All the big baby bosses waddled to the mic in Louisiana to show off a new Immigration and Customs Enforcement detention spot at Angola, nicknamed “the Louisiana Lockup.” Governor Jeff Landry shook his rattle first and said, “This facility is designed to hold the worst of the worst.” He kept saying it a lot, like a kid who learned a new phrase and wants everyone to hear.
Landry thanked a crowd of helpers and blamed “open border policies” for scary crimes. He said, “100,000 Americans die. each year. strictly because we allow poisonous material… to pour through a porous border.” He added the camp would let ICE “consolidate the most. violent. offenders. into a single deportation and holding, facility.” He also bragged that Angola is surrounded by swamps with gators and forests with bears, which is a very baby way to say, “No one’s crawling away.”
Then Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem took the binky. She called it a first-of-its-kind deal and said President Trump picked leaders who “don’t complain about things. They fixed them.” She listed names of people ICE says are already there and said, “There has never been an agreement like this one before.” She also said the new law funded “tens of thousands of new detention facilities. and beds,” and promised, “we’re making our communities safer.” She made it clear the Louisiana Lockup is for “the most dangerous of criminals.”
Attorney General Pam Bondi brought her own stack of toy blocks labeled “stats.” She said teams in Louisiana grabbed “140 violent criminals,” “more than 100 Firearms,” and lots of drugs, adding, “now we have a place to house them all.” She promised prosecutions and declared the Louisiana Lockup an example for everyone else.
ICE Deputy Director Madison Shine (the grown-up in charge of nap charts) said the point is simple: “to put the American people first… allow the handcuffs to come off of ice officers and put the handcuffs on the criminals.” She also told reporters the site will meet standard rules: “This facility will meet all of ICE’s standards including our standards that have attorneys available… as well as see immigration judge.”
Reporters asked about cost, mixing with Angola’s regular population, and due process. Landry said there’d be no mixing, that the Louisiana Lockup runs “at a fraction of the cost,” and that, yes, detainees get lawyer time and judge time. When asked what daily life would look like for detainees, Landry replied, “their day here is better than the day and walking in the footsteps of some of their victims.”
So the playpen is open. The sign says “Camp 47,” the nickname is “the Louisiana Lockup,” and the message says: break the law, meet the gators.
Both Sides’ Reaction
Babies who clapped: These tots say the crib got safer the moment the gates clicked. They believe Camp 47 corrals violent offenders far from neighborhoods, and they like words like “capacity” and “standards” almost as much as applesauce. For them, a high-security pillow fort inside Angola means fewer scary stories at night. They point to the quotes—“never able to harm another child… ever again”—and say this is how you stop repeat playpen chaos. They also like that there will be lawyers and judges on-site, so the process isn’t just diapers and duct tape.
Babies who threw their blocks: These babies worry about rights and rough cribs. Angola has a tough history, and they fear mixing immigration detention with a max-security vibe turns due process into a punishment before the judge’s rattle bangs. They hear “tens of thousands of… beds” and imagine mass baby-jail, not careful justice. They ask if the “model” standards really match what happens inside, whether people can reach lawyers, and if calling it “the worst of the worst” makes it too easy to skip the hard parts—like evidence, hearings, and appeals.
Don't even try to kid
yourself. You need this in your inbox yesterday. 👇
