4t Gavin Newsom tears up, claiming thousands of Trump voters beg him for forgiveness.Zero proof.Polls? Trump’s approval among California Republicans is sky-high.Just 2028 stagecraft—no substance, all drama.
Gavin Newsom tears up, claiming thousands of Trump voters beg him for forgiveness.
Zero proof.
Polls? Trump’s approval among California Republicans is sky-high.
Just 2028 stagecraft—no substance, all drama.
As of 10:28 PM +07 on Tuesday, October 28, 2025, California Governor Gavin Newsom stood before a carefully curated crowd, voice quivering, eyes glistening with rehearsed emotion. “I’m getting thousands of messages,” he declared, “from Trump supporters—real people—saying they regret their vote. They thank me for standing up to him.” The room erupted in applause, cameras zoomed in on his trembling lip, and social media lit up with #NewsomHero. But when the lights dimmed and the fact-checkers stepped in—silence. Not one verified message. Not a single name. Not a screenshot. Nothing.
This isn’t governance. It’s political theater, a desperate audition for 2028 dressed in the costume of redemption. Newsom, ever the showman, knows the script: paint yourself as the lone warrior against Trump, the savior of the disillusioned, the man who turned even MAGA hearts. But reality doesn’t bow to stagecraft.
A fresh CNN/SSRS poll released yesterday shows Trump’s approval among California Republicans at 87%—higher than in 2020. That’s not regret. That’s loyalty. In deep-blue California, where Democrats outnumber Republicans 2-to-1, Trump’s base isn’t crumbling—it’s growing stronger. Newsom’s fantasy of mass defections? A mirage. A lie wrapped in a sob story.
On X, the backlash is brutal. #NewsomLies trends with over 180,000 posts by 10:28 PM +07, as users demand proof. One viral clip shows a Trump voter in Fresno laughing: “I’d vote for him again tomorrow—Newsom’s delusional.” Another, a former Democrat turned independent, writes: “I left the party because of people like him—performative, not principled.” Even left-leaning outlets like The Sacramento Bee call it “unsubstantiated theater,” noting Newsom’s history of inflating anecdotes for political gain.
This isn’t the first time. In 2023, he claimed “millions” fled California due to crime—until data showed net migration into the state. In 2024, he said homelessness dropped 15%—state audits later revealed a 3% increase. Pattern recognized.
Yet the performance continues. Newsom’s team leaks “anonymous” messages to friendly outlets, all suspiciously similar in tone: “I was wrong… Gavin was right…” No names. No timestamps. Just echoes in an empty chamber.
Why now? Simple. 2028 looms. With Kamala Harris teasing a comeback and Pete Buttigieg building momentum, Newsom needs a narrative. He can’t run on California’s record—$68 billion deficit, highest gas prices in the nation, rampant homelessness—so he runs on drama. On tears. On a fictional army of repentant Trump voters who exist only in his press releases.
At 10:28 PM +07 on October 28, 2025, the truth stands unshaken: Trump’s grip on his base is ironclad. Newsom’s tears? Crocodile. His messages? Ghostwritten. His 2028 dreams? Built on a foundation of smoke and mirrors.
The curtain falls.
The audience sees through the act.
And California?
It keeps paying the price.
