Like, Actual Factual Stuff

No, it's not complicated.

Of course I think that anyone who believes that Tim Walz is moderate is a moron. And in my inconvenient way, a few days ago I asked the most important person in my life, that Democrat-voting hubby of mine Mr Miller, what he thought of Walz.

He believed he was a moderate.

Immediately I wondered, at 55, am I too old to start dating again? The horror and disappointment almost crushed me.

But! To his credit Mr Miller admitted that he hadn’t looked into it very much because he was trying to steer clear of political news in order to keep the peace in our marriage.

This is something I obviously don’t do. I’m just too durn obsessed with the scam to look away. And I cannot pretend all is “joyful” in the Miller household when we’re both judging each other for what the other thinks.

The way I see it, I’d much rather us debate this stuff out in the open than make up stories in our heads about each other. Yes it’s unpleasant, but harboring elaborate dystopian fantasies about your spouse seems much worse, to me anyway. But the mister hates fussin’ and feudin’. He comes from a long line of Germanic feelings presser-downers and I come from a long line of mouthy, passion-soaked Jews.

So! I wouldn’t let it go. What can I say, being inconvenient is my brand. This makes Mr Miller sigh and slump. It’s all so depressing to him. I asked, what does he hate more—me sobbing with seasonal anxiety and depression or me debating politics with him?

He hates the political debates more. Not because he has spousal Munchausen by proxy but because my depression and anxiety always lift, and this will never go away, my new conservative identity.

But this contradicts the question he then asked: “Remember when we read Diet For a New America?”

I was like, of course.

A couple of vegetarian Democrats, July 1, 1995

What happened was, around 1994 I read the book and cried myself to sleep thinking about all the poor animals we didn’t have to eat if only we ate the grain directly and didn’t eat the cows who ate the grain. For more than a dozen years afterward I subsisted on veggie burgers and pasta. And then! In 2008 or so I found out that everything John Robbins had written was wrong. And I became Paleo. Cows are ruminants after all. Robbins’s whole argument was flawed from the git-go. But I wasn’t privy to that information until many years later.

Pass the grass, and vote Republican in November!

I asked Mr Miller, “Do you think me becoming a Republican (I’m technically an Independent) is another Diet For a New America moment? Like I got brainwashed one way and then years later I got brainwashed the opposite way, and one day I’m going to wake up—again—and go back to being a Democrat?”

No, not really, he said. But that’s the way it landed.

Into the nitty and the gritty…

I told Mr Miller that Walz made Minnesota a sanctuary state for “trans kids” and would not stop at separating kids who wished to riddle themselves with testosterone treats (and sugary-sweet surgeries) from their evil non-affirming bigot parents.

Miller said he would look into it.

Look into it he did and came away with more information. He confessed that Walz indeed is a progressive (hooray!) but that children are not going to be separated from non-affirming parents. In other words, I was being a right-winging alarmist.

Which is it though? I really have no idea, as I am unable to decipher the lawspeak of the bill, entitled HF-146. Thoughts?

I wouldn’t trust any of this crew with my kid’s health. Photo Credit: house.mn.gov

On the topic of Imane Khelif, Mr Miller said, “She was born a girl,” and I said, “HE absolutely was NOT.”

Then I explained what you and I know—that Khalif is an XY-bearing male who was, in this specific case, actually assigned female at birth, since he has a Disorder of Sexual Development or DSD, and didn’t look male down there when he was born. We know that Khalif was banned in 2023 from the Women’s Boxing World Championships but allowed to compete in the 2024 Olympics by the IOC, who claimed that Imane is truly female because it says so on “her” passport.

XY—and it shows. Photo credit: Getty Images

Mr Miller conceded my knowledge on the subject with this tell-tale summation: “It’s complicated.”

But since discovering Thomas Sowell I was armed with the wisdom that the truth is actually simple. It’s the cover-up that’s complicated.

Then we talked about immigration, ideological capture, who’s the bigger criminal—Trump or Biden, the media, conservative versus Democrat platforms and other polarizing topics.

I wish I’d recorded it so I could transcribe, but I didn’t and it was such a long conversation that I will summarize thusly:

My argument boiled down to the left being the bigger threat to democracy, accompanied by its media propaganda arm, and his boiled down to Trump being worse, and also implied that I am sucking all the joy out of our marriage with my incessant obsession and predilection for debate.

It’s just a super big downer for him.

But he would never ask me to change who I am. Because that would not be fair and he knows it. Am I trying to change his mind? Why yes. How would I not want that? So I admit it. Is he allowed to have his own opinions? Yes! Of course he is, and I want to know all of them. See, it no longer threatens me. But I can’t say the same for him. Because Mr Miller hated our conversation and is struggling with not only my contrary opinions but with my zeal for discussing them. And he admitted that he feels guilty, about which part exactly I don’t know, but what I do know is that his guilt is not my responsibility. And me, who feels guilty at the drop of a dirty sock, I do not feel guilty for believing what I do or for discussing it with the person I love most in this world, even though I’m frustrated as hell with him (and he with me).

And speaking of responsibility, one of the last things we discussed were “core values.” Mr Miller insinuated that his party aligns with his core values, and mine does not.

I mentioned Kamala having an affair with a married man and thereby being thrust (pun intended) to power that would not have come (another pun) her way without Willie Brown, along with Walz’s now infamous DUI, but also admitted that Trump is no saint. And Miller agreed with that. And he had to admit that I have integrity, or else he wouldn’t be with me. And then I reminded him that his party has no platform, to which he rolled his eyes because apparently I always say that, which felt like the dig that it was, so I went on that the Democrats laud victimhood and promote equity while the Conservative platform encourages personal responsibility and values merit. I mean, core values people. WTF. It makes my head spin.

I cannot imagine waking up one day and ever going back.

Ultimately he doesn’t want to be judged. Well mister, I don’t either. But as we are both humans, we are just doing our jobs. It’s a little thing I like to call reality. It’s not always warm and cozy. Sometimes it’s rainy and cold.

In the end I sent him Yuri Bezmenov’s prophetic pronouncements and asked him to send me whatever about how terribly criminally Trump ran the country when he was president. Because I didn’t pay attention much back then. I just believed he was the bleach-drinkingest worst.

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