California
summer in the bubble
My family and I are spending the summer in California, where my daughter works and lives. It’s gorgeous here—the ocean breeze, kale smoothies, solar panels sparkling like jewelry on every roof. But let’s not kid ourselves: this is a bubble of liberalism so thick you could bounce a quarter off it.
Everyone we talk to is convinced progressive values are destined to triumph, that justice always wins in the end, that California’s cultural glow can somehow burn away the darkness of what I call PrumpTutin. I wish I shared their confidence.
Because outside this bubble, the country feels perched on a knife’s edge. And even inside the bubble, 2025 has been proof enough that nowhere is immune.

marines on the streets
In June, Los Angeles exploded in protests after federal immigration raids rolled through the city. The federal government decided that wasn’t a job for just agents in windbreakers—they sent in the Marines.
Roughly 700 Marines showed up in L.A. under federal orders. Officially, they were only there to “guard federal buildings.” But somehow, at least one civilian ended up detained by Marines outside a federal facility. Funny how quickly guarding turns into grabbing.
And L.A. wasn’t special. By midsummer, Marines were also posted in:
- Chicago – about 400 Marines circling federal courthouses and ICE offices while the city’s sanctuary status became an open sore.
- Portland – around 300 Marines protecting federal property while protesters dusted off their gas masks for yet another season.
- Atlanta – about 250 Marines stationed at federal sites as tempers flared hotter than the Georgia summer.
- Denver – roughly 150 Marines guarding federal buildings while Coloradans tried to decide whether this was happening in real life or a bad episode of Black Mirror.
Different cities, different slogans, same basic photo op: active-duty Marines on American streets.

the legal mess
Critics say these deployments violate the Posse Comitatus Act—the law that’s supposed to keep the U.S. military out of domestic policing. The administration swears up and down that the Marines were only there to “protect property,” as if a few bricks and windows justified combat boots on the pavement.
But when Marines start detaining civilians—like the guy in L.A.—the whole “we’re just here to guard the building” routine starts to look a bit thin.
Now the lawsuits are piling up, and civil liberties groups are sounding the alarm. Because once soldiers start deciding who goes in the paddy wagon, we’re somewhere between a banana republic and a bad Tom Clancy sequel.
Here in California, folks either haven’t heard about any of this—or they’d rather believe it’s fake news. Meanwhile, outside the bubble, the story is different. PrumpTutin’s people are organized, determined, and willing to push boundaries most thought were untouchable.
my worry
So here we are, soaking up the California sun, sampling artisanal olive oil, while Marines are standing guard just miles away. My daughter and her friends have faith that hashtags and voter turnout will save us all. Me? I’m less convinced.
I’ve seen how fast the rules crumble, how a legal line turns from solid to dotted to nonexistent.
I don’t think California alone—or any bubble—can defeat PrumpTutin. Not when Marines are in five American cities under federal orders. Not when laws meant to keep soldiers off Main Street are being tested in courtrooms instead of respected in Washington.
appendix: the posse comitatus act
The Posse Comitatus Act, passed back in 1878, was supposed to keep the military out of civilian life. The idea was simple: armies fight foreign enemies, not American protesters waving cardboard signs.
The law reads:
“Whoever, except in cases and under circumstances expressly authorized by the Constitution or Act of Congress, willfully uses any part of the Army or the Air Force as a posse comitatus or otherwise to execute the laws shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than two years, or both.” — 18 U.S.C. § 1385
The Navy and Marines aren’t named outright, but by tradition and Department of Defense policy, they’re lumped in, too. Unless Congress says otherwise—or the president invokes the Insurrection Act—the military is supposed to stay out of domestic law enforcement.
Yet here we are in 2025, with Marines on the streets of Los Angeles, Chicago, Portland, Atlanta, and Denver. And that civilian detained by Marines in L.A. might end up deciding in court how far a president can go before the Constitution finally taps out.
The bubble feels safe. But 2025 has shown that even here, in the land of vegan donuts and progressive podcasts, the military can show up on city streets—and the laws that are supposed to keep them out might be little more than wishful thinking printed on parchment.
People here like to say, in the words of Martin Luther King Jr., that “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” I sure hope so. Because right now, it looks like somebody’s leaning pretty hard on that arc in the other direction.