I haven’t gotten apoplectic over Donald Trump, like so many of my associates on the Left.
It terrified me that he’s unleashed the Brown Shirts at his rallies, and I don’t know that they’ll be contained, but Trump himself is no threat. He’s actually anti-interventionist in some areas, is pro-choice, and, despite all his bluster, he’s not gonna build a wall. But the biggest reason I’m somewhat nonplussed about The Donald is that I live in a state with the most extreme, insane, and frightening politics of them all–Texas.
Since I’ve been here (1995) the most moderate and reasonable statewide office holder has been, hold your hats, George W. Bush. The state GOP considered Kay Bailey Hutchinson and Rick Perry too liberal. A SuperPAC ran ads in the past couple weeks accusing Trump of being too liberal. You can’t smoke on campuses, but you can carry a gun into class. Some folks have even resurrected a German word for Ted Cruz, Texas senator and prez candidate– Backpfeifengesicht, meaning “a face in good need of a punch.”
But when it comes to batshit crazy, the State Board of Education probably takes the cake. The Board exist in a different world and time–like the 18th Century. It’s mandated that Texas textbooks refer to the “Atlantic Triangular Trade” instead of slavery, that Moses be presented as a founding father, that the bible be discussed as a foundational political document. Just last year, Guv Greg Abbott appointed Donna Bahorich to chair the State Board of Ed. She’s from Houston, a devout Republican who believes in vouchers and the aforementioned textbook editing, and she home-schooled three sons and then sent them to private school. She has zero experience with the Texas public ed system.
Ah, but Ms. Bahorich is virtually enlightened compared to Mary Lou Bruner, who won the GOP primary for the Board of Ed last night and is guaranteed victory in the general election. Ms. Bruner rocketed to fame with her astute observations about American political life, which resonated with all her fellow-travelers on the right deep in the heart of Batshitville, aka Texas. Barack Obama supported gay rights, she’s explained, “because of the years spent as a male prostitute in his twenties.” The recent spate of school shootings began when public schools started teaching evolution. Books on sex ed which teachers are reading to litte kids have been banned from prisons but are allowed in schools and they “stimulate children to experiment with sex.” And it goes on and on . . . Continue reading
Liberals love to
Kelsey, like I have since the day he rescued me. It’s like the day I took him to see ice. His water bowl is still out and the food I made him is still in the refrigerator. I walk the neighborhood and everyone misses him, misses the way he plodded down the streets walking like a baby hippo with suspicion in his eyes, giving the canine malocchio to those he distrusted. Passing by the trees he watered, the bushes he sniffed, the animals he tried to eat . . . But I’m lucky to have years of good memories of him. He was a curmudgeon, a wartime consigliere. He wasn’t a friendly puppy, well to anyone but me. He’d lunge at passing dogs and bicyclists, bark at anyone who even looked at the house, try to maul every cat he saw, and he did it to protect me—he was my Genco. He was a dog’s dog, a rat-pack dog, a Sinatra dog, my dog. He ate well—sirloin, chicken, turkey, yogurt. If dogs drank scotch, he’d favor Macallan 25. He was the chairman of the board. I had to spoil him for a million reasons. We never fought, he never lied, never betrayed, never took a shiv to anyone’s back. He offered, and expected, loyalty and comfort, and we simply gave that to each other. He lived outside the law honestly. Dogs have some kind of preternatural, instinctual intelligence that we all underestimate and probably don’t understand, and he was at the top of the pyramid, “A-Number One.”
“if you want to stump a Democrat, ask them [sic] to name an accomplishment of Hillary Clinton”–

Magazines will certainly dedicate entire issues to the event, a 2-month long CNN series is planned, and a Ken Burns documentary is inevitable. Who doesn’t know about the exploits of Daniel Shays and his fellow farmers in the tumultuous days of 1786 and 1787?