The Texas Observer

Harvey Wasserman, a longtime friend of Molly’s, asked us to post this message. We are happy to do so. All readers are welcome to use the comment section of this blog to send in messages.

We Love You Molly

Our beloved sister Molly Ivins is fighting for her life against cancer, and all we can do is try to send her even a fraction of the brillliance, joy and love she has given us for so many incomparable years.
This genuis daughter of Texas turmoil has stood alone for so long as a voice of clarity, wit, common sense and plain-spoken conscience that it’s hard to know even where to start.
Perhaps most important to remember is that she has not been just a writer. From her modest but gracious home in the heart of Austin, she has done anything but sit back and snipe with that unique penetrating wit of hers. She could have done it. She could have just gone to that keyboard every day, blown them all away, and built her national reputation from the sheer genius of an insulated ivory tower.
But Molly has always been a firm believer in hands-on non-violent combat, which in hands like hers is the ultimate weapon. She puts her heart and soul where her convictions are. She’s fought tooth and nail for The Texas Observer and whatever other worthwhile publications there are that can muster an audience in the Lone Star State. She’s worked with the great Jim Hightower in his climb to elected office. She supports candidates. She goes out of her way. She works hard. She makes her presence felt wherever she thinks it’ll do some good, no matter what the personal cost.
All the while being our very premier writer/humorist. If Mark Twain has a female counterpart on today’s political and journalistic scene, it is Molly Ivins. She has that miraculous ability to slice and dice an entire raft of political horse-dung with a single simple sentence, laced with wry, seeded with sweetness, and so often utterly cleansing and clarifying.
We can all be thankful that our lucky stars have placed her—where else but—in Austin. Throughout the entire horrific nightmare of George W. Bush, whom she has somehow known personally for decades, it has been Molly and only Molly who’s been on the spot to say exactly what needs to be said in exactly the right Texas tone with precisely the right down home balance of horror, outrage and utterly human wit. Nobody else could be doing it as she does, from the inside out, from the high ground lifting up the low. Could we ever INVENT anyone better suited, with a sharper wit and better sense of the jugular?
Except with Molly, it’s the spiritual center that’s the bullseye. With that wry, beautiful smile of hers and that insanely musical Texas twang, she never fails to aim for higher ground. When her eyes roll at the latest unbelievable insanity from this ghastly crew, she still manages to twinkle with that huge, heavenly light that’s only Molly’s.
In her personal life Molly has always been every bit as gracious as you can tell she is from her writing. Last time she carted me around Austin, it was in her obligatory pickup. The thing seemed a bit naked without a gun rack. But Molly behind the wheel was armed aplenty, always willing to drive the few extra blocks, even if you are willing to walk. Her southern grace just won’t think of it, no matter how many better things she has to do. And we know there are plenty.
To hear her speak is to be dazzled by the music of a true national treasure. To see her heart is to be warmed by a truly magnificent woman who embodies all this country can and should be. That she has been on the job for so long, with such persistence and valor, is something for which we can all be joyously thankful.
Molly, we are with you, and we need you, and we love you, as we have needed you and loved you now for so many years now. Get well soon!

In Molly’s honor, some of us are sending contributions to the Molly Ivins Fund for Investigative Reporting at the Texas Observer; 307 West Seventh Street; Austin, TX 78701

If any doubt remained that Tom Craddick was about to survive an unprecedented challenge to his House speakership, it was formally vanquished at 5:57 p.m. In the legislative equivalent of tipping over one’s king to surrender a chess game lost, Democratic Rep. Jim Dunnam moved that the speaker’s election be an open record vote, with each member’s preference instantly flashed in red or green on the House tote boards.
The motion, approved without objection, effectively undid hours of tedious debate on voting procedures crafted in an effort to let members — especially fellow Republicans — oppose Craddick without fearing political payback.

And immediately thereafter, the fear of revenge coursing through the chamber was measured in the final tally. Rep. Jim Pitts, Craddick’s GOP challenger, had already withdrawn rather than ask supporters to fall on their swords. Craddick was re-elected 121-27 in a race that early this morning was too close to call.

Craddick’s opponents failed to kill the king, and three questions loomed over weary House members on adjournment:
Which members abandoned the insurgency? What were members promised for their votes? And what revenge, if any, will Craddick unleash on those who worked to oust him, most notably when he hands out committee assignments in the coming weeks?

By nature, drama in the Texas House plays out in excruciatingly small increments — a procedural vote here, a point of order there — as competitors vie to precisely shape the final vote.

Tuesday’s House session proved nothing if not excruciating for those who hoped to topple the leadership.
According to Pitts, the Waxahachie Republican, his race fell apart sometime around 10:30 in the morning when a deal with a number of Craddick Republicans fell through. So why were members and their families subjected to seven hours of choreographed tedium?

“We didn’t know the deal was truly dead until the vote,” said Pitts.

The deciding moment was a vote on whether the election for speaker would be a secret ballot. The likely winner of a secret ballot would have been Jim Pitts. In that vote, members had to show publicly whom they supported. Craddick’s side won 80 to 68, and at that point it was only a matter of time before Pitts conceded.
Craddick couldn’t have done it without the support of 11 Democrats.

After his swearing in, Craddick went out of his way to thank three of them — Aaron Pena, Patrick Rose, and Sylvester Turner — for seconding his nomination.

“I am greatly honored and humbled by your vote today,” Craddick said.

Time will tell.

There’s a fine line between courage and stupidity. Which side newly minted state Sen. Dan Patrick found himself on Tuesday is in the eye of the beholder.

The Houston radio talk show host campaigned on a promise to fight the Senate’s 2/3rds rule — the traditional requirement that 21 senators agree to allow a bill to reach the floor.

Patrick kept his promise just hours after being sworn in. The sight of a freshman rising to speak on his first day is rare enough, let alone to buck his 30 colleagues.

In an impassioned speech, Patrick invoked Ronald Reagan, JFK, Madison, Monroe, and the grandchildren of Texas to argue that the Senate should function on simple majority votes. As rhetoric goes, it was not a shabby maiden effort.

To which three more senior senators — Kyle Janek, Eddie Lucio and Royce West — politely encouraged Patrick to give them a bit more credit for their commitment to conducting the people’s business.

“Hopefully you will see what I saw as a freshman, that my way is not the only way,” West chided.

Patrick’s notion went down on a 30-1 vote, and the Senate promptly adjourned for the day.

“Some of the best battles, the most important battles, are the ones you fight by yourself,” Patrick said after the vote. “It was a good day. All the butterflies are gone.”

After a hit like that, only the cockroaches survive. Senator Patrick, welcome to the NFL.