TX SEN: John Cornyn Lacks Substance

We know John Cornyn is a Bush lap-dog who spouts his party’s line like it was the Lord’s Prayer. We know that John Cornyn was very likely a draft-dodger. And, we know that John Cornyn supported segregationist George Wallace for President. But, what about the real substance behind the man Lt. Col. and State Rep. Rick Noriega will defeat next November.

You can tell a lot about what an elected official thinks and does by the columns they are often privileged to be able to scatter through our state’s newspapers like pepper on mashed potatoes. In John Cornyn’s case, if you read his columns, you might get the impression (and rightfully so) that he has about as much substance as a bag of instant mashed potatoes.

Over the past year, he’s extolled the virtues of Blue Bell Ice Cream, shared his undying (and, we’re sure, completely platonic) love for Big Tex, and even offered a history lesson on the Texas Cowboy.

Oh, the substance! Our nation is mired n the quagmire that is Iraq, the NSA is probably reading this very blog post (as I type it!), children are without healthcare, and Mr. Substance, Jr., delivers messages like this to voters in his weekly columns:

County fairs and rodeos, usually in the winter or spring, are a staple of Texas life. The state fair over three autumn weeks has many similar ingredients, including youth livestock raising competitions. But everything is bigger.

Fairgoers are greeted by Big Tex, a 52-foot inflatable figure that started life as a Santa promoting Christmas shopping in Kerens, Texas. He was redressed in country gear for the 1952 fair, and he began talking a year later. Big Tex was refurbished in 1999 and given his AARP card when he turned 50 three years later.

A group of Dallas civic leaders came up with the idea for a state fair in 1886. After an argument led to two competing fairs, they soon combined operations at what is now Fair Park in East Dallas.

Perhaps, now more than ever, my oft-given moniker of “Senator Corny Dog” is appropriate.

Here is another gem from one of Cornyn’s columns. He may not give a damned about country of origin labeling, but he can tell you a lot about where Blue Bell Ice Cream is made:

A number of flavors are produced seasonally, as fruit or other ingredients become available. At least one popular product—Cantaloupe ‘n Cream—is sold only in Texas, and is available for one single month every year, in July. Another flavor, Cinnamon, is packed in three-gallon containers and sold only to restaurants.

Blue Bell ice cream is now produced in Alabama and Oklahoma as well as at two plants in Brenham, but the quality that has made the product successful originated in Texas. The company’s owners know that premium ingredients and processes are important—and so are the people who make it.

Gosh, Senator Substance! I’m glad you finally unraveled the mystery of Cantaloupe ‘n Cream for me. I was getting distraught looking for it in the freezer case in the middle of December.

While John Cornyn probably cannot tell you what a gallon of Blue Bell Ice Cream costs (or a gallon of milk, or a pound of ground beef, for that matter), he can tell you exactly how much cowboys used to make:

Of course, in reality, life for a 19th century cowboy was hardly glamorous. The work was dirty, and often dangerous. Trail rides were long, and the pay was modest, from $25 to $40 per month for the average hand, up to $125 per month for a trail boss.

Newly-settled parts of the U.S. wanted to join the cattle industry, so trail drives went all over the West. Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry chronicles an epic journey from South Texas to the new territory of Montana. One significant route, the Goodnight-Loving Trail, started in Fort Concho and ended in Pueblo, Colorado.

All that’s missing here is John Ashcroft singing “Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys.”

While lacking substance, one cannot say that Cornyn’s columns lack entertainment value. Check out this dime novel prose:

Every fall, as the first cold-air ‘norther swings into Texas, millions of part-time Texas residents ride the cold front south toward Mexico. We will all look forward to their return next spring.

Any guess as to what Cornyn is writing about? If you guessed the Mexican Freeail Bat, you’re smarter than a fifth grader:

Female bats often settle in big maternity sites, such as the Bracken Cave north of San Antonio, now owned by Austin-based Bat Conservation International. It’s the largest bat colony—and arguably the largest gathering of mammals—in the world. Each female typically produces a single pup in mid-June. The newcomers are flying by August, and by late October, most of the 20 million bats are heading south for the winter.

Ah, the mating habits of the Tadarida brasiliensis. It just makes you all warm and tingly inside. I’m quite sure this comes up in casual conversation on the Senate Floor often.

SENATOR CRAIG: Senator Cornyn, do you think I could have your support on this new bill I have?

SENATOR CORNYN: Did you know that female Mexican Freetail Bats oven settle in big maternity sites? Guess they’ve got wide stances, eh Senator? Oh, Larry that was so tacky, but no, I can’t support your bill….

Or, perhaps:

GENERAL PETRAEUS: As a bottom line up front, the military objectives of the surge are, in large measure, being met. In recent months, in the face of tough enemies and the brutal summer heat of Iraq, Coalition and Iraqi Security Forces have achieved progress in the security arena…..

SENATOR CORNYN: General, if I may interrupt you. First off, that MoveOn ad was really tacky. Second, do you think that there is any possibility we could find some of the caves insurgents are hiding in there in Iraq and possibly relocate colonies of Mexican Freetail Bats to those areas? I think that might help the situation over there, and our Texas bats have really big families, and you know, since we don’t don’t believe in environmental protection at all in Texas, I think it’d be easier to load up a couple of C-130s with tranquillize bats and just ship them over there.

You get the idea.

Bats aren’t the only animal Cornyn has rambled on about. He seems particularly fond of the Texas Horned Lizard which, as you know, is key to our national security, education, and, healthcare agenda:

When pioneer settlers from the south and east first reached central Texas, they found a particularly appropriate creature already occupying the area. The prehistoric-looking reptile, now known as the Texas Horned Lizard, seemed to reflect the land itself—rugged, fearsome, spiny, tough—and wondrously friendly, all at the same time.

[...]

Among non-fiction Texas Horned Lizards, “Old Rip” is the most famous. It’s an article of faith in Eastland County (between Abilene and Fort Worth) that Old Rip hibernated for 31 years while trapped in the cornerstone of the county courthouse. As the story tells it, he slowly revived when he was freed in 1928, and lived another happy year as a celebrity. Old Rip can still be viewed in a locked case in the Eastland courthouse.

And, what portfolio of such substance would be complete without an eulogy for someone who died…more than 150 years ago:

One such forgotten giant was a Texas Ranger who earned the unforgettable nickname of “Rip.”John Salmon Ford first served with the Rangers during the Mexican War in 1847. One of Ford’s duties was recording the death of Americans killed in the war. After each name in the ledger, as a sign of respect, he wrote “Rest in Peace.”As the number of death notices increased, he eventually shortened the phrase to “RIP,”and a nickname was born.

Seriously: was Cornyn high when he wrote those columns? It’s difficult to come up with a reason that our state’s Junior Senator, Senator Substance if you will, would talk about ice cream and bats when there are–you know–real national issues facing Texas.

There is one other explanation, however, for his failure to address anything of substance in his columns: he knows he can’t. Why? Because Cornyn has only a 36 percent approval rating. If he were to write about something of any real substance, the vast majority of Texas’ citizens would disagree so violently with what he has to say, newspapers would stop running his garbage and Cornyn would be left without that vital free publicity he needs to for voters to remember that he exists.

Even so, his feel-good columns aren’t helping much. One might think that the state was actually repulsed by Blue Bell Ice Cream as low as his approval ratings are. It’s probably a good thing Blue Bell isn’t a publicly traded company, or the mere mention of their name by Cornyn would probably result in a huge dip in their stock price, given the fact that so many Texans disapprove of the job he’s doing in Washington.

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