Stephen Miller’s fear factory targets California leaders

Stephen Miller, our self-appointed prophet of jurisprudence, has descended once more from his ivory tower, pen in hand, to dispatch 249 missives of divine judgment to the unwashed, lawless hordes of California and beyond.

These epistles, dripping with righteous indignation and the ink of a bureaucracy in heat, are not merely letters—they are commandments, etched in the stone of Miller’s towering ego. Each one a masterpiece of legalese, a love letter to authoritarianism cloaked in the guise of “compliance.”

Officials who received the threats included Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass, Los Angeles Police Department Chief Jim McDonnell, San Diego County Supervisor Nora Vargas and California Atty. Gen. Rob Bonta, among others.

Take, for instance, the searing prose directed at Attorney General Rob Bonta, a man guilty of the heinous crime of… upholding his state’s laws? Miller’s quill trembles with the fury of a man who believes the Constitution itself bends to his will.

“Your rhetoric encourages defiance,” the letter screams, as though words have suddenly become more treacherous than cages or walls. What an audacious crime, to speak of compassion in a world that demands cruelty.

Migrants wait in line while California border activists organize the group to enter the U.S. and seek asylum through the Chaparral entryway in Tijuana, Mexico Dec. 22, 2022./Carlos A. Moreno for CalMatters

And yet, the melodrama doesn’t stop there. Miller, flanked by his merry band of legal apostles, promises fire and brimstone for these heretical sanctuary city sinners. “You could face criminal prosecution!” the letters howl.

Ah, yes, nothing stirs the heart like the specter of federal agents dragging city officials into courtrooms for the unpardonable sin of refusing to turn their communities into dystopian border checkpoints. How very democratic.

The letters, all dated Dec. 23, state that people living in the country illegally are subject to removal and that it is a crime to conceal, harbor or shield them. “The fact of the matter is that you and the other officials who support or enforce sanctuary laws, policies, and regulations have a very personal stake in the matter — you each could face criminal prosecution and civil liability for your illegal acts,” the letter concludes.

Not to be outdone, Tom Homan—Trump’s incoming “border czar,” a title that screams subtlety and restraint—chimes in on Fox News, wagging his finger at city officials like a particularly sanctimonious schoolmaster.

“Don’t test us,” he warns, his words as empty and menacing as a paper tiger in a storm. One can almost hear the ominous music swell in the background as he paints a future where deportations become reality television and morality is decided by Nielsen ratings.

But the pièce de résistance must be the response from California’s officials, their voices tinged with weary defiance. Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass calls the letter what it is: “wrong on public safety and wrong on the law.”

Meanwhile, Nora Vargas delivers a quiet, composed retort that would make any tyrant gnash their teeth: “We will not allow local resources to be used for actions that separate families.” How quaint! Imagine standing against the machinery of fear with nothing but principle—what an un-American idea.

“While we are unable to comment on the specifics of the letter, we want to be clear: SB 54 was upheld by the courts during the first Trump administration, and it prevents the use of state and local resources for federal immigration enforcement with certain narrow exceptions,” Cal AG Bonta’s statement said.

“SB 54 does nothing, however, to block federal agencies from conducting immigration enforcement themselves. California will continue to comply with all applicable state and federal laws, and we expect all local law enforcement agencies to do the same.”

And so, as Miller and his ilk clutch their pearls and gnash their teeth over sanctuary policies, California soldiers on, obstinate in its refusal to transform into the dystopian nightmare Miller dreams of. One can almost hear him scribbling his next letter, dripping with threats and legal citations, a testament to his belief that fear is a better builder than hope.

It would be comical, were it not so grotesque. One man’s crusade to subjugate an entire state under his warped vision of “law and order,” all while masquerading as a champion of justice. But then, Miller has always been adept at playing the part of the villain—one imagines he writes these letters by candlelight, cackling softly as he drafts each sentence with the care of a poet penning a sonnet to despair.

California, it seems, will continue to disappoint him. How tragic—for him. How hopeful—for the rest of us.

Be the first to comment on "Stephen Miller’s fear factory targets California leaders"

Leave a comment