Let's go Cruzing again! It's always a trip to cruise down the narrow roads and hard right turns of Sen. Ted Cruz's mind -- a place so dark that no light has ever penetrated it.

Today's trip was prompted by the Texas senator's own recent attempt to carjack our entire US government and drive it into financial default, thus causing markets to crash and our economy to collapse. What was he thinking?

Well, about himself, as usual. Cruz is a product of the far-out tea party fringe, and he's trying to impress them with this own extreme fringiness, hoping they'll make him their candidate for president next year. Yes, this goofball thinks that by wrecking the government of our country, we'll elect him to head it. Strange.

Cruz -- whose disastrous ego trip of a filibuster last October actually shut down our government for over two weeks, causing an economic loss of $24 billion -- recently tried again to be a human monkey wrench. This time, he tried to filibuster a measure to extend the debt limit, forcing his fellow Republicans to stop him. He was toying with the destruction of America's full faith and credit, and Republicans did not want to go into this fall's senatorial election as the party of default.

So, to avoid both financial and political catastrophe, a glum and angry Mitch McConnell, the GOP senate leader, had to round up Republican votes to curb Kamikaze Cruz's megalomaniacal maneuver. Even Rupert Murdoch's right-wing Wall Street Journal lambasted the narcissistic Texas extremist for making his party "walk the plank" on this "meaningless debt ceiling vote."

One observer noted how eerie it was to watch Cruz with his hands in his pants pockets, chewing gum, and smirking as he watched his senate colleagues cut off his latest outburst of runaway ego. Cruzing with Ted is not just strange -- it's insane.

Listen to this commentary:

Photo: Christopher Halloran / Shutterstock.com.



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Forty years ago the UN General Assembly passed a resolution against "hostile environmental modification techniques...

The beauty and the tragedy of everyday life in a war zone.

By Wendell Berry

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more 
of everything ready made. Be afraid 
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery 
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card 
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something 
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know. 
So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord. 
Love the world. Work for nothing. 
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it. 
Denounce the government and embrace 
the flag. Hope to live in that free 
republic for which it stands. 
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man 
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers. 
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.

Say that the leaves are harvested 
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus 
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion—put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come. 
Expect the end of the world. Laugh. 
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts. 
So long as women do not go cheap 
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy 
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep 
of a woman near to giving birth? 
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie easy in the shade. Rest your head 
in her lap. Swear allegiance 
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos 
can predict the motions of your mind, 
lose it. Leave it as a sign 
to mark the false trail, the way 
you didn’t go. Be like the fox 
who makes more tracks than necessary, 
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

Wendell Berry is a poet, farmer, and environmentalist in Kentucky. This poem, first published in 1973, is reprinted by permission of the author and appears in his “New Collected Poems” (Counterpoint).

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