We're nearing the end of a four-year run of one of the most incredible performances by a state chief elected official in our state's history.
One old school political ploy is to use your opponent’s strength against them. At the national level, they’ve been doing it for years.
There once was time, two years ago, when the jet bearing the President of the United States, call sign Air Force One, would inspire people all over the world as it made its approach into foreign airports.
We live in the Age of Trump. To different people, that means different things. To true conservatives, even those who couldn’t see Donald Trump as the eventual GOP nominee, most would begrudgingly acknowledge that he is governing as a conservative. Liberal Democrats, on the other hand, see the Trump Administration as a catastrophe in the making.
Like some astrological phenomenon, the call for political unity comes around every four years. After months of backbiting, personal attacks and mean-spirited infighting, immediately following bitter primary election battles, the victors hold pressers, victory parties and street gatherings to issue calls for togetherness.
No doubt the sickness that resulted in discourse's death began long ago, probably when the two-party system was created. But there's little question that the approach of death has quickened with the election of the 45th President of the United States.
We really have no one else to blame, we do it to ourselves. What does that mean? For starters, it refers to the increasing coarseness of our dialogue, especially our political discourse.
It took a while. For the longest time, the true appeal of Donald Trump escaped me. Where others saw a challenge to the status quo, I saw a fundamental lack of qualification. Where others saw business savvy, I saw a basketful of bovine excrement. Where others saw celebrity status, I saw a narcissist on steroids. Where others saw a conservative firebrand, I saw a former liberal Democrat, one that defended the principle of eminent domain, was pro-abortion and anti-gun.
Look, there’s no doubt that President Donald Trump brings out the best and the worst in each of us, depending on one’s ideology.
It’s almost as if the best description of our local political scene is the Mos Eisley bar scene in the first Star Wars movie. An odd and slightly scary collection of characters, many new to the scene, some funny, some familiar, some appealing and some off-putting.
So far, we’ve examined the races for Maryland governor, as well as that for Frederick county executive. Now for a look at the more local, rubber-meets-the-road offices at Winchester Hall.
The wrap-up to this series on the June 26 primary election focuses on the race for Frederick County Executive, in what will no doubt be the highest profile local race this year.
Call it a sabbatical, or maybe just a chance to let things shake out a bit. Honestly, our national, state and local political scene has been so confounding of late, the smarter play was to observe and process more, and to – therefore – write less.
Natural disasters are reasonably predictable, or at least our 24/7 news cycle presents us with sufficient notice to be at least partially prepared for the worst aspects. Two recent examples, Hurricanes Harvey and Irma, offer both proof and consequences.
Everywhere you look, everything you read, and almost everything you hear these days regards either the existence or the removal of iconic historical monuments to those who fought for the losing side in our “long national struggle.”
140 characters. Social media platform Twitter created the infamous text limit in order to allow messages to be sent by the Short Message Service, or SMS. Anyone wishing to express a thought on Twitter must cull it down to the essentials, and say whatever needs saying with only 140 characters.
C-Span is like crack cocaine for a political junkie. Once you turn it on, even just the audio stream, morbid curiosity keeps you tuned to the unfolding train wreck. Add in the Trump Administration’s responses, and it’s truly one of the world’s most compelling forms of entertainment.
As a Founding Father, John Adams said: “The moment the idea is admitted into society that property is not as sacred as the law of God, and that there is not a force of law and public justice to protect it, anarchy and tyranny commence.”
They told us it was collusion. Whispered conversations between Trump campaign officials and Russian government officials, in the dark hallways of power in Washington, in secret meetings in Trump Tower, or in tightly access-controlled government buildings in the former Soviet Union.
In yesterday’s column, the removal of the Roger Brooke Taney bust from in front of Frederick City Hall was the basis of an examination of the role of monuments to remind us from where we’ve come.
It starts with a perceived wrong. It ends with the pretense that by altering a physical representation, we can remove a blight from our nation’s history.
Recently, Frederick County celebrated the first two years of the Charter form of government. Okay, maybe celebrate isn’t the right word, at least not for everyone.
Take a trip to Monticello, the home and final resting place of Thomas Jefferson, the third President of the United States of America. Really, if you haven’t already, take the trip!
Dopey instincts. We’ve all got them. What distinguishes the real dopes from the rest of us occasional dopes is that most of us skillfully manage the tendency to think and act like a real dope.
The funny thing about national elections is that they often don’t end up as envisioned by political pundits. On rare occasions, the outcome rattles the political establish to its core, and the repercussions are felt long afterward.
Last week, the National Republican Convention drew party faithful to Cleveland, Ohio, like moths to a flame. Luckily, the only one who got burned was anarchists, whose flame jumped to their own clothing from the American flag they were trying to burn, and to their fellow protestors.
On some inexplicable level, the idea of the Donald Trump candidacy is truly appealing. Is it the whole outsider thing? Is it the aspirational interest in the rogue billionaire who largely self-funded the primary campaign? Is it the thumb in the eye to the political and media establishment?
In the last few weeks, Frederick’s local news has been replete with non-political stories about political personalities, both those who serve in office currently and those who used to. Much of that news has been less than flattering.
It sounded like the salve to our political wounds, a form of government that promised focused vision, cooperation and responsibility. For decades, the process of running a large and complex county by committee, with five people who shared executive and legislative duties, was clunky, confusing and often led to crazy ideological swings every four years (Growth vs. No Growth).