Let me paint a picture.
It’s a regular local Democratic meeting—neighbors gathering, committed to community, equity, and making our corner of the world a little bit better. The kind of grassroots politics that actually matter. Then someone asks to speak. Not uncommon. People get the benefit of the doubt, right? Democracy thrives on participation. And why would someone want to speak where their values are at odds with the audience?
But this guy—he gets his stage having name-dropped someone previously connected to the Democrats – granting him an implied endorsement. Says he’s running for local office. Wants a few minutes of our time.
Only, he’s not a Democrat.
He’s a Republican. And not just any kind of Republican. He came under false pretenses, using an endorsement like a stolen key to sneak through the front door. No transparency. No honesty. Just a little performance to sell a story.
Why?
Because he thought he wouldn’t be welcome if he led with the truth.
That alone should tell you everything.
Let’s be real. This wasn’t a case of someone showing up in good faith to reach across the aisle. This was manipulation, plain and simple—a calculated move to exploit the open, trusting nature of local political spaces in order to boost his own campaign. And it wasn’t subtle. It was deliberate. It was dishonest. And it was emblematic of a broader issue we keep running into with today’s GOP.
Because this is the playbook now.
Say whatever you need to say to get in the room. Pretend to share values you don’t. Use names and history and communities you don’t belong to. Borrow someone else’s credibility to hide your own lack of it.
Then pivot the moment you’re in.
It’s more than just political theater. It’s moral bankruptcy.
This moment—small as it may seem in the grand scheme—is a snapshot of what we’ve watched play out on the national stage for nearly a decade. Since Trump descended that golden escalator, the GOP has mutated into something transactional, cynical, and fundamentally unmoored from truth. Lying isn’t an accident anymore. It’s a tactic.
They lie about elections. They lie about their opponents. They lie about their past. They lie about their intentions. And they lie about who they are—because they know if they were honest about it, most people wouldn’t buy what they’re selling.
That’s not strategy. That’s cowardice.
And let’s not kid ourselves: this guy knew exactly what he was doing. He came to that meeting in sheep’s clothing, hoping no one would look too closely at the seams. Hoping that name-dropping would buy him just enough goodwill to get his pitch in before we realized what was happening.
He didn’t respect the space. He didn’t respect the people in it. He didn’t respect the process. And more importantly, he didn’t even respect himself enough to be honest.
That’s what should worry us.
Because character matters. Especially in local politics. Especially when people are choosing leaders who will shape their schools, their roads, their zoning, their access to justice. We can disagree on policy. Hell, we should—that’s how democracy works. But if we can’t agree on basic decency, on showing up as who we are, then what’s left?
A person who lies just to *get in the room* will lie about anything.
And if this is how you run your campaign—on borrowed trust and manipulated access—how are you going to govern?
This guy may be a footnote in the larger mess, but he’s not an outlier. He’s a symptom of the same rot that brought us fake electors, insurrectionists, and a leader who couldn’t tell the truth if it was tattooed on his hand. The same mindset that values winning over integrity. Power over principle. Image over substance.
So no, we’re not overreacting. We’re just done pretending this kind of thing is normal.
You don’t get to lie your way into our meetings, wear our values like a costume, and then expect us to clap politely. You want to speak to a Democratic room? Fine. But show up in truth. Announce who you really are. Make your case honestly.
Otherwise, don’t bother knocking.
We’re not playing host to frauds.
