There are moments in history when coincidence ceases to be coincidence and becomes a pattern written in blood. Last night, April 24, 2026 at the Washington, D.C. Hilton for the third known time, President Trump narrowly escaped assassination. The annual White House Correspondents Dinner (WHCD), held in the same Washington Hilton where President Ronald Reagan was nearly murdered in 1981, another armed madman allegedly surged toward the security perimeter with firearms and knives while the President, the First Lady, and senior officials, were rushed to safety the pampered press corps feasted below in black tie luxury.

The symbolism is impossible to ignore. The same hotel. Another Republican president. Another man hated with a pathological intensity by the left. Another would be killer seeking to turn politics into execution. In 1981, Reagan stepped outside the Hilton and was met by gunfire. A bullet ricocheted into his chest. He nearly died. America watched in horror as a president fought for his life. Reagan survived because of courage, speed, and providence. Now, forty five years later, the Washington Hilton again became the stage upon which a president was hunted.

The media class, of course, will prattle endlessly about “heated rhetoric” while pretending they themselves have not spent years marinating the public in venom. They have called Trump a dictator, a fascist, a threat to democracy, a monster, a tyrant, and every other hysterical slander in the lexicon of political psychosis. They have fantasized openly about his imprisonment, his ruin, his humiliation, and yes, his death. When one sows dragon’s teeth, one should not be shocked when armed lunatics spring from the soil.

This was not the first attempt. In Butler, Pennsylvania, an assassin’s bullet tore through the crowd and murdered Cory Comperatore, a father and fireman whose only crime was supporting the man he believed could save the country. He died shielding his family. His blood is on the hands of every demagogue who transformed political disagreement into moral permission for violence.

There have now been three active shooting assassination attempts aimed at President Trump. Think about that. Three times the leading political figure in the United States has faced gunfire or armed attack. Three times millions of Americans have watched the republic tremble. Three times the same sanctimonious class that lectures the nation about “norms” has responded with shrugs, excuses, or grotesque silence.

Reports indicate the latest attacker, Cole Thomas Allen age 31, reached the security checkpoint area near the ballroom entrance before being stopped. A United States Secret Service (USSS) officer was struck in body armor and survived. The President and First Lady were evacuated unharmed as were the other attendees. Once again, brave men ran toward danger while others ducked beneath tables.

And what of the assembled journalists, those powdered courtiers of the regime? Accounts indicate that as confusion spread and people fled, some in the ballroom made certain to grab expensive bottles of wine on the way out. There, in one absurd image, is the modern press in full portrait.

A president targeted. Gunfire in the air. Panic in the room. And the self appointed guardians of democracy clutching vintage bottles as they scurried for safety. Nero had his fiddle. Washington has its Chardonnay.

The left has spent a decade cultivating death fantasies which I have written about in the past on several occasions. They fantasize about handcuffs, prison cells, exile, bankruptcy, and martyrdom by bullet. They cheer every indictment, every raid, every humiliation, every threat. They dehumanize not merely Trump, but the millions who support him. They call ordinary Americans extremists for wanting borders, jobs, safety, and sovereignty. Then they act bewildered when deranged men decide to become executioners. No serious nation can survive if one side treats elections as optional and assassination as understandable.

President Reagan survived because America still possessed a moral center strong enough to recoil in unison from violence. Today the country is more fractured, more poisoned, more corrupted by partisan hatred than at any point in modern memory. Yet President Trump still stands. He has endured fabricated scandals, impeachments, prosecutions, censorship, bankrupt attempts at ruin, and now repeated assassination attempts.

They have thrown everything at him except honesty. And still he rises. This third brush with death should sober the nation, though many are too intoxicated by hatred to be sobered by anything. If the political class continues to treat Trump as something less than human, unstable men will continue to hear the invitation hidden inside the rhetoric.

The Washington Hilton has now twice witnessed attempts to alter history by gunfire. The first failed. The second failed. The third failed. And every time they miss, the resolve of the American people only hardens.

Washington didn’t legalize marijuana—but what it did may prove far more important. By rescheduling certain cannabis activities into Schedule III, the federal government has quietly created something the industry has lacked for decades: a legitimate, structured pathway forward. This isn’t the end of prohibition, but it is the beginning of integration. And for those paying attention, it opens the door to a new kind of market—one that blends state medical programs, federal oversight, and emerging pharmaceutical potential into a hybrid system unlike anything we’ve seen before. President Trump must the credit for this vital policy change. I have advocated for this decision since he was elelcted in 2016 when I formed the United States Cannabis Coalition.

At its core, this decision recognizes a reality that has existed for years: cannabis already operates as a medical system in dozens of states. By allowing state-licensed operators to pursue DEA registration, the federal government is no longer standing entirely outside that system—it is beginning to interface with it. That shift alone is transformative. It gives compliant operators a path to legitimacy, access to standard business deductions, and the ability to participate in a federally recognized supply chain. For an industry long constrained by legal uncertainty and punitive tax treatment, this is a foundational upgrade.

There will, of course, be winners and losers. The winners are those prepared to operate within a structured, compliant framework: state-licensed medical cannabis companies, research-driven operators, and organizations capable of meeting DEA standards. They now have a pathway to evolve beyond the limitations of state-only markets. The losers are those who remain outside that framework—particularly segments of the hemp-derived cannabinoid market that have thrived in regulatory gray zones. As federal policy becomes more defined, ambiguity becomes risk, and informality becomes harder to sustain.

But focusing only on winners and losers misses the larger point. What this order really creates is opportunity—specifically, the opportunity to build a new category of regulated cannabis products that sits somewhere between traditional state dispensary models and fully FDA-approved pharmaceuticals. For the first time, a cannabis operator could, in theory, obtain DEA registration, produce standardized products, and distribute them within a controlled medical framework. These products may not carry FDA-approved indications, but they exist within a federally recognized scheduling system and can be prescribed, tracked, and dispensed under Schedule III rules.

This is where the real inflection point lies. The President Trump is effectively allowing the emergence of a hybrid system—one that does not replace the FDA, but operates alongside it. FDA-approved cannabis drugs will continue to represent the highest standard for national pharmaceutical distribution, with full clinical validation and broad market access. But beneath that layer, a secondary system can develop: one grounded in state medical programs, enabled by DEA registration, and governed by controlled substance rules rather than full FDA drug approval. It is a model that resembles compounded pharmaceuticals or other physician-directed therapies, where medical judgment and regulatory oversight coexist without requiring full premarket approval for every formulation.

For state medical programs, this is a profound shift in power. They are no longer isolated experiments operating in tension with federal law. Instead, they become the foundation of a federally recognized supply chain. States with robust licensing systems, established operators, and research capabilities are now positioned to lead—not just locally, but nationally. They can become centers of production, research, and clinical development, feeding into a broader ecosystem that includes both traditional healthcare and emerging cannabis therapeutics.

International obligations and compliance requirements will ensure that this system is tightly controlled. DEA registration, quota systems, anti-diversion measures, and reporting requirements will shape how the market develops. But those controls should not be mistaken for limitations alone—they are also what enable legitimacy. They provide the structure necessary for capital formation, institutional participation, and long-term stability. In short, they transform cannabis from a fragmented industry into a regulated sector capable of scaling responsibly.

The strategic implications are significant. Cannabis is no longer confined to a binary choice between prohibition and full FDA pharmaceutical approval. Instead, it now occupies a middle ground—a regulated, medically oriented category with room for innovation, physician involvement, and product development. This hybrid model could accelerate research, expand patient access, and allow operators to develop therapies in a more iterative, real-world environment.

The cannabis industry hasn’t just been rescheduled—it has been repositioned. The federal government has moved from opposition to engagement, from exclusion to structured participation. For operators willing to meet the moment, this is more than a regulatory change. It is the beginning of a new phase—one defined not by uncertainty, but by the opportunity to build something durable, credible, and deeply integrated into the future of American healthcare.

Cory Mills, who I have written about recently is no stranger to controversy. There are many sins in public life. Corruption can be prosecuted. Cowardice can be exposed. Vanity can be mocked. But there is a rarer and fouler offense reserved for those who plunder the sacred esteem owed to America’s fighting men. It is the act of adorning oneself in laurels watered by another man’s blood. It is stolen valor, and the allegations now swirling around Cory Mills demand the full glare of public scrutiny.

The opposition research report provided to me dated April 19, 2026 devotes substantial attention to allegations that Mills embellished or misrepresented aspects of his military record, particularly surrounding a Bronze Star Medal (BSM) awarded retroactively in 2021 for conduct in 2003 serving in Baghdad, Iraq as a Medical Treatment Specialist. The report states that Mills has claimed he saved at least three servicemen, identified as Alan Babin, Joe Heit, and Joseph Ferrand. It then states none those men have any recollection of Mills. The report further states that Army Form 638, the nomination paperwork tied to the award, bears the signature of then Brigade Commander Arnold N. Gordon Bray, but that the retired commander reportedly told multiple outlets he did not sign that recommendation for Cory Mills. If true, these are not trivial discrepancies. They are not resume padding. They are not harmless vanity. They strike at the sacred marrow of military honor.

Stolen valor is a crime and involves the fraudulent claim(s), exaggeration(s), or appropriation of military service, rank, medals, heroism, or battlefield deeds in order to obtain prestige, money, office, influence, or admiration. It is the moral equivalent of grave robbing. It attempts to seize, for personal gain, honors paid for by the agony and blood of others.

The Stolen Valor Act, enacted in revised form in 2013 after constitutional litigation over earlier versions of the law, makes it a federal crime to fraudulently claim certain military decorations or medals with intent to obtain money, property, or another tangible benefit. The law covers prestigious awards such as the Medal of Honor, Silver Star, Bronze Star with valor distinction, Purple Heart, and others. Mere lying, while contemptible, is not always enough under the statute. Fraud tied to tangible gain is the critical element. That legal distinction matters. There is a difference between what may be criminal under statute and what may be morally unforgivable. In the case of Congressman Mills, it seems to me that he is both criminally liable for violating federal law and the lie itself is simply a reprehensible and reckless act which no man with any decency would ever commit.

If a man falsely inflates military deeds in order to win office, build a business, secure donations, enhance reputation, or posture as a warrior before voters, then he has entered dangerous terrain where ethics, law, and public trust collide. The public is entitled to ask whether heroic claims were true, whether documents were authentic, and whether honors were used as a ladder to power.

This is why the allegations surrounding Mills are so serious. His military identity has not been incidental to his career. It has been central. The warrior image has functioned like a gilded façade on the front of a building. If the façade is counterfeit, then the structure behind it becomes suspect.

The travesty of violating The Stolen Valor Act is that that are veterans buried in quiet cemeteries from Arlington to Normandy, from the Pacific to Fallujah, whose legacies are enshrined in nothing but their own blood given to this nation. That blood is their signature across more than 250 years of American history. They signed no book deal. They filed no press release. They asked for no applause. They simply gave. And they asked for nothing in return.

Being American is a gift purchased repeatedly for us by men who never came home, by widows who buried their youth being handed folded flags while Taps plays softly, by mothers who learned grief before dawn, by fathers who stared at empty chairs for the rest of their days. To counterfeit military honor is to spit into that inheritance.

We have seen public examples before. Men have falsely worn ribbons they never earned. Politicians have embellished deployments. Pretenders have donned uniforms at charity events and veterans gatherings hoping to harvest applause like thieves harvesting crops they never planted. Some have been prosecuted when money or benefits were involved. Others escaped criminal liability but were rightly destroyed by public contempt. Because honor is not merely legal. It is civilizational.

If the allegations against Mills are false, then they should be rebutted with documents, witnesses, and clarity. If they are true, then no speechwriter, consultant, or donor can launder the stain. One cannot forge courage in a printer tray. One cannot photocopy gallantry. One cannot fabricate the sound of incoming fire or the shear terror of a battlefield medic tending the torn flesh or missing limbs of dying Americans.

The opposition report says the men Mills claimed to have saved do not remember him. It says the general whose signature appears on the nomination paperwork denied signing it. Those are thunderclaps, not whispers.

The nation must never become numb to this species of fraud. A people who shrug at stolen valor as if it’s no big deal will eventually shrug at all honor. Then medals become trinkets, service becomes theater, and patriotism becomes costume jewelry. America deserves better. Veterans deserve better. Our dead – those who President Lincoln said “gave the last full measure of devotion” at Gettysburg deserve better.

The glories of Lexington, Gettysburg, 1812, the trenches, Belleau Wood, Normandy, the Chosin Reservoir, Khe Sanh, Somalia, Fallujah, Tikrit, Kabul, Jalalabad, and countless unnamed fields were not handed to us by charlatans. They were earned by men who stood firm while hell itself opened at their feet.

Do not squander that inheritance. Do not cheapen that gift. Do not permit peacocks to strut in the feathers of eagles. Stolen valor, to some, is tantamount to treason itself. As it should be.