Monday, December 10, 2018

Vote suppression: It's what Republicans do

            "Voter fraud is a felony!"

            So says the mega-decibel warning (did President Trump provide the punctuation?) posted in black and red in minority communities across the country.

            The billboards show how serious the Republicans who paid for them are about this stuff, more or less.

            We say "more or less," because when clear evidence of actual voter fraud presented itself months ago in a North Carolina congressional primary, Associated Press reported, "GOP officials did little to scrutinize the results."

            Now a whole election in a North Carolina congressional race in that same district may get tossed into the Dumpster over the very same concerns.

            The allegation is that GOP-hired operatives were going to the homes of absentee voters who hadn't turned in their ballots, offering to deliver them to polling locations and either trashing or altering them. The ballots, not surprisingly, were from largely minority communities.

            Another day, another scheme by Republicans to trash the vote.

            If that sounds broad-brush, it's because broad-brush tactics by Republicans have become so common in suppressing the vote, with people of color targeted.

            Such was the case when Brian Kemp, running for governor of Georgia while oh-so-conveniently also running the election as secretary of state, put in doubt the voting statuses of thousands of voters, the preponderance of them having black or brown skin.

            On and on it goes, this pernicious, anti-democratic gambit.

            Such was the case in North Dakota when Republicans made it difficult to impossible for Native Americans to vote due to the lack of street addresses in the reservation residences.

            Such was the case in Latino-majority Dodge City, Kan., where Republican officials moved the city's one polling place – that's just one place for a population of 27,000 – outside the city. (The average elsewhere in Kansas is one polling place per 1,200 voters).

            Such has been the case in state after state with restrictive laws that judge after judge has deemed to be targeted at people of color.

            One tactic the GOP likes is to limit the time voters have to get to the polls. The better to marginalize the working poor and those without transportation.

            Hence, among its grab-bag of power-grab efforts before a Democratic governor took office, one thing the Republican-controlled Wisconsin legislature did was pass a law to slash early voting schedules.

            The most abominable feature of all of these efforts is that they harm the constitutional rights of poor people, particularly people of color, and the Republicans know it. Indeed, they appear to thirst for it, though many colors are the future of the American electorate.

            The GOP, writes Jamil Smith in Rolling Stone, "has only one demonstrated strategy for competing in a browning America: Whiten it, physically and electorally."

            Harrumph if you will, but no one should be fooled by GOP vote-suppression tactics.

             Federal Judge Nelva Gonzales Ramos was not fooled. She ruled that Texas' voter I.D. law, which is basically like so many GOP-written laws of its ilk, had the clear and tactical intent of discriminating against black and Hispanic voters.

            The law survived later appeals (another favorite tactic being to appeal and re-appeal rulings while elections continue to happen year after year) but no one should be fooled about its political designs.

            It's beyond ironic, now, that a party whose standard-bearer came into office squawking, without a shred of evidence, about illegal votes, now is embroiled in an actual vote-fraud imbroglio in North Carolina.

            As Paul Waldman writes in the Washington Post, reasonable people should all hope that in light of these matters, Republicans will "give up their repulsively disingenuous claim that their vote suppression measures are actually about 'voter fraud' and 'the integrity of the ballot' and just say, forthrightly, they don't actually care about voter fraud."

            Now, that would make a great billboard, with an exclamation point.

            Longtime newspaperman John Young lives in Colorado. Email:


Tuesday, December 4, 2018

Trump's intriguing definition of 'zero'

           "For the record, I have ZERO investments in Russia," said Donald Trump on July 26, 2016.

            That "the record" on which he swore was Twitter rather than, say, before congressional investigators, ultimately may prove beside the point.

            Trump was lying to the constituents he sought to serve as president.

            A question from a constituent: Why lie?

            As many a fact-checker attests, when Trump's lips are moving, untruth generally emanates. Some lies, however, are of more consequence than others.

            This whopper now has Trump "fixer" Michael Cohen pleading guilty to lying to Congress. Cohen, who was negotiating with Russian interests about building a Trump tower in Moscow (to be named Zero Investments Tower?), acknowledged misrepresenting the extent to which he and his boss were working with Russian interests on the matter.

            If Ken Starr went after Bill Clinton for the definition of "is," Robert Mueller now is interested in Donald Trump's definition of "zero." As every American should be.

            More important is for us all to understand why Trump would lie about it.

            After Cohen's guilty plea, Trump said of his Moscow dealings that "everybody knew. I mean, we were very open about it."

            You mean the Russian empire-building designs of which there were "zero"?

            Cohen admitted that the Trump Organization was pursuing the project as late as June 2016, the same month of the Trump Tower meeting with Russians meant to share "dirt" on Hillary Clinton.

            In written responses to questions from Robert Mueller, Trump has said he didn't know about that meeting.

            In his tower. Attended by his son. Attended by his son-in-law. Attended by his campaign manager.

            Trump didn't "know" about this – zero knowledge – until he dictated, aboard Air Force One, a letter providing a contemptuous story that the meeting was to discuss the adoption of Russian children – a tale that Donald Jr. later admitted wasn't true.

            Regardless, Trump has said that it isn't a crime to get dirt on an opponent.

            So why didn't he simply insert himself into the meeting, maybe have the speaker phone squawking? Did he have "Fox and Friends" to watch?

            Following this train of thought: If someone far away, on some couch somewhere, hacked into the Democratic National Committee's computer system, who wouldn't use dirt that emerged against the nasty, rotten Dems?

            Richard Nixon's boys were asking the same back before there were emails to hack.

            Trump biographer Tim O'Brien says that with Trump's trail of deception, "the unforgiving force of the U.S. justice system, which (Trump) has tried to undermine since becoming president, is encircling him." Mueller appears to have locked in, writes O'Brien, on the "fact pattern" of collusion between the Trump campaign and the Kremlin.

            This could include the apparent engagement of two key Trump insiders, Roger Stone and Jerome Corsi, with Wikileaks, the vessel for the sharing of those hacked DNC emails.

            Then there were Hillary Clinton's emails.

            "Russia, if you're listening, I hope you're able to find the 30,000 emails that are missing," Trump said in a July 2016 press conference.

            That same month, Mueller asserts in the indictment of Russian hackers, those clandestine figures attempted to "spearphish" email accounts at a domain used for Clinton's personal emails.

            It's significant that the Republican-controlled House Intelligence Committee has already wrapped up its investigation and concluded that, as Trump says, there was "no collusion."

            Democrats who will run that show in 2019 have more questions, though. One person they want to testify is the now-forthcoming Michael Cohen.

            Can Cohen be trusted? Here's what Rep. Jamie Raskin (D-Md.) said, "Obviously, you have to be a little bit ginger with anybody who's been lying for a long time," while calling him now, "a truth-telling refugee in Trump world." Call him Patient Zero.

            Longtime newspaperman John Young lives in Colorado. Email:


Tuesday, November 27, 2018

Enlistments for one man's amusement

          For all his depth, a mark of Abraham Lincoln's greatness was a deep humility.

          When saluted by Union volunteers in 1864, he remarked that he was "exceedingly obliged to you for this mark of respect."

          He continued, "It is said that we have the best government world ever knew, and I am glad to meet you, the supporters of that government."

          Lincoln revered the troops so highly that he exposed himself to enemy fire more than once, his stove-top hat a frighteningly handy sniper target.

          His successors were not so brazen, but presidents who have committed troops have taken pains to visit them: Eisenhower at the Korean Peninsula, Lyndon Johnson at Cam Rahn Bay, George H.W. Bush in Riyadh, George W. Bush in Baghdad, Barack Obama in remote parts of Afghanistan.

          And Donald Trump in Palm Beach County. On the phone.

          True to form, humility was out the window during his Thanksgiving Day call, staged while in the background servants set up a feast for him and his well-fed friends.

          As it turns out, Trump called the troops mostly to brag about himself. It's all he knows.

          It's one more bit of evidence that Trump's claim about doing so very much for our troops is just so much wind. What he has done is to make the U.S. military his personal accoutrement.

          Proposing to spend millions of dollars we don't have on a Russia-style military parade. Employing pre-election hysteria to send 5,800 troops to the border as razor-wire caddies. For Trump, as with Kim Jong-un, military is just another self-indulgence.

          A deployment of the size now at the border, by the way, is more than the United States committed to defeating ISIS.

          And for what? The only authorized combat function there is defending Border Patrol agents if attacked by migrants. Otherwise, at a price tag of $210 million, these men and women will while away the holidays, doing next to nothing that they were trained to do.

          Retired Admiral James Stavridis, former supreme NATO commander, denounced Trump's border deployment in the strongest terms -- in part because it's not a military mission, and in part because it takes troops away from training for actual military functions.

          "Nobody has been better for the military than me," says Trump. It's a statement of opinion, so we can't count it among his countless lies.

          Another claim that's been sandblasted by reality: "I've done more for vets than any president has done, certainly in many, many decades."

          Tell that to the veterans now months in arrears in housing assistance guaranteed to them under the GI Bill. Called to explain the problem to a congressional subcommittee, the Department of Veterans Affairs says it's due to a computer problem.

          If so, one would expect such a big, big friend of veterans (Trump), to climb all over this matter and get it fixed.

          As with most things, Trump is all talk. If it rains, he'll send his regrets and then blame the Secret Service.

          That was the case, in his now infamous decision to not go to a 100th anniversary of World War I ceremony in Paris attended by other world leaders and by his own chief of staff.

           Less discussed was the fact that also Trump became the first president in recent history to not make an appearance on Veterans Day at Arlington National Cemetery.

          Days later, the White House held a ceremony to honor veterans, which turned out, mostly, to be an event to honor you-know-whom for his great leadership.

          At that photo-op, Trump criticized his predecessor for failing to serve veterans. The fact is that among other achievements under Obama, the VA made historic inroads into dealing with veterans' homelessness. And Trump has done . . .

          The military? The VA? It's all a toy for the Golden Boy.

          Longtime newspaperman John Young lives in Colorado. Email:


Wednesday, November 21, 2018

‘Next great chapter’ for sweet potatoes

           Since nothing that Donald Trump says can be taken seriously except as work for bone-weary fact-checkers, I didn't take seriously his recent call for the creation of a sixth branch of the military: Space Farce.

            Now I acknowledge that I should have taken Space Farce seriously.

            For one, the administration was talking about an $8 billion price tag. For another, how could I not take it seriously when Vice President Mike Pence pronounced it the "next great chapter" in the defense of our nation?

            Yet for some reason, early on, I was skeptical.

            Here Trump was talking about an "elite group of war fighters specializing in the domain of space."

            I had to admit confusion, as he regularly uses "elite" as an insult. What was he saying about the noble space fighters we had yet to shoot into the heavens?

            Semantics, all. Since then, though, I have shed my skepticism. I'll tell you now why I am fully prepared to embrace Space Farce.

            It comes from reports of studies centered on the next generation of outer-space weapons, a veritable Manhattan Project of a decade's duration.

            First inklings:  A 2009 report from NASA about an experiment to grow sweet potatoes in space.

            In deep secrecy, scientists from the Tuskegee Center for Food and Environmental Systems for Human Exploration of Space – yes, this is a real thing – dispatched a team of sweet potato cuttings to ride with astronauts aboard Space Shuttle Columbia.

            After a short voyage, the growth of the cuttings in space was compared to cuttings held to Earth's surly bounds. The results were promising, if you like sweet potatoes.

            Fast-forward to today and a hydroponic system now employed on the International Space Station, growing -- you guessed it.

            At first I was wholly offended by this. But that was because I didn't understand.

            If the intention was to consume sweet potatoes in space or grow sweet potatoes that the universe didn't need – well, that had to be science fiction. I tried to eat sweet potatoes once. Once.

            What was afoot up there? Surely Earth has enough loamy soil to grow sweet potatoes for the ink, or plastic or other legitimate non-dining purposes George Washington Carver carved out in his laboratory.

            Why sweet potatoes in space?

            Only now has the puzzle been solved, and I realize that as a theorist I've had a role in it – a Werhner von Braun role, a J. Robert Oppenheimer role.

            I've been writing for decades about finding non-dining purposes for sweet potatoes -- because, well, you can't eat them. I tried that once.

            I want sweet potato farmers to prosper like the rest of them. So in my research/reportorial role, I've pointed out all the ways the starchy objects could serve mankind other than by casserole dish.

            In the 1990s I suggested that with sturdy mortar, sweet potatoes would make good building materials. That's right. Had budget writers in the House continued to be dominated by Trump droids into the year ahead, this president could be building his beautiful border wall with sweet potatoes. Alas.

            In the 2000s I shared reports of scientists' use of sweet potato peelings in removing hazardous chemicals at Super Fund sites.

            Work with me, people. Such was my message to mankind. Let us find constructive uses of sweet potatoes other than bolstering the marshmallow cream industry.

            Now, to my immense relief, I realize that someone other than me was thinking big-picture about these things: the idea people in the Trump White House, the minds behind Space Farce.

            I wrote way back in the '80s that sweet potatoes would make highly effective weapons if dropped or flung from above. This is no exaggeration. When deployed in their red birthday suits, sweet potatoes are pointed, dense and menacing.

            Now, I realize the merits of what Vice President Pence has pronounced but whose strategic details have yet to be sprung:

            Sweet potatoes will serve as the weapons Space Farce deploys to keep our fiercest galactic enemies at bay.

            Should, for instance, a cross-stellar caravan of Central American refugees telegraph their intention to couch-surf at the International Space Station or any Trump star properties, Space Farce could stop them in this very way.

            I'm with you all the way, Mr. President, Mr. Vice President. Sweet potatoes for interplanetary defense, not for dinner.

            Longtime newspaperman John Young lives in Colorado. Email:

Monday, November 19, 2018

'Big victory': Another Trump whopper

           For the Party of Trump, it's just a misty memory now – a celebration way back there in June.

            Republican Karen Handel had barely edged out Democrat Jon Ossoff for a vacant suburban Atlanta seat in Congress.

            It was the first special election watched nationwide to see how general disgust for Donald Trump would boost Democrats' fortunes, even in Red State America.

            When Handel won, Trump spokesperson Kellyanne Conway tweeted, "Laughing my #ossoff."

            Yes, well. That was June, and the administration's laughter has subsided.

            On Nov. 6, Handel lost the seat she had held for a whole five months.

            The winner? Lucy McBath, an African-American gun-control activist whose son was shot dead six years ago in a dispute over loud music.

            At this count, that makes 39 Democratic congressional pickups – a whopping 15 more than they needed to flip the House.

            Trump called the results Nov. 6 a "big victory," and said he was "ecstatic." Odd. That doesn't appear to have been his demeanor since.

            You'd be cranky, too, if your foes flipped more than 300 legislative seats, won seven new governor seats, and assumed the majority of attorneys general – the office that sues.

            Except for a barren few instances, truly notable Republican victories were stunningly close -- even in Texas, even in Georgia.

            Meanwhile, the U.S. House, with its power of the purse (adios, beautiful border wall) and investigation (hola, Trump tax returns) now will provide the check on the president that this moment demands.

            The Republicans' drubbing in the House was the most decisive since post-Watergate house-cleaning.

            Though many Democrats wanted more (the Senate), consider what just happened.

            They took back the House of Representatives in spite of gerrymandering that caused many to think of the GOP majority as impenetrable.

            They took it back in spite of Republican vote suppression efforts aimed squarely and strategically at people of color.

            A lightly reported fact is that several states voted for measures that will continue to erode the corruption of vote suppression and gerrymandering:

            1. Florida approved a measure to allow ex-convicts to vote.

            2. A measure to end gerrymandering staged a landslide victory in Missouri.

            3. In Michigan, voters approved a package that not only will end gerrymandering but set in motion automatic voter registration, same-day registration and "no excuse" absentee voting.

            4. Colorado voters approved two ballot issues to end partisan gerrymandering. The Centennial State already has same-day registration and mail-in ballots. Results? A 62 percent turnout -- in a mid-term election. Wow.

            5. And if you want to talk blue wave: Colorado just gave the Democrats monolithic control of the legislative process -- a Democratic governor, D-controlled House and Senate, and a sweep of statewide offices.

            Thanks, President Trump.

            Moderate Republican Congressman Mike Coffman had clipped along for years in a suburban Denver district, repeatedly fending off strong challengers.

            Then came the Trump presidency. Now Coffman will be unemployed.

            The question now is what this portends for 2020. Many say that the spell Trump casts on rural America and the South will work out for him again in the Electoral College.

            It certainly could. However, as poorly as Republicans did in swing states like Michigan, Wisconsin, Pennsylvania and Arizona, Trump would have to reclaim a lot of support that appears to have vanished.

            Trump still has a clammy grip on Republican love. That won't get him a second term.

            A September Gallup Poll found that only 31 percent of independents view him favorably.

            More ominously for Mr. Personality, a November poll by the Harvard Institute of Politics found that, for respondents under age 30, the president's approval rating was a bottom-scraping 26 percent. Fifty-nine percent said they "will never" vote for him.

            Never. That's a long time.

            Longtime newspaperman John Young lives in Colorado. Email:

Sunday, November 11, 2018

Sir, you don't run the country; we do

            Jim Acosta did his job.

            It's clear, even after two years, that Donald Trump does not understand his own.

            The CNN reporter asked the president about his "invasion" terminology of a bedraggled caravan hundreds of miles from our borders – justification for an election-eve rousting of enlisted men and women -- ordered from their homes to stare at an empty southern horizon.

            Acosta asked about the possibility of further indictments in Robert Mueller's investigation of Russian collusion and more.

            Instead of answering like a president, this one answered like a schoolyard blowhard by grabbing Acosta's press credentials on a wholly bogus charge that he manhandled an aide.

            You've seen the type in your own schoolyard. He gets caught doing something wrong and threatens to pound anyone employing his or her two good eyes.

            We saw Trump play politics with American troops, sending them to the border for no other reason than to ramp up the froth of his supporters pre-election. An "invasion" – oh, yeah. It's only costing $220 million. We've got that, um, somewhere.

            Supporters cheered at the rallies he held for Republican candidates. And for himself.

            Reportedly we are on the verge of hearing from Mueller, just as Trump continues his 24/7 effort to undermine the investigation by getting rid of the man overseeing it and putting in charge someone who has loudly criticized Mueller.

            Collusion? Mueller may not be able to prove it. Remember, though: It was obstruction of justice that brought Nixon down. With our very own corneas, we have witnessed obstruction from this president every day in every way.

            It extended from his pressuring of James Comey to back off the probe, to his firing him because he wouldn't back off, to the pressuring of other key investigatory figures, to the firing of Jeff Sessions and the demotion of Rod Rosenstein.

            Now we have an acting attorney general who literally auditioned on TV – CNN, no less – with suggestions on how to stop Mueller.

            Donald Trump, like Nixon, but even more zealously, is out to operate above and beyond the law.

            Not so fast, said the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals last week in telling Trump he could not yank the rug from under DACA recipients seeking renewals under the program.

            Not so fast, said U.S. District Judge Brian Morris in ruling that Trump cannot authorize the Keystone XL pipeline without an environmental review as our laws dictate.

            Not so fast, said voters across the nation Nov. 6, yanking the House of Representatives away from the Party of Trump. Accompanying that was a raft of Democratic victories in statehouses across the nation.

            Of particular interest was that the Democrats not only picked up seven governorships but also now have the majority of attorney general offices in the nation. These are positions from which the loyal opposition repeatedly and tenaciously will challenge Trump's presumptive moves in court.

            I can appreciate Trump's mindset in telling Acosta, "I think you should let me run the country. You run CNN."

            Once again, Trump doesn't get it. The country is not his to run. He's an executive hired by the people of this country that is a republic with separation of powers. CNN is a private company that can do what it wants. Trump cannot.

            I realize that some Republicans think of government as just another enterprise that can be awarded by a bid system. In it, the winner of that bid does whatever he wants until bids go out again. Yeah. Government is an even bigger Halliburton.

            For those of you who believe that, think of it this way: The voters just decided to provide a check on the chief contractor awarded that bid in 2016. This check comes with awesome investigatory powers.

             Just as Trump's acting A.G. assumes that as Trump's surrogate he can stop Mueller by denying him the funds to do his duty, so can the House of Representative wield the power of the purse to dictate what Trump can do with his power.

            Of course, the ultimate check on Donald Trump comes in two years. Millions of Americans will count the days.

            Longtime newspaperman John Young lives in Colorado. Email:


Sunday, November 4, 2018

The tourists in the White House

            Gnats. That's what experts at crime scenes call gawkers who suddenly appear to leer at the event.

            Timothy McVeigh, later to commit his own horrible crime in Oklahoma City, was a gnat at the scene of the Branch Davidian tragedy outside of Waco. So was budding conspiracy monger Alex Jones,  joining many in tin-foil headgear there. They were gnats drawn to a flame, plying a tragedy for pernicious ends.

            In effect, that's what Donald and Melania Trump were in Pittsburgh the other day – gnats -- at the scene of the Tree of Life mass killings.

            Just about anyone truly connected to the events suggested that if they came it should be later.

            But "later" didn't fit into the president's schedule. Discretion also didn't fit into a campaign narrative he wove like a spider on meth.

            Only a leader with a massive blind spot would tweet, amid the suffering, a gratuitous plug that Pennsylvania Republican Congressman Keith Rothfus' "sincere level of compassion, grief and sorrow" was "very inspiring. Vote for Keith!"

            Good grief.

            Yes, we are supposed to give him credit for coming. In Trump's world, general human traits like empathy, sympathy and general kindness are remarkable. Such sensitivity was a matter of fact in his predecessor's world.

            Barack Obama came into the White House with the thought that not only was he going to get things done but that he was going to make people feel part of a greater whole.

            The real tears Obama shed after the Sandy Hook massacre, after the death of John McCain and that of Aretha Franklin, those were the signs of the actual human feelings we should expect of our leaders.

            From Trump, it's, "Dab those eyes with these paper towels."

            Trump continually tells his rallies that it's not his nature to be presidential. We know.

            Trump is more like a tourist, a bigwig who got access to the Oval Office, settled into that big chair without the consent of the majority of Americans, and didn't leave.

            He saw buttons he could push and levers he could pull. "Hey, what if I pushed this?"

            "Ooh, look at this phone. I can get the Joint Chiefs in a second. Wait; I'll send thousands of troops to the border. Watch."

            That's the kind of deep thought Trump employed when he said he could order an end to birthright citizenship. No, Sir. You can't.

            All of you on the right who regularly pledge your love to the Constitution – yes, you, Ted Cruz – should call this man a hack.

            Melania is a tourist, too, though a stylish one. She did so much for our great land when she flew to Africa. Correct that statement: Our great land spent so much.

            Reportedly you and I are on the hook for $95,000 at the Semiramis Intercontinental hotel in Cairo. That's a significant tab, particularly because Melania didn't even spend the night.

            Well, it was all worth a fine shot of the first lady in her stylish pant suit in front of the Pyramids.

            The previous first lady stirred hearts and minds everywhere she went, and she continues to do it. She remains intent on making the most of every moment in her role in the spotlight.

            The current occupants of the White House comport themselves as if they're just passing through, as stylishly as possible.

             MSNBC host Joe Scarborough has a prediction: What we see are the harbingers of a president who will call it quits after a single term.

            I don't see it, although Mike Pence has a PAC that's already humming.

            Until Trump leaves or voters remove him, we are but gnats outside the yellow crime-scene tape marking his presidency.

            Longtime newspaperman John Young lives in Colorado. Email:


Monday, October 29, 2018

What's a fear-based demagogue to do?

            It was a bad day for President Fear and the folks at Fox News.

            They had planned jointly to set pheromones aflame with high-decibel sounds about a caravan of people headed to our borders from Honduras.

            Oh, my: people in brown skin coming to do terrible things -- clean toilet stalls, change hotel bed sheets, replace shingles on blistering roofs, and otherwise breathe free. The horror.

            Then what should happen but a succession of events to pre-empt all that airwave froth that Fox and the president wanted viewers to hear and fear.

            It came in the mail -- bombs sent to select critics of the president, including two former presidents.

            Trump acolytes like Fox News' Lou Dobbs and Rush Limbaugh trotted out a "false flag" theory (1) these weren't bombs; (2) a liberal or liberals had mailed them to discredit Donald Trump and his flock.

            This theory hinged on the notion that the law enforcement agencies, from federal to local, were all in on the ruse. Now, that's one massive ruse. It takes that whole "deep state" claim from quaint and comical all the way to Rocky and Bullwinkle.

            Then came an arrest: mid-day -- a news-cycle disaster. And with it came the most searchable term imaginable: the MAGA Bomber.

            So sad. Without exacting so much as a pound of actual liberal flesh, red-capped Cesar Sayoc had blown up a whole, fertile weekday news cycle, or seven.

            Fox News, in full pout, reported these facts. It did, however, blur out the fawning portrait of Trump and the targets drawn on the images of Hillary Clinton and Michael Moore on the suspect's van.

            Then a shooter took three handguns and an assault rifle and methodically killed 11 people at a Pittsburgh synagogue. He'd spewed his venom all over social media first, introducing non-extremists to Gab, which prides itself on providing a megaphone to anyone to say anything freely.

            What had fueled Robert Bowers' hatred? For one, those Trumpian warnings about refugees from Central America and Bowers' belief that a Jewish advocacy group was promoting it.

            Like our president, Bowers used the word "invaders" to describe the dark-skinned travelers.

            Who wouldn't be alarmed by the Trump-beat about that caravan? After all, our president warned that there might be "Middle-Easterners" in the bedraggled throng. Then it was violent gang members.

            Let's face it. If the package comes in certain pastels, the official policy of this administration is to send the military.

            Submerged in all this was the tragedy in Jeffersontown, Ky., in which a white gunman who couldn't get inside a predominantly black church to kill people went to a nearby grocery store and killed two black people.

            So, tell us what pastel to fear, Mr. President.

            This president is biologically adverse to anything that doesn't fit his prejudices, with a supporting throng that bolsters what he hates.

            In light of the mailing of bombs, Trump robotically called "terrorizing acts despicable." He called for civility, then, refusing to cancel an appearance on a stage provided by the enemy of the people, skipped out onto the campaign trail to return to his divisive self, his raving supporters denouncing his opponents as mobs.

            Trump knows how he won the presidency: by appealing to a constituency just narrow enough to get the electors he needed. He apparently has realized that he cannot attract a broader base, so he has sought, with every word and gesture, to harden the base he has.

            He said, "No nation can succeed that tolerates violence or the threat of violence as a method of political intimidation, coercion or control."

            Yet just days earlier he applauded Montana Congressman Greg Gianforte for "body-slamming" a reporter.

            In light of these horrifying events, being the con man he has shown himself to be, Trump's call for unity was every bit as sincere as flipping paper towels to Puerto Rico.

            The headline on Michael Tomasky's column in The Daily Beast said it all. In fact, it may be the most succinct summation of the Trump presidency:

            "A president who hates half the country doesn't get to call for unity."

            Longtime newspaperman John Young lives in Colorado. Email:


Sunday, October 21, 2018

A blue wave, then a brown wave

       Wherever the Republican Party's demographics were going before Trump, they have become, in the words of Procol Harum, a whiter shade of pale.

            Before Trump, the pallor of the Grand Old Party was one of those unspoken conditions, like Granddad's nose hairs. Now its overt whiteness and overt racism have become Granddad's stretch yellow convertible.

            Under Trump, Granddad feels free to be himself.

            As with white supremacists like Steve Bannon's and Stephen Miller's holding unprecedented sway in the executive branch.

            As with Republican Congressman Steve King's doing a sit-down for a site that speaks for Europe's neo-fascist "identitarian" movement, saying that America is committing "cultural suicide."

            As with Laura Ingraham's ranting on Fox News that immigration – legal and illegal – is turning this into "an America we don't recognize anymore."

            You don't recognize it, Laura, because all you see is your target audience, and they look just like you.

            Georgia Republican gubernatorial candidate Brian Kemp sees it, and has done something he hopes will stop a surge in anger over Trumpism from making Stacey Abrams the first African-American female governor in American history.

            Kemp, who happens to be Georgia's secretary of state, just put on hold the registrations of thousands of voters, 70 percent of them black.

            Texas' Ted Cruz is in a race no one imagined would be close, Democrat Beto O'Rourke nipping at his heels.

            Whether or not Texas' Latino voters turn out in strong numbers for O'Rourke could be decisive. Equally important, however, could be young Texans. O'Rourke has been connecting the dots at college campuses and getting big crowds

            Florida's Rick Scott, the Republican governor, sees brown, the Puerto Rican kind, in his race to unseat Democratic incumbent Sen. Bill Nelson. Donald Trump's let-them-eat-paper-towels dismissiveness toward Puerto Rico could be decisively hurtful to Republican candidates there this fall.

            The gubernatorial nomination of African-American Andrew Gillum will boost black turnout in Florida, as will a ballot initiative to restore voting rights to ex-convicts.

            Trump snaked his way to an Electoral College victory by inflaming and defaming people of color and creed. But the Republican Party is coming to understand what follows the "E Pluribus" on our currency. It isn't "E Pluribus Exclusivus."

            No matter the size of the blue wave this fall, the size of the brown wave to come is more impressive, and when it comes, the Republican Party will stick out like the skinny-legged, black-socks retirees on the beach.

            Even if blacks and Latinos do not turn out proportionally compared to white voters, sheer numbers will make it impossible to ignore them.

            Though whites are still the majority, that status will end before another generation reaches governing age – 2040, says Pew.

            In states with large populations of color – Texas, that's you; Florida: you; Arizona: you -- the brown wave is coming sooner than the rest.

            Ultimately, no Republican voter-suppression designs will hold it back.

            Until then, Trevor Noah of "The Daily Show" has an idea.

            As Republican efforts have sought to reduce black turnout by any crooked means they can devise, Noah says every black American should register as a Republican, not to vote that way, but to not get purged.

            Noah says that if Republicans think blacks will vote for them, "They're going to be waving Trayvons into the voting booth like a third-base coach."

            Noah offers Kanye West as an example. In a country club-atmosphere where seemingly the only blacks wear jockey helmets and brandish hitching rings, West, as a reward for his MAGA hat, got invited into the Oval Office to yell unintelligible things while cameras flashed.

            That's called equal access in Donald Trump's America.

            Longtime newspaperman John Young lives in Colorado. Email:

Monday, October 15, 2018

Hear no climate change; see no climate change; speak no climate change

           Wait, Florida Gov. Rick Scott: On whose information did you rely?

            You told Floridians to expect catastrophic storm surges from Hurricane Michael, as high as 12 feet. That proved to be correct. But where did you get that?

            Could it have been people who study weather? Or was it the Koch Brothers and the Carbon Mafia? Maybe casino king Sheldon Adelson?

            Republicans just can't stay consistent with whom it is they trust. Scientists who study weather were right about this climate event. Yet when scientists project catastrophic changes decades ahead -- rising sea levels and even more deadly storm surges because of global warming -- Republicans like Scott and our president plug their ears and hum loudly.

            Scott, now in a tight race for U.S. Senate with incumbent Democrat Bill Nelson, has been offering himself to Floridians as an environmentalist. This is a little like Trump's offering himself as a unifier.

            Anyone in Florida who has paid any attention knows that Scott has been no friend of the environment.

            For one, he directed that state literature shed terms like "climate change," "global warming" and "sustainability."

            For another, he ignored voters who wanted the state to stem a catastrophic tide of blue-green and "red tide" algae in southern Florida estuaries.

            Now he is dealing with the most vicious storm to ever hit the Panhandle.

            Once again a super storm has affirmed what climate scientists say: Warmer ocean temperatures accentuate the severity of such events.

            Warmer-than-normal waters also make such storms less predictable. That means one of these days a lot of people will die when something that seems mild turns out to be monstrous.

            In fact, Michael started that way.

            So, Republicans, whom do you believe? Apparently you will accept the word of those who know what they're talking about when the storm is bearing down on you. You just don't want to believe anything about the specter haunting all living things down the road.

            A meme circulating on social media says, "Every disaster movie starts with a scientist being ignored." Yep.

            One ceases to be stunned by the opt-in ignorance of this president and his brethren in high offices across the land. But consider:

            An impact statement by Trump's own National Highway Traffic Safety Administration projected a beyond-catastrophic seven-degree increase in global temperatures by the end of the century.

            This was not done to encourage the nation to do something about the carbon-loading scientists linked to climate change. It was about how to, um, live with it.

            Yes, Mr. President, your own people agree with the United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change -- just not in the business-as-usual, sniff-and-shrug attitude you have about this very serious matter.

            Forget seven degrees, folks. The U.N. study is looking at 1.9 degrees as a threshold at which horrible things happen, particularly around our sea shores.

            Then again, horrible things will happen in the highlands and lowlands and in the in-betweens, with depleted snowpack and parched forests and fields, with monstrous wildfires, with glacier-fed rivers running dry, with just about every living thing in danger except maybe for those in limos and hallways of gold leaf.

            Sorry if this sounds hysterical, but that's what all those scientists say, and it's what we've been seeing with drought conditions, with super storms, with tidal surges beyond belief.

            Once again, Republicans: You apparently believe science when disaster is knocking at your door. Why can you not believe science when the projections are beyond next week?

            The central reason is that you have hitched your star to a set of blue-sky charlatans. And nobody wants to pay the price.

            Longtime newspaperman John Young lives in Colorado. Email: