The Other Velvet Rope

Appeared in the Glens Falls Post-Star on July 23, 2026:

The Other Velvet Rope

I simply cannot financially afford to be in politics.

A year ago I accepted the role of Democratic Committee chairperson for the Fort Edward Democrats. Retiring early from academia, I thought it would be a good way to dig deeper into the world of politics in a region where my party was struggling. I wanted… I want… to make a difference. And I’m all in. But the cost is exorbitant.

In an election year, events in support of our local candidates are held regularly. And as Democrats in Washington County, we are outnumbered and underfunded; every dollar has to work harder here than it does downstate. So when our candidates present meet-and-greets with donation tiers, I understand the reasoning. Fundraising is how a campaign survives in a district where the other side is already loaded or self-funding to the tune of millions. At first, I jumped in and gladly paid the price of admission. I got to know our local candidates, maybe even befriended one or two. But now that we’re closer to Election Day, the prices are rising, and the tiers are stacking.

I’m okay. My family is fine, although within our house, my wife and I have some serious concerns about our and our country's financial future… especially in regards to healthcare. But I now feel priced out of the very events I wholeheartedly want to support. I deeply care about this region and I adore our candidates; however, the velvet rope has fallen, and like an unfashionably dressed patron, I am standing on the wrong side.

Here’s what troubles me most: I’m not describing a personal budgeting failure. I’m describing the going rate of admission to democracy in a district where Democratic policies will improve people's lives. The messaging is mixed and, for me, this is a moral issue.

Grassroots politics is supposed to run on community grit, not entry fees. When the local committee chair, the person supposedly closest to the ground, has to think twice about a "cheap" ticket that would cost more than a week's grocery bill, what does that say about who actually gets a seat at the table? It says the table was never built for us in the first place.

This isn’t a complaint about any one candidate or campaign. Campaigns need money to compete, and I don’t begrudge anyone the tiers; I understand the math. But I think we, as a party, need to reckon honestly with what we’re asking of the volunteers who hold this whole thing together between elections: the local committees; the petitioners braving the elements as they go door to door; the people who show up to stuff envelopes, make phone calls, write texts, and bake cookies because they believe in something. We ask for their labor for free and then price them out of the room where the actual relationship-building happens.

There’s a version of Democratic politics that still believes in this: that a retired teacher in Fort Edward and a dairy farmer in Lisbon are on the same side of the rope, not opposite sides of it. Place over party. Neighbor over net worth.

I don’t have a tidy policy fix to offer here, only a plea to the people running these campaigns, at every level, from town committee to Congress: find a way to let the people who can’t pay still get in the room. We are the ones who will be here in January doing the unglamorous work of keeping these towns and villages organized long after the donor events are a memory.

I still believe in this work with all my heart and I will fight with every ounce of my being to get our candidates elected. I just wish it didn’t cost so much money to prove it.

Brian P. Katz is a retired college professor and current Chair of the Fort Edward Democratic Committee.

https://poststar.com/opinion/editorial/article_d546770a-cc6a-43af-94f1-3c4de61e56ac.html

Paramount, No Longer "Number One"

 Gene Roddenberry would be losing his shit.

I should have done this sooner... but I am boycotting all things Ellison, Paramount, and CBS.

I am, to my core, a Trekker (sorry, not "Trekkie," -- we can argue later). Star Trek: The Original Series was an anchor in my youth. When The Next Generation (TNG) arrived, I was ALL in. Deep Space Nine? Brilliant. Voyager? There are times when I'm actually convinced it's masterful. From the films to the comic books and novels, I was all things Trek. I've used TNG episodes ("The Inner Light"!) in my college courses. Heck, our daughter is equally as devoted to Trek! Having the entire (multi-)universe available on Paramount+ has been a dream.

So, it is with genuine sadness that I cancel my subscription. After watching the Scott Pelley interview this morning via The NY Times (https://www.nytimes.com/2026/06/07/magazine/scott-pelley-interview.html?smid=url-share), I can no longer support a company so morally bankrupt (surprise, surprise, right?) that it has betrayed not just its subscribers but the very humanist values Star Trek was built upon... and shaped me.

Thankfully, I still my VHS tapes and a working VCR.

Representing the North Country

The idea that the North Country can send a dairy farmer to Congress is a meaningful statement from this large, rural corner of New York State. The idea that this dairy farmer is Blake Gendebien makes it even more impactful.

Blake’s formal political credentials are limited. His community engagement and leadership are not. But I want to set aside the résumé and talk about what I’ve noticed since first meeting Blake at last year’s Washington County Fair because what I’ve observed in his manner tells me everything I need to know.

Blake is all in. Remarkably so. Whether at a county fair, a meet-and-greet,or a town hall, he leans into the room with a courage that’s eager to express itself. You can see the earnestness pour from him – the furrow of his brow, the light in his eyes, and his sincere manner (often tinged with a bit of humor to soften the weight of his feelings… which are large). He means what he says. He believes in this upstate world of ours and the goodness of its people. He’s stripped of the performative nature of politicians… and it’s endearing.

And it should be noted, the guy is funny. I’ve huddled with him and his team… and he’s quick to disarm an intense moment with a witty aside. “Witty” being the key word here. It’s this wittiness that marks his intelligence.

Then there are his greatest credentials… ones that mean more to him than any title, position, or, dare I suggest, party affiliation. There is a rooted element to his identity as a New York State farmer that is above and beyond politics. And what are these other credentials? His family and his farm.

Blake’s wife Carmen is his not-so-secret weapon. Raised in New York City, like me, she brings a savviness that expands her husband’s ability to connect not only with rural voters but with the people of our villages and small cities. Whenever I’ve been in a room with both of them, I notice Blake always looking to her, for her… and there she is, bright in mind and spirit. They, with their three boys, are a family team in the truest sense.

Then there is the farm itself, a significant operation in a sometimes unforgiving part of the world: Early mornings, hard choices, razor-thin margins, and an unshakeable commitment to the land and the animals in his care. If anyone knows what we are feeling in this whiplash economy, it’s him.

This is who Blake Gendebien is at his core… a farmer, a father, a husband. And in my considered opinion, the most qualified person to represent New York’s 21st Congressional District.

He’s real. In a political moment defined by empty performances, vitriol, and hollow spectacle, his realness is everything to me.

Conspiracy Theory?

I've been trying to figure out "Why?": 

Trump and his MAGA minions are "hoping" (more accurately, "fixing") to prove, through the Fulton County, Georgia files, that he "won" the 2020 election. Based on this "scam," he will claim that he is currently (or should be) serving his "third" term; therefore, as a form of legal loophole, he and his bootlickers are hoping to void the 22nd Amendment so that he can run again and remain president. [I don't think this is in any way legally viable... but stranger shit has been happening and Trump and his handlers have all the pieces in place.]

Directed by Shorty Yeaworth

Trump is an invasive species. 

Obviously, he severely impacts my waking days... but he also influences my sleep where I have regular nightmares/anxiety dreams about or featuring him. They're too absurdist or boring to normally recount... but last night's was symbolic: I was trapped in a shopping mall desperately trying to escape when a militaristic security detail aggressively pushed me into Sharper Image. There he sat in a gaudy wheelchair and all he asked was, "Am I the best president ever?"

Threatened by his goons, I panickingly searched for a safe response: "Maybe, if you could find a way to be more compassionate and kind, you might be considered a 'consequential' president. I don't know." But the word "kind" had a a physical affect on him and he started to turn into a gelatinous pile. So, I kept at it, pleading with him to find any ounce of humanity... and he continued to turn into a spineless heap until he slid off his wheelchair -- a slithering mass of goo.

As he seeped over my feet, I was unable to move... and as the Blob started to envelop me, I awoke in a sweat.

He's a monster, a B-movie monster.

I'm in a Mood (Reflected in Three Parts)

One

Many are calling for Noem's impeachment or firing... but that's hardly going to solve anything. That sleezy hellspawn reject, Stephen Miller, is still pouring poisoned worms in President Teflon Dumb's ear; VP Maybeline is still vomiting the stupidest, most racist idiocy from his puffy maw; Press Secretary Green Apple Kool-Aid is still breathlessly spitting viral infections on the press pool; Speaker Howdy Doody Bag continues to flop like the subservient, excrement-stained incompetent he is; and all the other nasty arse-slurpers infecting the White House are still humping the constitution like orgiastic, wild dogs. Nixing Noem is not nearly enough.

Two

Stephen Miller may be the most intentionally sinister human alive (even in this vile Administration of Horrors). Trump's Deputy Chief and advisor is a pestilent, resentful, pathetic skunk rectum with the emotional complexity of an obscenely used diaper, the verbal cadence and attention span of a diseased squirrel on a mix of quaaludes and meth, and the dead, dead eyes of a decaying opossum. Oh, how I wish Hell were a real place so that insidiously willful monsters like Miller (and associates) would burn eternally in a flaming pit of perpetual despair.

[With sincere apologies to the animals in the description.]

Three

Alex Pretti was set upon for using his cell phone camera as a witness... and based on the several cell phone witnesses trained on Pretti and the I.C.E. clan of hyenas that preyed upon him, there is no doubting what's going on: A war is being waged on reality by that giant scum-seeping orange heap of slug excrement and his plastic minions of slobbering, sycophantic fascists.

Witness. 

Witness the lies of Trump, Noem, Bovino, Miller, Vance, Johnson, and Leavitt.

Witness the truth of Minneapolis. 

Witness the savage murder of Alex Pretti by the liars. 

Witness.