
The U.S. Senate has approved President Donald Trump’s first and only nominee to the Boston-based federal appeals court. Until recently, most of the justices on this court were chosen by Democrats and often rejected his policy proposals.
The Republican-led Senate voted 52-46 along party lines to make Joshua Dunlap, a conservative lawyer from Maine who often worked on conservative legal cases, a life-tenured judge on the 1st U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals.
As of Thursday, that court was the only one of the 13 appeals courts without any active judges appointed by Republican presidents. That has helped make district courts in New England a popular place for Democratic state attorneys general and advocacy groups to file cases against Trump’s agenda.
In his first term, Trump didn’t name any judges to the 1st Circuit. At the start of his second term, he almost lost the chance to choose one when his Democratic predecessor, Joe Biden, put forth a nomination to fill a seat that U.S. Circuit Judge William Kayatta had held.
But Biden couldn’t get Julia Lipez confirmed as his candidate before he departed office. Kayatta, who Democratic President Barack Obama appointed, formally became a senior in October 2024, just days before the presidential election that delivered Trump back to the White House.
In July, Trump chose Dunlap, a partner at the legal firm Pierce Atwood, to fill the open position. He said that if the Senate confirmed him, he would “fearlessly defend our Constitution.”
Dunlap got his bachelor’s degree from Pensacola Christian College and then went to Notre Dame Law School, where he graduated in 2008. During law school, he worked as an intern with what is now known as the Alliance Defending Freedom, a conservative Christian legal rights nonprofit.
As a lawyer, he has worked on cases that have challenged Maine’s paid family and medical leave program, the state’s campaign finance rules, and the use of ranked-choice voting to run the state’s elections.
This is the second judge approved this week.
The U.S. Senate also confirmed a former clerk for conservative Supreme Court Justices Neil Gorsuch and the late Antonin Scalia to be a judge on the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals.
The Republican-controlled Senate voted 52 to 45 in favor of Eric Tung, a partner at Jones Day. This made him the first judge President Donald Trump selected for the San Francisco-based appeals court during his second administration.
His confirmation brings the total number of judges Trump appointed to the 9th Circuit from 2017 to 2020 during his first term to 10. This weakens the power of Democratic appointees, who have long held sway on a court that was previously
thought to be the most liberal of all the federal appellate courts.
There are currently 16 Democratic appointees and 13 Republican appointees on the 9th Circuit, including Tung. In July, Trump nominated Tung to fill the seat that U.S. Circuit Judge Sandra Segal Ikuta had held. She stated in March that she would step down when a successor was named.
When Trump announced Tung’s nomination, he called him a “Tough Patriot” on social media and said he would preserve the Rule of Law in the “most RADICAL, Leftist States” like California, Oregon, and Washington. These are three of the nine states that the 9th Circuit has jurisdiction over.
Tung is a partner at the law firm Jones Day in Los Angeles. Before that, he was a federal prosecutor and worked for the U.S. Department of Justice.
Tung worked as a clerk for Gorsuch twice: once when he was on the 10th Circuit Court of Appeals and again after Trump confirmed him to the Supreme Court in 2017. He had also worked for Scalia, who passed away in 2016.
U.S. Rep. Brandon Gill (R-TX) is drafting articles of impeachment against James Boasberg, the chief judge of the U.S. District Court in the District of Columbia, over bombshell revelations that he signed off on covert surveillance of prominent Republican lawmakers as part of the Biden-led Justice Department’s sprawling “Arctic Frost” investigation.
Documents released earlier this week by congressional investigators revealed that former Special Counsel Jack Smith surveilled upwards of 163 prominent conservative lawmakers, pundits, activists and lawyers, as well as some of the most prominent conservative organizations in the nation such as Turning Point USA and the Heritage Foundation. The investigation — which was personally authorized by former Attorney General Merrick Garland and former FBI Director Christopher Wray — centered on President Trump’s objections to the 2020 election but was widely open-ended.
Cordoning with several FBI field offices across the country, Arctic Frost investigators obtained phone records, sensitive political communications and bank records, among other things. Some of the individuals surveilled had no involvement with challenges to the 2020 election, while some of the organizations were not even formed at the time of the January 6 protests in 2021.
Boasberg played a pivotal role as the federal judge who authorized and signed off on multiple secret subpoenas and search warrants targeting Republican lawmakers and entities, including at least eight senators and one congressman, enabling the collection of their phone records, metadata, and related communications without their knowledge or consent
In one particular instance, Boasberg approved a subpoena issued by Smith’s team to AT&T in 2022 for Senator Ted Cruz’s personal cellphone data -—covering calls, texts, voicemails, and geolocation from January 4-7, 2021 — as well as his Senate office landline via Verizon, framing it as part of probing potential “election conspiracy” ties to Trump.
Boasberg justified this by claiming “reasonable grounds” that Cruz posed risks like destroying evidence, tampering with records, intimidating witnesses, or jeopardizing national security if notified.
Judge James Boasberg speaks at the ABA conference on April 2, 2025
Cruz has vehemently denied as baseless and politically driven, noting no evidence supported such claims and that AT&T ultimately resisted compliance citing constitutional protections for Congress. This surveillance extended to communications with legislative staff, media, and other Republicans, with Boasberg reportedly issuing similar orders “like placemats at Denny’s” for other targets, turning Arctic Frost into a broad dragnet against GOP figures challenging the 2020 election.
Arctic Frost surveillance was deliberately kept secret from the targets, including Senator Ted Cruz, through nondisclosure or “gag” orders signed by Judge Boasberg that explicitly prohibited telecommunications providers like AT&T and Verizon from informing the subpoenaed individuals or entities for at least one year, under threat of legal penalties. These orders cited the aforementioned risks of evidence destruction or investigation compromise, ensuring the Biden-era FBI and DOJ could conduct what Republicans call a covert “spying campaign.”During a press conference on Thursday, several Republican lawmakers, including Senator Cruz, called on the House to introduce articles of impeachment against Boasberg due to his role in the emerging scandal. Cruz accused Boasberg of an “egregious abuse of judicial power” and becoming a “partisan warrior” by authorizing secret subpoenas and gag orders as part of the investigation.
“I am, right now, calling on the House of Representatives to impeach Judge James Boasberg,” emphasizing that there was “precisely zero evidence” to support Boasberg’s claims that Cruz might destroy evidence, tamper with records, or intimidate witnesses if informed, calling it a baseless pretext for a “weaponized legal system.”
Hours later, Rep. Gill indicated that he will be reintroducing articles of impeachment against Boasberg as a result of the latest revelations. Gill had previously introduced impeachment articles over Boasberg’s attempts to block the Trump Administration’s implementation of the Alien Enemies Act earlier this year.
“Senator Cruz is exactly right: Judge Boasberg needs to be impeached,” Gill posted on X. “I’m working on the Articles of Impeachment now.”
In order to impeach a federal judge, the U.S. House of Representatives must approve a motion to hold a trial by a simple majority vote. Removal is highly unlikely, however, as such an action would require a conviction in the Senate with a two-thirds vote.
It began with a suspension, a reinstatement, and a monologue that wasn’t supposed to shake the foundations of American television. But in today’s political climate, even late-night comedy has become a battlefield.
Jimmy Kimmel returned to his desk this week under the hottest spotlight of his career. His show’s suspension, reinstatement, and continuing blackout across large swaths of the country has turned what might once have been a passing controversy into a national referendum on free speech, politics, and the future of late-night television.
The saga started when Kimmel made comments in the wake of conservative activist Charlie Kirk’s assassination earlier this month. In one of his monologues, the comedian suggested that Kirk’s shooter might have been aligned with pro-Trump forces. That suggestion was later proven false. Authorities soon revealed that the accused, 22-year-old Tyler Robinson, had been radicalized by far-left views.
What might once have been brushed aside as a tasteless misstep in timing was seized upon by critics as evidence of irresponsibility. ABC’s parent company Disney suspended Kimmel, citing “insensitive” remarks made during a moment of national mourning.
The reaction was swift. Supporters of Kimmel decried the move as corporate censorship under political pressure. Critics argued that Kimmel had knowingly pushed a dangerous hoax.
By the time Disney announced his reinstatement, the controversy had already grown into a firestorm.
No controversy involving a high-profile TV personality remains confined to Hollywood for long. President Donald Trump weighed in almost immediately, posting on Truth Social:
“I can’t believe ABC Fake News gave Jimmy Kimmel his job back.”
The phrasing was classic Trump: blunt, incredulous, and designed to light up his supporters. But he went further, accusing Kimmel of “putting ABC in jeopardy by playing 99% positive Democrat garbage” and hinting that a lawsuit could be on the horizon.
Trump, who earlier this year secured a $16 million settlement from Paramount in a defamation case, teased the possibility of going after ABC next.
Kimmel, never one to miss an opportunity to turn Trump’s words into material, shot back during his return:
“You can’t believe they gave me my job back? I can’t believe we gave you your job back!”
The line earned laughs in the studio, but outside those walls it landed as another escalation in a long-running feud between the entertainer-president and the entertainer-comedian.
Even with Disney’s decision to bring Kimmel back, two of the nation’s largest television station groups — Nexstar Media Group and Sinclair Broadcast Group — decided to keep the blackout in place.
Together, their affiliates account for nearly one-quarter of ABC’s national reach. That means millions of viewers across the country have been unable to see Kimmel’s program, even as he resumed broadcasting from his Los Angeles studio.
Nexstar executives explained their reasoning in corporate language, saying the show must “better reflect the diverse interests of the communities we serve.”
Sinclair was more explicit, demanding that Kimmel issue a direct apology to Erika Kirk, the widow of Charlie Kirk, and make donations to her family and to Turning Point USA. Until then, they vowed to replace his program with news programming.
So far, Kimmel has declined.
In his return monologue, Kimmel addressed the controversy. He insisted that he had never intended to make light of Charlie Kirk’s death and acknowledged that his comments may have seemed “ill-timed or unclear.”
But he stopped short of offering the apology that many demanded.
“I was not trying to blame any group for the act,” Kimmel said, describing Robinson as “a deeply disturbed individual.” He emphasized that his intention was not malice, but misinterpretation.
For ABC affiliates that wanted contrition, the distinction was meaningless. For Kimmel, it was non-negotiable.
The Kimmel saga has become about more than one comedian, one network, or one remark. It has opened a debate about what kind of political speech is permissible on American television — and who gets to decide.
Supporters frame the blackout as censorship, arguing that affiliates are punishing Kimmel for challenging Trump and offending conservative sensibilities. Critics counter that Kimmel abused his platform by amplifying a hoax during a national tragedy.
Caught in the middle is ABC, torn between supporting its talent, appeasing affiliates, and navigating the political minefield of Trump-era media.
The controversy comes at a precarious moment for late-night television. Ratings across the genre have declined sharply as audiences shift to online clips rather than full-length broadcasts. Younger viewers increasingly consume political comedy on TikTok or YouTube rather than staying up for monologues at 11:30 p.m.
CBS canceled The Late Show with Stephen Colbert earlier this summer following its own settlement with Trump in a defamation dispute. NBC’s Tonight Show has seen ratings erode, while streaming platforms experiment with alternative forms of satire and commentary.
Against this backdrop, Kimmel’s suspension and blackout strike at the very heart of late-night’s survival. If networks cannot guarantee distribution, and if comedians must second-guess their every line, the entire genre risks collapsing under political and corporate pressures.
This is not the first time Trump and Kimmel have clashed. During the 2016 and 2020 campaigns, Kimmel regularly mocked Trump in his monologues, skewering everything from his policy positions to his personal quirks. Trump, in turn, dismissed Kimmel as “terrible” and “not funny.”
But the stakes are higher now. Trump is not merely a political figure but the sitting president, wielding influence not just over voters but over corporations wary of his ire.
For Trump, going after Kimmel plays into a larger strategy: casting the entertainment industry as a hostile, elitist force aligned against his supporters. For Kimmel, standing up to Trump reinforces his role as a cultural critic willing to punch up, no matter the consequences.
One reason the backlash has been so intense is the nature of the tragedy that sparked it. Charlie Kirk was not only a conservative activist but a figure deeply intertwined with Trump’s movement. His assassination shocked supporters and opponents alike.
Erika Kirk, his widow, became a public symbol of resilience after delivering a tearful message at her husband’s memorial. By invoking the incident in a way that seemed to point blame at Trump’s base, Kimmel stepped on raw nerves.
Sinclair’s demand that he apologize directly to Erika underscores how personal this controversy has become. It’s no longer just about what was said on TV — it’s about the pain of a grieving family and the perception of disrespect.
The battle over Kimmel’s show is far from resolved. His contract with ABC runs through May of next year, but questions loom:
Will affiliates cave and reinstate his program, or will the blackout persist?
Will Kimmel soften his stance and issue the apology, or double down on defiance?
Will Trump follow through on his threat of legal action, potentially repeating his earlier success against Paramount?
Each scenario carries enormous implications not just for Kimmel, but for the future of political comedy in America.
At its core, the Kimmel-Trump showdown reveals the fragility of free expression in a polarized society. In one corner stands a comedian who insists his role is to challenge power with humor, even when it risks offense. In the other stands a president who believes much of mainstream entertainment is weaponized against him and his supporters.
Television networks, affiliates, and corporate executives are left scrambling to balance principles, profits, and political realities. And viewers, meanwhile, are left to wonder whether they will even be able to watch the shows they once took for granted.
Jimmy Kimmel once joked that the worst fate for a late-night host was to become irrelevant. But in 2025, irrelevance seems impossible. Every quip, every misstep, every monologue can become a flashpoint in the nation’s ongoing culture wars.
What began as a suspension has become a test of wills: between a comedian and a president, a network and its affiliates, free speech and corporate caution.
Whether Kimmel survives the storm, or whether late-night comedy itself can withstand the pressures of modern politics, remains to be seen. But one thing is certain: in today’s America, even laughter comes with consequences.