Native Americans are always an important voting bloc in Montana, where they make up 6.5 percent of the population, per U.S. Census data. But this November, their involvement could potentially impact the entire nation.
Control of the Senate may hang on the outcome of the Montana Senate race, where Democratic Sen. Jon Tester is up for reelection in this reliably red state, likely facing off against Republican Tim Sheehy, whom former President Donald Trump has endorsed. Trump won Montana by nearly 17 percentage points in 2020, and Tester won by 3.5 percentage points — or nearly 18,000 votes — in 2018. Montana’s tribes comprise about five percent of the voting bloc, nearly twice the margin by which Tester won his last race.
https://www.politico.com/news/magazine/2024/05/12/letter-from-montana-00155737
From that New Jersey rally.
Biden has dementia?
“We don’t even have teachers of some of these languages. Who would think that? We have languages that are, like, from, from the planet Mars?” Trump said. “Nobody, nobody knows how to, you know, speak it.”
“We have children that are no longer going to school. They’re throwing them out of the park. There’s no more Little Leagues, there’s no more sports, there’s no more life in New York and so many of these cities,” he said.
“Silence of the Lamb,” Trump said. “Has anyone ever seen the Silence of the Lamb?”
“The late great Hannibal Lecter is a wonderful man,” the former President said. “He oftentimes would have a friend for dinner. Remember the last scene? Excuse me. I’m about to have a friend for dinner.”
“And this poor doctor walks by,” he continued. “I’m about to have a friend for dinner.”
“But Hannibal Lecter,” he added. “Congratulations. The late great Hannibal Lecter. We have people that are being released into our country that we don’t want in our country.”
well, it is at least figuratively true. whenever ■■■■■ has a friend, he makes sure to take them for all they’re worth, then discards the bones once he’s had his fill
Sounds like Trump is undergoing mental model collapse.
WE SHALL NOT
WE SHALL NOT BE MOVED
In fact, for Joseph Malik the beginning was several years earlier, in a medley of teargas, hymn singing, billy clubs, and obscenity, all of which were provoked by the imminent nomination for President of a man named Hubert Horatio Humphrey. It began in Lincoln Park on the night of August 25, 1968, while Joe was waiting to be teargassed. He did not know then that anything was beginning; he was only conscious, in an acid, gut-sour way, of what was ending: his own faith in the Democratic party.
He was sitting with the Concerned Clergymen under the cross they had erected. He was thinking, bitterly, that they should have erected a tombstone instead. It should have said: Here lies the New Deal.
Here lies the belief that all Evil is on the other side, among the reactionaries and Ku Kluxers. Here lies twenty years of the hopes and dreams and sweat and blood of Joseph Wendall Malik. Here lies American Liberalism, clubbed to death by Chicago’s heroic peace officers.
“They’re coming,” a voice near him said suddenly. The Concerned Clergymen immediately began singing, “We shall not be moved.”
“We’ll be moved, all right,” a dry sardonic, W.C. Fields voice said quietly. “When the teargas hits, we’ll be moved.” Joe recognized the speaker: it was novelist William Burroughs with his usual poker face, utterly without anger or contempt or indignation or hope or faith or any emotion Joe could understand. But he sat there, making his own protest against Hubert Horatio Humphrey by placing his body in front of Chicago’s police, for reasons Joe could not understand.
How, Joe wondered, can a man have courage without faith, without belief? Burroughs believed in nothing, and yet there he sat stubborn as Luther. Joe had always had faith in something—Roman Catholicism, long ago, then Trotskyism at college, then for nearly two decades mainstream liberalism (Arthur Schlesinger, Jr.’s, “Vital Center”) and now, with that dead, he was trying desperately to summon up faith in the motley crowd of dope-and-astrology-obsessed Yippies, Black Maoists, old-line hardcore pacifists, and arrogantly dogmatic SDS kids who had come to Chicago to protest a rigged convention and were being beaten and brutalized unspeakably for it.
Allen Ginsberg—sitting amid a huddle of Yippies off to the right—began chanting again, as he had all evening: “Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare….” Ginsberg believed; he believed in everything—in democracy, in socialism, in communism, in anarchism, in Ezra Pound’s idealistic variety of fascist economics, in Buckminster Fuller’s technological Utopia, in D. H. Lawrence’s return to preindustrial pastoralism, and in Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism, Christianity, Voodoo, astrology magic; but, above all, in the natural goodness of man.
The natural goodness of man … Joe hadn’t fully believed in that, since Buchenwald was revealed to the world in 1944, when he was seventeen.
“KILL! KILL! KILL!” came the chant of the police—exactly like the night before, the same neolithic scream of rage that signaled the beginning of the first massacre. They were coming, clubs in hand, spraying the teargas before them, “kill! kill! kill!”
Auschwitz, U.S.A., Joe thought, sickened. If they had been issued Zyklon B along with the teargas and Mace, they would be using it just as happily.
Slowly, the Concerned Clergymen came to their feet, holding dampened handkerchiefs to their faces. Unarmed and helpless, they prepared to hold their ground as long as possible before the inevitable retreat. A moral victory, Joe thought bitterly: All we ever achieve are moral victories. The immoral brutes win the real victories.
“All hail Discordia,” said a voice among the clergymen—a bearded young man named Simon, who had been arguing in favor of anarchism against some SDS Maoists earlier in the day.
And that was the last sentence Joe Malik remembered clearly, for it was gas and clubs and screams and blood from then on. He had no way of guessing, at the time, that hearing that sentence was the most important thing that happened to him in Lincoln Park.
– Robert Shea and Robert Anton Wilson The Illuminatus! Trilogy 1975.
Trump’s weakness with GOP voters has been largely ignored by the mainstream press.
Interestingly, they never miss an opportunity to hand-wring over the weaknesses of the Democratic party with the voters… either with the “real” Americans in the heartland or with those no-goodnik-woke-progressives… But they rarely question whether or not the GOP has the best interests of the American voter at heart or not… Strange that.
No surprise I guess that the F’ing NY Times begs to differ. Screenshot just now:
It’s a horse race, see, and Slow Joe is losing!! 
It’s the old “are you better off now than you were 4 years ago?” question. Anyone who answers “no” is lying, even the billionaires. And the ways in which I’d like more improvement involve T**** not being in prison yet and Gaza, which T**** would be fucking up worse.
Also, please mute the microphones of the off-turn debater and turn mics off at exactly the end of each speaker’s alotted time. Thanks.
That was part of the conditions Biden laid out.
And exactly why Il Douche will never agree to it.
Good news for 2024 elections in Louisiana:
Well this is infuriating:
https://www.axios.com/2024/05/16/rob-menendez-primary-new-jersey-jeffries-fundraiser
It’s bad enough that most of his fellow Senators haven’t taken any steps to expel the guy from the Senate, (or in the case of my own Senators, even politely suggest that he consider resigning) but WTF are congressmembers like Hakeem Jeffries thinking in fundraising for the guy to beat a primary challenger?? We could finally be rid of this criminal and they’re actively trying to prevent that from happening? My opinion of Jeffries just dropped by several pegs.
EDIT TO CORRECT: ok, I need to read more carefully next time. This is a fundraiser for Bob Menendez Jr., who is a House member. Still not great, but maybe not as bad as his dad, the Senator whose latest corruption trial began this week.
