[Note: This is a short excerpt from a longer piece published in marie claire International.]
Note: This piece was originally published in a slightly different format in marie claire magazine. Readers who care about such things can find more details about this at the bottom of this page, following the article below. Continue reading “Stars, Stripes, & Selfies: The Women Who Love Donald Trump”
When I was eight, however, all I really knew for sure was that I didn’t like any of [the Rice family.] That and I was completely terrified of Mr. Rice, even before the afternoon when he pulled his gun on me, and pressed its barrel to my temple.
The question I find myself asking more and more these days is this: Can the GOP moderates keep the party from completely succumbing to its far-right Christian base? And if not — if the men and women at the Values Voter Summit will indeed drive the Republican Party for the next decade or two –- what will that party look like? I have come to see for myself.
First off, let me just say the costume was a huge disappointment. I’ve seen bats at Gotham Zoo, and this guy looked nothing – nothing! – like a bat. He looked more like a weird S&M character, which makes you wonder exactly what kind of people the city is being run by if they’re working with a guy dressed like this. A pretty sad commentary, really. Totally unprofessional.
This raises something of a puzzle. It’s easy to understand why a cable television network or a radio station would choose ratings over a Republican in the Oval Office. It’s quite a bit less obvious why an actual candidate for that same office would choose such a path. This is only puzzling, however, if you assume that the reason all of the GOP candidates are running is that they actually wish to be President. Continue reading “Broken Elephants, Part II: Ben Carson, Frank Gaffney, and The Way to Make Your Mark in Today’s GOP”
It is their second date, and already she loves his imperfect hand.
“We went on strike only once, and the Pinkertons made sure we quickly buckled. I can still remember the site of them charging, sticks in hand. Tall and hard, they towered over most normals. We barely came up to their knees.”
Indeed, these people are about as ordinary a slice of traditional Americana as one can hope to stumble across in 2015: a small, All-American community of All-American neighbors getting together to share All-American food, sing the praises of Jesus, and share the weight of the various challenges that face today’s modern American registered sex offender.
“I don’t mind telling you,” he says, “I am no longer here to debate, or to reason, or to converse, or to hope you may be reached by logic or evidence. I AM HERE TO F–K YOUR SHIT UP.”