That's the question coming out of the CNBC debate in Michigan, thanks to the Texas governor's epic stumble
Most campaign debates leave the viewer with an array of interesting moments to chew over, analyze and rehash. But after Wednesday's debate, there was just one.
Rick Perry seemed to be on a roll with a smooth, fluent answer about job creation in Texas when, all of a sudden, he hit a snag. He had turned to his fellow Texan, Rep. Ron Paul, to explain that, like Paul, he wanted to slash whole agencies from the federal government. There were three, he said: "Commerce, Education and the, um, uh, what's the third one there, let's see," he said, pointing a finger at his head like a pistol.
Paul suggested it should actually be five agencies, the number axed from the bureaucracy under Paul's economic plan. The elderly congressman waved his right hand with all five fingers outstretched, clawlike.
"EPA?" suggested the helpful moderator, John Harwood.
"EPA! There you go!" Perry said, laughing. But it wasn't over.
"Seriously, is EPA the one you were talking about?" Harwood pressed.
"No sir, no sir," Perry said, digging himself dramatically deeper into his memory hole. "We were talking about the, uh, agencies of government. EPA needs to be rebuilt. There's no doubt about that."
"But you can't name the third one?" said Harwood.
"The third agency of government I would do away with -- the Education, the, uh, Commerce and, let's see. I can't. The third one, I can't. Sorry. Oops."
A collective gasp went up from the ranks of the political world. Did that just happen? Did the three-term governor of Texas just draw a complete, unrecoverable blank on a simple three-item list -- one he's been repeating on the stump for weeks?
The slip was nothing short of a disaster for Perry, who badly needed a solid debate performance -- for once -- if he was ever to put his campaign back on course in the diminishing time that remains before primary voting begins in January.
To be sure, we've all been there -- had a word on the tip of our brain that just refused to dislodge, particularly at a crucial moment. That was the spin from Perry's camp post-debate, when the candidate himself toured the media spin room to amiably acknowledge he had "stepped in it."
But for Perry, this was more than just a meaningless gaffe. It seemed to sum up his entire candidacy: a candidate maddeningly unable to consistently perform at the level of basic competence. Ever since he entered the race, Perry has made unforced error after unforced error, from threatening the Federal Reserve chairman with physical harm to accusing conservatives of heartlessness to seeming possessed by a number of alien personalities during a speech in New Hampshire. And now this.
Mitt Romney's camp was, naturally, gleeful -- Romney turned in his usual polished performance, waxing ecstatic about the wonders of capitalism and the joys of profit. Also clearly cheered was Herman Cain, who emerged unscathed from a debate that was supposed to put him in the hot seat over his ongoing sexual harassment scandal. (Instead, the debate audience loudly booed the moderators for raising the issue early on, Romney declined to touch it, and the conversation swiftly moved on to economic issues.) Newt Gingrich did another installment of his obnoxious tweak-the-moderators act, but this time a moderator, Maria Bartiromo, refused to be intimidated and sassed him right back. Michele Bachmann, Ron Paul, Rick Santorum and Jon Huntsman were there too. Up until the "Oops" moment, everybody was doing pretty well and the debate was shaping up to be a snoozer.
But there's only one moment anyone will be talking about from this debate, and it was the moment Rick Perry's brain seemed to temporarily leave his body.
Give this much to Rick Perry: He sure managed to refocus the campaign spotlight on his candidacy. But "Can he survive?" is not the question you want people asking about your presidential campaign. Just ask Herman Cain.
He lives near San Francisco, makes more than $50,000 per year, and is voting for the billionaire to fight against political correctness.
For several days, I’ve been corresponding with a 22-year-old Donald Trump supporter. He is white, has a bachelor’s degree, and earns $50,000 to $60,000 per year.
He lives near San Francisco.
“I recently became engaged to my Asian fiancée who is making roughly 3 times what I make, and I am completely supportive of her and proud she is doing so well,” he wrote. “We’ve both benefitted a lot from globalization. We are young, urban, and have a happy future planned. We seem molded to be perfect young Hillary supporters,” he observed, “but we're not. In 2016, we're both going for Trump.”
At first, we discussed Bill Clinton.
Last week, I wrote an article asking why Trump supporters aren’t bothered that their candidate called Clinton a shameful abuser of women who may well be a rapist. After all, Trump used to insist that Clinton was a victim of unfair treatment during his sex scandals. Either Trump spent years defending a man that he believed to be a sexual predator, even welcoming him as a guest at his wedding, or Trump is now cynically exploiting a rape allegation that he believes to be false.
In the 1990s, A.J. Benza learned first hand how the real-estate developer got his name––and his net worth––in all the New York City papers.
Earlier this month, I heard A.J. Benza, the host of the celebrity-scandal show “Case Closed with A.J. Benza,” tell the podcast host Adam Carolla about his younger days as a gossip reporter in New York City. He hung out with celebrities until the wee hours of the morning, reported out sensational rumors, and constantly traded favors in order to get juicy tidbits for columns at Newsday and the New York Daily News. Most trades involved information he wanted about a particular person at a particular moment––and he would then owe his source a favor in the future.
“Donald Trump was the biggest guy in the world with that,” he said. “Trump spent every morning on the phone with me, with Page 6––he loved to get his name in the paper. As a result, he would drop dimes on other people in every industry he knew dirt on. You put the story in the paper, and then, three days later, you say, ‘Donald Trump was at a Knicks game with this supermodel.’ And he’s happy. That’s all it took.”
The presumptive Republican nominee harshly criticized the judge presiding over a Trump University lawsuit.
Gonzalo Curiel is a federal judge in southern California and a former federal prosecutor. He is also, according to Donald Trump, “a hater of Donald Trump.”
The presumptive Republican nominee for president devoted almost a quarter of his hour-long rally in San Diego on Friday night to criticizing Curiel, who is currently presiding over a class-action lawsuit against the real-estate businessman for his role in Trump University.
During his disjoined remarks at the rally, Trump invoked Curiel’s ethnicity, said the judge should recuse himself from the trial, called for an investigation into him, described him as “negative” and a “hater,” insisted on a summary dismissal of the case, complained about being “railroaded by a legal system,” and asserted he would win the trial.
Finally, an explanation for Bitchy Resting Face Nation
Here’s something that has always puzzled me, growing up in the U.S. as a child of Russian parents. Whenever I or my friends were having our photos taken, we were told to say “cheese” and smile. But if my parents also happened to be in the photo, they were stone-faced. So were my Russian relatives, in their vacation photos. My parents’ high-school graduation pictures show them frolicking about in bellbottoms with their young classmates, looking absolutely crestfallen.
It’s not just photos: Russian women do not have to worry about being instructed by random men to “smile.” It is Bitchy Resting Face Nation, seemingly forever responding “um, I guess?” to any question the universe might pose.
This does not mean we are all unhappy! Quite the opposite: The virile ruler, the vodka, the endless mounds of sour cream—they are pleasing to some. It’s just that grinning without cause is not a skill Russians possess or feel compelled to cultivate. There’s even a Russian proverb that translates, roughly, to “laughing for no reason is a sign of stupidity.”
A conversation about how Game of Thrones’s latest twist fits in with George R.R. Martin’s typically cliché-busting portrayal of disability
In 2014, a few media outlets ran stories diagnosing Game of Thrones’s Hodor as having expressive aphasia, a neurological condition restricting speech. Some aphasia experts pushed back, saying that while Hodor has often been described as “simple-minded” or “slow of wits,” aphasia only affects linguistic communication—not intelligence.
It's easy to forget how tiny, arbitrary, everyday decisions can shape a kid's school experience.
In third grade, I got back a spelling quiz with red ink next to the word kitchen. I asked the teacher what my mistake was, and she pointed to my sloppy handwriting: “That r should be a c.”
“That is a c!” I said. “Why would I spell ‘kitchen’ with an r?”
“You tell me,” the teacher said. She strolled off.
That episode stands out among my memories of the year. More than sculpting dragons and writing Halloween stories, more than field trips, math games, and girls I had crushes on, what I remember most vividly is this unfairness. Never mind how trivial and meaningless it was.
It was a c, darn it.
When I became a teacher, I became preoccupied with the enduring legacies of school. I began wondering why we forget so much (quick—what’s a logarithm?) and why we remember what we do. I thought back to my own strongest recollections and quizzed my friends about theirs. A few themes emerged: teachers’ rambling anecdotes, cute lab partners, getting away with mischief.
A rock structure, built deep underground, is one of the earliest hominin constructions ever found.
In February 1990, thanks to a 15-year-old boy named Bruno Kowalsczewski, footsteps echoed through the chambers of Bruniquel Cave for the first time in tens of thousands of years.
The cave sits in France’s scenic Aveyron Valley, but its entrance had long been sealed by an ancient rockslide. Kowalsczewski’s father had detected faint wisps of air emerging from the scree, and the boy spent three years clearing away the rubble. He eventually dug out a tight, thirty-meter-long passage that the thinnest members of the local caving club could squeeze through. They found themselves in a large, roomy corridor. There were animal bones and signs of bear activity, but nothing recent. The floor was pockmarked with pools of water. The walls were punctuated by stalactites (the ones that hang down) and stalagmites (the ones that stick up).
As I learned when I met her, the late author believed that true arrogance lay in denying one's own specialness—and denying the specialness of others.
“You may now kiss my cheek,” said Maya Angelou. Her deep voice hung in the air, filling the large dining room inside of her Harlem home.
Stunned, I sat there for a minute. I had never been asked at the end of an interview to kiss someone else’s cheek.
It was October 2008 and I had flown to New York after haggling for months for an interview for an in-flight magazine cover story. Prior to the interview, a set of “communication courtesy” instructions for meeting Angelou were emailed to me, much like a list I imagine boarding schools send out to students for review before making an appearance.
Greeting & Introductions
Dr. Angelou will greet you by your last name. She will use your title and your last name in all communications. Dr. Angelou may ask you the origin of your name. You should greet her as Dr. or Mrs. Angelou. Please address her staff as Mr., Ms., or Mrs. - using their last name.
Dr. Angelou would like to receive an agenda prior to the meeting.
Dr. Angelou will often pause prior to speaking or when completing her thought.
Please hold your thought until she is finishing speaking.
Dr. Angelou speaks five different languages. She will enjoy speaking French, Spanish, Hebrew, Italian, or Fanti with you.
During formal business, meetings Dr. Angelou ask the men to wear a jacket and tie and women in appropriate business attire.
Dr. Angelou requires warm rooms. You may choose to remove your jacket or loosen your tie if you find the room too warm.
Dr. Angelou would like for participants in the same meeting to arrive together on time.
Dr. Angelou will sit in the chair at the end of the table to have access to her staff and phones.
Dr. Angelou is highly allergic to seafood. Please do not eat any seafood prior to meeting with her.
Our peshmerga are the best fighting force against ISIS in Iraq. But we cannot force Sunni and Shia Arabs to live together in peace.
This week marked the start of offensives ultimately aimed at retaking two of ISIS’s last major urban strongholds—Raqqa, the group’s de facto capital in Syria, and Fallujah, the first major Iraqi city to fall to ISIS some two years ago. The final prize, Mosul, seems to remain out of reach for the foreseeable future, despite indications a year ago that a battle to retake the city could come any day. An Iraqi army offensive launched in late March stalled quickly.
Mosul is Iraq’s second-largest city. ISIS wrested it from Iraqi government control in 2014 in its first major show of strength, and it is where Islamic State leader Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi declared a “caliphate” and demanded the allegiance of the world’s Muslims. Taking it back will be essential to winning the war against ISIS. But as fighters opposed to ISIS try to advance elsewhere on the battlefield, little is being done to promote the reconciliation between Shia and Sunni Arabs that Iraq really needs—both to construct a force capable of beating ISIS, in Mosul and beyond, and to create the political conditions to prevent its return.