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David McElroy

making sense of a dysfunctional culture

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‘Self government’ means you govern yourself, not obey your neighbors

By David McElroy · April 26, 2012

How did so many people ever fall for the fiction that “self government” means being governed by the majority of one’s neighbors? Being governed by some powerful elite is bad, but being governed by the “non-powerful masses” is just another brand of poison. Self-governance means just that — governing yourself.

Of all the national myths in this country, perhaps none is as nonsensical as the notion that there is a collective “genius of the American people” insofar as governance goes. It’s a myth that’s discussed in almost religious tones — and it leaves otherwise intelligent people acting in foolish ways to try to bring about things that aren’t possible.

I started thinking about this Wednesday because of a Cato Institute policy forum I listened to called “Citizens v. the Ruling Elite.” (You can watch the video of the forum at the end of this article. Or click here to subscribe to Cato’s audio podcasts via iTunes. Many of them are excellent.) The theme of the discussion was finding ways to elect people to Congress who would “represent the people” instead of elites.

One of the speakers was a co-founder of one of the Tea Party groups. Another speaker was with an organization working to get more people to run in party primaries to challenge incumbents. (On the pragmatic side, the group working for more primary challenges is just plain wrong to believe that this is a good way to defeat incumbents, but that’s a different story entirely.) The overall theme for all the presentations is that the people in office now represent “the elites,” but that if the right candidates would just run, “the people” would suddenly be represented and everything would change.

Since these people believe this, I wonder what other fairy tales they believe.

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To the mindless bureaucrats at TSA, a crying 4-year-old is a terror suspect

By David McElroy · April 25, 2012

We’ve all seen something like this in an airport or somewhere else in public. An excited child sees a grandmother and impulsively runs over to hug her. It’s sweet and loving and it makes most of us happy.

For the thuggish bureaucrats of the TSA in Wichita, Kansas, though, it was enough to make a soon-to-be-crying 4-year-old girl into a “suspect,” according to a mother who told her daughter’s story in a poignant and scary Facebook post.

Michelle Brademeyer was traveling with her two children — ages 4 and 6 — from Montana to Kansas for a wedding. Brademeyer’s mother (the children’s grandmother) was on the trip. The kids don’t get to see their grandmother that often, because she lives in California. This was their first time to travel together.

As the family was waiting to leave Wichita on the way back home, they went through security. Brademeyer and the children went through the scanners without problem, but something on the older woman was triggering the scanner, so she was told to sit to the side to wait for a pat-down search.

As the grandmother sat alone, Brademeyer’s 4-year-old daughter saw her sitting and ran over to give her a hug. (That’s her in the blue dress above.) It wasn’t more than a few seconds, but a TSA agent started screaming at the child. Agents wouldn’t allow the girl’s mother to come get her, because they said she must go through a pat-down now, too. They implied that the grandmother might have passed a gun to the now-crying 4-year-old.

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What would your obit say about you — if you could write it yourself?

By David McElroy · April 24, 2012

Everybody’s read an obituary from time to time. They generally tell who died and what family the person left behind. Despite how unloving and fractious most families are, most death notices refer to “loving” spouses and children. They’re not the most honest accounts of life.

For one man in a suburb of Denver, that wasn’t good enough. When Michael Blanchard died, he wanted something a bit more truthful to leave behind, so he wrote his own death notice, saying, “Weary of reading obituaries noting someone’s courageous battle with death, Mike wanted it known that he died as a result of being stubborn, refusing to follow doctors’ orders and raising hell for more than six decades. He enjoyed booze, guns, cars and younger women until the day he died.”

The death notice — complete with a notation about which relative can “kiss his butt” — has become a viral sensation since it was published in the Denver Post nearly two weeks ago. (A Denver television station even did a story about the obit.) Here’s the complete text:

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Future Photo Display

As part of my effort to rid my life of social media, I will no longer display links to my two Instagram accounts here. Those accounts will be dormant for the time being and will eventually be deleted. I plan to have a method for displaying photos here instead, but the solutions I’ve tested so far have been disappointing. I’m still working on it.

My Instagram

Sunset, Leeds, Alabama — August 27, 2026 Sunset, Leeds, Alabama — August 27, 2026
Sunset, Leeds, Alabama — August 19, 2026 Sunset, Leeds, Alabama — August 19, 2026
When I got home at midnight Monday, I was doing so When I got home at midnight Monday, I was doing some work in the studio and Oliver wanted to join me, so I showed him around to acclimate him to the place again. He rarely goes in there, but I have pictures of him in that studio on the night I brought him home as a kitten. 😺
Earlier this week, I found two photos of Lucy and Earlier this week, I found two photos of Lucy and me that I had never seen. I loved finding the pictures, but seeing these photos left me thinking about the effect it has on us when we lose an animal we love — and it was also a reminder of how much my life has changed for the last nine months it’s been since I lost her. I wrote an essay about this. You can find it as the most recent post at davidmcelroy.org right now if you’re interested. I really do miss this sweet girl.
When I take lightning pictures, I’m always hoping When I take lightning pictures, I’m always hoping to get just one usable photo, but I got two dramatic images tonight. You might recognize the water tower and communication tower that you’ve seen in many of my sunset photos. This is about a mile from my house in Leeds, which is just east of Birmingham.
For those who are in places where it’s miserably h For those who are in places where it’s miserably hot today, here is a minute of light rain and gentle thunder from my back yard late Saturday afternoon. It’s very relaxing to stand at my back door and watch this, especially since the heat is pretty mild today — 80 degrees (about 26 celsius) — for July in the American South.
Alex was willing to cooperate with me for a new po Alex was willing to cooperate with me for a new portrait late Wednesday night. It’s been roughly three and a half years now since the cold night when I was able to lure him out from behind a garbage dumpster into a trap — but I don’t think he’s sorry at this point that he fell for the trick. 😺
This is the face of a man who’s thrilled that the This is the face of a man who’s thrilled that the weekend is finally here. It was a very long (and productive) week, but the time has finally come that I have time to write and read and think. Late Friday night, I’m at the McDonald’s near my house with a Diet Dr Pepper and a MacBook. For me, it’s like Cheers without the booze.
Donald Trump has figured out who to blame for the Donald Trump has figured out who to blame for the the D.C. Reflecting Pool turning green. The dastardly deed was carried out by a specially trained squad of Antifa cats trained by the Far Left. It’s not his fault. Arrest all the cats! #satire #parody
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Late Monday night, Meg has been lying on the bed a Late Monday night, Meg has been lying on the bed and Oliver is at the foot of the bed spying on her. He’s just watching instead of trying to come closer — and she’s watching him in return. They’re just watching, not hissing, right now.
Just before midnight, Meg was relaxing peacefully Just before midnight, Meg was relaxing peacefully in my arms while lying on her back. If you look at the bottoms of her back legs, you can see the remaining traces of the dirt from her feral days. Even though I’ve washed her carefully, the stain is still there for the time being. I think she’s a happy girl to live inside the house — and she hasn’t been with us for quite a week yet.
This three-second clip is the only hissing we’ve h This three-second clip is the only hissing we’ve had today. Oliver just got a bit too curious for Meg’s preference, so when he tried to sniff her, she let him have her full wrath. (This is super short because it’s made from one of the iPhone’s “live photos,” which can be converted to video.)
About two months ago, I saw Meg for the first time About two months ago, I saw Meg for the first time from this office window at the front of our house. She was walking down the street you see here and I posted a picture of her that day. Just before sunset Sunday, she made it into that window for her very first time, but she has no idea that she was sitting in the spot from which I first saw her.
Late Saturday night, Alex and Meg spent a few minu Late Saturday night, Alex and Meg spent a few minutes cautiously eyeing each other from about three or four feet away. This is the closest any of the boys has voluntarily gotten to her and it’s the first time she hasn’t immediately backed off. So this was a major step in the right direction. They stayed like this for about five minutes and then Meg eventually scurried underneath the chair where I was sitting.
It’s hard to believe Meg had been here for only fo It’s hard to believe Meg had been here for only four days, because she constantly wants attention and acts as though she’s always been here. I just got back home and she immediately climbed into my lap and started purring. I think this little girl is happy to be here.
I told a friend last night that Meg had been “maki I told a friend last night that Meg had been “making biscuits,” but she didn’t know the phrase and asked what it meant. So I sent her this picture — before eventually explaining what it really means. 😺
With each passing day, Meg is relaxing more and be With each passing day, Meg is relaxing more and becoming more trusting. Just after midnight Thursday night, she’s relaxing in my arms and purring.
Meg wants to hang out on my chest and purr all eve Meg wants to hang out on my chest and purr all evening. I need to change clothes at some point.
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Briefly

Meet my new girlfriend. Her name is Meg. And she’s my little sweetheart. A couple of months ago, a neighbor across the street told me about a new stray in the neighborhood that she and I were both soon feeding. The cat had been very skittish about contact and she had a lot of scabs and parasites in her fur, but a trip to the vet last week revealed that she was otherwise in good health. The vet estimates her to be 1 to 2 years old. I named her for Meg Murry, the 13-year-old protagonist of Madeleine L’Engle’s wonderful book, “A Wrinkle in Time.” (Please read the book. Don’t watch the horrible movie.) Since we lost Lucy almost a year ago, it seems appropriate that we finally have a new little girl to join the household. She’s already captured my heart, but Alex, Oliver and Sam aren’t there quite yet.

There’s nothing socially acceptable that’s as dangerous as drinking alcohol. Most people grow up being told to “drink responsibly” — and all of us see people abusing this drug in one way or another — but the truth is that drinking alcohol is always a terrible risk. The alcohol in these drinks is toxic and the human liver has to work hard to filter the toxins out. What most people don’t realize is that alcohol is classified as a known carcinogen by the World Health Organization — because of the well-established connection between imbibing and various cancers. Many people have taken refuge behind the idea that light or moderate drinking might be safe, but a new study shows that drinking even one drink a day increases the risks of 10 types of cancer. When I was a teen-ager, I looked around and saw the negative effects that this behavior had on a lot of people and decided not to start drinking, so I’ve never even tried this poison. The evidence keeps piling up that I was lucky to have come to that conclusion early.

It hasn’t happened yet, but there’s a possibility that I might be taking in a fourth feline. A couple of months ago, a cat-loving neighbor asked whether I’d seen a “tuxedo cat” hanging out in the neighborhood. I hadn’t, but this guy eventually wandered past my house a few weeks later — and we haven’t been able to find evidence that he has a home. I’ve been giving him water and food for the last week and he finally let me pet him two nights ago. He’s purred for me two nights in a row and he let me take a low-quality selfie with him Thursday night. Tonight, though, he let me pick him up and bring him inside to look around. This went surprisingly well, as you can see from this photo. I don’t know whether he’ll be joining the family, but I’m certain that Alex, Oliver and Sam would vote no, at least until they get to know him. I’m trying to make certain he doesn’t have a home, but if he does join us, what do you suppose his name will be?

It turns out that the radical far left has been training “Antifa cats” to sabotage anything important to Donald Trump. Everything he did was perfect. Honest. It was all the cats’ fault. Arrest all the cats! This is the latest of my ridiculous satirical shorts. Please go watch it. Then “like” it and subscribe. Please. I’m begging you. (Too much?) Although a couple of the previous videos have had views in the hundreds, most have still been seen by fewer than 20 people. So I seem to be having trouble letting people know that page exists.

Here’s the latest of my ridiculous parody shorts. It crossed my mind Tuesday to wonder what a slick and fast-talking car dealer might do right now to try to turn the high price of gasoline to his advantage. So I conceived of a fat and lovable character who tried to sell cars that don’t use any fuel — and then I started wondering if it would be funnier if all the characters were felines. Designing the King Cashpaw character took about four hours, but the rest took only another four hours, so this was a relatively quick piece that virtually wrote itself. I know it’s almost impossible for these parody videos to find a larger audience, but at least they amuse me — and there are 19 of them on my YouTube page now. The first few were very limited, but they’re getting more complex.

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