Just Desserts

Identity politics is a losers game.

For honkies.

Elizabeth Warren, no matter what one thought of her was the “Go-To” interviewee for a reasoned (if inflammatory) comment on events of the day. She was indefatigable, never running out of colored twin set cardigans, constantly windmilling her arms, repeatedly shaking her Depression-era straight hair

She was everywhere, running in airports, drinking beer.

Despite her act, Warren actually had the goods.

She was bright, a former law professor, had a bona fide nerd vibe.

She was originally a whiter than Wonder Bread Okie.

And then something happened.

Maybe she found herself in Rutgers School of Law in decaying Newark, NJ, ambitious and frustrated and decided that she needed to promote herself as a minority.

It was in pre-Ancestry.com days. And didn’t she have high cheekbones? She chose to identify as a Cherokee. It was a clever move. The Cherokees have been intermarried with Caucasians for centuries. The only other person I ever met who claimed Cherokee descent looked like she could’ve run for Miss Norway.

Warren could have researched whether or not really had Native American ancestry before she ever went public. Apparently, she failed to do so and “relied” on “family lore.”

Lot of good it did her.

She was surpassed by a giggling, low-wattage, political flunky who also claimed minority (African American) descent.

No one worked harder to get the Democratic nomination that Warren.

No one worked less than Kamala  Harris.

Once Harris secured the nomination, she didn’t campaign much. She gave few speeches and interviews. She didn’t even seem to prepare for her one debate with Vice-President Mike Pence.

Warren should switch her registration to the Republican party. She once was a Republican. She doesn’t belong in the Democratic party.