You have no idea how much joy I’m getting out of Judge Susan Crawford’s win for the highly coveted seat on the Wisconsin Supreme Court, preserving the court’s liberal majority. She handily defeated County Judge Brad Schimel (named after the delightful Laverne & Shirley theme song) despite/because of the millions of dollars Elon Musk spent on the race which consisted of bribes and free cases of warm Milwaukee’s Best.
He also offered people $100 to sign a petition opposing activist judges. Add in all the money he’s losing on Tesla and he could soon find himself sleeping in one of them. Hope there aren’t any sudden software glitches.
There’s a special place in hell reserved exclusively for Elon Musk, replete with 24/7 NPR membership drives, back issues of The American Prospect, plant-based meatloaf, Hyundai IONIQs, rainbow flags, mandatory vasectomies, an eternal Covid pandemic, economy class on commercial airlines WITHOUT Lorna Doone shortbread cookies, and free speech. Lots of it.
Incidentally, one of the recipients of the million dollar checks was Nick Jacobs, chair of the Wisconsin College Republicans. Wow! What are the odds?! And apparently, he has an imaginary friend.
Musk called this race “one of those things that may not seem that it’s going to affect the entire destiny of humanity, but I think it will.” I hope he’s learned that you can’t buy everyone. Most people, sure. But not everyone. I mean probably 99.5% of people can be bought but there are definitely like 12 holdouts.
Meanwhile, Cory Booker broke Strom Thurmond’s racist 24-hour record for filibustering by holding the Senate floor for 25 hours to protest the Trump administration. During a filibuster, you’re required to remain standing at your desk. That’s nothing. I once had to stand in a cramped church pew for an entire First Communion service. Hey, look. Another 7-year-old spitting out the host on the ground.
Honestly I thought Booker’s speech, despite its obvious political theatrics, was pretty great. It reminded me of Jimmy Stewart in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington where he’s laid up with a broken leg and spies on a neighbor fighting with his wife and suspects him of killing her and burying her in a flowerbed.
I read every word you write. It’s the only news I trust. Will you write me a check now?
You lost me at taking away the shortbread cookies. We’re angry; not sadistic.