On Monday evening, I and thousands of other people laid down $20 apiece at 270 neighborhood theaters across America to watch the premiere of Dinesh D’Souza’s new documentary, “2,000 Mules.”
On a night of pouring rain in Kansas City, some 250 people filled our theater to capacity and broke into a spontaneous chant of “USA! USA!” at movie’s end.
The movie was that cathartic. Like D’Souza’s Greek chorus of Salem radio hosts – Dennis Prager, Larry Elder, Seb Gorka, Eric Metaxas, Charlie Kirk – the moviegoers strongly suspected the election was stolen, but they needed to see how it was stolen.
A week ago Barack Obama let loose his inner fascist and gave an hour-long speech at Stanford University that deserved more attention than it got.
“I’m pretty close to a First Amendment absolutist,” Obama told his audience and then spent the rest of the hour proving he is anything but. In fact, the Obama that emerges in this speech is one scary dude.
The one sentence that most alarmed me began thusly, “The way I’m going to evaluate any proposal touching on social media and the internet is whether it strengthens or weakens the prospects for a healthy, inclusive democracy.”
Oh, if only U.S. District Judge Kathryn Kimball Mizelle had struck down the airplane mask mandate a week ago, ideally in mid-flight, the skies might have gotten much friendlier that day.
Flying out of Newark to Kansas City, I drew as seat mate in our two-across alignment a Karen right out of central casting: 60-ish, skittish, frumpy. I did not expect resistance. I had made close to 20 round trips during the mask era without encountering such a creature.
Most of those trips had been in and out of Tampa, arguably the sanest big city in America. It seems only fitting that the lawsuit that led to Mizelle’s decision was filed last year in Tampa.
Tony Dungy, the first black coach ever to win a Super Bowl, might have escaped notice this week had he merely supported Florida Governor Ron DeSantis’s “Responsible Fatherhood Initiative.” His real sin was to explain why.
Dungy, a Christian father of eleven, recounted a conversation he had years back with the Rev. Abe Brown about Brown’s prison ministry. At Brown’s request, Dungy accompanied him to prison. Expecting to find hardened criminals, Dungy found instead “19- and 20- and 21-year-old kids who looked like my boys.” When Dungy asked what accounted for the young men’s incarceration, Beown told him told him, “It’s not socioeconomic. It’s not racial. It’s not education. It’s none of that. Ninety-five percent of these boys did not grow up with their dad.”