How a viral video exposed the fall — and rise? — of California



Social media often serves as a cultural barometer, providing useful insight into cultural trends and their shifts. Consider a song parody video that recently went viral. “California Freedom” is an AI-generated satirical reimagining of the 1960s classic “California Dreamin’” by the Mamas and the Papas. Remember that one?

The original song painted California as a paradisiacal escape from the drab and dreary East Coast, a dream only a lucky few could call their home: “All the leaves are brown, and the sky is gray. I’ve been for a walk on a winter’s day. I’d be safe and warm if I was in L.A. — California dreamin’, on such a winter’s day.”

California Freedom gets closer every day as locals rise to the challenge and opportunity in front of them.

The song predates the internet era, but its imagery is timeless: golden sunshine, palm trees, beaches, teens in drop-top cars cruising down Sunset Boulevard. It depicted California as a place of effortless joy — life as it ought to be.

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This is a starkly different California. The scenes are familiar but jarring: riots, wildfires, corrupt officials with clown faces, piles of money from China and other state malefactors. Set to the same tune, the new lyrics deliver a biting contrast:

Our governor’s a clown, so’s the mayor of L.A. Corruption at the top, arrogance on display. Always assumed we would conform — we’re finally awake. California freedom gets closer every day ...

At first glance, this parody video might seem dark and pessimistic, a major fall away from the sunshine of the original. But the opposite is true. The Mamas and the Papas’ version is the one with a sad, nostalgic, depressed message despite its lovely harmonies and lilting flute interlude. The writer is resigned, stuck. He has little agency in his condition. He tells us:

Stopped into a church I passed along the way. Got down on my knees, and I pretended to pray. You know the preacher liked the cold, he knows I’m gonna stay ... if I didn’t tell her I could leave today… California dreamin’ on such a winter’s day ...

The lead singer contributed nothing to the California dream he longed for and felt no control over his own life. Many in his generation shared that attitude. Baby Boomers who came of age in the mid-1960s soaked up messages that told them they were powerless over their future. They grew up and raised children with little resilience, unprepared to face adversity.

These were the kids who never walked alone in the woods or dug up worms by hand. They grew into college students who needed “safe spaces” and coloring books to cope with opposing viewpoints. They are the fragile offspring of a generation that surrendered its agency — and passed along the habit.

RELATED: LA wildfires point to a long list of failures by California authorities

Photo by Mario Tama/Getty Images

But the “California Freedom” video tells a different story. Early on, the bear from the state flag rears up, growls, and bares its teeth — startling Nancy Pelosi. We see ICE and law enforcement pushing back on rioters. And after a litany of the corrupt and destructive acts of key state leaders, the original song’s flute solo plays once again — but this time, Donald Trump is shown performing it in front of California’s most iconic and breathtaking landscapes.

Trump playing the flute may draw laughs — a wink at his claim of childhood musical talent — but the image carries weight. His administration has moved swiftly and forcefully to restore order where leftist leaders welcomed chaos and destruction. Through initiatives like the Department of Government Efficiency and budgetary reform, Trump has choked off taxpayer funds to activist groups pushing bloated, often corrupt government control over everyday life.

The video places Trump against California’s most iconic landscapes — redwoods, poppy fields, the Golden Gate — transforming a moment of satire into something more. It’s not just a gag. It’s a statement: California’s promise still lives. Freedom, prosperity, and integrity don’t flow from bureaucrats or ideologues. They come from the land itself — and the people who choose to defend it.

The video speaks clearly: We have agency. California doesn’t have to remain broken. Beneath the corruption, arrogance, and engineered collapse lies a chance to rebuild. The bear — California’s symbol — rises, growls, and shows its teeth. And through the noise, the music plays again. Behind the drug camps and trash-choked boulevards, the state’s beauty and strength still hum with life.

This energy, stronger than COVID lockdowns that crushed working people while Gavin Newsom dined at the French Laundry, signals something new. The future is coming — and it looks nothing like the ruins left behind.

I first traveled to the San Francisco Bay Area in the early 1970s to meet my fiancé’s family, and I fell in love immediately with the land and the sea. Later, while living in Silicon Valley, we explored the state whenever possible. In the L.A. area, I walked the ocean paths often.

What happened to California in the decades since grieves me. It’s one reason I refused to retire there.

But now, a new generation offers hope. Young people inspired by Trump are shedding the passive fragility their parents too often embraced and indulged. They’re building a different California — one rooted not in globalist pretensions or bureaucratic arrogance but in the sea, the mountains, and the enduring beauty of the land itself.

California freedom gets closer every day as locals rise to the challenge and seize the opportunity in front of them.

Kevin Briggs: A bridge of hope for those without it



The moment Ken Baldwin jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge one August morning in 1985, he was consumed with regret. "I instantly realized that everything in my life that I'd thought was unfixable was totally fixable — except for having just jumped," he later told the New Yorker.

Miraculously, Baldwin survived; the vast majority of those who jump — some 1,500 since the bridge opened in 1937 — do not. It takes four seconds to reach the surface of the Golden Gate strait below, by which time, a person is falling at 75 miles per hour. Hitting the water's surface is like hitting concrete. Those who don't die on impact find themselves unable to stay afloat or eventually perish from hypothermia.

California Highway Patrol officer Kevin Briggs knows all too well the kind of damage the jump can inflict on the human body. He's also familiar with the darkness that can lead someone to take the fatal plunge. The Army infantry veteran and former San Quentin prison guard has himself sought treatment for severe depression.

Perhaps this is what's given him the necessary perspective to help people like Kevin Berthia. In 2005, the then 22-year-old found himself hugging the bridge's railing, inches away from certain death. That's when he heard Briggs' voice.

He didn't try to argue Berthia out of jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead, he simply let him talk. “Somehow, the compassion in your voice is what allowed me to kinda let my guard down enough for us to have a conversation,” Berthia later told Briggs. After 90 minutes, Berthia came down off the railing.

In his 23-year career (he retired in 2013 and now works in suicide prevention), Briggs kept more than 200 people from jumping to their deaths.

His typical opening was to ask, “What's your plan for tomorrow?” If they didn't have one, he would respond, “Well, let's make one. If it doesn't work out, you can always come back here later.” That so many took his advice is a testament both to Briggs' skill and to the power of offering someone our full, focused attention.