Last week, at an election night party, a few folks who know me primarily from my work as a journalist asked if I was attending the event in hopes of writing a story about it. When I told them no, that I was just there as a friend and supporter of the candidate, one or two of them expressed surprise. Pleasant surprise, but surprise nonetheless.
Alarm bells have rung in the halls of power as vibrant, progressive candidates have swept Democratic primaries in recent weeks. Now, members of the center-left political establishment, desperate to cling to the sclerotic approach which has driven the Democratic Party to its electoral nadir, are joining hands with Republicans to decry the upstart winners as an existential threat.
A domestic terrorist plot was disrupted two weeks ago, and virtually nobody in the media or government is describing it for what it was: a work of Christian extremism. The plot is another datapoint indicating the nation’s growing problem with Christian nationalist violence, a phenomenon which has been mostly obscured by the mainstream media’s unwillingness to describe it accurately.
A high-profile political rally featuring Democratic congressional candidates and social media influencers from around the country took place at the state Capitol on Sunday after three separate local venues canceled contracts with the organizers. At least two of the three venues that backed out of the event are owned by or otherwise financially entangled with Republican mega-donor Phil Anschutz, Colorado’s wealthiest citizen. Though Anschutz has long been known for his involvement with Republican politics, the rally dust-up is yet another indication of his growing attempts to influence Democratic politics as well.
Hundreds of Colorado Democrats gathered for the state party’s DemFest over the weekend in a final show of unity before primary elections devolve into all-out knife fighting for the rest of the month. After spending a few hours watching forums, reading campaign literature, and talking to surrogates, I left with one question on my mind:
On the first Tuesday after the first Monday in November 2026, most Americans will not vote. In the coverage of the upcoming election, between now and then, that fact will not garner many mentions. Nor will it garner many mentions in the after-the-fact reporting once the election has come and gone, or in the after-action assessments produced by whichever of the two major parties loses the midterms. It’s a glaring political blindspot in a system where elections are determined every bit as much by who stays home as by who turns out.
A 2023 poll by Pew Research showed that 84% of Americans believe that “special interest groups and lobbyists have too much say in what happens in politics.” In a democratic system, where representatives are intended to listen to the will of the people but are often seen as being swayed by the Wormtongue-like influence of lobbyists, it’s understandable how the profession came to be demonized. While lobbyists are often painted purely as extensions of corporate power into the halls of governance, I always find it interesting to note the extent to which different levels of government lobby against each other – and the amount of taxpayer dollars they spend doing it.
There were snow flurries in the air on the day in early 2022 when two FBI agents knocked on my door. I was taking an afternoon power nap at the time, but my partner answered the door, then came to wake me up with words I will never forget.
Luis Rivas never made it home from his trip to Walmart last June. The 60-year-old father and businessman who had spent the last 18 years building a life, a family, and a company in the Roaring Fork Valley was approached in the parking lot by Garfield County Sheriff’s Office deputies while he ran errands. Soon, he was in handcuffs.
Originally published on April 24, 2025
