How Phil Robertson, Duck Dynasty, and A&E Killed the Gay Moment

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Have you ever seen a moment end?

I watched Duck Dynasty once or twice. I don’t get it.

That makes me different. Fourteen million people watch the show every week. That’s more than watch any other show on television. Clearly, I’m a little odd, especially among conservatives.

That’s okay. I’m used to being weird.

I never expected that a reality TV show would stop a “moment.” But that’s exactly what’s happened. The “Gay Moment” is dead.

Back in 1999, Richard Brookhiser identified (accurately) the “Gay Moment” in America.

The moment we are in now is the Gay Moment. The Gay Moment can be explained and defined, though it is easier to describe, and easiest simply to experience. That is the quality of Moments — they are out there, just beyond your eyelids.

Brookhiser provides context for those who don’t understand what a “moment” is by describing other “moments.”

There have been two previous Moments in the 20th century. Irish Catholics had one from about 1900 to World War II; Jews followed them, until yesterday. The Irish Moment crystallized around athletes, actors, pols, and cops — tough guys you liked. A typical figure was Fr. Francis P. Duffy, chaplain of the 165th Infantry (“The Fighting Irish”) in World War I. There is a statue of him in Times Square. He grips a Bible; he could knock your block off; he is smiling. The Jewish Moment threw up comics, writers, and intellectuals-wise guys you liked. A typical figure was Saul Bellow, whose style was criticized, when he first appeared, as “Yinglish.” But this was in fact its allure, rattling like an express subway train from con men to Nietzsche.

So we’ve lived the Gay Moment for at least 13 years. Probably longer. I think the Gay Moment began when Michael Stivic’s flamoyant friend visited 704 Hauser Street in Queens.–where Archie Bunker lived. Archie figured Roger the photographer was gay, so he retreated to Kelsey’s Bar to have drinks with an old Army buddy. Turns out the Army buddy was gay and Roger wasn’t.

Thus began the Gay Moment. February 9, 1971. That was almost 43 years ago.

Now do the math:

Irish Moment: 1900 to 1945–44 years.

Jewish Moment: 1946 to 1999–53 years.

Gay Moment: 1971 to ????– about 50 years.

People might be put off by a television personality who regards homosexuality as a sin, just as people are put off by music stars who twerk. In America, though, we expect the markets, not the censors, to decide whether opinions and behaviors of personalities warrant ostracism.

A&E played censor and deprived the market its opportunity to cast judgment on Phil Robertson. In a well-ordered society and economy, A&E would suffer the consequences or enjoy the benefits of that decision. But in America, large corporations are indemnified from their own bad judgment. So the consequences of A&E’s judgment of Phil Robertson will fall on its proxy: the Gay Moment.

When a conservative friend told me Thursday “who cares” about Duck Dynasty, I was reminded of Richard Brookhiser’s opinion of why moments end:

The real end will be boredom. Like the Irish and the Jews before them, gays will run out of things to say. The force field will collapse. People will realize that Oscar Wilde was a witty craftsman, not a great modernist; that Gore Vidal is a vain old chatterbox, not Henry Adams; that Lesley Gore was a mediocre pop singer, not a goddess. Some other well-spoken outsiders will audition for center stage. We’ll all move on.

The Gay Moment is over. I hope conservatives understand this news. Then we can get back to important things, like life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness–none of which has anything to do with sexual preferences.

Here’s a Secret about the GOP My Friends Told Me Not To Share

Reading Time: 6 minutes

I nearly killed my nephew, Scott, when he was about seven-years-old. I was 15 or so.

We were at Sunnen Lake near Potosi, Missouri. My dad worked at Sunnen Products, and the company provided Sunnen Lake as a free recreation spot for employees and retirees. (Pretty cool perk.)

The recreation complex was pretty rustic then. About ten cabins, a recreation hall with ping-pong and a huge fireplace. The big parking lot near the Rec Hall was covered with pea-size brown and tan gravel held in place by an eight-inch railroad tie wall. My mom and dad had already entered the Rec Hall. My friend Dan and I were walking with Scotty in the same direction.

Dan, Scotty, and I were about to cross the parking lot on our way to the Rec Hall. Scotty was four paces behind us, trying to keep up on his little legs. I told him to hurry. Scotty started running. He passed me as Dan and I stepped over the tie wall. Scotty jumped over it.

I flicked Scott’s right ankle with the baseball bat I carried. Just barely. I wasn’t trying to break his leg or anything. I just tapped him with the handle as he flew by. But it was enough of a tap to send him flying farther than he’d planned.

He landed on his belly about four feet beyond the wall, sliding through the loose gravel. Dan burst out in laughter. I did, too. I figured the slide would protect from injury, usually caused by the sudden stop. Unfortunately, some of the gravel actually penetrated his skin.

He came up bloody and screaming. Dan and I dropped out baseball gear and grabbed the little tyke. And the first words out of my mouth to calm the terrified child?

“Don’t tell Grandma and Grandpa!”

Republican Elitists Don’t Want Us To Tell On Them

I know a secret about the Republican Party that a lot of people want me to keep to myself. John Boehner’s assault on the grassroots groups that handed him the Speaker’s gavel unloosed my tongue.

In 2008, the GOP was flat on its back. Long-time Republicans were ready to throw in the towel. They’d lost Congress in a wave in 2006. Then they lost to the White House to a candidate four steps to the left of Lenin.

Why did they loose those two elections? You can blame Bush, if you want, but Bush wasn’t running Congress. The GOP establishment was. This quote comes from NY Times, November 12, 2008:

“Conservatives were silent when Republican Congressional leaders massively expanded government,” said Richard A. Viguerie, a longtime leader of the movement. “Going forward you are going to see conservatives look to themselves for leadership.”

(I wrote a 10-part plan for recovery on November 4, 2008, about which more in due course.)

As Wall Street burned and markets crashed, Republicans began “soul searching” for the second time in two years.

The GOP’s soul search found nothing.

The next February, with Congressional Republicans frightened and humbled, ordinary people took to the streets and the parks to stop bail-out madness. That February eruption caught fire and turned into a long, hot summer of demonstrations, protests, and rallies. Obama’s hopes of passing Obamacare before the August 2009 recess burned to the ground, and the Tea Party danced, prematurely, on its grave at the August Recess Rallies.

Then, Andrew Breitbart launched BigGovernment.com with the release of James O’Keefe’s damning ACORN Pimp and Hooker videos. We were in Quincy, Illinois, that weekend, with Breitbart, Mike Flynn, and others. It was surreal sitting in a booth at the bar inside the new Holiday Inn in Quincy, as Breitbart and Flynn sat feet away monitoring the aftershocks of O’Keefe’s videos playing out on the Sunday talk shows.

At that moment, we knew the Tea Party was a force. So we set out to save the Republicans from themselves.

We did. Sort of.

On election night 2008, I wrote a 10-part plan for conservative resurgence.  Here’s the first point:

The conservative movement must forget the Republican party.  If the GOP wants to come along with us, they’re welcome.  But we won’t listen to their nonsense about “big tents” and “get over Reagan.”  The Republican party was an irresponsible steward of conservatism for the past 20 years.  Tonight it got its just deserts.  Too bad the rest of us have to endure re-education camps, economic depression, and malaise because of [the Republicans].  We’ll run as Republicans, but the morons who orchestrated this abortion better not even think about telling us how to do it.

In 2010, the Tea Party led the charge to take back Congress and state houses across the country. Over 800 legislative seats changed from blue to red that November. Nancy Pelosi lost her gavel to John Boehner.

I don’t remember if the GOP thanked the Tea Partiers for giving up their lives, taking their kids out of sports, and turning their happy, quiet private lives into public objects of ridicule. Maybe they did. I honestly don’t remember.

All I know is that, between November 7, 2010, and December 11, 2013, the Republicans retreated to their establishment, country club fallout shelters left over from the Eisenhower era.

In 2012, the establishment chose a “safe” candidate in Mitt Romney–architect of the model on which Obamacare was based. They ignored advice of David Schriberman, November 23, 2008:

Former Gov. Mitt Romney of Massachusetts may try again, mostly because he can afford it and he can’t take his eyes off the prize, and so might former House Speaker Newt Gingrich of Georgia, but I’m betting the next GOP nominee’s name won’t be preceded by the word “former.” The fact that many of you have never heard of Gov. Bobby Jindal of Louisiana or Sen. John Thune of South Dakota might be the best thing they (and the Republicans) have going for them.

But the establishment knew better. They nominated Romney’s millions. And they lost worse than in 2008. Not because of a surge of enthusiasm for Barack Obama, but because about 5 million center-right voters stayed home.

So what’s that nasty secret my Republican friends don’t want me to say in public?

I think 2016 might be the Republican Party’s last national election.

I don’t have a ton of hard facts to rely on, but I do have the generational cycles of history to look to. We’re in a Crisis Turn right now. It began about 2007 or 2008. The catalyst was likely the fall of Lehman Brothers. It will last 15 to 20 years and culminate in a climax. Previous Crisis Turns ended with the American Revolution, the Civil War, and World War II.

During these Crisis turnings, society is remade. This is from Lifecourse Associates website:

Several years after the catalyst, society enters a regeneracy, a drawing together of the community in response to a worsening outlook and a growing determination to surmount the challenge. Thus regenerated, a society then propels toward a climax—a crucial moment that confirms the death of the old order and triumph of the new. The climax can end well, badly, or some combination of both. Either way, it shakes a society to its roots, transforms institutions, redirects social purposes, and marks people (and generations) for life. Eventually, the mood transforms into the exhaustion and relief of resolution, the moment when treaties are signed and celebrations are staged.

The Republican Party was remade in the Depression. Having formed to end slavery, the Republicans were the original corruptocrats from the late 19th century through Prohibition. Throughout the early 20th century, Democrats and Republicans shared a common view that government was the solution to all human problems. Herbert Hoover was Democrat who ran as a Republican to give himself a better chance of winning the White House. Hoover previously expanded government for the Wilson administration.

Senator Robert Taft of Ohio led the drive to turn the GOP into the party on the right in the 1940s and 1950s. Taft, assisted by William F. Buckley, Barry Goldwater, L. Brent Bozell, and other conservatives, fought the Republican establishment, pulling the GOP to the right. By 1964, grassroots conservatives amassed enough power to nominate Barry Goldwater. The next year, actor Ronald Reagan left the Democrats to join the Republicans.

During the post-WWII era, which began in 1946 and ended with the financial crisis of 2007-2008, the Republicans remained a party on the right. Though infused with establishment, pro-business types, the party recognized that its electoral strength lay in a precarious coalition of libertarians, defense hawks, and social conservatives–all Reagan voters. These factions held together because people had faith in the party.

But that coalition remained fragile. Faint hopes and small wins kept the grassroots going. Despite some differences on issues, the three conservative factions held a few common beliefs:

  • Governments were created by people and have no powers that are not expressly delegated
  • Everyone in the government has a duty to manage public money and property in the interest of those who pay taxes
  • Government’s first duty is to protect its citizens from foreign attack and domestic crime
  • When a government exercise powers that we never delegated, we have the right and the duty to rebuke or dissolve the abusive government

Those four simple beliefs inspired thousands of people in 50 cities to stage a one-day protest against government abuse of power on February 27, 2009. That protest turned into the Tea Party movement. That movement upset the House of Representatives in 2010, among many other electoral changes.

Unfortunately, the party that benefited most from us tea partiers has chosen to sacrifice its grassroots benefactors on the altar of Big Business. Because of that, the GOP looks like the walking dead.

But I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.

Photo by Shane McGraw, some rights reserved. Reproduced under Creative Commons license.

The Ultimate Guide to Becoming Divergent

Reading Time: 4 minutes

At least once every human should have to run for his life, to teach him that milk does not come from supermarkets, that safety does not come from policemen, that ‘news’ is not something that happens to other people. He might learn how his ancestors lived and that he himself is no different–in the crunch his life depends on his agility, alertness, and personal resourcefulness.”– Robert Heinlein

I’m falling in love with teenage girls. Does that make me different?

I’ll tell you more about that later. First, I want to talk about the crumbling mess that is the Republican Party.

House Speaker John Boehner chose this week to declare war on conservatives. Especially conservatives who don’t have a lot of money or personal connections to Washington. In other words, people who can’t pay lobbyists to buy Boehner expensive wine and cartons of cigarettes.

Boehner says conservatives have “lost all credibility.” We’ve sold out by using his inept, failed Speakership as a fundraising tool.

Hah! I have not tried to raise a PENNY on Boehner’s failures as a leader, as a strategist, or as Speaker. You’re wrong, John. Have another gallon of Chianti. (I’m enjoying a cheap but delicious Cabernet Sauvignon, myself.)

I’d like to remind Boehner, and all of the Capitol leaders, that his Republican Party was flat on its back after the 2008 election. After Roy Blunt and Paul Ryan cut a deal to support TARP to bailout billionaires and ensure no Wall Street banker would ever suffer the consequences of his own horrible financial gambles.

Perhaps Boehner remembers that the media, academics, and ordinary folk all declared the GOP dead on November 4, 2008. After a decade of profligate spending, botched wars, and inept messaging, Americans were ready to elect a mystical socialist over anything with an R behind its name.

Then, on February 27, 2009, about 10,000 people went out in the cold at noon to protest. We got some press coverage. We were freaks. “Conservatives don’t protest,” the press said.

But we did. We protested loud. And we liked it.

So we did it some more. We did all through the long, hot summer of 2009. We did it while union thugs beat down cancer patients in South County parking lots. We did it in the snow and the heat. We did it all across St. Louis and Missouri and the USA.

And somewhere along the line, Republicans’ testes descended again. People like Roy Blunt and John Boehner found their man-voices. Buoyed by the Tea Party strength, old guard Republicans decided they still had a chance.

Then the GOP took the House in 2010. It took a bunch of state legislatures and governorships and secretaries of states.

But the Establishment looked its gift-horse in the mouth and decided that a couple of botched Senate races made the rest of the victories meaningless.

“All the big donations and graft involve the Senate,” the GOP declared. “Without the Senate, we might as well be county council members.”

So the GOP worked to put down the rabble. And it’s been putting us down ever since.

You all know the story. You know the slights, the insults, the cowardice of the Republican Party. I won’t repeat them here. Besides, it’s not appropriate for teenage girls. Which brings me back to the teenage girl thing.

I read all three “Hunger Games” books a couple weekends ago.  Then I read “Ender’s Game.” Then started on “Divergent.”

Ender’s Game is an excellent, important book, but it’s not nearly as entertaining to me as The Hunger Games and Divergent.  Maybe that’s because the latter two have teenage girl protagonist, while the former’s protagonist is prepubescent boy. Or maybe it’s because the latter two smack of reality in the US of A, circa 2013.

In The Hunger Games series, Katniss Everdeen, a 17-year-old girl, inspires the beaten-down people of a dystopian future America to rise up and sack the Capitol. The Capitol, one of 12 districts in a country called Panem, has enslaved the rest of North America.  Jim Quinn of The Burning Platform blog explains the books, and their relevance to the Fourth Turning. Suffice it to say that The Hunger Games story so affected me that I’m seriously thinking about getting a mockingjay tattoo.

In Divergent, 16-year-old Beatrice Prior leaves the faction of her birth to join a wild, dangerous faction charged with security in a dystopian Chicago. (Although, the real Chicago of 2013 is probably way more dystopian than the one described in Divergent.) Beatrice become Tris and thwarts a plot by the intellectuals to kill all the good people.

Clipped from CNN.com

Both stories tell–or foreshadow–the story of 21st century America. The elite want to enslave or eliminate all the rabble. Whether it’s Obamacare or Big Business, you and I have no place in the elite’s America, except to pile up debt, go to work, pay taxes, buy stuff we don’t need, and die before we need too much medical treatment.

When I read Boehner’s attacks on me and my friends and the institutions I admire, I decided I’m not going to play the Captiol’s game anymore. I’m now a factionless divergent, like Tris Prior.

We are like the factionless now. I do not know what life will be like, separated from faction–it feels disengaged, like leaf separated from the tree that gives it sustenance. We are creatures of loss; we have left everything behind. I have no home, no path, and no certainty. I am no long Tris the selfless or Tris the brave.

I suppose that now I must become more than either.

— from Divergent, by Veronica Roth

What does that mean?

I’m not sure. But I’m less worried about the next election. I want to work on getting better at self-governance. I want to start a business that eventually gives people good jobs and adds value to the world. I want to live more as an example and less as an enabler of bad politics.

I wish I could I tell you that I feel strong, emancipated, free, and invincible. I don’t. I feel like Tris: a creature of loss.

I’d invite you to join me, but I’m not sure where I’m going.

If you do join me, you’ll probably lose some friends. People will look at you like you’re weird. Who cares? The factionless, the people of the districts, they’re all weird.

But they don’t bow down to clowns who think they know best how everyone else should live. And they don’t feed off the bodies of the districts’ young.

That’s why I’m falling in love with teenage girls. They know how to be divergent.

My Favorite St. Louis Tea Party Wasn’t a Tea Party At All

Reading Time: 5 minutes

My son, Jack, crashed into the house about midnight. (Not literally. He just made a lot of noise coming through the door.)

“You were on The Daily Show,” he shouted.

“I know.”

“You know how big a deal that is?”

“Well, I was on Glenn Beck and Neill Cavuto, Larry Kudlow . . .”

“Dad, no. You don’t get it. everybody watched Jon Stewart. Everybody I know called me.”

I’ll get back to that.

On Monday, I asked for your “high-water mark” among the hundreds of St. Louis Tea Party events since February 2009. I also promised to reveal my candidate.

By “high-water mark,” I mean the event that had the most positive impact on the movement. (I probably should have defined the term Monday. Sorry.) I chose that definition carefully. I think a movement’s high-water mark comes when it knows it can change culture.

Before my reveal, some bad news. We didn’t capitalize on that magical moment. We didn’t. We shifted too quickly to electoral politics when we were poised to drive a massive change in America’s culture. At the time, I thought the most important thing was the 2010 election. It wasn’t. The most important thing to America’s future–then and now–is culture.

See, culture is key. I’ve always known this, but I’ve also always fallen victim to shiny objects. Elections are shiny objects. So is Agenda 21, HSUS, Blueways, and Common Core. (Yeah, I’m against them. But if I were a progressive mastermind, I’d be feeding those distractions to my opponents to keep them away from the serious work I’m doing.)

This article reminded me of the importance of culture: “How To Invest In The Era Of Collective Solipsism” by Ben Hunt on BusinessInsider.com:

The modern dystopia of Dave Egger’s The Circle is similarly based on the voluntary nature of stable totalitarianism. It’s a fascist corporatist state with a giant smiley face, full of “likes” and “friends” and really good healthcare plans, but a fascist corporatist state nonetheless. What Eggers captures wonderfully is the insatiable hunger and constant aggrandizement of a collectivist philosophy – any collectivist philosophy, even one with cool technology and efficient services – that believes we know your self-interest better than you know your self-interest.

Eye opening, .

And we had a chance to disrupt that march to a modern, fascist dystopia–we effed it up. Or, I effed it up.

Maybe this will make more sense if I tell you my idea of STLTPC’s high-water mark.

It was Gina Loudon’s Whole Foods Market BUYcott. September 1, 2009.

The Tea Party movement was young. CNN and the hardest of the hard left were already calling us racist baby killers, but Americans in general either loved us or thought we were innocuous. Since February of that year, we’d been angry, don’t you know. Yelling and waving mean=spirited signs in the faces of otherwise happy shoppers. Or, considering it was 2009, the unemployed. As Obama put it, we were “waving our tea bags” hoping he’d fail.

Except for the racist infanticide, they were right. We spent most of 2009 being angry and agitated and inviting others to give up their relaxed comfort and climate-controlled reality TV for some political reality and middle-aged angst.

Then, we departed from the script that we’d given ourselves. John Mackey, president and founder of Whole Foods Markets, became an object of rage for the left. Unions wanted him drawn and quartered for speaking out against Obamacare in his famous Wall Street Journal op-ed. The left erupted upon realizing the founder and president of their favorite Fair Trade supermarket was worse than conservative. John Mackey was a . . . clutch the drapes . . . LIBERTARIAN!

So the unions called a Whole Foods boycott.

The knee-jerk tea party reaction was to protest the unions. That’s what we’d always done–get in the enemy’s face.

But Dr. Gina Loudon put on her psychologist hat and came up with a better solution. Instead of doing what the left expected, which would have been to play Goliath’s game, only weaker, Gina suggested we play a different game. We bring a slingshot.

The slingshot was a BUYcott.

Most tea partiers had never been to Whole Foods Market. We figured Whole Foods was for rich hippies who forgot (or ignored) that Reagan repealed the 60s. We didn’t know, then, that Whole Foods sells the stuff that our grandparents ate, back when “old age” was the leading cause of death.

So we showed up at the Town and Country Whole Foods on a hot day in September. And so did the press. Every local TV news station covered the story. Jon Stewart covered it on The Daily Show.

And that’s when Jack crashed into the house and shouted about seeing his dad on TV.

So, why was that BUYcott so special?

Because it got me on The Daily Show. Duh.

And it demonstrated that we could move the news cycle.

That guy who started the Whole Food boycott couldn’t have made it on TV without us. We were the story; he was the set-up.

Read John Mackey’s remarkable book: Conscious Capitalism

Over 1,000 people shopped at Whole Foods for the first time in their lives that day. The spent over $50,000 (we scanned their receipts), making September 1, 2009, that store’s high-water market in revenue. The BUYcott was the first Tea Party event for about 60 percent of those 1,000 shoppers, based on random sampling of about 100 people.

The BUYcott broke the mold. We weren’t angry. There were no signs or flags. Everybody was happy. We learned about great foods. The people at the store loved us and made a lot of money. And a star of Disney on Ice took a cab to the Whole Foods after her performance to lend her support, because her family was tight with John Mackey.

At that moment, the St. Louis Tea Party had a choice: we could become a creative force for cultural change through positive activism, or we could apply our angry flash mob antics to the 2010 election.

We took the road more traveled. And, at least up to now, that’s made all the difference.

The difference is the pod culture, and our failure to arrest it. As Mr. Hunt says:

As much as it pains me to say this, Hume and Kant and Smith and the rest of the small-l liberal pantheon don’t have a whole lot to offer in our efforts to survive a pod people world. A voluntary acquiescence to the collectivist behavior demanded by the Common Knowledge game poses a huge problem for Hume and Kant and traditional liberalism. What if your independent use of reason and free will leads you to deny your independent use of reason and free will? What if the most effective way to act as if you believe that the Emperor is wearing beautiful clothes is to give yourself over to the crowd-generated reality and actually believe that the Emperor is wearing beautiful clothes?

Luckily, life is fluid. So is culture. And history. We don’t have to accept Hunt’s theory. I’m sure you don’t want Hunt to be right, even though there’s a lot of evidence to back him up.

So, I ask: in our quest to expose the Emperor’s nudity, do we yell at the crowd, “he’s bloody naked?” Or do we stitch together fine vestments worthy of a king? enter image description here

What Was The High Water Mark for St. Louis Tea Party?

Reading Time: 1

Do you realize that’s been nearly five years since I wrote this post? Realizing how time’s flown since 2009, I’ve been a little nostalgic this weekend.

I looked through some of Darin Morley’s excellent videos on YouTube.I searched “St. Louis Tea Party” on duckduckgo.com.

Have you thought about what’s happened?

While Russ Carnahan survived Ed Martin’s remarkable challenge in 2010, Russ is no longer in Congress, and Ed is chairman of Missouri’s Republican Party.

While Obamacare passed and survived a Supreme Court challenge, most Americans are now openly hostile to both the law and its author.

While the Tea Party movement has fewer supporters, its key principle–questioning government–is surging.

While most young voters voted Democrat in 2012, the Millennial generation is quickly becoming the most libertarian generation since Jefferson’s.

Of course, we in Missouri and Illinois played a proportionally small role in those accomplishments. Still, we made things happen. We shook stuff up.

So what was our high water mark? What event or protest or demonstration was the one to hang our hats on? Comments are open. In a few days, I’ll let you know my candidate. It might surprise you.

The GOP Missouri Legislature Is About To Give A Monopoly To A Major Democrat Donor

Reading Time: 2 minutes

“Republican” Rep. Caleb Jones likes money, and Susan B. McCollum has a lot of it. You do the math.

Caleb M Jones - Issues

Jones and Rep. John Diehl co-sponsored HB759, a bill that would effectively give Major Brands, Missouri’s largest alcoholic beverage distributor, a perpetual, state-protected monopoly. In the Senate, Tom Dempsey, no enemy of cash, is a co-sponsor of a similar bill, SB 365.

Conservative and free market groups like the Adam Smith Foundation are lobbying against the insane bills, but McCollum is handing out cash like a lottery winner at the casino.

Why would a Republican want to give a Democrat millionaire a monopoly on booze?

The only thing I can think of is MONEY. Money from the free-spending pocket of Susan B. McCollum.

But McCollum has a truth problem.

Susan McCollum is the attractive CEO of Major Brands. She led Jay Nixon’s transition team outreach program. She donates about $30,000 a year to liberal causes and candidates, including $10,000 to McCaskill, $2,500 to Russ Carhahan, and $5,000 to the McCaskill soft money fund Heart of America PAC in 2012.

When McCollum contributes to a PAC, she lists herself as CEO of Major Brands. But when she donates to liberal candidates, she claims she’s a simple student. When donating to Claire McCaskill’s Heart of America PAC, McCollum was self-employed.

Susan Mccollum - $27,500 in Political Contributions for 2012

Both the student McCollum and the CEO McCollum live at the same address:

PAGE BY PAGE REPORT DISPLAY FOR 12951394812 (Page 7 of 78)

(source: http://www.campaignmoney.com/political/contributions/susan-mccollum.asp?cycle=12)

A reasonable person would conclude that Susan B. McCollum CEO and Susan McCollum Student are one and the same.

So why does Susan McCollum change her occupation with every donation?

Maybe to give Republican friends in the Missouri legislature cover?

Anyway, email your state rep and state Senator and ask them to stop this Democrat take-over of the liquor industry in Missouri.

Stop crony capitalism.