On May 26th, incumbent Senator John Cornyn (R-TX) lost re-election to challenger Ken Paxton in a runoff of March’s Texas primaries. This news delighted nobody more than James Talarico, the Democratic nominee for Cornyn’s seat. Paxton is a scandal-plagued Texas Attorney General who, in 2023, was impeached on 20 articles by a Republican-controlled Texas State House . Though his approval ratings have since recovered to his pre-impeachment levels, which are still quite low (his current approval is a mere 34%), he has an unshakable reputation of corruption. Paxton is a political liability, and Talarico, a Democrat trying to win in a red state, should feel much better about his chances against Paxton than against Cornyn. Immediately after Paxton was officially called the winner, Cook Political Report shifted the Senate race’s marker from “Likely Republican” to “Lean Republican.” Though this still positions Talarico as an underdog, he now finds himself in striking distance of the Republicans, energizing Democratic donors in their effort to flip the Senate blue. More interesting than how Talarico’s numbers responded in the immediate aftermath of Paxton’s victory is how Talarico himself responded. Before saying anything about Paxton, he posted this to his X page: One tweet is not likely to move the needle for many voters, but this kind of across-the-aisle messaging is the right choice. This bipartisan strategy may have backfired for the left in 2024, when Democrats received internal flak for trying to appeal to traditional Republicans with campaign appearances from Liz Cheney, but that certainly should not be taken as a cautionary tale for James Talarico. Unlike Harris, who ran a national campaign, Talarico is running for Senate in a red state. Winning a Republican electorate means winning Republican votes. Opting to attract conservative voters rather than simply energizing the left wing of the Democratic base is not a choice in Texas, it is a necessity. Where Talarico runs into danger of repeating the past mistakes of Democrats is his rhetoric on Paxton. After posting the above tweet, Talarico released a video in which he calls Paxton “the most corrupt politician in America.” He then announced a tour of rallies titled “The People vs. Ken Paxton Tour,” invoking the language of court cases in a clear attempt to remind voters of Ken Paxton’s legal troubles. Talarico, like many Democrats before him trying to navigate this populist era, is painting his race as a morally significant standoff between good and evil rather than as a politically significant standoff between left and right. A morally charged framing may be the most accurate portrayal of what Texas’s Senate race has become, but that does not make the framing politically advantageous. Democrats used this sort of virtue-signaling rhetoric against President Trump in 2024. They frequently invoked Trump’s status as a convicted felon and, as they had done in past election cycles, referred to their fight against Trump as “the most important election of our lifetime.” All Trump had to do to counter this was portray himself as a fighter against the political elite, and, disturbingly, that was enough for Republicans to shrug off Trump’s criminal status as a left-wing sham and it was enough for the country to re-elect him to the Presidency. If relying on Republican corruption was not enough for Democrats in 2024, why would it be enough for them in 2026? James Talarico’s messaging on Paxton carries the stench of Kamala Harris’s failure. However, Talarico is admittedly using this messaging in a different context. Ken Paxton’s crimes are closer to home, and therefore perhaps more real, for Texans than Donald Trump’s New York trial. Though, even this has its pitfalls for Talarico. If all of Texas knows that Paxton is corrupt, do the voters need the reminder? Texans do not need help deciding which candidate is more corrupt if they already have their answer. They need help deciding which candidate will make their lives easier. That should be the focus of Talarico’s message, rather than the virtue-signaling that destroyed Kamala Harris.
By Jack Jurjans
Being a “fixer” is a catch-22. Work marked by altruism and advocacy seems admirable and often has a benign beginning. The problem with profiting off recompense is that the relevance of the fixer depends upon the prevalence of the injustice. As the inner workings of the SPLC (Southern Poverty Law Center) came to light in April 2026, we are reminded that reform and corruption can be two sides of the same coin. The year 2020 is shrouded in infamy, and for good reason, as the world seemed to collectively burst with rage. Burdened with isolation, the online space became an outlet for restless souls deprived of real-life interaction. Among the range of niche communities that emerged on social media platforms, notable uproar came from one domain in particular: racial injustice. From protests surrounding the death of George Floyd to the destruction of historical statues, grievances that had long simmered reached their boiling point. As a high school senior graduating in 2020, I had a front-row seat to the digitized wrath unleashed across my feed. Peers, creators, celebrities, and institutions alike abandoned their usual content to declare solidarity with racial minorities, proving their allegiance by posting a black square. What was commonly referred to as “wokeism” took on a new form, fueling riots and compiling a catalog of buzzwords such as “systemic racism,” “white privilege,” “cultural appropriation,” and “microaggressions.” Innocent actions were suddenly assumed to be sinister, such as complimenting a minority’s hairstyle or engaging in baseline patriotic acts like waving the American flag on the Fourth of July. Political discourse had always been contentious. Avoiding politics and religion has long been considered social etiquette due to the historic division both subjects inspire. Yet partisan polarization now seemed to exceed all social norms. Rising with brazen hostility, the public square held little separation between the personal and the political. Those with preexisting leanings found satisfaction in their most extreme forms, and though the novel chaos of 2020 subsided over the last six years, racial tensions have persisted alongside the crusade for reparations. While advocacy for racial equity can be found in online outrage, political jargon, and institutional statements, one nonprofit organization has long been a pillar of civil rights litigation: the Southern Poverty Law Center. The organization heralds itself as a “defender of racial justice” and claims to combat a multitude of social inequities. Offering resources across Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, and Mississippi, the SPLC presents itself as the ultimate advocate for the historically oppressed. Anyone who navigates to the SPLC website will encounter a multitude of related causes, including “dismantling white supremacy” and “ending unjust imprisonment.” Regardless of whether you consider yourself a social justice warrior or align with the conservative skeptic, nothing about this NGO’s existence is shocking, nor is its philosophy novel. But the indictment reportedly charged against the SPLC by a federal grand jury should be buzzworthy across party lines. The U.S. Department of Justice’s Office of Public Affairs issued a press release on April 21, 2026, detailing charges against the SPLC. The statement cites eleven counts of wire fraud, false statements, and conspiracy to commit money laundering. Beyond enriching itself, the SPLC’s alleged criminality reportedly benefited the most unlikely of parties: Klansmen. The DOJ press release expanded on the investigation’s findings, reporting: “According to the indictment, starting in the 1980s, the SPLC began operating a covert network of individuals who were either associated with violent and extremist groups, such as the Ku Klux Klan, or who had infiltrated violent extremist groups at the SPLC’s direction. Unbeknownst to donors, some of their donated money was being used to fund the leaders and organizers of racist groups at the same time that the SPLC was denouncing the same groups on its website.” The SPLC has unsurprisingly pleaded not guilty to the charges, framing them as a vindictive move by the Trump administration. In both the prosecution and the defense, the same insight can be gathered: extremism is not encouraged for the sake of public interest. Grievance culture has paralyzed young adults—more so on the left in decades past—but the “woke right” has stumbled into its own sense of victimhood in recent years. The rationality of political campaign slogans now seems to carry little more substance than conspiratorial influencers such as those featured in the hit Netflix documentary The Manosphere. The rhetoric propelled by the SPLC is one of victimhood, fatalism, and ever-increasing threat, while the fringe right points fingers at Jewish communities and unidentified pedophile rings supposedly run by the elite. While the subject of blame differs across the political spectrum, both ends identify with deep disillusionment. Consistent on either extreme is the incrimination of “the system,” as well as a widespread urge to distrust the powerful. From millennials to Gen Z, the line between advocacy and identification with the problem itself has become increasingly thin. Embracing the “victim mindset” has been a popular subject of authorship and research, and cultural terminology like “victim Olympics” speaks to the phenomenon in which suffering is coveted. Author Charles Sykes posits in his book A Nation of Victims: The Decay of the American Character that victim mentalities are partially rooted in an entitled expectation of happiness. But they also emerge at the group level. An article in Scientific American summarizes a key finding from corresponding research: “A strong sense of collective victimhood is associated with a low willingness to forgive and an increased desire for revenge. This finding has been replicated in diverse contexts, including thinking of the Holocaust, the conflict in Northern Ireland and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict”—and arguably in the rhetoric of the SPLC. The organization, much like individuals who adopt a victim mentality, appears to hinge on the severity of racial injustice rather than the reversal of it. The SPLC’s very existence is threatened if the cause it champions loses relevance. Input from such institutions contributes to the “socialization process,” referring to learned victim beliefs. Drawing again from psychological findings, Scientific American notes the consequences of perpetual victimhood:
By Mia Downing
An Increasingly Digital World Results in Fewer Payments Involving Cash; Wikimedia Commons With an increasingly digital and globalized financial system, countries around the world are preparing for the implementation of Central Bank Digital Currencies (CBDC). Only a few central banks have implemented them so far, but many more—including the Federal Reserve, European Central Bank, and Bank of England—are actively researching and developing them. Although the vast majority of currency in circulation is already stored in databases rather than physical bank vaults or wallets, this digital financial network is far from centralized. Commercial banks individually manage their databases and payment networks, but with a CBDC this responsibility would be delegated to the central bank issuing said currency. Central banks are advertising their conveniences of lower transaction costs, no credit or liquidity risk, and more efficient storage in order to gain support for this upcoming financial technology. Furthermore, they argue that by creating a centralized payment system and monetary database, it will be easier to stop and trace the origins of money laundering and shut down illegal markets. But what central banks are actually seeking is more control over their patrons’ daily lives. Giving them massive power in law enforcement will enable them not only to monitor virtually all purchases, but also to control them. Governments around the world are already limiting “large” financial transactions through apps and cash payments. They will also be able to detect these transactions even quicker without having to rely on businesses and commercial banks as middlemen reporters. And, there is reason to believe that governments around the world will use CBDCs to track more than just drug dealers and terrorists: crackdowns on protests in the United Kingdom have resulted in the arrests of thousands of people for harmless social media posts and in prohibitions against the entry of foreigners who speak against mass immigration. With a digital pound, it would only be easier for the British government to continue its assault on free speech by shutting off protestors’ abilities to purchase essentials for daring to express the wrong opinion. This resembles what happened under Justin Trudeau’s response to trucker protests against COVID-19 vaccine mandates in 2022 when he ordered banks to freeze the accounts of truckers he deemed to be involved. And, on a much larger scale, China has used AI and facial recognition cameras to place hundreds of millions of its citizens under constant surveillance in order to crush political dissent. This shows the dangers of a massive digital infrastructure when it is placed into the hands of a central government. Even here in America, civil asset forfeiture could be greatly quickened and abused on a large scale with Central Bank Digital currencies. This would give the state the power to instantly deny its citizens the ability to purchase food and shelter if they were deemed an enemy. And even if you trust your government, would you trust a cyberattacker who breaches a database containing finances for hundreds of millions of Americans? A centralized database would only make it easier for said cyberattackers to do so, which has already happened to the Social Security Administration. There exists a digital resistance option to CBDCs: cryptocurrencies. Cryptocurrencies such as Bitcoin and Ethereum offer near complete anonymity to patrons due to their use of decentralized blockchain networks. On the other hand, commercial banks using dollars must constantly report holdings to governmental agencies. Understandably, however, many are reluctant to purchase cryptocurrencies due to their volatile prices and high transaction energy costs. There exists yet another, simpler alternative: cash. Cash, too, cannot be traced by major financial institutions or governments. However, unlike crypto, cash reserves are accessible not only during cyberattacks, but also during blackouts or in areas of low internet connectivity. As it turns out, giving up one’s essential liberty with the goal of purchasing temporary security will result in a permanent loss of both.
By Edward Kim
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