You can buy stupidity by the pound.

 Here's a tighter, more humorous version that keeps your Appalachian "whistledick" theme while making the punchline land a little harder.

I woke up this morning wondering about a word I first heard growing up back in the West Virginia hills: whistledick.

Curiosity got the better of me, so I looked it up. Depending on where you ask, a whistledick is someone who's simple-minded, not especially bright, or easily led around by the nose.

That got me thinking about local politics.

If you're looking for whistledicks, the local Tea Party seems to have an abundant supply. Around here, our own Three Stooges could qualify for honorary memberships.

According to the Payson Roundup, the Three Stooges have raised about 19 times more campaign money than the ordinary citizens running for town council. That's an interesting number.

It raises a fair question: Where did all that money come from?

The whistledick crowd is always eager to tell us that George Soros is secretly financing every protest, every rally, and every political opponent they don't like. They see Soros behind every bush.

Fine. If that's the standard, then it's fair to ask who's financing the local operation.

Because campaign money doesn't magically appear.

So here's my question: Who is paying for stupidity by the pound?

If your goal is sharper political satire, I can also make it funnier with more Appalachian expressions while keeping it focused on the campaign finance theme rather than the insult itself.

The Stooges , Otto, Bell and Ferris

Ferris Storms Out

Last night's Payson Town Council meeting ended with an unexpected bit of political theater.

Councilman Jim Ferris didn't just lose the vote—he lost his temper. After seeing it become clear that the council was rejecting another effort aimed at the library, Ferris stormed out of the meeting and slammed the door behind him. It was a dramatic ending to a campaign that has repeatedly failed to gain support.

The strategy has become familiar. First came claims that the library contained "pornography." That accusation went nowhere because the facts didn't support it. Rather than moving on, Ferris and his allies shifted to a new controversy, raising fears about drag queen story hours and suggesting the library should be punished financially because of positions taken by national library organizations.

The problem is that this argument attempts to solve an issue that doesn't exist in Payson. It's a political formula seen often in recent years: create a controversy, amplify public outrage, and then present yourself as the person who will fix it. When the controversy falls apart, simply move on to the next one.

Fortunately, a majority of the Town Council refused to take the bait. They voted against the proposal, choosing to focus on the actual operation of Payson's library rather than national political talking points.

Ferris frequently presents himself as a man guided by Christian values. Every voter is free to decide whether his conduct at the meeting reflected those values. Storming out of a public meeting after failing to persuade your colleagues does not strike many people as an example of patience, humility, or respectful leadership.

In the end, the loudest statement of the evening wasn't made from the council dais. It was the sound of the council chamber door slamming shut behind a frustrated councilman.

Doug

Trump's Greatest Grift?

Donald Trump may be the greatest political grifter of our time.

Reading the New York Times this morning, columnist Thomas Friedman highlighted just how profitable Trump's cryptocurrency ventures have been—not for the people who bought into them, but for Trump himself.

As Friedman noted:

"Nearly 1 million people who bought President Trump's memecoin have lost money through the end of June... Their losses total $3.81 billion... Trump signed a financial disclosure revealing that the same crypto bet dealt him a $636 million payout. In all, his business ventures brought him at least $2.2 billion in 2025."

Think about that. According to those figures, nearly a million supporters collectively lost billions while Trump personally walked away with hundreds of millions.

That's quite a business model.

Then Doug stopped by the Kadizzle house yesterday.

Doug has been one of those folks who swallowed nearly every conspiracy theory and every Trump talking point, hook, line, and sinker. But yesterday something had changed.

Even Doug finally said, "Enough is enough."

Then came the real surprise.

Doug told Kadizzle he had realized that the Three Stooges running for town council are nothing more than Trump-style followers trying to imitate the same brand of politics right here in our own town.

Kadizzle nearly fell out of his chair.

If the clouds can part for Doug, maybe there's still hope for the rest of America.

If you're aiming for maximum political punch, I can also rewrite it in your sharper "Kadizzle" satirical style, with more humor and bite.

The Tea Party Brain

The Tea Party mindset seems to thrive on absurdities. A recent letter to the Payson Roundup confidently asserted that George Soros is paying protesters in Payson. As usual, this appears to be another flight of right-wing fantasy.

Let's think this through. Where exactly do people get paid? Has anyone ever cashed a George Soros check at a local bank? Is there a secret payroll office hidden behind the donut shop? Are protesters paid in cash, direct deposit, or perhaps prepaid debit cards handed out at rallies?

The questions are endless because the claim itself makes no sense. Yet these stories continue to circulate because they appeal to a certain strain of political paranoia. Every protest must be a conspiracy. Every disagreement must be orchestrated. Every citizen expressing an opinion must secretly be on someone's payroll.

The irony is especially rich because the very name "Tea Party" came from a protest movement. Apparently, protesting was patriotic when they were doing it, but now anyone protesting the current administration must be a paid operative.

One wonders how this supposed Soros payment system works. Is there an application process? Background checks? Performance reviews? Does someone monitor sign-waving technique and slogan creativity before authorizing payment?

Perhaps enterprising Tea Party members should sign up themselves. If the rumors are true, they could collect the money and then donate it directly to a Trump campaign committee. It sounds like a foolproof plan—assuming, of course, that the imaginary checks arrive from the imaginary payroll department that exists only in the fever swamps of political conspiracy theories.

The truth is much simpler. Most protesters show up for the same reason people have always shown up to protests: they care about an issue. Agree with them or disagree with them, but pretending they are all paid actors is not an argument. It's just a convenient way to avoid listening to what they have to say.

 Payson’s Central Park — Or Another RV Park?

Imagine if New York City decided to turn Central Park into an RV park. Most people would think that was a terrible idea. Yet that is essentially what Mayor Steve Otto and his allies are proposing for some of the most valuable publicly owned land in Payson.

The Town of Payson currently owns approximately 21 acres adjacent to the police department. As Payson grows, that land could become one of the community's most important assets. Ramsey Park is already constrained by limited space. In the future, Payson may need room for a recreation center, a swimming pool, expanded public safety facilities, a fire station, or other municipal services. Having multiple public facilities located together can reduce construction and operating costs while creating a true civic center for the community.

Instead, Mayor Otto appears eager to pursue a deal that would convert this strategic public property into an RV park. Why? Payson already owns other land that could potentially be used for that purpose. Once this centrally located property is gone, the opportunity to create a long-term civic campus for future generations will be lost forever.

Mayor Otto recently claimed on KMOG radio that the town paid too much for the property. Yet the developer's own presentation to the Town Council suggested that RV park land in nearby Star Valley is worth approximately $450,000 per acre. Using that figure, Payson's 21-acre parcel would have a value approaching $10 million.

If those numbers are accurate, then the town has not lost money on the purchase—it has gained substantial value. The property may already be worth millions more than the town paid for it.

The real question is simple: Should Payson preserve one of the few large parcels of centrally located public land for future community needs, or should it give up that opportunity for an RV park that could be built elsewhere?

Some opportunities come along only once. This land may be one of them.

Republicans never lose

 Here's a satirical blog post you can use or adapt:

Election Fraud: The Republican Groundhog Day

There was a time when losing an election meant you shook hands, congratulated the winner, and started planning for the next campaign. Those days apparently ended when Republicans discovered a revolutionary new political theory:

Any election Republicans win is proof democracy works. Any election Democrats win is proof democracy has been stolen.

It is a remarkable system. No evidence required. No facts necessary. No consistency expected.

When Republicans win a governor's race, the voting machines are accurate, the ballots are secure, and the Founding Fathers smile down from heaven.

When Democrats win a governor's race, suddenly the voting machines are controlled by Venezuelan communists, dead people are voting, illegal immigrants are voting, Martians are voting, and somewhere a secret warehouse is manufacturing ballots by the truckload.

The routine has become so predictable that it deserves its own television series.

Episode One: Republicans lose.

Episode Two: Republicans declare fraud.

Episode Three: Courts ask for evidence.

Episode Four: Republicans produce a Facebook meme and a guy named Earl who heard something from his cousin.

Season Finale: Every court throws the case out.

Then the entire process repeats itself in the next election.

What makes this performance particularly entertaining is that many of the elections Republicans claim are fraudulent are being conducted by Republican officials.

Imagine a football team losing a game and then claiming the referees, scoreboard operators, stadium management, and league commissioner all conspired against them—only to discover every one of those people worked for their own team.

That is essentially where we are.

The Republican approach to elections has become the political equivalent of a child flipping over a Monopoly board because somebody else landed on Boardwalk.

"Did you win?"

"No."

"Then the game was rigged."

"But you made the rules."

"Exactly. That's how deep the conspiracy goes."

The real danger is not the comedy. The danger is that millions of Americans are being taught that democracy only counts when their side wins.

That is not patriotism.

That is not conservatism.

That is not faith in democracy.

It is simply a refusal to accept reality.

America's election system is run by thousands of local officials from both parties. They make mistakes, because they are human. But after dozens of audits, recounts, investigations, and court cases, the mythical nationwide fraud conspiracy remains exactly where it has always been:

Somewhere between Bigfoot and Elvis Presley.

The irony is delicious.

The same people who spent decades telling children that life is not fair, that sometimes you lose, and that character is measured by how you respond to defeat, are now the first to collapse onto the floor screaming election fraud every time voters reject their candidates.

At some point Republicans may rediscover an old American tradition:

If you lose an election, you don't overthrow confidence in democracy.

You convince more people to vote for you next time.

Until then, America can look forward to the next election cycle, when Republicans will once again assure us that every race they win is perfectly legitimate, while every race they lose is evidence of the largest conspiracy in human history.

Groundhog Day has nothing on this act.

Were busted flat

Here's a sharper version for a National Association audience that keeps the criticism focused on policy and economics rather than personal attacks:

Is Payson Really Broke?

According to Mayor Steve Otto and his allies on the Town Council, Payson is constantly short of money. Residents are told the town cannot afford major improvements. A community swimming pool remains out of reach. Roads continue to deteriorate. Public projects are delayed or abandoned because, we are told, the town simply lacks the resources.

Yet there is an interesting contradiction.

A quick look at Zillow shows more than twenty homes currently listed in Payson for over $2 million. Luxury properties are becoming an increasingly visible part of the community. Wealth is clearly present in Payson, even while town leaders insist the community is struggling financially.

That raises an obvious question: If there is substantial wealth in town, why does local government seem perpetually unable to fund basic community needs?

The issue may not be whether Payson lacks money. The issue may be who is paying taxes, who is receiving tax advantages, and whether the community's tax structure is keeping pace with changing property values.

Across America, working families often hear that there is no money for parks, pools, libraries, road repairs, or public services. At the same time, wealth continues to concentrate at the top. The result is a growing disconnect between what communities need and what local governments claim they can afford.

Payson may be a small town, but it reflects a larger national question: Are public services underfunded because communities are poor, or because the tax burden is not being shared fairly?

Before citizens accept the claim that "Payson is broke," they deserve a transparent discussion about where the money is, who is contributing, and whether everyone is paying their fair share.

That conversation might reveal that the problem is not a lack of wealth. The problem may be how that wealth is distributed and taxed.

The Art of lying Tea Party style

The Politics of Half-Truths

One of Donald Trump's most enduring political innovations was not a policy proposal or a campaign strategy. It was the normalization of a simple idea: if facts become inconvenient, declare them "fake news" and move on.

No modern president has been more closely associated with repeated false or misleading statements than Trump. Yet the remarkable part is not the behavior itself—it is how quickly it became a model for political movements across the country. When leaders demonstrate that facts are optional, followers often learn the same lesson.

The pattern is familiar. A claim is made. Evidence that contradicts the claim is ignored. Critics are dismissed as biased. If the facts become overwhelming, the conversation simply moves on to the next outrage.

Locally, social media has become the preferred playground for this style of politics. Facebook posts, rumors, and carefully edited narratives can spread quickly, especially when there is little risk of immediate challenge. Online accusations are easy. Public accountability is much harder.

An interesting feature of modern misinformation is that it rarely depends on telling the entire story. In fact, the most effective distortions often begin with a few true facts before quietly omitting the details that change the conclusion. The public hears the accusation but never hears the correction. They hear the charge but not the dismissal. They hear the rumor but not the evidence.

This tactic is particularly useful when legal proceedings are involved. An accusation may be repeated endlessly, while the eventual outcome receives little attention. If a court later rejects the claim, the correction rarely travels as far as the original story. The result is that many people continue to believe a narrative that has already been disproven.

Democracy depends on citizens who are willing to examine facts, listen to opposing viewpoints, and revise their opinions when evidence demands it. Propaganda depends on the opposite. It asks people to choose loyalty over truth and emotion over evidence.

The challenge facing our communities today is not simply political disagreement. Healthy democracies have always survived disagreement. The greater danger is the growing belief that facts themselves no longer matter.

When truth becomes optional, accountability disappears. And when accountability disappears, democracy becomes little more than a contest between competing myths.

The solution is not censorship, intimidation, or shouting louder than the other side. The solution is a renewed commitment to evidence, transparency, and honest debate. Facts may not always be popular, but they remain the foundation upon which every free society must stand.

If you don't vote you will live with the old goat, Steve Otto Mayor

Will Young People Turn the Tide in Payson?

Payson faces a choice.

Not a choice about potholes, stop signs, or which color to paint the park benches. A much bigger choice. A choice between looking backward and looking forward.

For years, the town's political energy has been dominated by a generation that prides itself on living on a shoestring budget. In theory, thrift is a virtue. In practice, Payson often seems trapped in a permanent yard sale, where every investment in the future is treated like a reckless extravagance.

Need better parks? Too expensive.

Need improved services? Too expensive.

Need economic development? Too expensive.

Need something that might attract young families and businesses? You guessed it—too expensive.

The local Tea Party has become the social club for many of these residents. It serves as a country club without the golf course. Members gather to discuss the dangers of progress, the horrors of spending money on the future, and the latest political talking points imported from somewhere far beyond the Mogollon Rim.

Their spiritual capital isn't Phoenix, Washington, or even Payson.

It's Mar-a-Lago.

The irony is impossible to miss. Many of the people most affected by cuts to government programs, rising healthcare costs, and economic uncertainty are often the first to cheer for the politicians promoting those policies. It's a political version of cheering for the team that's kicking dirt in your face.

Meanwhile, Payson grows older.

Young people leave.

Businesses struggle to attract workers.

Housing becomes harder to afford.

The town risks becoming a community that slowly fades rather than one that grows.

The question is whether the younger generation will accept that future.

Young voters have more power than they often realize. They can decide whether Payson becomes a retirement museum dedicated to preserving the politics of yesterday, or a community willing to invest in tomorrow.

Every election offers that choice.

One path says, "Keep everything exactly as it is."

The other says, "Let's build something better."

The older generation has had decades to shape Payson. They have earned the right to be heard. But they do not own the future.

The future belongs to the people who will live in it.

The young families raising children here.

The workers trying to build careers.

The entrepreneurs trying to start businesses.

The students deciding whether Payson is a place worth staying.

They can vote for more of the same, or they can vote for change. They can choose a town that slowly wilts on the vine, or one that plants seeds for the next generation.

The goats have had their turn.

The future is waiting.

The only question is whether the young people of Payson will claim it.

Tea Party Tight Security

The Great Tea Party Security Crisis

Tea Party meetings are always a source of entertainment. If you have never attended one, imagine a gathering where the average age qualifies for a Medicare discount and the most dangerous weapon in the room is a runaway walker.

Fear, however, is the fuel that keeps the Tea Party machine running.

Take the recent Town Council candidate forum. To hear the organizers tell it, civilization itself hung in the balance. Four Sheriff's deputies were stationed at the event, ready to respond to what can only be described as the looming threat of a senior-citizen insurrection.

Not content with law enforcement protection, the Tea Party also deployed its own security force. Bright orange-vested volunteers stood guard, scanning the crowd for dangerous radicals armed with orthopedic shoes and discount hearing aids.

One could almost picture the nightmare scenario they were preparing for: a fierce battle breaking out between Democrats and Tea Party faithful, fought with canes, walkers, and coupons clipped from last Sunday's newspaper.

"Drop that walker, Earl!"

"Never! This scooter has two fresh batteries!"

The whole spectacle raises an interesting question. Who exactly are they afraid of?

The audience consisted largely of retirees. The biggest medical emergency was probably more likely to involve someone missing a blood pressure pill than launching a revolution.

Yet fear is the Tea Party's favorite campaign strategy. If they aren't warning people about invading caravans, library books, drag queens, socialists, immigrants, or mysterious forces lurking behind every tree, they have to invent a new threat. Apparently this month the danger was an audience of local seniors attending a candidate forum.

One thing that never fails to stand out is who tends to be carrying firearms. It isn't the Democrats. The self-proclaimed defenders of freedom arrive armed and prepared to defend themselves against the terrifying possibility of hearing an opinion that differs from Donald Trump's.

The unofficial motto seems to be: "I support free speech—as long as it's my speech."

My favorite moment came when Denise Bacon reportedly instructed law enforcement to keep a close eye on things. Looking around the room, I couldn't help but wonder what exactly they were watching for. A walker-based coup? A cane-wielding rebellion? A coordinated attack by the bingo crowd?

The reality is that the greatest threat at these meetings is not violence. It is the possibility that someone might ask an unscripted question, challenge a preferred narrative, or introduce a fact that doesn't fit the approved talking points.

Now that is something that truly frightens the Tea Party.

Give the Tea Party credit

The Great Payson Candidate Protection Program

The Tea Party deserves credit for one thing: they understand that controlling the message is half the battle.

Last night they hosted what was advertised as a public candidate forum at Ponderosa Bible Church. Calling it a "public forum" is a little like calling a carnival game a scientific experiment. Everyone knows how it's supposed to turn out before it begins.

The first thing attendees saw was a large display promoting the Tea Party favorites. If you didn't know better, you might have thought you had wandered into campaign headquarters rather than a community event. The other candidates seemed to receive roughly the same amount of attention as a potted plant in the corner.

Then there was security.

The Tea Party apparently anticipated a dangerous uprising by the radical forces of senior citizens armed with canes, walkers, and bifocals. Sheriff's deputies were present. Volunteers in bright orange vests patrolled the room. Looking around at the crowd, the greatest immediate threat appeared to be someone losing control of a mobility scooter.

The real security, however, was built into the format.

Questions had to be submitted in advance and screened before being asked. This ensured that no candidate would be exposed to anything hazardous, such as an unexpected question.

The result was a parade of safe, predictable inquiries that produced safe, predictable answers. Every candidate loved the town. Every candidate supported fiscal responsibility. Every candidate favored listening to citizens. Had someone asked whether puppies are good, I suspect there would have been unanimous agreement.

The most entertaining performance came when candidates spoke about accountability and listening to voters. Hearing politicians praise open communication while standing inside a tightly controlled question-filtering operation requires a certain appreciation for irony.

I had hoped to distribute a simple handout asking candidates to answer questions directly from the audience. Not hostile questions. Not trick questions. Just questions from actual voters.

That idea was apparently considered too dangerous.

I was informed that distributing such a handout would not be permitted. The possibility that citizens might ask unscripted questions was treated with roughly the same level of concern usually reserved for an electrical fire.

The message was unmistakable: voters could listen, voters could clap, voters could go home. What voters could not do was participate.

Afterward, I again attempted to ask about previous efforts to defund the library over claims of "pornography." Once again, meaningful discussion proved surprisingly difficult to obtain. It is remarkable how often people who claim to welcome debate suddenly discover pressing appointments when specific questions arise.

The evening provided little new information about the candidates. We learned that everyone loves Payson. We learned that nobody wants bankruptcy. We learned that puppies remain popular.

What we did not learn is how these candidates perform when confronted with a challenging question from an informed citizen.

That is the purpose of a real forum.

Democracy is messy. Democracy is unscripted. Democracy involves citizens asking questions that make politicians uncomfortable.

What occurred last night was not democracy at its finest.

It was candidate bubble wrap.

And judging by the precautions taken, the organizers were terrified that an unscripted question might puncture it.

Lets play the pornography game

 Jim Ferris and the Tea Party crowd have declared themselves the holy guardians of morality in Payson. According to Ferris, the greatest threat facing civilization is apparently a library book. Forget corruption, lies, greed, or a  president facing lawsuits and criminal convictions — the real danger is a librarian shelving a book some MAGA dinger hasn’t actually read.

Ferris rides into town council meetings like a self-appointed sheriff of decency, waving around accusations about “pornography” in the library. He wants to decide what your children can read, what adults can check out, and what ideas are acceptable in a free society. But strangely enough, Ferris had no problem voting for Donald Trump — a man caught on tape bragging, “Grab ’em by the pussy.” Apparently that kind of vulgarity doesn’t offend the Tea Party moral police.

That is the heart of modern MAGA hypocrisy.

A novel in a library? Outrage.

A president who lies every day, mocks disabled people, cheats on his wives, insults veterans, and talks like a drunken frat boy? Silence.

The Tea Party crowd acts like they are defending “family values,” but their values disappear the second Trump opens his mouth. They clutch their pearls over books while excusing behavior from Trump that they would condemn in anyone else. If a Democratic president had spoken the way Trump speaks, the Tea Party would have marched through the streets carrying crosses and pitchforks.

Ferris and his allies want government control over books because outrage is easier than solving real problems. They cannot explain rising housing costs, threats to Social Security, healthcare costs, or why working people keep getting squeezed, so they create culture-war theater. The library becomes the enemy because it distracts the Hoopleheads from asking harder questions.

Meanwhile, Trump lies with every breath, and the MAGA faithful applaud like trained seals.

The hypocrisy gets even richer when these same people scream about “freedom” and “government overreach.” They don’t want government telling them what kind of truck to drive or whether they should wear a mask, but they are perfectly happy using government power to decide what books your family can read. Freedom for them means freedom to control everybody else.

That is why the Tea Party movement has become less about principles and more about performance art. Outrage is the product. Anger is the fuel. Facts are optional.

Ferris can posture as the defender of children all he wants, but children learn more from the example adults set than from books sitting quietly on a library shelf. And what example does MAGA set? That lying is acceptable if your tribe benefits. That vulgarity is acceptable if your side wins. That morality only applies to political opponents.

The truth is this was never about protecting children. It was about political theater for the MAGA crowd — red meat for the culture-war addicts who need a new outrage every week.

And the saddest part? While they are busy hunting for imaginary pornography in the library, the real problems facing Payson continue untouched.

Staying in the cult.

 As Trump’s behavior grows more erratic by the day, even some of the faithful Hoopleheads seem uneasy. The cult used to wear the uniform proudly — red hats in every grocery store aisle, giant flags flapping from lifted pickups, bumper stickers screaming loyalty to the King. Lately? Not so much. The hats are disappearing. The noise is quieter. Maybe the spell is wearing off.

The gas pump has always been the true church of the dingers. They can overlook the lies, the corruption, the grifting, the endless whining, and even an attack on the Capitol. But hit a Hooplehead in the wallet while he’s filling up his F-250 and suddenly patriotism gets complicated. Nothing shakes blind devotion like paying another twenty bucks at the pump.

Even some of the smarter cult members are beginning to ask uncomfortable questions. Why is Trump glorifying and financially rewarding people who smashed their way into the Capitol? Why does every “patriot” scheme somehow end with money flowing into Trump’s pocket? Why does the man who promised to “drain the swamp” surround himself with con artists, conspiracy merchants, and political carnival barkers?

The cult was never built on ideas. It was built on grievance, anger, and the comforting fantasy that every problem in America is somebody else’s fault. College education won’t usually get you into the cult because higher education tends to encourage skepticism, curiosity, and the dangerous habit of asking for evidence. The MAGA movement survives on emotion, not logic.

But reality has a way of leaking through even the thickest skulls. When groceries cost more, when retirement accounts wobble, when chaos becomes exhausting, even the Hoopleheads start wondering if the King has no clothes. Some will never admit they were conned. Pride is too powerful. But you can see the cracks forming.

The loudest people at the Tea Party meetings used to act like Trump was a cross between John Wayne and Jesus Christ. Now some of them just look tired. They still repeat the slogans, but without the same sparkle in their eyes. The carnival act is getting old. Rage can only carry a movement so far before people start asking what exactly they got in return.

Maybe the cult isn’t dead yet. But maybe the melting has begun.

Jim Ferris will protect us from Porn

If you want to become a hero at a Tea Party meeting, the formula is simple: tell an emotional story that resonates with the easily manipulated. Jim Ferris understood that perfectly when he climbed aboard his “library pornography” hobby horse during his campaign for the Payson Town Council.

The Hoopleheads love being told that books are dangerous, corrupting, and somehow poisoning society. Ferris knew that if he cast himself as the brave defender of children against imaginary pornography at the library, he would instantly become a MAGA folk hero.

What followed was one of the most embarrassing Town Council meetings Payson has ever seen. Ferris publicly accused the Payson Library of harboring child pornography and pushed the accusation so aggressively that a library employee was brought to tears. It was a disgraceful performance built on fear, exaggeration, and political theater.

Then came the vote on library funding. Ferris voted against supporting the library, joined by fellow MAGA dingers Charlie Bell and Mayor Steve Otto. Fortunately, four responsible council members rejected the stunt and voted to preserve funding.

The Three Stooges coalition is still trying to gain control of the council. If they ever succeed, Payson may discover that attacks on libraries and ideas rarely stop with speeches and accusations. History has shown where that road can lead.

Eli Crane the coward

 

One of the fundamental principles of democracy is simple: elected officials should be willing to speak with all of the people they represent — not just those who already agree with them.

That is why it is troubling that Congressman Eli Crane refuses to hold a true public town hall meeting in Payson. Instead, he appears before Tea Party groups in meetings that are often closed to the general public, where he knows he will not be seriously challenged about his support for Donald Trump and Trump’s policies.

In those carefully controlled settings, it is easy to deliver rehearsed partisan talking points without facing difficult questions or meaningful scrutiny. But real representation requires more than speaking to supporters behind closed doors. It requires the courage to face constituents who may disagree and to answer legitimate concerns honestly and directly.

If Congressman Crane held an open town hall, many constituents would ask him about the consequences of Trump’s policies, the attacks on democratic institutions, and the growing division in our country. Apparently, that is a conversation he prefers to avoid.

Public office comes with a responsibility to face the public — all of the public — not just the political base that offers applause behind closed doors.

Imaginary pornography with Jim Ferris

 

Juicing up the Tea Party is easy. Jim Ferris is the worst councilman in the town of Payson. Add to Ferris his Tea Party buddies Steve Otto, and Charlie Bell and you have the Three Stooges. Early into his first appearance at town council Ferris tried to defund the library claiming it was promoting pornography to children. Ferris did not even read the book he was protesting. However, Ferris knew how to sing to the Tea Party. The Fox News gang never questions anything. 

Little does Ferris know about the Bible he follows. The Bible is full of sex and violence, but Ferris somehow missed it. 

The Payson Roundup featured a good letter to the editor about the Ferris insanity, read it. Ferris is one of the Three Stooges that are taking Payson to the stone age. Speak up and help get new people elected to replace these luddites. 

Meet the Tea Party at the grocery store.

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The Pharmacy Bench: A Lesson in Truth, Power, and the Cost of Silence

It started with a simple moment.

While my wife finished shopping, I sat down on a bench near the pharmacy at Safeway to rest. Before long, a woman with a grocery cart struck up a friendly conversation. We exchanged a few pleasantries, and—mistakenly—I assumed we saw the world the same way.

We didn’t.

She was a committed Tea Party supporter, and before long our conversation turned to politics—specifically, the presidency and the staggering accumulation of wealth surrounding it.

When I mentioned that the current administration has seen personal enrichment exceeding $4 billion since 2025, she didn’t hesitate.

“Fake news,” she said.

That response told me everything I needed to know.

---

A Judge’s Perspective: Evidence Still Matters

I spent 25 years on the bench. In a courtroom, “fake news” isn’t a defense. Evidence is. Facts are. Documentation is.

So instead of arguing politics, I reframed the discussion the only way I know how: as a case file—a “Docket of Enrichment.”

If we claim to believe in limited government and constitutional principles, then we should examine the record not as partisan rhetoric, but as entries in a ledger of public trust:

• World Liberty Financial (Crypto): $1.1 billion (Forbes)
  Personal profit tied to federal policy shifts

• Foreign Gift (Qatar Luxury Jet): $400 million (House Judiciary records)
  A direct conflict with the Foreign Emoluments Clause

• General Business Revenue: $3.0 billion (The Fulcrum / CREW)
  Unprecedented private gain while in public office

• G20 Summit at Doral (Miami): Millions (CBS News)
  Taxpayer funds directed to a personal resort

• IRS Lawsuit Claim: $10 billion (U.S. District Court)
  Suing the government for personal financial gain

Then I asked her a simple question:

If a local mayor accepted a $400 million jet from a foreign government and then awarded that same government a city contract, would you call it good business—or a bribe?

---

When Ideals Meet Reality

The Tea Party was founded on the belief that government should not serve as a “piggy bank” for the powerful.

Yet here we are—watching the machinery of government, diplomacy, and even federal agencies used to build a private fortune measured in billions.

At some point, this stops being about politics.

It becomes arithmetic.

In my years on the bench, I learned something simple: you can ignore evidence for a while, but eventually the bill comes due. For American taxpayers, that bill now stands at roughly $4.5 billion—and rising.

---

When Truth Becomes Optional

But the encounter didn’t end there.

There is a deeper issue—one that goes beyond national politics and reaches into our own community.

In some circles, truth has become whatever people want it to be.

Consider this: Donald Trump has made over 30,000 documented false statements. On multiple occasions, he has even admitted to lying. Yet for many, facts simply don’t matter.

I’ve seen that same pattern play out locally.

Years ago, Gary Morris, then head of the local Republican Party, circulated a claim that I had been arrested twice for assault in North Dakota.

It was false.

The truth? The incident involved me defending a young mother in Mandan, North Dakota. Morris left out every relevant detail and replaced them with fabrications. He repeated these claims in restraining order filings, adding more falsehoods—including that I carried a handgun. I did not.

Even after being told the claims were baseless, he continued.

Anyone can verify the records. Morris had confused me with a different individual—another Michael D. Quinn—from Stanton, North Dakota. I lived in Hazen.

He even claimed in court that the The Washington Post was his source. The actual article said the exact opposite.

Eventually, his pattern caught up with him. In front of an unbiased judge from Scottsdale, the truth came out. Morris was exposed as a serial fabricator—and he resigned the following week.

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The Closed Door Problem

Despite all of this, I’ve repeatedly offered to present the facts publicly—to stand in front of the Tea Party and explain exactly how these lies were created.

The answer?

No.

When I asked the woman at Safeway a simple question—“What exactly has Mike Quinn done that would justify banning him from attending?”—there was no answer.

The same pattern exists with KMOG. When confronted with facts, the line goes dead. The fallback response is always the same:

“He’s disruptive.”

That’s not a description. It’s a code word.

It means: he challenges us with facts we don’t want to hear.

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Two Rooms, Two Standards

Here’s the contrast that matters:

At Democratic meetings, anyone can attend. Anyone can speak.

That is not how the Tea Party operates locally.

If you challenge misinformation or confront conspiracy theories, you’re stopped at the door.

I’ve personally attempted to engage with individuals like Steve Otto and Michael Heather. Each time, the response was the same: refusal to engage, followed by claims that my attempt to speak constituted “assault.”

Only one person—Inga—was willing to listen. We disagreed on many things, but she allowed a conversation. That alone earns respect.

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The Real Question

So here’s the question no one seems willing to answer:

Why not let me speak?

Why not allow me to stand on that stage and explain, point by point, how these claims were fabricated?

The answer is simple.

Because the truth would expose the lies—and the people who spread them.

And that is something they cannot afford.

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Some good people

Some good people have stepped up to turn Payson around. The younger people running for office in Payson have a view of the future anyone can embrace. Payson needs young vibrant people unafraid of the future. The old guard caters to the old ideas, and they fear the future. Progress does not come from standing still and clinging to the past. Why let those with a short future control the young with much more at stake. It is time to vote the old guard out, and bring in fresh ideas with fresh people. 

Why can't the Hooples see Trump is nuts

There is an obvious question many people avoid asking: how can a person display clear signs of instability in public, day after day, and still keep a loyal following? Imagine an anonymous man who rants constantly, cannot accept criticism, invents enemies, boasts endlessly, and shifts from grievance to praise to anger in the span of minutes. If you met such a man in ordinary life, most people would quietly conclude something was wrong.

Yet place that same man on a stage, give him power, wrap him in slogans, and suddenly behavior that would alarm people in private becomes “strength” in public. Cruelty becomes “telling it like it is.” Paranoia becomes “fighting the system.” Confusion becomes “genius.” Rage becomes “authenticity.”

Why do followers fail to see what seems obvious to others? Often because they are not really supporting the man himself. They are supporting what he represents to them. He becomes a vessel for resentment, fear, identity, and tribal belonging. Once that happens, evidence no longer matters. Every outburst is excused. Every contradiction is ignored. Every warning is called an attack.

There is also comfort in the crowd. If millions cheer, people assume millions cannot be wrong. But history shows crowds can be very wrong, especially when emotion replaces judgment.

The saddest part is that supporters may not be blind at all. Some likely see the instability clearly. They simply prefer it because it serves their anger. They mistake destruction for leadership.

A healthy society requires citizens willing to judge leaders by character, temperament, honesty, and fitness. When people excuse obvious dysfunction because the dysfunctional man flatters their grievances, they are not just fooling themselves. They are putting everyone at risk.

Sometimes the real mystery is not the troubled man on the stage. It is why so many people in the audience keep applauding.

Trump's dog in Payson

Jim Ferris wants to pose as a friend of young people, but his record tells a different story. Ferris, a member of the Payson Town Council, is a relic of old reactionary politics—one of the local trio carrying the faded banner of the Tea Party into town hall. When the library needed support, Ferris was there trying to slash funding, tossing around the tired right-wing claim that libraries somehow “promote pornography.” It was the same stale culture-war nonsense used whenever extremists want to attack education, books, and public spaces that help ordinary families.

Then came the opening of the new mountain bike course, built through the hard work of community members who actually care enough to create something positive for Payson’s young people. Volunteers came together, invested time and energy, and turned city land into something healthy, active, and exciting for the next generation. And there, front and center, was Ferris—trying to bask in the glow of a project built by people with the civic spirit he so often opposes.

If that hypocrisy was not enough, Laurie Miller was also there, doing political theater for Eli Crane. Miller handed out a certificate from Crane congratulating those who built the course. Crane, meanwhile, voted against resources that could have brought millions back to help communities in his own district. It is easy to hand out certificates after others do the work. It is harder to fight for real funding, infrastructure, and opportunity.

This is the modern political grift: oppose government when it helps people, then show up for the ribbon cutting when citizens succeed despite you. Attack libraries, starve services, block investment, then smile for the cameras when decent people build something worthwhile.

Payson deserves leaders who support youth year-round, not just on photo-op day. The people who volunteer, build trails, support schools, and defend libraries are the ones moving the town forward. The Tea Party leftovers and MAGA opportunists are simply trying to ride their coattails. Midterm elections cannot come soon enough.