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Sometimes the stars align in ways that feel almost scripted. Just ask any T. Rex fan about the remarkable coincidence that unfolded in London’s Maida Vale neighborhood last month — a perfect harmony of past and present that would’ve surely brought a knowing smile to Marc Bolan’s face.

Picture this: On what would’ve been the glam rock pioneer’s birthday, a distinguished blue plaque was being unveiled at 31 Clarendon Gardens. Meanwhile, across town, music historians were preparing to announce something that seemed almost too good to be true — the discovery of a completely unheard T. Rex track from 1975.

The song, “I’m Dazed,” emerged from the depths of time like some long-lost treasure. Martin Barden, working with Demon Music Group, stumbled upon it while digging through old tapes. “When we played the reel and Marc’s voice came through, it was magical,” he recalled, probably understating the goosebump moment that every music archivist dreams about.

What makes this find particularly special? Well, it’s not just some rough demo or half-finished idea. The track features the classic mid-’70s T. Rex lineup in their prime — Bolan with Steve Currie, Gloria Jones, Davey Lutton, and Dino Dines. Recorded between the legendary Château d’Hérouville near Paris and Munich’s Musicland Studios, it’s practically a time capsule of the band at their creative peak.

The blue plaque ceremony itself was quite something. Rick Wakeman CBE — yes, that Rick Wakeman from Yes — led the proceedings with the kind of warmth you’d expect from someone who actually knew Bolan. “Marc was a truly remarkable person,” Wakeman mused, adding with a touch of humor that Bolan would’ve probably written a song about getting his own blue plaque.

That first-floor flat in Maida Vale? It’s practically hallowed ground for T. Rex fans. Between late 1970 and 1972, Bolan crafted some absolute bangers there — “Hot Love,” “Metal Guru,” “20th Century Boy” — before the constant parade of fans outside forced him to find somewhere a bit more private. Eleven top 10 hits in that period alone. Not too shabby for a small flat in West London.

BBC Radio 3’s Petroc Trelawny put it rather nicely: Bolan wasn’t just another hitmaker — he was the glitter-covered revolutionary who basically rewrote the rulebook for ’70s music and style. Four UK Number Ones and three chart-topping albums tell only part of the story. “Electric Warrior” (1971) remains the kind of album that makes modern producers shake their heads in wonder.

The newly discovered “I’m Dazed” has been given some tender loving care by T. Rex superfan Steven Wilson, who’s managed that tricky balance between preserving the vintage vibe while making it sound fresh enough for today’s streaming platforms. Come November 7th, fans can grab a limited edition 7″ single — because some things just deserve to exist in physical form, don’t they?

In an age where seemingly everything’s been found, catalogued, and uploaded, it’s properly exciting when genuine musical treasures surface. Between the blue plaque and this unexpected gift from the vaults, it feels like Marc Bolan’s artistic spirit is alive and kicking — proving that real magic never really fades, it just waits for the right moment to sparkle again.

Musical Magic: From McCartney’s Stage to Broadway’s Latest Gem

Some stories simply refuse to grow old. As spring 2025 unfolds, the entertainment world finds itself celebrating two remarkable examples of musical storytelling that span generations — Paul McCartney’s triumphant Got Back tour and the Broadway adaptation of “Schmigadoon!”

The former Beatle kicked things off at Palm Desert’s Acrisure Arena with the kind of show that defies both time and expectation. Three hours, thirty-three songs, and boundless energy from an 83-year-old artist who’s clearly not done surprising audiences. Opening night brought an unexpected gift — McCartney dusted off “Help!” for its first complete live performance since 1965, played on that same Höfner violin bass that’s been with him since ’61.

The setlist reads like chapters from music history, really. Beatles classics blend seamlessly with Wings hits, while newer material — including “Now and Then,” that bittersweet final Beatles recording from late 2023 — adds fresh layers to an already rich musical tapestry.

There’s something particularly touching about watching McCartney pause mid-show, hands crossed at the wrist atop his bass, just taking in the moment. These quiet beats between songs tell their own story. Music isn’t just what he does — it’s who he is.

Meanwhile, over at the Nederlander Theatre, another kind of musical magic is taking shape. “Schmigadoon!” — that clever Apple TV+ series that captured hearts with its loving send-up of Golden Age musicals — prepares for its Broadway debut. Preview performances begin April 4, with opening night set for April 20.

“It’s a love letter to the Golden Age of movie musicals,” producer Lorne Michaels explains, though that barely scratches the surface of what makes the show tick. Creator Cinco Paul has adapted both book and score for the stage, promising to maintain the charm that made the TV version (starring Keegan-Michael Key and Cecily Strong) such an unexpected delight.

Back on tour, McCartney’s most powerful moments come during tributes to his fallen bandmates. During “Here Today,” penned after John Lennon’s death, even his famously steady voice wavers. After performing “Now and Then,” he calls out, “Thank you for writing that beautiful song, John” — a moment that bridges past and present with heartbreaking clarity.

These parallel celebrations of musical storytelling — McCartney’s tour running through November, “Schmigadoon!” playing through September 6 — remind us how music connects generations. Whether through knowing parody or authentic rock history, these performances prove some artistic traditions don’t just endure — they evolve, finding new life in fresh interpretations.

Perhaps that’s the real magic here. In a world that seems to move faster every day, these timeless stories still have the power to make us pause, reflect, and remember why we fell in love with music in the first place.

Life imitates art in the most delicious way possible — Apple TV+’s “Schmigadoon!” is taking its musical mayhem from screens to stage. The beloved series that lovingly skewered Golden Age musicals is about to become one itself, landing at the Nederlander Theatre in spring 2026.

Talk about meta. A show that started as a playful jab at musical theater conventions is now embracing them full-throttle. (And honestly? It feels absolutely right.)

The original series — think “Brigadoon” after a few espresso shots and a dash of “Black Mirror” — followed two Manhattan doctors who stumble into a town where life plays out like a 1940s musical. Cecily Strong and Keegan-Michael Key led an embarrassment of Broadway riches, including the incomparable Kristin Chenoweth doing what she does best: stealing scenes and hitting notes that’d make dogs jealous.

Smart money’s behind this adaptation, too. Rather than rushing straight to the Great White Way, the show tested its legs at the Kennedy Center earlier this year. Not a bad move, considering the graveyard of screen-to-stage adaptations that weren’t quite ready for primetime — pour one out for “Smash,” which recently joined that particular chorus line.

Emmy-winner Cinco Paul’s expanding the show’s already impressive songbook for its Broadway debut. His original numbers — which channel everything from “Oklahoma!” to “My Fair Lady” with uncanny precision — will finally echo through an honest-to-goodness theater instead of our living rooms. About time, really.

But because no Broadway tale is complete without its share of drama… Enter Patti LuPone, stage left. The theater legend recently spilled some tea about being passed over for season two for being “too old” — proving that even in a magical singing town, Hollywood’s age-old biases can still hit a sour note.

Mark your calendars: previews kick off April 4, 2026, with opening night set for April 20. The limited run wraps September 6, giving theater lovers roughly five months to catch the magic. While the cast list remains under wraps, with SNL guru Lorne Michaels steering the ship, expectations are running higher than a Kristin Chenoweth soprano note.

Wanna secure your spot in Schmigadoon? Tickets drop October 15, with an exclusive presale starting October 14 through the show’s website. No need to get lost in the woods this time — just bring your credit card and a willingness to surrender to the magic of musical theater at its most gloriously self-aware.

Bye weeks in college football have always been a peculiar beast. They’re meant to be these golden opportunities for programs to regroup, recruit, and rebuild — but lately, some interesting choices by major programs have got folks talking. And not always in a good way.

Take Florida’s situation. Billy Napier’s got the Gators sitting at a rather uncomfortable 20-22 record under his watch, and what does he do during their precious bye week? Keeps his coaching staff grounded. No recruiting visits. None. Zero. In the cutthroat world of SEC football, that’s raised more than a few eyebrows.

“A lot of it is where players are playing, who they’re playing,” Napier offered up, trying to explain away the decision. The schedule’s set before the season starts, he says. Sure, that makes sense on paper — but c’mon, this is Florida we’re talking about. The same Florida that’s desperately trying to keep its recruiting momentum rolling with the No. 13 class nationally.

Meanwhile, up in East Lansing, Jonathan Smith and Michigan State are taking a completely different approach. Fresh off getting knocked around by USC, the Spartans turned their bye week into something resembling a football laboratory. Smith didn’t mince words about it either.

“We kind of approached it early in the week to take a deep look at ourselves,” he explained. Monday and Tuesday? Self-scouting. Breaking down tape. Figuring out what’s working and what isn’t. That’s the kind of methodical, roll-up-your-sleeves approach you’d expect from a program trying to right the ship.

The contrast between these two programs couldn’t be more stark. It’s like watching two different philosophies of modern college football playing out in real time. Florida’s sitting back, maybe banking on that second bye week coming up in October (bold strategy, Cotton). Michigan State? They’re attacking their break like they’re preparing for a final exam.

Here’s the thing about Florida’s approach — it’s particularly head-scratching when you consider their defensive line needs. Having the No. 13 recruiting class is nice and all, but in today’s landscape, you can’t just assume those commits are locked in. Not with NIL deals floating around and rivals circling like sharks.

The Spartans, though — they’re juggling multiple balls here. They’re dealing with left tackle Stanton Ramil being out “for closer to a month,” managing various other injuries, and still finding time to do that deep-dive analysis. That’s what these bye weeks are supposed to look like.

Nebraska’s Matt Rhule dropped an interesting nugget about Michigan State’s post-bye week prowess: “Last year, Michigan State coming off the bye, they came out and they beat Iowa in Iowa City.” Anyone who knows college football knows that’s no small feat. Iowa City isn’t exactly known for rolling out the welcome mat for visitors.

Look, there’s no perfect formula for how to use a bye week. Every program’s got its own circumstances, its own fires to put out. But in an era where the transfer portal never sleeps and NIL deals can flip a recruit faster than a pancake at IHOP, Florida’s approach feels… well, let’s just say it’s bold.

Time will tell whether Napier’s strategy pays off or backfires. Maybe we’ll all look back in December and say he was three steps ahead of everyone else. Or maybe this’ll be another head-scratcher in a season that’s already got Gator fans chewing their nails.

One thing’s for certain — in college football, standing still often means falling behind. And in 2025’s landscape, with the expanded playoff format looming and conference realignment still sending shockwaves through the sport, these decisions carry more weight than ever.

Television’s coziest family reunion is cooking up something special this fall, as JoAnna Garcia Swisher prepares to join forces with her former TV mom Reba McEntire on NBC’s “Happy’s Place.” The reunion — nearly two decades after their “Reba” sitcom days — feels like finding that perfect vintage designer piece in the back of your closet: familiar, fabulous, and somehow even better with age.

Swisher’s new role as Kenzie, a Knoxville-based social media influencer, couldn’t be further from her former character Cheyenne’s teenage drama queen days. (And darlings, hasn’t the entertainment landscape shifted dramatically since 2001?) The dynamic promises to be deliciously different this time around, with McEntire’s Bobbie navigating the treacherous waters of viral content and Instagram aesthetics — a plot twist that feels almost too perfectly 2025.

Season 2 kicks off November 7, serving up fresh drama at the inherited tavern where Bobbie’s already juggling an unexpected half-sister situation. Because apparently, one family bombshell wasn’t quite enough to keep viewers clutching their pearls.

“Happy’s Place” has been quietly assembling quite the “Reba” alumni association. Steve Howey and Christopher Rich already popped by during the freshman season — though sadly, no one broke into an impromptu rendition of “Survivor.” The show’s becoming the equivalent of a Hollywood high school reunion, minus the awkward small talk and questionable life choices.

This latest season teases a “long-buried secret” that’ll test loyalties faster than a trending cancel culture hashtag. Between managing the tavern, dealing with family drama, and now navigating social media influence… well, honey, it’s enough to make even the most seasoned showrunner reach for a stiff drink.

What truly sparkles about this particular reunion is the genuine warmth between these former co-stars. Their on-screen chemistry during “Reba” wasn’t just clever editing and good lighting — it was the real deal, helping Swisher snag that Teen Choice Award nomination and cementing the show’s place in the sitcom hall of fame.

Meanwhile, Swisher’s been busier than a Hollywood agent during pilot season. She’s currently pulling double duty on Netflix’s “Sweet Magnolias” Season 5 — not just starring but sliding into the director’s chair for two episodes. Add hosting “The Ultimatum: Queer Love” and running Rolling Clover productions… Honestly, when does she sleep?

The stellar ensemble cast rounds out this comfort food feast perfectly — Belissa Escobedo, Melissa Peterman, Pablo Castelblanco, Tokala Black Elk, and Rex Linn create the perfect backdrop for this latest reunion. It’s like watching your favorite diner get a Michelin star makeover — still cozy, but with an extra dash of sophistication.

“Happy’s Place” keeps serving up that perfect blend of nostalgia and novelty — proving that sometimes the best new stories come wrapped in familiar packaging. And isn’t that just the kind of comfort viewing we’re all craving these days?

Darlings, let’s talk about the absolute gem that dropped this week on Only Murders in the Building. “Flatbush” isn’t just another episode — it’s a masterclass in storytelling that had this jaded entertainment columnist reaching for both champagne and tissues.

The incomparable Meryl Streep (who, let’s be honest, could read a takeout menu and still deserve an Emmy) returns to devastating effect. Her Loretta, newly homeless after an electrical fire claims her apartment, brings a vulnerability that’s almost too raw to watch. Almost.

Here’s where things get deliciously complicated. Martin Short’s Oliver Putnam — usually the show’s reliable source of theatrical bombast — peels back his carefully crafted persona to reveal something unexpectedly tender. The revelation of his foster home past and a heartbreaking failed theatrical debut (one line in “Oliver!” that never made it to opening night) showcases Short’s dramatic range in ways that shame the Academy for overlooking him all these years.

Meanwhile, back at the Arconia… Steve Martin ventures into the treacherous waters of senior dating apps (because apparently even in 2025, finding love online is still a minefield). What starts as endearingly awkward takes a sinister turn when — surprise, sweeties — he’s being catfished by none other than Christoph Waltz’s delightfully menacing Bash Steed. The threatening message? Pure noir perfection.

Speaking of perfect… Selena Gomez and Beanie Feldstein’s confrontation scene? Electric. The revelation that THĒ’s hit “Wish That You Were Me” was written about Mabel rather than for her? *chef’s kiss* That’s the kind of plot twist that keeps viewers coming back for more.

But wait — there’s more. Remember those supposedly murderous widows? Turns out Dianne Wiest and Téa Leoni’s characters are about as sinister as a community theater production of “The Sound of Music.” (Though Wiest’s comedic timing? Divine. Absolutely divine.)

The episode wraps with a killer reveal connecting Bash Steed to the security footage tampering. It’s the kind of setup that promises fireworks ahead — and honey, in this show, the fireworks always deliver.

“Flatbush” reminds us why Only Murders continues to dominate our streaming queues three years in. It’s smart without being pretentious, funny without being cruel, and mysterious without losing its heart. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to rewatch that Martin Short monologue. For research purposes, naturally.

The unveiling of Tina Turner’s bronze statue in Brownsville, Tennessee should have been a moment of triumph — a hometown celebration of the Queen of Rock ‘n’ Roll’s extraordinary legacy. Instead, the 10-foot monument has become an unexpected source of controversy, leaving fans wondering how a tribute to such an iconic figure could miss the mark so spectacularly.

Standing near Turner’s alma mater, Carver High School, in Heritage Park, the statue certainly commands attention. But that’s about where the praise ends. Social media erupted with a mix of disbelief and dismay almost immediately after the unveiling, with reactions ranging from measured critique to outright horror. “A travesty,” declared one X user, while another didn’t mince words: “This is a hate crime.”

Atlanta-based sculptor Fred Ajanogha had noble intentions. He aimed to capture Turner’s electric stage presence, focusing on her dynamic movements and that legendary hair he likened to a lion’s mane. Yet somewhere between concept and execution, something went terribly wrong.

The timing couldn’t feel more bitter. Turner’s passing just last year at 83 left an irreplaceable void in the music world. Here was a woman who transformed herself from Anna Mae Bullock — a small-town Tennessee girl — into an international phenomenon who sold over 100 million records. Her story wasn’t just about music; it was about reinvention, resilience, and raw determination.

Ford’s Good Neighbor Plan for West Tennessee contributed $150,000 to fund the statue. “We are proud to support this statue in the community where Tina Turner’s journey began,” said Ford Community Relations Director Gabby Bruno in what now feels like an awkward statement of premature celebration.

What makes this artistic misfire particularly stinging is how it fails to capture the essence of a woman who meant so much to so many. Turner wasn’t just another singer — she was a force of nature who shattered barriers of race and gender, overcame domestic abuse, and proved the industry wrong when it tried to write her off. Five platinum albums and six top 10 Billboard Hot 100 hits barely scratch the surface of her impact.

“They don’t even care how they make our icons look anymore,” one social media user lamented, touching on a deeper wound about how society chooses to memorialize its cultural giants. The controversy raises uncomfortable questions about artistic interpretation versus historical accuracy, especially when it comes to honoring figures who’ve shaped our cultural landscape.

For someone whose signature song proclaimed she was “Simply the Best,” this tribute feels anything but. The statue stands as an awkward reminder that capturing greatness in bronze requires more than good intentions — it demands an understanding of the spirit that made the subject legendary in the first place.

As Brownsville grapples with this unexpected controversy heading into 2025, the statue serves as an unintended metaphor for the challenges of preserving legacy. While Turner’s impact on music, culture, and society remains untouchable, this particular tribute strikes a painfully discordant note in what should have been a harmonious celebration of her extraordinary life.

Perhaps the most fitting tribute to Turner isn’t found in bronze at all, but in the way her music continues to move new generations, her story inspires those facing seemingly insurmountable odds, and her spirit lives on in every performer who dares to be as unapologetically authentic as she was.

In an era where social media algorithms thrive on conflict, Swedish pop powerhouse Zara Larsson is breaking through the noise with a refreshingly candid take on artist relationships. As Tate McRae’s ‘Miss Possessive’ tour wrapped its North American leg at Los Angeles’s storied Kia Forum, Larsson chose to spotlight something far more meaningful than the usual tour highlights — the genuine friendship blooming behind the scenes.

“It’s been strange seeing some people putting us against each other when we’re just two pop girls who love and support each other back stage!” The statement, shared through Larsson’s Instagram, cuts straight through the manufactured drama that too often dominates pop culture discourse. Coming from an artist who’s weathered her fair share of industry storms, the words carry particular weight.

The timing couldn’t be more poignant. Both artists are riding career-defining waves — Larsson fresh off her fifth studio album release, while McRae’s “So Close To What” has critics buzzing about its clever fusion of nostalgic pop elements with contemporary club beats. Perhaps that’s exactly why some fans felt compelled to create rivalry where none exists.

But here’s the thing about authentic artist relationships: they’re messy, complex, and rarely fit into neat social media narratives. Larsson’s been consistently vocal about her admiration for McRae, telling Variety earlier this year, “I’m so excited about the new pop girls. Tate McRae, I’m obsessed with her.” That kind of genuine enthusiasm doesn’t just materialize for a publicity stunt.

The Swedish star didn’t stop at surface-level pleasantries, either. Her praise extended beyond McRae’s obvious talents to highlight the often-overlooked backbone of any successful tour — the team behind the scenes. “Not only are you insanely talented… but you have an incredible team around you.” It’s the kind of industry insight that speaks volumes about both artists’ professional acumen.

Night after night, the tour showcased how female artists can elevate each other while maintaining their distinct artistic voices. In an industry that’s historically pitted women against each other (remember those endless Madonna vs. Cyndi Lauper debates?), this collaborative spirit feels like a breath of fresh air.

“You set the bar. You set the standard. You are a super star,” Larsson declared about McRae. These aren’t just empty platitudes — they’re a deliberate challenge to the toxic fan behavior that’s become all too common in pop music circles. As streaming numbers continue to dominate industry metrics in 2025, it’s refreshing to see artists prioritizing genuine connections over chart competitions.

The message resonates particularly strongly given the current state of pop music, where social media algorithms often reward conflict over collaboration. Yet here’s Larsson, using her platform to demonstrate how mutual respect and individual success aren’t mutually exclusive concepts.

Sometimes the most powerful statements in pop music come not from carefully crafted PR campaigns, but from artists simply being real with their audience. In choosing to address toxic fan behavior head-on while celebrating authentic artistic connections, Larsson’s showing exactly what modern pop leadership looks like — honest, supportive, and refreshingly drama-free.

Geelong’s Mad Monday celebrations took an unexpected turn into controversy this week, proving once again that social media and post-grand final festivities don’t always mix well. What should’ve been a low-key gathering to process their disappointing loss instead morphed into a digital spectacle — with star midfielder Bailey Smith’s Instagram stories stealing the spotlight for all the wrong reasons.

Smith, sporting a Brad Pitt-inspired look from “Legends of the Fall,” seemed determined to keep his 413,000 Instagram followers entertained. That massive following — the biggest of any current AFL player — probably should’ve warranted more careful consideration of his posts. Instead, things went sideways.

The real trouble kicked off when Smith shared a photo embracing captain Patrick Dangerfield, who’d dressed as a “Yellowstone” character. Rather than leave it at that, Smith couldn’t resist adding a “Brokeback Mountain” reference — a choice that quickly drew fire from Mitch Brown, the AFL’s first openly bisexual player.

“In all seriousness though, guys do better,” Brown shot back. “Last time I checked, losing a grand final doesn’t make you gay, but being homophobic definitely makes you a loser.” The rebuke landed hard, but Smith wasn’t done making waves.

In perhaps the day’s most eyebrow-raising moment, Smith dropped a quickly-deleted post about Carlton forward Charlie Curnow: “We’re taking the chopper in next year @charliecurnow.” Talk about poor timing — with rumors already swirling about Curnow potentially heading to Geelong, the post set the AFL gossip mill into overdrive.

The day’s mishaps didn’t stop there. When teammate Max Holmes showed up dressed as respected journalist Caroline Wilson, Smith couldn’t help but complicate matters. His addition of a suggestive emoji and comment that Wilson “had never looked better” struck a particularly sour note, especially given Wilson’s recent criticism of Smith’s F-bomb incident with a female photographer.

Football pundit Kane Cornes didn’t hold back in his assessment. “I thought that was one of the more embarrassing days at the Geelong footy club that I’ve seen in a while,” he declared on Trade Radio. His suggestion? “Let’s just turn up in a shirt and some jeans and have a few quiet beers and celebrate a grand final loss where we got smashed in the second half.”

Adding to the theatrical nature of the day, Ollie Dempsey and Sam De König rolled up in an Aston Martin, brandishing brown paper bags with fake Cotton On branding — a cheeky dig at long-running conspiracy theories about Geelong’s salary cap management.

The whole affair serves as a stark reminder of social media’s double-edged nature in professional sports. One moment’s attempt at entertainment can quickly spiral into controversy, leaving clubs to manage the fallout from what should’ve been a simple end-of-season gathering. Perhaps next year’s Mad Monday might benefit from being just a touch less… mad.

In a shocking development that reads more like a political thriller than reality, former South Carolina Republican lawmaker RJ May has admitted to distributing hundreds of videos depicting child sexual abuse — a revelation that’s left the state’s political establishment reeling. The fall from grace couldn’t be more dramatic for the 38-year-old conservative firebrand, who, just months ago, stood on the House floor preaching about protecting children.

The details? Well, they’re enough to turn your stomach.

May appeared before U.S. District Judge Cameron McGowan Currie this week, pleading guilty to five counts of distributing child sexual abuse materials. Each count carries up to 20 years behind bars — though whether he’ll face the maximum 100-year sentence remains to be seen. The timing couldn’t be more pointed: his sentencing is scheduled for January 14, right as the 2026 legislative session kicks off.

Perhaps the most disturbing aspect of the case is the sheer audacity of May’s actions. Using the screen name “joebidennnn69” (yes, really), the former legislator embarked on what prosecutors dubbed a “five-day child pornography spree.” The scope? A staggering 220 files shared through Kik’s social media platform. U.S. Attorney Bryan Stirling could barely maintain his composure while describing the materials to reporters outside the federal courthouse.

The digital trail May left behind proves particularly damning. Records show him simultaneously conducting legislative business — firing off work emails and handling calls — while trafficking in these horrific materials. In one exchange that seems almost too brazen to be true, he explicitly requested “Bad moms. Bad dads. Bad pre teens” from other Kik users.

But wait, there’s more.

Prosecutors unveiled evidence of multiple trips to Colombia under an alias, where May allegedly engaged in sexual activities with what appeared to be underage women. While these incidents didn’t make it into the formal charges, they paint a broader — and darker — picture of predatory behavior extending far beyond the digital realm.

The political fallout has been swift and severe. May — a National Rifle Association member and political consultant who helped establish the Freedom Caucus — now faces a lifetime ban on voting, holding office, carrying firearms, or serving on juries. It’s a stunning reversal for someone who spent three terms pushing fellow Republicans toward more conservative positions.

The investigation’s reach extends beyond May himself. Authorities have identified 21 of the 62 children depicted in the videos, with victims scattered across multiple countries. “Every download revictimizes these children and fuels this evil industry,” Stirling emphasized, his words carrying extra weight given the perpetrator’s former position of public trust.

May’s guilty plea came after an interesting twist — he’d initially tried to represent himself at a Wednesday pretrial hearing. (Spoiler alert: not the best legal strategy.) His attempts to suppress evidence, including the warrant used to search his devices, were promptly shut down by Judge Currie.

The vacant seat left by May’s disgrace has sparked a special election, drawing five Republicans and one Democrat into the race. The GOP primary’s set for October 21, with the general election following on December 23 — though let’s be honest, May’s shadow will loom large over that district long after voters pick his replacement.

It’s a stark reminder that sometimes the loudest voices championing moral causes harbor the darkest secrets. As South Carolina’s political establishment grapples with this betrayal, one can’t help but wonder: how many more wolves lurk in shepherds’ clothing?