Texas Governor Rick Perry has a plan to bring down unemployment, pay off the national debt, stop natural disasters, and smoke the terrorists out of their spider holes: He's hosting a prayer summit. The possible GOP presidential candidate has invited the nation's other 49 governors to join him at Houston's Reliant Stadium in early August for "The Response," a day of non-denominational Christian prayer and fasting (the latter is recommended but non-compulsory). Per the official site:
As a nation, we must come together, call upon Jesus to guide us through unprecedented struggles, and thank Him for the blessings of freedom we so richly enjoy according to His grace, mercy, and kindness towards us. A historic crisis facing our nation and threatening our future demands a historic response from the church. We must, as a people, return to the faith and hope of our fathers. The ancient paths of great men were blazed in prayer – the humility of the truly great men of history was revealed in their recognition of the power and might of Jesus to save all who call on His great name.
"There is hope for America," the site explains. "It lies in heaven, and we will find it on our knees."
This shouldn't come as too much of a surprise from Perry, who just six weeks ago issued a proclamation calling on residents to pray for rain for 72 hours, in response to historic wildfires. It's also similar in nature to the Texas Restoration Project, his 2006 outreach effort to pastors like Rod Parsley, the Ohio evangelist who has said Islam must be destroyed. The Houston event is being funded by the American Family Association, a conservative Christian organization that's been classified as a "hate group" by the Southern Poverty Law Center for its incessant promotion of false, anti-gay propaganda.
The AFA's issues director, Bryan Fischer, has alleged that gays caused the Holocaust—and are planning on doing it again; that gays should be banned from holding public office; that homosexuality should be criminalized; that foreign Muslims should either be exterminated converted to Christianity or subjected to lethal force*; that American Muslims should be deported; that there should be a permanent ban on mosque construction in the United States; and that Muslims should be prohibited from serving in the armed forces.
This all sounds pretty extreme (and it is pretty extreme), but it's worth noting that Rick Perry believes some of that stuff too. He has repeatedly asserted, for instance, that Texas' homosexual conduct statute, which criminalized gay sex, was a good law that should not have overturned by the Supreme Court.
*Note: After re-reading the offending quote, Fischer is more vague about how this will work, so I've tone down the language a bit.
What's next for Bachmann? One thing is unlikely: a quiet retirement. Here are some alternate possibilities.
Editor's note:MoJo's Tim Murphy compiled the list below as Bachmann began her presidential bid, after Fox News' Chris Wallace asked her if she was a flake. Murphy traveled to Minnesota to investigate Bachmann's rise through the ranks of conservative politics; read his profile of the congresswoman.
Sometime this month, Rep. Michele Bachmann (R-Minn.) is expected to travel to Waterloo, Iowa, to officially announce her presidential candidacy. Her odds, while firmly in Hail Mary territory, are still better than you might think: With Republicans less than thrilled with the primary field, Bachmann stands at least a fighter's chance in socially conservative states like Iowa and South Carolina.
Now in just her third term in Congress, Bachmann, the leader of the House tea party caucus, has earned a reputation as one of the lower chamber's leading bomb-throwers, lobbing overheated rhetoric at Democrats and needling establishment Republicans. Her Minnesota colleague, Democratic Rep. Keith Ellison once accused her of "psycho talk"; in an interview with Politico, a Pawlenty aide was just as blunt: "She's a real pain in the ass." Former state Sen. Dean Johnson, who was the Republican minority leader during Bachmann's stint in St. Paul, has said, "I don't think I ever served with anybody who I mistrusted more, from either side of the aisle."
Ouch. Bachmann also has a tendency to stretch the truth, or simply sidestep it altogether. Bill Adair, editor of PolitiFact, recently told Minnesota Public Radio that he has never researched a Bachmann quote and found it to be true (the only major politician for which that's the case).
Here's an incomplete guide to Bachmann's greatest hits:
On Thursday, former Alaska Governor Sarah Palin passed through Boston as part of her totally-not-a-presidential-campaign-test-run, family-vacation (yeah, right) East Coast bus tour. Because the purported mission of the trip is to help Americans "appreciate the significance of our nation's historic sites, patriotic events and diverse cultures," the former half-term Alaska governor did what most tour groups do when they come to the city: she checked out the Freedom Trail, which winds past historic landmarks like the Old North Church and Paul Revere's house. As she explained on her blog, "There's so much history here. It's amazing how much of our nation's history can be found in just two and a half miles on the Freedom Trail." There certainly is a lot of history to be found on the Freedom Trail, but Palin appears to have lost most of it.
Here's how she described Paul Revere's famous ride:
…he who warned the British that they weren't gonna be takin' away our arms, uh, by ringin' those bells and, um, makin' sure as he's ridin' his horse through town to send those warning shots and bells that we're gonna be secure and we were gonna be free. And we we're gonna be armed.
This is actually the opposite of everything Paul Revere did. He wasn't sending any messages to the British soldiers who were about to move on the patriots' weapons stockpiles and arrest key leaders. According to history, Revere was warning the Minutemen that the Brits were coming so these militia members could prepare. He did not ring any bells. He instructed a friend to put either one or two lights in the tower of the Old North Church ("one if by land, two if by sea"). He did not fire any warning shots. His ride at the time was no act of symbolism; it was a stealth operation in support of a local resistance movement whose goals at that point remained largely undefined.
Palin's Revere narrative is the latest in an emerging, alternative history of the American Revolution as researched by Republican presidential candidates. Rep. Michele Bachmann (R-Minn.) floated her own contrarian theory last month when she told a crowd in New Hampshire that "It's your state that fired the shot that was heard around the world, you are the state of Lexington and Concord, you started the battle for liberty right here in your backyard." That mistake—Lexington and Concord are in Massachusetts—would seem a lot more accidental if she hadn't made it twice—in prepared remarks. (In a related incident, she suggested that the Founding Fathers tried to abolish slavery.) Herman Cain, the former pizza titan who's currently polling in second in Iowa, recently told Americans to "reread" the Constitution: "When you get to the part about 'life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,' don't stop there, keep reading." But if you're trying to read the Constitution and you come across the phrase "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,' you should really stop, because you will have been reading the Declaration of Independence.
We don't mean to nitpick—we just think that if you launch a major publicity tour on the subject of great moments in American history, it might make sense to brush up on the details first. We can only imagine how Palin might try to spin this: "Listen my children and you shall hear, of the midnight ride of Paul Revere. If the story doesn't sound like what you read on Wikipedia, you know who to blame: the elite liberal media."
Is Rep. Paul Ryan (R–Wis.) running for President? Like Matt Yglesias, I think that's the clear takeaway from his address to the conservative Alexander Hamilton Society last night. Via the Weekly Standard:
Ryan squarely rejected the position of increased isolationism. "Today, some in this country relish the idea of America's retreat from our role in the world," Ryan said. "They say that it's about time for other nations to take over, that we should turn inward, that we should reduce ourselves to membership on a long list of mediocre has-beens."
He continued, "Instead of heeding these calls to surrender, we must renew our commitment to the idea that America is the greatest force for human freedom the world has ever seen."
There's nothing new there substance-wise; what's notable is that it's Ryan who's saying it. He's the chairman of the House budget committee, and that's more or less all he talks about. His views on foreign policy are about as relevant as his views on the planking craze.
That is, unless he's got something bigger on his mind. Although he's previously denied any interest in entering the race, those denials are beginning to take a less definitive tone. Asked last night by Fox News' Neil Cavuto whether he'd consider running, Ryan offered a non-answer: "I want to see how this field develops." This morning, meanwhile, he addressed Ralph Reed's Faith and Freedom Conference, where he shared the bill with GOP presidential contenders Michele Bachmann and Herman Cain—not the kind of place you'd expect to find a congressman with a (carefully crafted) reputation as an affable budget wonk.
It's no secret that Republicans are unhappy with their current field of candidates. Hence the constant pining for Chris Christie, or Mitch Daniels, or Jeb Bush, or Rick Perry (that Rick Perry). And in that sense, the Wisconsin congressman seems like a natural choice. Ryan's budget, which would phase out Medicare, has quickly become the centerpiece of the GOP's domestic agenda. Who better to lead the party into the 2012 election than Ryan himself?
It's a matter of public record that, at least at this point in the campaign, Republican primary voters really don't like their 2012 options. Hence the constant pining for Indiana Gov. Mitch Daniels (not running), former Florida Gov. Jeb Bush (not running)—even former Supreme Allied Commander and two-term President Dwight D. Eisenhower (deceased). Now, the new hope for discontented GOPers is New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie, a brash former US Attorney who's become a minor deity on the right on account of his contentious exchanges with (usually) public school teachers. Christie has said he's not running, but continues to hold the kind of meetings you'd hold if you were actually thinking of running. On Tuesday, he met with a delegation of influential Iowa Republicans in Princeton. Per the Des Moines Register:
It's too early to say the Iowa GOP mission to draft in-your-face New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie to run for president was unsuccessful, two team members said Wednesday.
Although Christie didn't promise to enter the race during the dinner with the seven Iowa Republicans on Tuesday night, he never flatly declared he wouldn't, said Gary Kirke, a business entrepreneur and an organizer of the recruitment trip.
Consider this: Christie had 13 of his people at the table, all trusted advisers, said Michael Richards, a West Des Moines Republican who also went on the 9½-hour trip.
Of course, as my colleague Andy Kroll has noted, Iowa Republicans are pretty much the only folks who actually seem to like Chris Christie, whose approval ratings in New Jersey have plummeted in the last 12 months. Hey, there's always Rick Perry.