Across rural America, families are learning a hard lesson. The biggest threat to their local hospital or cancer clinic no longer comes from distance, workforce shortages, or regulation. It comes from private equity.

Over the past two decades, private equity firms have quietly bought hundreds of cancer clinics, oncology practices, and community hospitals. They promise efficiency and stability. Many communities experience something else: consolidation, higher costs, fewer doctors, and the slow erosion of care. When profit targets fall short, clinics close. Patients travel hours for treatment — or go without it altogether.

The same forces that hollowed out manufacturing towns and family farms are now targeting essential health care.

This shift reflects a deeper failure: treating health care as a financial asset rather than a public obligation.

Private equity follows a familiar playbook. Firms acquire medical practices with borrowed money, cut staffing, increase billing, extract profits, and sell within a few years. That model rewards investors. It fails patients who need long-term care and towns that depend on a single hospital or cancer center.

The collapse of 21st-century oncology shows how destructive this approach can be. After private equity took control, the company expanded rapidly across the Southeast while piling on debt. Pressure to generate revenue intensified. Federal investigators later uncovered widespread abuse, including unnecessary testing and illegal billing. The company paid more than $86 million in fraud settlements to the federal government and patients before filing for bankruptcy.

Entire regions lost access to cancer care with little warning. Investors exited. Patients were left to deal with the fallout.

Rural communities suffer the most. In cities, the loss of a clinic often means longer wait times. In rural America, it can mean the end of cancer care entirely. Patients face long drives, delayed treatment, or impossible choices between health and family obligations.

The same pattern appears in rural hospitals owned by Apollo Global Management through its control of LifePoint Health. After the acquisition, hospitals took on heavy debt. Executives sold real estate to raise cash, cut staffing, reduced services, and closed cancer centers. In New Mexico, state officials opened an investigation after reports that an Apollo-owned hospital denied or delayed cancer care for low-income patients.

RELATED: The hidden hospital scam driving up drug prices, coming to a state near you

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Defenders of private equity claim these firms rescue independent practices from hospital monopolies. In reality, they replace local control with corporate control.

Doctors lose authority to distant executives who never set foot in the affected communities. The language of independence disguises a transfer of power away from patients and physicians and toward investors.

Conservatives should recognize this for what it is. An elite financial class is extracting wealth from essential local institutions and leaving weaker communities behind. The same forces that hollowed out manufacturing towns and family farms are now targeting essential health care.

Cancer care should not function as a short-term investment. Rural hospitals should not exist to satisfy quarterly return targets. A system that allows this will continue to fail the people who rely on it most.

The answer is accountability, not a government takeover of medicine. Regulators must enforce antitrust laws. Policymakers should strengthen protections that preserve medical judgment from corporate interference. Communities deserve transparency about who owns their hospitals and who controls decisions about their care.

Health care depends on trust and continuity. When financialization dominates cancer care, rural Americans lose both. And once these institutions disappear, rebuilding them proves far harder than protecting them in the first place.

​Cancer, Cancer treatment, Private equity, Rural hospitals, Cancer care, Drug prices, Opinion & analysis 

The Rush reunion announcement landed like a Neil Peart cymbal crash heard from two continents away.

For some, it was a benediction. For others, a blasphemy. In America especially, Rush has always been a band that splits the room in two. On one side: devotion bordering on reverence. On the other: a curled lip, a sigh, a muttered word like “soulless” or “show-off.”

Rush endured because they never chased cool. Cool is perishable, but craft is not.

Few great bands inspire such loyalty and such irritation at the same time. Even fewer manage it without changing who they are.

A Farewell to Kings

The power trio we know as Rush formed in 1974 in Toronto, three young men chasing something bigger than barroom rock. They were loud, fast, and committed to mastery. As the years passed, they grew tighter, more disciplined, more deliberate. While other bands burned out or sold out, Rush stayed true.

That mindset carried them for four decades. Album after album. Tour after tour. By the time they bowed out in 2015, Rush had become one of the most reliable live acts in rock history. No scandals (despite a well-documented affection for Bolivian marching powder). The farewell felt final, especially as drummer Peart’s health declined. When he died in 2020, the door seemed closed for good.

Which is why this reunion lands so satisfyingly. It doesn’t feel forced. It doesn’t feel desperate. It feels natural. Two old friends picking up guitars, laughing through familiar songs, and realizing the music still matters to millions.

To others, it matters in the way a neighbor’s power drill matters — piercing, relentless, and likely to trigger a migraine.

Working Man

Rush has never fit comfortably into the American rock myth. The band wasn’t blues-rooted, booze-soaked, or born of Southern swag. Geddy Lee sang like a caffeinated banshee. Alex Lifeson mixed power with precision. And Neil Peart — the irreplaceable center — treated drums like an Olympic event.

To rock traditionalists, however, something about this just felt off. Rock, to them, was meant to feel dark and dangerous. Think Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, the Who, AC/DC. Part of the gig was bringing chaos — both on and off stage. Treating hotel rooms like demolition sites and sanity as optional. Consider the late, great Ozzy Osbourne: a man who built a Hall of Fame career out of conduct that would have ended most working lives in a padded room.

Rush never subscribed to that model. And for a certain kind of American critic, that alone was enough to raise suspicion.

Rock wasn’t supposed to sound so organized. It wasn’t supposed to sound like the band had talked things through. So the complaints piled up. Too clean. Too lame. “Cheesy” and “corny” became the easy shortcuts, a way to dismiss what they didn’t want to engage with.

RELATED: Exclusive: Former Toto bassist recalls 2019 breakup: It got a little ‘Lord of the Flies’

NurPhoto/Getty Images

Limelight

Take “Tom Sawyer,” still my personal favorite. Purists love to pick it apart. The synth line is too bright. The lyrics are too earnest. The chorus too triumphant. It doesn’t brood.

But that’s the point. “Tom Sawyer” isn’t trying to sound dangerous. The aim isn’t menace but momentum. It captures motion, confidence, and propulsion — three qualities rock critics often mistake for shallowness. Look past the childish nitpicking, and what’s left is undeniable. A song that still fills arenas, still hits hard, still makes people feel 10 feet tall.

For some critics, Rush was the band you loved if you owned graph paper and color-coded your homework. Rush’s music was for the kids who finished the test early and then checked their answers. Not rebels, not wreckers, but students of the thing itself. In rock culture, that kind of seriousness was treated like a social crime.

Subdivisions

Rush is hardly alone in this. Steely Dan took the same beating, dismissed as music for dental offices, waiting rooms, and people who alphabetize their spice racks, despite writing some of the sharpest, most venomous songs of the era. Yes was mocked as bloated and indulgent. Genesis, especially after Peter Gabriel left, got the same treatment.

America has always had a complicated relationship with genuine greatness. It celebrates brilliance, but only when it looks accidental. Genius is best received if it arrives late, drunk, and a little out of control.

You see this pattern everywhere. Adam Sandler spent decades being treated like a joke because his films made money and audiences laughed until they nearly lost bladder control. Jim Carrey wasn’t taken seriously until he stopped being funny and started looking permanently unwell. Rush refused that trade and paid the cultural price.

Headlong Flight

What the reunion clarifies — especially now, in an age of irony fatigue — is that Rush endured because they never chased cool. Cool is perishable, but craft is not. When Lee and Lifeson talk about laughing while jamming, about the music “dispelling dark clouds,” they’re describing something purists often forget. Music is allowed to be joyful. It’s allowed to be exhilarating without being mystical. It can be thrilling without pretending to be profound every second.

The dark humor is that Rush’s biggest sin may have been optimism. In an era increasingly allergic to it, they believed in improvement — musical, personal, even societal. That’s unfashionable.

Cynicism sells. Rage Against the Machine built an entire brand on permanent fury, screaming about “the system” while cashing checks from it. Nine Inch Nails turned self-loathing into an aesthetic. Nirvana mattered because they captured the feeling that nothing worked and no one was coming to fix it. Misery read as honesty. Anger read as depth. Enjoyment, by contrast, looks unserious.

But why? We’re here for a good time, not a long one. Rush understood that early.

Music doesn’t always need to diagnose the human condition. Sometimes it just needs to move, lift, and hit you square in the chest. Half a century on, they’re back. Not to win over the skeptics, who never wanted convincing anyway. But to reward the faithful and quietly remind everyone else that having a good time isn’t a crime.

​Rush, Tom sawyer, Music, Culture, Rush reunion, Classic rock, Geddy lee, Alex lifeson, Neil peart, Review, His mind is not for rent 

It’s the $1.2 trillion question.

The United States spends roughly $1.2 trillion every year on means-tested welfare programs — cash aid, food assistance, housing subsidies, and medical care. The list runs through a thicket of acronyms: SNAP, TANF, SSI, EITC, ACTC, WIC, CHIP, ACA subsidies, and CCDBG, plus school meals, Medicaid, and Section 8 housing.

States that eliminate fraud can afford to provide better aid to real residents in need — creating a race to the top in administration rather than a race to exploit Washington.

This guaranteed-income architecture now fuels a destructive cycle. Federal spending drives debt. Debt fuels inflation. Inflation expands dependence. And Washington responds by printing more money and sending it back to the states — without demanding serious accountability.

The result is a bottomless pit of spending, fraud, and inflation, with states handed endless federal funds and almost no incentive to police abuse.

Minnesota’s massive Somali-linked fraud scandal exposes this system in its most grotesque form. The question is whether President Trump will use it to force states to reclaim ownership — and responsibility — over welfare.

The day-care, nutrition, and medical fraud uncovered in Minneapolis is not an aberration. It is the predictable outcome of an open-ended entitlement state. Fraud networks thrive wherever federal money flows without limits or consequences. While the Minneapolis cases involved tight-knit ethnic networks, the underlying problem is national and structural. As long as states do not have to pay their own way, fraud will remain rational behavior.

California offers a parallel example. A report last summer found that roughly one-third of all community college applications in the state were fake — submitted solely to extract federal financial aid. That scam could not survive if California had to pick up the tab.

It isn’t just a blue-state problem, either. As Alex Berenson has reported, Indiana’s Medicaid spending on “autism behavioral therapy” exploded thirtyfold in just six years, reaching $75,000 per child for a few hours a week of unproven playtime therapy. When federal dollars cover the bill, discipline evaporates.

RELATED: Government fraud meets its worst enemy: Some dude with a phone

Wanlee Prachyapanaprai via iStock/Getty Images

Many Americans ask how Minnesota allowed the Feeding Our Future scandal to persist for years. The answer is simple: Washington supplied unlimited money, and the state faced no budgetary consequence for ignoring warning signs.

Over 200 day-care and medical providers allegedly siphoned billions across Medicaid, child care, and nutrition programs. That scale of fraud does not occur without political indifference — or worse.

States have every incentive under this system to look away. Federal money enables a closed loop of special interests, dependency, and electoral protection. Oversight threatens the flow.

Devolving welfare programs to the states — using fixed block grants rather than open-ended federal matches — would cut this dynamic off at the knees. States must balance their budgets. They do not have a printing press. When fraud costs real money, enforcement follows.

This is the moment for Trump to make that case. Either states raise taxes to fund welfare programs themselves, or they reform and prioritize them. That choice restores democratic accountability.

Consider the contrast. The United States spends roughly $1 trillion on national defense — protecting everyone. Yet we now spend even more on means-tested welfare that serves narrower populations while distorting the economy for all. Open-ended welfare spending drives inflation, which then forces more people onto welfare. End the money-printing, and fewer people will need subsidies in the first place.

RELATED: The insane little story that failed to warn America about the depth of Somali fraud

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In response to the Minnesota scandal, Trump’s Office of Management and Budget froze $10 billion in funding for TANF and the Child Care Development Fund across several states. That is a start. But temporary freezes will not survive the next Democrat administration.

The durable fix is statutory restructuring — through budget reconciliation — to force states to assume full financial responsibility for welfare programs. Without unlimited federal backstopping, abuse becomes politically and fiscally intolerable.

Critics warn that block grants spark a “race to the bottom.” The 1996 welfare reform suggests the opposite. When states gained ownership, many innovated — emphasizing work, child-care support, and fraud reduction. Accountability improved because incentives changed.

Yes, benefits should be limited to the truly needy. Open-ended entitlements allowed 250 “meal sites” to appear almost overnight in Minnesota, claiming to feed 120,000 children a day.

Force states to balance their books, and they will treat taxpayer money with respect. States that eliminate fraud can afford to provide better aid to real residents in need — creating a race to the top in administration rather than a race to exploit Washington.

The real way to “feed our future” is to end inflationary money-printing and dismantle the infinite entitlement state — so families can afford food on their own again.

​Opinion & analysis, Welfare reform, Inflation, Fraud, Federalism, Donald trump, Snap benefits, Tanf, Families, Feeding our future, Scandal, Medicaid, Supplemental nutrition assistance program, Section 8 housing, National debt, Taxes and spending, Minnesota fraud, Somali fraud, Minneapolis, Alex berenson, California, Community college 

Minnesota has faced intense scrutiny in recent weeks due to revelations of a widespread childcare fraud scheme, largely among local Somalis, that has allegedly drained millions of taxpayer dollars. However, the problem is far from new, as whistleblowers have been warning about this alleged rampant abuse for nearly a decade.

Yet, there has been little progress or accountability.

In May 2018, KMSP-TV released a scathing report alleging “massive daycare fraud” based on whistleblower claims. Scott Stillman, a former employee of the Minnesota Department of Human Services, told the news outlet that he warned his supervisors about these issues in a series of emails in March 2017.

Stillman, an upper management employee who spent eight years overseeing the state’s digital forensics lab, explained that he reported alleged fraud to the state’s DHS because he was concerned there was a “strong possibility” that defrauded taxpayer funds were being used against innocent civilians and the U.S. military.

‘Everyone who did this must be arrested.’

The alleged fraud pertained to the Child Care Assistance Program, which the federal government created in 1990 to help low-income parents afford childcare so they could work or participate in job training.

Stillman told KMSP he wanted the federal government to launch an independent investigation into the handling of day care and Medicaid programs, claiming the fraud reached $100 million or more annually. He also alleged that individuals in the state sent the fraudulent money to Somalia, where it was used to fund a terrorist organization known as al-Shabaab.

The local news interview prompted lawmakers to hold a hearing that same month.

“This is not a Minnesota problem,” Stillman testified. “It started in Minnesota, but we found an individual in our investigation who was teaching and training other states to do this, and it’s spreading out.”

“A federal investigation would reveal that there are other entities involved in this who may be receiving benefits from this fraud,” he said.

RELATED: The insane little story that failed to warn America about the depth of Somali fraud

Photo by Matt Roth for The Washington Post via Getty Images

Stillman’s testimony prompted the Minnesota’s Office of the Legislative Auditor in 2019 to issue a report in which auditors stated they could not verify the alleged $100 million in annual fraud and concluded they could not provide a reliable estimate.

However, they believed the fraud was greater than the $5 million to $6 million prosecutors were able to prove in several criminal cases where defendants were charged with felonies and ordered to pay $4.6 million in restitution for their participation in a childcare fraud scheme.

Auditors also said they could not substantiate Stillman’s claims that any of the alleged funds were making their way into the pockets of terrorist groups.

“On the other hand, we found that federal regulatory and law enforcement agencies are concerned that terrorist organizations in certain countries, including Somalia, obtain and use money sent from the United States by immigrants and refugees to family and friends in those countries,” the auditors wrote. “In addition, federal prosecutions have convicted several individuals in Minnesota of providing material support to terrorist organizations in foreign [countries].”

Federal and state officials have been concerned about Child Care Assistance Program fraud since at least 2013, the report added.

The auditor’s report referenced an August 2018 email from Jay Swanson, the then-manager of the CCAP Investigations Unit, in which he substantiated Stillman’s allegations.

“Investigators, as well as the Supervisor and Manager of this unit believe that the overall fraud rate in this program is at least 50% of the $217M paid to child care centers in CY2017,” he wrote in an email to then-Inspector General Carolyn Ham.

Swanson claimed that much of the “pervasive” fraud could be attributed to “large scale overbilling” by “many child care centers,” eligible mothers recruited by providers to receive cash kickbacks, fraudulent centers opening in the same location as a previous center that was ineligible for the program, and shell care centers that exist only to scam the program, among numerous other schemes and oversight gaps.

“In my opinion anyone who claims that Mr. Stillman was making false statements on this topic either has no knowledge of this situation, or is attempting to shift the focus of the conversation away from a very serious issue,” Swanson concluded in his letter to the inspector general.

During a December 2018 hearing before the state lawmakers, IG Ham disputed Swanson’s claim.

“I do not trust the allegation that 50% of CCAP money is being paid fraudulently,” Ham remarked.

The CCAP Investigations Unit also warned about rampant fraud, according to the 2019 auditor report. The unit’s manager stated that investigators “do not believe, despite the number of cases investigated thus far, that any real progress has been made regarding CCAP fraud.”

“Investigators regularly see fraudulent child care centers open faster than they can close the existing ones down,” the manager explained.

While Minnesota DHS officials did not dispute the existence of a CCAP fraud problem, they argued that $100 million in fraud, as Stillman had claimed, was “not a credible number.”

“We’re concerned about fraud and are aggressively pursuing it, but it’s not at that level. Funding for the Child Care Assistance Program for 2017 was $248.2 million,” the MDHS said in a statement in May 2018, responding to Stillman’s allegations.

RELATED: Anna Paulina Luna refers Tim Walz and AG Keith Ellison for criminal charges: ‘May justice be swift’

Photographer: Simone Lueck/Bloomberg via Getty Images

Then-acting MDHS Commissioner Chuck Johnson reiterated that Stillman’s fraud estimate was not credible. However, he admitted he could not put a reliable number on the total fraud.

By the time the 2019 report was published, dozens of Minnesota residents and childcare centers had been charged with CCAP fraud.

Since these issues were initially brought to the MDHS’ attention, Minnesota has transitioned CCAP oversight and administration to the Department of Children, Youth, and Families. When reached for comment concerning childcare fraud, MDHS directed Blaze News to contact DCYF. That department did not respond.

Minnesota’s long-standing childcare fraud issues recently gained national attention, thanks to journalist Nick Shirley’s on-the-ground reporting in December. This explosive coverage has ignited fierce criticism of the state’s Democratic leadership while shining a harsh light on broader oversight failures that extend beyond the CCAP.

This week, the Minnesota Office of the Legislative Auditor released a performance audit highlighting grant issuance lapses in the Minnesota Department of Human Services’ Behavioral Health Administration, the department responsible for overseeing mental health programs and alcohol and drug abuse services.

Auditors aimed to assess whether the BHA had “adequate internal controls and complied with significant finance-related requirements related to oversight of grants.” Instead, they found that the administration had failed to comply with “most” of the tested requirements, concluding that it lacked sufficient internal controls over grant funds.

Some of the report’s shocking findings included nearly $300,000 in unsupported grant reimbursements, $915,000 in grant payments for work performed before fully executed agreements were established, $2.5 million in grants awarded without using a competitive bid process, and the improper use of single-source grants.

Additionally, auditors noted that, while MDHS and BHA staff were cooperative with the audit, they provided “a number of documents” that were “either backdated or created after our audit began.”

When reached for comment about the OLA report, Minnesota’s Department of Human Services provided an excerpt from temporary Commissioner Shireen Gandhi’s testimony at a Tuesday Legislative Audit Commission hearing.

During her opening remarks, Gandhi stated that she was “shocked” to learn that staff have provided auditors “anything other than an accurate representation of the work done.”

“With respect to the audit report, while it’s upsetting that DHS has findings in an area that we have placed concerted effort, the OLA’s report highlights the importance of the compliance work that is under way at the department. And the findings provide us with a road map for our focus going forward to continue strengthening oversight and integrity of behavioral health grants,” Gandhi said. “I take the report seriously, I accept responsibility for the findings, and I will ensure that DHS closes the findings.”

Eric Daugherty of Florida’s Voice reacted to the new “BOMBSHELL” report, stating that it confirms the MDHS “FABRICATED RECORDS and did not verify grant recipients, tried COVERING THEIR TRACKS, enabling massive fraud.”

He called on Gov. Tim Walz to immediately resign. Walz has already dropped out of his re-election campaign amid the state’s ongoing fraud controversy.

“Everyone who did this must be arrested,” Daugherty wrote.

It is not yet clear whether any of these reports will result in criminal investigations.

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​News, Minnesota, Tim walz, Scott stillman, Minnesota department of human services, Department of human services, Daycare fraud, Child care fraud, Child care assistance program, Ccap, Somali, Somali fraud, Minnesota legislative auditor, Minnesota office of the legislative auditor, Jay swanson, Chuck johnson, Carolyn ham, Inspector general, Dcyf, Behavioral health administration, Bha, Ola, Fraud, Fraud scheme, Politics, Department of children youth and families 

Police investigators said they were horrified to find more than 100 skulls and skeletons at the Pennsylvania home of a man who is now facing nearly 600 criminal charges.

Delaware County District Attorney Tanner Rouse announced in a press conference Thursday that 34-year-old Jonathan Gerlach of Ephrata had been charged with 574 counts, including trespassing, abuse of a corpse, and theft.

‘It is truly, in the most literal sense of the word, horrific. I grieve for those who are upset by this.’

Detectives had been on a stakeout at the historic Mount Moriah Cemetery and Arboretum in Yeadon Tuesday when they noticed that a car belonging to Gerlach had “numerous bones and skulls in plain view in the back seat.”

They said they saw the man leaving the cemetery with a burlap bag and a crowbar. When he was detained and questioned, Gerlach admitted that he had stolen human remains from 30 grave sites.

They found far worse after raiding the man’s home.

“Detectives walked into a horror movie come to life in that home,” Rouse said at the press conference. “It is truly, in the most literal sense of the word, horrific. I grieve for those who are upset by this, who are going through this, who are trying to figure out if it is in fact one of their loved ones.”

Investigators are now trying to determine why Gerlach had been collecting the remains.

They are also investigating Gerlach’s involvement in a group on Facebook titled, “Human Bones and Skull Selling Group.”

Rouse said that some of the remains were hung up, some were pieced together, and skulls were found on the man’s shelf.

“Very simply, detectives have recovered an awful lot of bones at this point, and we are still trying to piece together who they are, where they are from, and how many we are looking at,” Rouse said. “It’s going to be quite some time before we have a final answer.”

Gerlach is being held at the George W. Hill Correctional Facility on bail of $1 million.

RELATED: 4 people arrested over human remains scattered across New York, bail reform sets them free

“Rest in peace is rest in peace, and this is definitely something that tears at your heartstrings,” Yeadon Police Chief Henry Giammarco said.

The cemetery was founded in 1855, according to a sign at the entrance.

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​Jonathan gerlach arrest, Grave site robbery, Hundreds of remains found, Mount moriah cemetery, Crime