I love the stories of CA's demise. Finally, as one famous presidential spiritual advisor put it, the chickens are coming home to roooooooooost.
After hiking our taxes, the state legislature asked us to vote ourselves another tax increase. Californians, in a rare outburst of common sense, voted against increasing their own taxes. The pro-tax side (unions, et. al.) outspent the anti-tax side by a 10-1 margin and still lost. After decades of craven and misguided policies, our wise solons in Sacramento are finally starting to feel some pain.
Granted, it's nothing like the pain Maria Consuela Guitierrez feels every single second of her waking life. You see, Ms. Guitierrez is what is now called an "undocumented American." Just like you and me, minus the documents and plus the treacherous desert passage to El Norte. Just like me, trying to raise her 6 kids (one is autistic) by 3 fathers; all the while, tremerous w/ fear, she lives life in the shadows, afraid of deportation due solely to her prior felony conviction (she was drunk, doesn't really remember, plus, details pollute the narrative).
She has said as much, or at least tried to; she doesn't speak English. Or Spanish. She speaks Texaquilquo, the native tounge of a small Northwestern Mexican village. Her pain is unique and exceptional (except for the 5 billion other people who have it worse); the sine qua non, if you will, for the existence of the Democratic party in California.
For only they can feel her pain, and the pain of those similarly situated. Only they possess the empathy and intellect to propose innovative policy solutions (take money from me, give to Maria, keep a cut for self) to these unique problems (OMG! Somebody's poor!) that are to everyone's satisfaction.
By the way, the picture is of Karen Bass. Assembly Speaker for the great state of CA. I double-dooky-spacedog-dare you to guess what her career was prior to "public service."
Community Organizer.
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