All Your Cousins in One House: Mexican’s, Bush’s and the Changing Faces in American Politics

The ever changing face of the Republican party is finally getting the long awaited make over it needs to regain favour with the growing majority in the United States: the Hispanic population. Like we knew it would, this renaissance is going to begin in Texas.

The Lone Star state has a hotshot politician on the farm causing a number of GOP-ers to salivate in anticipation of his arrival into the big dust-up that is American politics.

What has voters, policymakers and Ol’ Rick Perry in Austin clamouring is what this 36 year old has in his bag of tricks.

He has pedigree, carried with him by a legacy not always favourable, but a name that is the conservative answer to the Kennedy’s. Secondly, and most importantly, he is a child of a Mexican-born mother into a family with blood bluer than the mighty Pacific.

If you haven’t guessed it by now, it’s another Bush; another George Bush because, well they all are.

George P. Bush is the grandson of George H.W, nephew of George W. and son of Jeb and his wife Columba.

This list of heavy hitting political names is like something out of Middle-Earth, and should be enough to give Democrats a sudden shiver because his first stop will be for a seat in Texas, then you know where Bush’s always end up–the South Lawn at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave sipping Shiner Bock.

If George P. is serious about running for office (and we know that’s all Bush’s do, aside from become insanely wealthy) he is just what the GOP is looking for, fitting snugly in with John Boehner and Sean Hannity’s backtrack on immigration policy.

During the recent election President Obama was re-elected largely impart to owning 71% of the Hispanic vote nationally. Romney wasn’t helped the riotous language the Tea Partiers were filling the GOP rhetoric with, as the recent election showed the Hispanic vote is growing while the white vote is way down; proving that Tea Partiers like to moan and keep things the way they are so as not to go to the trouble of finding something new to moan about.

The fact George P. Bush is a Texan (sort of, he grew up in Florida) like his Uncle and Grandpapy (who were breaking bones in Connecticut, and found homes in Texas after Yale) where Hispanics make up 35% of state population. P. Bush is everything that the Republican Party is looking for: he speaks Spanish, has Republican values and has that delicious pedigree the GOP voters gobble up.

However, it isn’t all doom and gloom for the Democrats as the Republican’s aren’t the only ones to have blue chip Hispanic leaders waiting in the wings. The Castro brothers, identical twins from, wait for it–Texas–are both currently in the thick of San Antonio politics, with Joaquin just being elected to the 20th Congressional district, and Julian still mayor of San Antonio. They believe that Texas is in for a big political shake-up, and they might be right as they have caused some in the Texas GOP to grow nervous, and that’s what will make the future of American Politics really exciting.

It is because of this that I will make the prediction that in the next 3 or 4 elections you will see a Hispanic as the President of the United States of America. One party will make the first move and the other will counter with their promising star–it’s the way it works.

However, this should give Democrats reason to be concerned because if there is two things the American public love it’s change and continuity. We are a contrary sort, but George P. Bush offers satisfaction to this contradiction. He is a new face, with an interesting new voice while still possessing a name that has a long history of “success” in American politics. The Castro’s on the other hand share a name with a frightening figure from the 20th century, which would undoubtedly be brought into the ring, much as President Obama’s name was associated with nefarious terrorist figures and Iraqi leaders. Politics are just that petty.

Though I’m not really a fan of a Bush dynasty, I love what this means for my race, culture and the future of my nation. I am a half-blood Mexican and have long witnessed my family suffer as a result of their heritage and absence of voice. My great-granduncle rode with Pancho Villa, and my great grandmother stood side by side with Caesar Chavez, but that was as far as their puny inexhaustible voices would carry, until now. The landscape is changing and I’m sad that some of them never got the opportunity to see their hard work; their blood, sweat, tears and constant poverty come to mean something for the generations they struggled for.

I’m proud to be Mexican, and I’m proud to be American–but what brings the most pride is that we aren’t simply learning to speak the language of the nation, the landscape has changed so much that America is finally learning to speak ours–and my family would be proud.

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Who Did You Wake Up Next to Last Night: How the Republican Party is Learning from its Dalliances

With the hangover from the election beginning to subside, things are starting to take shape; the haze is beginning to clear and what was done the night prior is piecing together. What we’ve learned over the last 36 hours of wildness is that the Republicans are in dire need of a little heartbreaking.

Over the last 18 months or so Republican candidates vying for office in every race across the United States bowed to the lunatic fringe; fear mongering ran rampant; tales of a new brand of economic woe that would funnel the nation into a cataclysmic tailspin of rapturous proportions if the left-devils and their heathen blood won. Then there was the racism. The heavy panting urgency to get them non-American’s out of the country–that being anyone that didn’t think like a Tea Partier, or a true conservative. It was like mad cow disease; the fever went to the brain. But that wasn’t the worst of it; it was the candidate’s decision to use it to their advantage rather than to a halt to it.

They made their bed, laid in it with about 100,000 of their lunatic friends and are now paying the price–there is a democrat sleeping between the Egyptian sheets in the White House.

Because of this the Republican Party is beginning to buckle; the party is at odds with itself and internal bickering is causing the fractures to show. The hard line policies that they had adhered to in the months leading up to the election failed them because they overestimated the amount of hard line Americans there were. There weren’t enough, and for many of us that should be a result; something to hang a hat on, but for some reason it doesn’t feel like a victory.

I love my country and more or less I love my people–despite their impressive ability to make expats look awful–but racism is a problem in the country. I’m not suggesteing that it was ever perfect, but the problem is that is weaving its way back into the media and in conversations the youth of our country will see on social media. By seeing adult speak the way they are about their President, and the fact that he is a Black man is absolutely appalling. Those Tea Partiers and vehement conservatives that are looking to take the constitution back seem to forget the first lines of the Declaration of Independence:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed…

This doesn’t simply extend to white men, or white women, but all men and women of all races, and beliefs. We are of the same fabric but woven separately.

We are a resilient nation who has been forced at times to endure great struggles, as well as little tiffs that caused great whining. We will get through whatever you see as a problem, and even the stuff you can’t see. That is why I can’t see the rationale behind the lunatic fringe paying their respects to a nation that will apparently fall into the sea (where, they will join the Bay Area, which has been there for decades in their minds), and bemoan a glorious past that seems too far gone. I won’t even beginning to mention those discussing secession, civil war and the various other great overstatements made famous by that special brand of American whine-ism made evident over the last few days.

There is little need to fixate of these gross statements of pure ignorance because regardless of your Republican sensibilities, Democrat peccadilloes, choice of state color or independent voting habits any sensible human being can see that suggesting the nation will plunge into an age of darkness with the election of President Obama has a short list of possibilities: you’re a racist; a product of too much television; or you’re pleased because it’s a sign of the oncoming rapture.

The sensible Republican’s are working at rebuilding the image that this election, and those maniacs they got into bed with, damaged because like all parties, a handful of scratched CDs can ruin the fun for everyone.

John Boehner is no dummy he changed the direction of the party without waiting for the hangover to subside. He knew where he had been the night before and led the pre-emptive call to let the equally guilty second party that it was a one-night thing; a mistake and it wasn’t going to happen again.

That first call was to the Tea Party:

“Hey, so…last night. You know, I’d had a lot to drink and I was in a really vulnerable place, but I want to let you know that we’re gonna change our stance on immigration. Sorry.”

The new generation of Republican is moving to a more centrist attitude, a more social open individual, and after the massive swing the Hispanic vote brought to the Democrats it’s almost as if the Republicans are just now realizing that Hispanics are actually a real thing; not something like the Loch Ness monster which pundits and super PACs use to frighten voters.

Now people like my grandparents, who are Mexican, make a difference; they matter.  Where were they in the 60s when Caesar Chavez was marching for the rights of the field hands? Where were the republicans when Mestiza’s and Mestizo’s were being terrorized for not being American enough, or Mexican enough? Now our vote matters because the white vote carries less weight than it did in the past.

This first change in song is evident that the Republican machine is no longer going to stand for the lunatic fringe infiltrating good, sound policy. Radical conservatism isn’t the answer to our economic woes, nor is it the answer to our foreign policy. Whether one is religious, atheist, indifferent or too capitalist to give a damn, we are all human beings and want the same things out of life: love, a bit of happiness and equality.

I’m not going to make out like Republicanism is synonymous with racism or bigotry because that is just as inflammatory as suggesting that President Obama’s win was “Pearl Harbor,” and “tomorrow you plan for Normandy.” The Republican’s played to their opponent and worked the field they way they thought best. A certain sect of the voters wanted this radical conservatism, but far less than they anticipated. They are changing, and changing for the better, and if this brings the immigration reform back to the table and lightens the current restrictions on immigrants in the USA, amazing. It’s late, but it is better than never.

Sometimes a little bender, and a one-night stand with a lunatic has benefits.

Election Day at the World’s Favourite Whorehouse

We are on the cusp of yet another election day in the United States, which whether you like it or not, has some bearing on the rest of the world.

I say that not with a riot of patriotism and deep fried food overflowing from my mouth as one would expect from an American, but rather, as a keen observer into the nature of my country’s role in the wider world.

America has been the prettiest thing at the whorehouse for sometime and like the Cathouse’s highest earner she hasn’t climbed to that position without a little shrewdness, and a few loose morals; she’ll do pretty much anything for the right price. She doesn’t mind that the other girls hate her for taking food out of their mouth; the John’s get what they want, but never the way they want to get it; and both she and the proprietor know that without her the house has nothing. Everyone wants something from her, but it’s all something they wished they could get from home.

So, what we’re getting this Election Day is not a new call girl, but rather, a new proprietor. This isn’t anything new, it’s something continuous; something woven deep into the fabric of American politics–the President of the United States is the figurehead, the individual who takes the glory and the criticism for four, or eight years. But, the policymakers, the wheel turners spend their life in Washington, and it’s crazy to think that they’d let someone with a finite position of power dictate how they do their job. That is why once the fiery rhetoric of the campaign trail reduces to a simmer and there is only action to do, we’d be foolish to believe that what was said will be done for our benefit, or even done at all. There will only be the altruistic ankle grab for god and country–and god is the individual who is calling the shots, and makes the money; country is the conduit through which it is filtered or fumbled away.

Election Day in the United States has the same wild clamour as the pre-coitus anticipation of prostitution, but the pretty words whispered in throws of paid for passion can’t be rightly believed. The induced drama, feigned emotion and the loveable scamp who emerges victorious of the American Presidential race is as perfectly formatted as the reality shows our society never fails to ridicule across social media, and possesses the same duplicity as curling up in a Snuggie while eating heaps of Ben & Jerry’s in between long, exasperated–ohh my God’s.

I’m no sentimentalist, and as much as much as I try not to be a cynic I know that much of this hope is a result of the US media setting the public up for a terrific letdown. But, for once I’m not privy to this premeditated spectacle. This is my first Election Day away from home, providing me a long distance view of the American political machine steamrolling across the nation. For the first time in my life I am afforded the luxury of sitting removed from all of the detritus being passed from candidate to candidate. I can hear better than I have before; I can see the words spinning from each candidates mouth as they make promises the public will forget because being removed allows me to see through the glitter, above the low cut shirts and to keep my eyes off the short skirts; I can finally see that pleasure is sold at a premium and vanishes before you leave the polling booth.

Now, I’m a cynic but that doesn’t mean I’d take away any of Election Day’s value. Few days rival the amount of hope and promise existing in the hours leading up to decision time. Sure, we may only be looking for a proprietor that can reason with our number one girl but no one can argue that we don’t walk into those final hours with the overflowing hope that when we wake up tomorrow our world, our little corner of the planet will be a better, happier place.

All while the rest of the world waits to find out how the rest of the whorehouse’s politics will unfold.