[State Rep. Debbie] Riddle set up some folding chairs and pitched a make-shift campsite outside the floor of the Texas House of Representatives beginning on Saturday afternoon to make sure she was the first in line when the chief clerk's office opened for early filing this morning. She spent both Saturday and Sunday night sleeping on the lobby floor.
"A visitor that walked by told me that I reminded them of the kids that camp out for Duke basketball tickets in Durham, North Carolina," Riddle said. "It was eye-opening to realize that people think it's normal to be passionate about something like college basketball, but odd to be passionate about your state's politics."
Hook 'em. The main prize, as Riddle brags on her website, was HB 17, which more or less parrots Arizona's SB 1070, allowing police to check the immigration status of anyone they pull over for a traffic stop. Another proposed bill requires parents of public school children to provide proof of citizenship (pdf) and/or immigration status, which would then be forked over to the state, as part of an effort to "identify and analyze any impact on the standard or quality of education" from illegal immigration. Yet another bill seeks to crack down on "sanctuary cities." Riddle, who made a name for herself as the Paul Revere of the "terror baby" menace, also introduced two bills (one that would increase the penalty for driving without a license, and one requiring valid ID in order to vote) that took on immmigration indirectly.
As I noted last month, it's no sure thing that immigration reform will pass in the Lone State State, where the party's biggest donors would prefer to see inaction. But after a landslide election (GOPers gained 44 seats in the Texas house) and with the base so fired up its leaders are literally squatting on the floors of the legislature, don't expect conservatives to back down so easily.
Looking out on the floor of the Fox Theater in downtown Oakland, you'd never think that the 2010 elections have been an utterly catastrophic disaster for the Democratic party. As I'm typing this, there's a conga-line—or something close to it—forming on the floor below the stage, and a dozen or so couples are cutting a rug to the swing band up above. Occasionally, the crowd will get restless, and a chant of "Jer-ry! Jer-ry!" will begin, and then sputter out after a few short bursts. They're all here for Jerry Brown, the state's once-and-future governor (and secretary of state, and attorney general, and mayor of Oakland), who's just defeated Meg Whitman and is expected to address supporters here later tonight.
California might be the one state in the union tonight where Democrats can feel legitimately good (if still a little confused) about the way things turned out. Sure, they'll lose a few House seats, but Barbara Boxer held onto her senate seat, and Brown, despite a $141 million-challenge from former eBay CEO Whitman, returned the governor's mansion to the Democrats for the first time in seven years. Proposition 23, the ballot provision that would have reversed the state's progressive climate change law, went down to defeat. All is well for Golden State Democrats. Or at least as well as you'd hope, given the circumstances.
"I don't care what's going on in the rest of the country," says Marianne Kearney-Brown of Napa. "Because we're gonna have Jer-ry Brown!”
Really, the only real setback was the defeat of Prop 19, which would have legalized marijuana. But to the provision's supporters, who assembled just down the street from Brown's victory party, in the parking lot of the pot-centric Oaksterdam University, losing was hardly the end of the world.
As Nela Mendoza of Oakland explained to me, "If it passes, well, fuck, we'll burn, dude! And if it doesn't pass...we'll burn anyway." Word.
Photo: Tim MurphyThe most dedicated progressive activist of the 2010 election cycle might be a 63-year-old hippie from Dayton named "Ganja Santa." Ganja (needless to say, a stage name), spent Saturday's Sanity Rally in San Francisco alternatively posing for pictures in a pot-green Santa suit, and riding around Civic Center Plaza on a beer cooler that's been retrofitted with handlebars and four wheels (a nifty contraption he calls "the cruiser cooler").
He moved to California earlier this year solely to help rally support for Proposition 19, the California ballot provision that would legalize Marijuana. "I was in Dayton, and I just thought, 'Man, if I'm sittin' here and Prop 19 fails, I'll never forgive myself," he said. On Wednesday, win or lose, Ganja Santa will pack up his belongings and return to Ohio.
It's the kind of commitment, if not necessarily the kind of outfit, Democratic campaigns wish they had more of in 2010. By now, you've probably read about yesterday's big Comedy Central rally on the Mall (or as MoJo's Suzy Khimm put it, "Ironypalooza"). Like any half-decent Tea Party-spinoff, though, the DC rally was only a part of the story; statellite viewing parties sprang up in dozens of cities, from the usual suspects (Seattle, Chicago) to the less so (Rapid City, South Dakota, home of the world's most sinister Richard Nixon statue).
In San Francisco, the crowd of about 700 that showed up to watch the main event on the big screen left as soon as it ended, opting not to stick around in the drizzle for the scheduled stand-up comedians, mime troupe, costume contest, and lecture on the virtues of "non-violent communication."
Some of you may remember Texas state senator/shock-jock Dan Patrick as the man who once proposed curtailing abortion by encouraging women to sell their babies giving $500 tax credits to women who choose adoption instead. Yesterday, Patrick announced the formation of the state senate's Tea Party Caucus, a sort of Lone Star State answer to the group Minnesota Rep. Michele Bachmann formed in July.
It's more or less what you'd expect: Caucus members are required to sign the "Pledge With Texans" (pdf), a Contract with America-style agreement that blends the impossible, the absurd, and the absurd once more: Balance the budget...while cutting taxes; selectively assert Texas' 10th Amendment rights; fight voter fraud by making it harder to vote. All well and good—up until the last plank: "I pledge to advance, support, and vote for legislation that lawfully protects Texas and Texans from the fiscal and social costs of illegal immigration."
That's really what this is about. Conservatives are going to win a lot of seats in a lot of different places this year by making promises—like repealing the Affordable Care Act and slashing the deficit—that they simply won't be able to make good on, either because it'd be extraordinarily unpopular, or because it's just bad for business. Immigration, as Texas Monthly's Nate Blakeslee explains quite well (subscription), is the fight Texas Republicans really don't want. Or rather, it's the fight the party's ultra-influential donors, like homebuilder and Swift Boater Bob Perry, really, really don't want. But Patrick and his frustrated allies are crashing toward a confrontation with his party's establishment. From Blakeslee:
[Top lobbyist] Bill Miller said the party's big moneymen were watching closely, however quiet they may seem. "If they see this thing getting any traction," he said, "they'll pick up the phone and they'll make it unmistakable where they're coming from on this issue, which is, Are you guys out of your mind?"