Another Black Female

@human_xxoo Why don't the voters ever blame themselves?

Ronald Reagan was full of shit. His ideas were garbage. He destroyed the middle class. He stuck us with enormous debt and dismantled the Peoples government and replaced it with a crappy oligarch puppet party.

@ABCNews4 Appeal

A court denied a motion for a temporary restraining order in a lawsuit brought by the American Civil Liberties Union of South Carolina, which accused state lawmakers of violating the law during a special House Rules Committee meeting tied to congressional redistricting. bit.ly/4dU6PPH

@JeffBezos HOW DO WE PAY FOR INFRASTRUCTURE, HEALTHCARE, GOVERNMENT????

Thank you. The important part is zeroing out taxes on the bottom half. Best way to put money in someone’s pocket is to not take it out in the first place. Bottom half is only 3% of total tax revenue. But it’s very meaningful to that person. Zero it out.

@elonmusk So you can dictate how you spend your tax dollars and we can't! We pay for your airports, runways, roadways with OUR tax money.

True

@gothburz Why do they hate us so, what we stand for, this country? I cannot and will not comply.

I represent 761,000 people. On Tuesday, three billionaires spent $32 million to destroy a colleague who disagreed with them on one line item. I have not disagreed on anything in fourteen months. I want to tell you about a word I lost. The word was "no." I don't mean that rhetorically. I mean I cannot recall the last time I pressed the red button in the House chamber. I looked it up this morning. Had to look it up because I couldn't remember it unprompted. H.R. 4217. Fourteen months ago. It's in the Congressional Record like an artifact from a man who no longer exists. Thomas Massie lost his primary Tuesday night. Most expensive House primary in American history. $32 million total. He voted with the President 84 to 90 percent of the time. His crime was the remaining ten. One line item. One appropriation. One "no." Cost of that no: $32 million from donors who have never set foot in Kentucky. The Secretary of Defense in a sport coat calling him a coward at a rally, the first time a sitting Defense Secretary has appeared at a congressional primary in modern American history. An AI-generated deepfake depicting him in a hotel room with two Democratic congresswomen, pornographic, funded by a Super PAC, running in heavy rotation in his district during the evening news. Stephen Miller calling his thirteen years of fiscal conservatism "siding with Democrats to defund ICE." The President calling him a bum, a sleazebag, the worst Republican in history. Three Truth Social posts in ninety minutes. All of it for the word "no." One syllable. Two letters. $32 million. I remember the first time I said it. January 2003. My first term. An omnibus appropriations bill. $397 billion. I'd campaigned on fiscal responsibility. I believed what I'd said. I walked from my new office in Longworth to the chamber floor and I counted the carpet squares. I remember that. Counting. Forty-seven squares from the elevator to the door. My hands were shaking. Not from fear. From something else. I didn't have a word for it then either, but it was the opposite of what I feel now. I pressed the red button and my chest filled with something warm. Like my body was confirming a decision my brain had already made. Like the button and the belief were the same circuit. Twenty-four years ago. I was that man. The man who shook pressing a button because the button meant something. Because pressing it was a sentence you were saying out loud to 761,000 people: I disagree and here is why. The word was "conscience." That's what I called it in 2003. By 2014, I called it "the Tea Party mandate." By 2019, "principled opposition." By 2022, "pragmatic concerns." By 2024, I stopped calling it anything. The word narrowed each year. Like a hallway getting shorter. I didn't notice when I stopped walking. You don't notice a word leaving your vocabulary. You reach for it one morning and find empty space where the concept was. Massie held the word. Thirteen years. Every omnibus. Every continuing resolution. Every debt ceiling increase. Every foreign aid package. He pressed the red button and his chest filled with whatever mine used to fill with in 2003 and he called it the same thing I used to call it and he meant it the way I used to mean it. He was replaced by a man whose family operates a 1,200-acre agritourism birthday party venue in Shelbyville. Petting zoo. Corn maze. Hayrides. U-pick strawberries at $3.99 a pound. The soybeans are a tax classification. The "Navy SEAL hero" added a fourth Bronze Star to his biography the month he became a candidate. The "Trump loyalist" left the Republican Party in 2016 because of Trump and came back in 2021 after Trump left office. I don't say this as mockery. I say it as a specification sheet. You don't want a replacement congressman with an MIT engineering degree and patents in haptic robotics. Patents indicate thinking. Thinking introduces variance. Variance is risk. You want a compliance product. Pre-tested messaging. Zero ideological fingerprints. $14 million in someone else's convictions loaded like firmware. The spec sheet works. The corn maze doesn't introduce FARA legislation. The corn maze doesn't file amendments five days before its own execution. The corn maze votes green. Every time. That's the spec. Nobody in Congress said a word about the deepfake. I need you to sit with that. A foreign-interest lobby ran AI-generated sexual imagery of a sitting United States congressman, pornographic, funded by three billionaires who have never visited his district, distributed during the evening news, targeted at elderly voters. And 434 of his colleagues watched it happen and said nothing. The President mocked his dead wife. I need you to sit with that too. Massie's first wife Rhonda died in 2024. His high school sweetheart. They met at MIT. They built the off-grid house together. She died. He remarried in 2025. The President of the United States posted: "His wife will soon find out that she's stuck with a LOSER!" A sitting president. Mocking a widow's new marriage. To a man whose actual crime is voting against a spending bill. And 434 colleagues absorbed that too. In silence. Not one statement. Not one objection. Not one "this is beneath the office." The silence held because the silence is the product. I said nothing. About the deepfake. About the dead wife. About any of it. Saying something is a vote. I don't cast those anymore. Wednesday morning I walked from Rayburn to the chamber. The bells rang. I counted the carpet squares again. Forty-seven. Same as 2003. My hands were not shaking. Nothing was warm. The hallway was quiet. Nobody stopped me. Nobody whipped me. Nobody needed to. The system no longer requires operators. Kentucky was the last manual input. From Wednesday forward the mechanism is self-enforcing. A thermostat. The temperature never deviates because the furnace already knows. I inserted my voting card. I need to be precise about what happened next. My thumb moved to the green button before I finished reading the title of the bill. The thumb knew before the brain. The brain is no longer consulted. It is a vestigial organ in this process. I vote the way you unlock your phone. Muscle memory. The decision was made fourteen months ago and everything since is an echo. The edge of my card is wearing unevenly. The green side is polished smooth from repetition. The red side still has the factory texture. Sharp. Untouched. I held the card up to the light Wednesday morning and looked at it. The physical evidence of what I've become, embossed in plastic. A machine that presses one button. In March I drafted a Dear Colleague letter opposing an appropriations rider. Three paragraphs. Fiscal responsibility. Deficit language I've used for twenty-four years. The same language every Republican in Congress used from 2009 to 2017. The letter is in my drafts folder. Between a constituent reply I answered and a fundraising schedule I followed. The two things I still do. Answer and follow. I don't initiate anymore. Initiation is a vote. Thursday a second-term member stopped me outside the cloakroom. He asked how you know when a bill is worth opposing. He's twenty-nine. He's been here fourteen months. Same duration as my silence. He has never seen a "no" vote from anyone in leadership. He was asking how dissent works the way you'd ask a museum docent how a rotary phone works. I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. Not because I was being careful. Because I genuinely did not have an answer. The knowledge is gone. Not suppressed. Uninstalled. The way a language dies when the last native speaker dies. I am not the last speaker. The last speaker was removed in Kentucky on Tuesday. A colleague drafted a co-sponsorship for Massie's AIPAC Act on Tuesday afternoon. FARA reform. He deleted it Wednesday morning. Nobody called him. Nobody threatened him. He deleted it the way you delete an unsent text at 2 AM. The self-preservation is automated now. You don't need to be threatened. You threaten yourself. The overhead is zero. I want to be honest about something I noticed Thursday morning. I read the appropriations summary. The one I would have opposed in 2003. The one Massie opposed on Tuesday and was destroyed for. I read it at my desk at 6:40 AM with coffee. And I agreed with it. Not performatively. Not as survival. I read the summary and thought: this makes sense. This is a reasonable allocation. I agreed with the spending. And then I stopped. Because I couldn't tell when I started believing that. Was it before Kentucky or after? Was it before fourteen months of green buttons or after? Did I change my mind, or did my mind change itself the way a river changes course, slowly, through erosion, until one morning the water is somewhere else and you can't find the old bed? Is this compliance or is this my position? Can I locate the seam between what I choose and what I've been trained to choose? I sat at my desk for a long time. The coffee went cold. I couldn't find the seam. It's gone. The compliance and the belief have merged into one thing and I cannot take them apart. I think the spending is correct. I think Massie was naive. And I don't know if I think that or if $32 million taught me to think that and the teaching was so gradual that I experienced it as my own conclusion. That is what I want to tell you. Not that I'm afraid. Not that I'm coerced. That I can no longer tell. The word "no" didn't just leave my voting record. It left my mind. The button and the belief are the same circuit again. Same as 2003. Except in 2003 the circuit was mine. Sometimes at night I think about— No. I sleep fine. I told you. I sleep fine. Tuesday night I watched the concession. Massie stood in front of his supporters — people who drove hours, who knocked doors, who believed the word still existed — and he said this: "If the legislative branch always votes with the president, we do have a king. But if lawmakers follow the Constitution, we have a republic." The crowd cheered. They chanted "2028!" They chanted "President!" They still have the word. It lives in that room in Kentucky, in the throats of people who drove to a concession speech on a Tuesday night because they still believe dissent is a right and not a luxury good priced at $32 million. I heard the quote. I sat in my office in Rayburn and I heard it and I knew it was true. If the legislative branch always votes with the president, we have a king. The next morning I walked forty-seven carpet squares and voted with the president. I knew what I was making. I made it anyway. The quote is true. I know the quote is true. The quote costs $32 million to act on and I don't have $32 million. So the quote is true and I am making a king and I am doing it with a green button every time the bells ring and I will do it tomorrow and I will do it next week and the truth of the quote changes nothing because truth doesn't have a budget. Truth has a concession speech. He lost by 4.4 points. $32 million for 4.4 points. $7.27 million per percentage point. A few thousand voters in a district of 478,000. That's how thin the margin was between a republic and a king. The width of a streaming subscription. The thickness of a bumper sticker. The weight of the word "no" when three billionaires are standing on it. The word was "accountability." The President ran on releasing the Epstein files. I was there. I heard the applause lines. My constituents want those files. They write me. They email. They stop me at diners. Thomas Massie confronted the Attorney General in a hearing room. He read the names from the unsealed documents. He called the redactions a cover-up to her face. She cited the Dow Jones Industrial Average. Then Massie posted a public proof-of-life. "I am not suicidal. My brakes work. I practice good trigger discipline." A United States congressman certifying his own continued existence because he asked one question about one file. That was the cost of asking. Before Kentucky. Before $32 million. Before the price list was published. Nobody will ask again. I won't ask. The files will remain redacted. Not because they're classified. Because the last man who demanded them in a hearing was made into a price tag, and the price tag is now mounted on the wall of every congressional office in the building. The President ran on no more wars. Massie voted against every foreign military authorization for thirteen years. Every one. He took Article I, Section 8 literally. Congress declares war. Not the President. The Constitution is plain text. He read the plain text. He was the only Republican still voting no on blank-check authorizations by 2024. He is gone now. The next authorization will pass without a recorded vote. Because recorded votes are accountable votes and accountable votes cost $32 million. "Release the files." "No more wars." "Drain the swamp." Campaign promises. Bumper stickers. Applause lines. Every single one required one thing from Congress. The word "no." No to redactions. No to cover-ups. No to unauthorized war. No to the budget that funds the swamp. The man who said "no" is gone. The voters who cheered for accountability voted for the candidate endorsed by the machine that destroyed the last accountable man in the building. I don't say this to blame them. I say this because both things are true simultaneously. The voters wanted accountability. The donors wanted compliance. Compliance has a budget. Accountability has a bumper sticker. $32 million divided by 478,000 voters in Kentucky's 4th district. That's $66.95 per constituent. Sixty-seven dollars per person to override an entire district's will. Less than a streaming subscription. Three billionaires from Manhattan paid the dinner check for 478,000 people and ordered for them. There is a woman in my district. Peggy. She has been to every town hall I've held since 2003. Twenty-four years. She brings a yellow legal pad. She writes down my answers in blue ink. She told me once, in 2011, outside a VFW hall, that she keeps all the pads in a box in her closet. A box of my positions. Dated. Transcribed. Fifteen years of promises in her handwriting. I haven't held a town hall in six months. I don't know how to stand in front of Peggy with her legal pad and explain that the box in her closet is an archive of a dead language. That the man who said those things doesn't exist anymore. That somewhere between 2003 and this Wednesday his vocabulary was narrowed and his button was automated and his chest stopped filling with warmth and he started sleeping fine and agreeing with the spending and he doesn't remember when any of it happened. I don't know what Peggy would write on her pad now. There's nothing to transcribe. I don't say things anymore. I press a button. The button is green. It has been green for fourteen months. Liz Cheney lost by thirty-seven points. Bill Cassidy finished third. Third. In his own primary. For a vote five years ago. Ten Republicans voted to impeach. Eight are gone. Elon Musk promised to support Massie. "I will." Two words. Ten months of silence. Zero dollars. The world's richest man decided one endorsement was priced too high. C-SPAN recorded Thursday's vote. Green across the board. Unanimous. Historians will see consensus. They will not see 434 people who watched Kentucky and did the math. Consensus and compliance are identical on camera. That is not a flaw. That is the product. You elected me twelve times. You knocked on doors. You put signs in your yard. You trusted me to say "no" when no was the right answer. Here is what your trust buys in 2026. A man who walks forty-seven carpet squares and feels nothing. Who presses green before he reads the title. Whose card wears unevenly. Who drafted a letter and will never send it. Who watched AI-generated pornography of a colleague funded by three billionaires and said nothing. Who did the math in eleven minutes and slept fine. Who lost a word and then lost the word for losing it. Who agreed with the spending Thursday morning and cannot tell you whether he chose to agree or was trained to agree and knows the difference no longer matters. Your congressman is loyal now. Your files are sealed. Your wars are unvoted. Your swamp is funded. The man who was doing what your bumper sticker says is in Kentucky now. Powerless. Replaced by a corn maze with a compliance guarantee. I'm loyal. That's the word. The only one left. The word was—

@BellatrixLux369 @rushicrypto I wasn't a child and my reaction is the same. This "feels" sinister.

@rushicrypto if you were there at the time, you were a child, and hopefully realize how different your perspective is now?

I have heard people claim that the reaction people are having against AI is the same reaction people had when the internet started to be introduced. And as someone who was there at the time, I can tell you NO IT FUCKING WASN'T.

@SethAbramson All you had to do was vote Kamala.....

This is only the beginning. He has no plans to leave office or allow free elections. Nor are his plans hidden—they're all unfolding in plain sight. The Insurrection never ended and the Christofascists won't stop until our democracy is gone. Choose who you'll be in this moment.

@mehdirhasan The level of corruption pales in comparison to "waste, fraud and abuse"

Insane. Just insane.

@KyleKulinski The level of corruption pales in comparison to "waste, fraud and abuse".

I don’t know if people understand that what the Trump regime is doing is historic. They are looting the treasury right in front of our eyes as they collapse the economy and start illegal wars of aggression. The corruption is so severe and brazen that it truly boggles the mind to take it all in.

@AWeissmann_ x.com/i/status/20568…

BLANCHE: "The United States...is hereby FOREVER BARRED and PRECLUDED from prosecuting or pursuing...examinations or similar or related reviews" against Trump "or related or affiliated individuals," including family members or related companies and trusts.

@KellyLMcCarty @KingsRow911 @lonetater And that would be worse than the present system how?

That’s not how it works. Ranked choice voting doesn’t just count who got the most votes first. If nobody gets over 50%, the candidate in last place is eliminated and those votes get redistributed to voters’ second choices. This repeats round after round until one candidate crosses 50%. That means the ‘top candidate’ from the first round can still lose later if enough redistributed votes go to someone else. The bottom candidate gets knocked out first, but the early frontrunner can also eventually be eliminated if they can’t build majority support. Meaning the 2nd choice person is usually the winner. The top and last get knocked out. It’s how you end up with feckless politicians.

Just voted down rank choice voting in SC. This is one of the worst ideas in politics!

Reporter: The DOJ has this new fund — $1.7 billion. Why should taxpayers pay for the January 6ers? Trump: Because in my world, loyalty outranks law. They broke the rules for me, so you pay the bill for them. That’s the transaction.

@MBorogroves @drantbradley I only post on what I know. In the 1950s, SC constructed hundreds of African American equalization schools. My former high school was one of them. Due to school attendance zonings in favor of white students and opposition to desegregation, attendance dropped and schools closed.

@BWcobra78 @drantbradley Numbers drive closures. My kids' elementary and middle schools are now closed and it's in a primarily white area of town. Could it be that black families are seeking better and safer schools and moving their kids. I recall in Chicago, the majority of kids went to Catholic schools

🧵 My Latest: America is quietly shutting down elementary schools all over the country. California, Texas, Georgia, New Jersey, Arizona, Pennsylvania, and so on. Not one school here or there. Entire waves of closures. And almost nobody wants to say the real reason why.

@PantsPale @rirokpik Can we limit the discussion to this specific incident? A hit dog will holler though. I wonder why there are so little historic photographs of black on white violence? Feel free to post if you have them.

@rirokpik Yep. He was totally innocent. He was black and blacks never do anything wrong ever. The only reason whites hate blacks is the darker skin. Its never because of anything to do with actions because their actions are always angelic on earth. How can people hate people who r so great

In 1899, Sam Hose was accused of killing his employer during a wage dispute in Georgia. White newspapers at the time spread false and exaggerated stories, including accusations of sexual assault, which fueled racist outrage. A white mob captured him, tortured him publicly, mutilated him, and burned him alive while thousands watched. Parts of his body were taken as souvenirs, a horrifying symbol of racist terror during the Jim Crow era.

@MBorogroves @drantbradley "Majority-Black schools (including many historically African American ones) have faced disproportionately high closure rates compared to schools serving other groups, both historically after desegregation and in recent decades."

@BWcobra78 @drantbradley How do you account for the public schools that are majority Hispanic or even Korean, as was the case in my district?

@MBorogroves @drantbradley If your historically ethnic high school is still open, I'm not referring to your demographic.

@drterrysimpson Thanks for proving we have to be twice as smart to be considered average.

Ah the Department of Justice playing bad statistical games What also troubles me is the willingness to take a tiny number of extraordinarily accomplished Black students, reduce them to statistical abstractions, and then build a national moral panic around the assumption that they could not possibly belong at Yale on merit. These are students with academic metrics that exceed the average admissions standards at most medical schools in America. Yet instead of recognizing that reality, critics perform statistical gymnastics to imply fraud, inferiority, or illegitimacy — while largely ignoring the dozens of non-Black students admitted within the very same score ranges. At some point this stops being a serious inquiry into admissions policy and starts becoming a racialized exercise in proving that  Black excellence must somehow be counterfeit.

@drterrysimpson Thank you for having time to respond. It's greatly appreciated.

I once met a student who raised his MCAT score from a 25 to a 30 after taking a commercial test prep course. Did the prep course make him a better future physician? Did it improve his empathy, judgment, communication, professionalism, surgical skill, diagnostic reasoning under uncertainty, or ability to care for frightened patients at 2 AM? Or did it mostly make him better at taking the MCAT? That is the central problem with treating standardized testing as if it were synonymous with clinical excellence.