Moderates in the Deep South are disenfranchised. So are the young, the impoverished, blacks, gays, women who want to control their own bodies, Latinos and unapologetic liberals of both races and genders. Which, in the South, rolls us right back to the 1950s, at least in statewide elections.
I am standing at the front door, locked out of my own house. If this were a movie, it'd be raining. Thankfully, this isn't so it isn't. But the reality is embarrassing enough without any Hollywood embellishments.
About that stunning defeat. Conventional Wisdom, that self-righteous propagandist, has it that Republican House Majority Leader Eric Cantor's trouncing by an academic, tea-sipping nobody marks the end of the GOP establishment.
Some aspects of the rivalry between Ole Miss and State leaves me baffled. Don't misunderstand; as long as MSU is playing Ole Miss, there is no contest. MSU is the choice over Ole Miss hands down.
That's how many people it took to bring down House Majority Leader Eric Cantor, doom immigration reform and leave all but the most tea-sodden Republicans quaking.
Earlier this week the Tampa Times released the results of a study on what it calls "America's Worst Charities." Fifty charities were on the list, which you can find at http://www.tampabay.com/americas-worst-charities/.
So much for the argument that having more people armed in public places will result in fewer gun deaths.
Like many folks in Columbus, I read with strange fascination the account of Monday's Columbus Municipal School Board meeting, which shows there is no accounting for taste, I suppose.
One of the hardest things to understand about the whole Bowe Bergdahl exchange is how the White House could be so hopelessly tone deaf as to not understand what was going to happen next.
"Every dog has its day," goes the old saying. Finally, every Rebel does, too.
A plague of heroin addiction is upon us. Another plague. Heroin was the crisis that prompted Richard Nixon to launch the war on drugs in 1971.
Sitting on the homemade bench, my one hand rested on Rex's head. My fingers moved slowly and absentmindedly around his neck and over his long ears. The other hand held a book while I read to him.
When a Sunday school class needs to elect a treasurer, a name is put forward and everybody says "aye." That's that. Nice and simple.
Friday was the 70th anniversary of D-Day. It's a day when I always think of my Uncle Orman Kimbrough.
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