving instructions, but as a trusted companion and family.