Richard Crowson Commentary

Politicians can run but they cannot hide from political cartoonist (and banjo player) Richard Crowson and his watchdog, Al. Tune in on alternate Wednesdays to hear the latest.


When the news gets too grim, as it so often does here in Kansas, I seek solace in walks with our Airedale, Lucy.

Kick Out Common Core And Teach ‘Em Butter Churnin’!

Feb 24, 2016
Ali Eminor, flickr Creative Commons

School superintendent John Allison says he wonders what we can teach kids that wouldn’t possibly be aligned with the Common Core standards, and says perhaps butter churning might fill the bill:

I’m a Kansas legislator; I’m a Common Core hater
Teaching critical thinking is what I’m hatin’
Though I don’t know much about it
I’m against it and I’ll shout it
Common Core is a plot straight from Satan

This Valentine's Day I want to send a cartoonist’s hugs and kisses all the way up to Topeka:

 

 

I love you truly, Sam Brownback,
But I also love Secretary of State Kobach,
And I love each person in the Legislative zoo
For you all make cartooning so easy to do

I love the Kansas voters for each election’s results
My job would be much harder if they elected adults
And I love Fox News for how it spreads fear so slyly
I love Hannity and I love Bill O’Reilly


Kansas’ Grand Supreme All-Powerful Prosecutorial and Eternally Diligent Secretary of State Kris Kobach has made a triumphant announcement.


For many years the rap on Kansas was that, yes, it may not be the most exciting place but golly-gee, what a wonderful state to raise a family in!

It’s New Year resolution time but, I suspect a lot of Kansas leadership is simply resolving not to change a single thing…

 

(Tune of Auld Lang Syne)

Should old positions be held to
And never ever changed
When evidence is just ignored
Isn’t that a bit deranged???

 

When evidence is everywhere
For Medicaid expansion now
Our legislators and governor
Cover up their ears and frown

 

Standing out like a darkened bulb amidst a string of bright Christmas lights, holiday grief visits many this time of year. Marketers bombard us with images of togetherness: jubilant party-goers, families sharing holiday meals, hearty toasts and squeals of glee.

The pressure to be sociable and full of joy can make you feel like you’re in an elevator that’s packed with a dozen plump, tipsy Santas, squeezed between their bowls full of jelly as a deafening stream of “Ho ho hos” assaults your ears.

Having a cold during these early days of December is a pretty nostalgic experience for me. It seems like during my childhood I was often sick around the holidays. I contracted most of the 1950s childhood illnesses between my Thanksgivings and Christmases – mumps, chicken pox and measles. They all came down my chimney during the holidays.

    

The lavishness of autumn is a sumptuous feast for the senses. You can feel the heaviness of the air, carrying with it the weight of expectation. It’s damp, it’s cool and it holds the promise of change. The sounds of rustling leaves, the sleepy drone of rainfall and the hissing of wet car tires down dampened streets.

The fragrance of wet earth, the freshly fallen moist leaves and the tree trunks darkened from the rain, releasing their woody scent.

Google maps

Lately I’ve had several friends click their ruby slippers together and move out of Kansas, away from heartless budget slashers, brainless science deniers and cowardly, lying politicians…so why not sing!

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