Democrats are rhapsodizing about the fact that the compellingly manly Sen. Cory Booker (D-NJ) spoke for 25 hours without a bathroom break. This manufactured drama tells us a lot about the dismal, theatrical, and ultimately empty state of the Democrat party.
A few years ago, during the Brett Kavanaugh hearings, the fiercely masculine Booker called for the release of classified emails about Kavanaugh, a stance that entailed no risk to himself because his political base supported him and there would be no consequences. Nevertheless, Booker was so impressed with his “courage” that he claimed he was having an “I am Spartacus” moment, a reference to the classic 1960 movie.
In other words, it was not a Spartacus moment at all. Booker was roundly and soundly ridiculed for being such a drama queen.
But the one thing you can say about the incredibly heterosexual Booker is that, when it comes to casting himself in old Hollywood movies, he doesn’t give up. So it was that, on Tuesday night, Booker decided to emulate—indeed, beat—fellow Democrat Strom Thurmond by speaking for more than 24 hours. And Booker, like many women before him,* did manage to speak for more than 24 hours. In fact, he clocked in at 25 hours and 5 minutes, breaking Thurmond’s record by 47 minutes. So brave.
According to Booker himself, the physical trauma was intense. He began fasting several days before the event so he wouldn’t need to...er, how do I say this politely? So he wouldn’t need to poop. In addition, the day before, he stopped drinking fluids so that he could avoid the inevitable Biden/Depends comparisons. And he suffered for his passion. According to Booker, he got cramps. So brave.
But Booker wasn’t the only one impressed. Another person who was impressed was CSen. Chris Murphy (CT-D). According to him, what Booker did was a “pretty stunning biological feat”:
VIDEO - Sen. Murphy: ‘Pretty Stunning Biological Feat Being Pulled Off By Cory Booker on the Floor of the Senate Right Now’https://t.co/PJbYK3u3gV
— Grabien (@GrabienMedia) April 1, 2025
This is where my personal story—or rather, my mother’s personal story—comes in and leaves me not only unimpressed but actually disgusted with these histrionics.
In 1941, my mother, 17 years old, and her 13-year-old sister were living in what’s now Indonesia, but what was then Batavia, a part of the Dutch East Indies. After attacking Pearl Harbor, the Japanese successfully invaded the entire Malayan peninsula, bringing under their control the Philippines (an American colony), Malaya and Singapore (British colonies), and the independent nation of Thailand (Bridge on the River Kwai territory, to cite another famous movie).
My mother and her sister, along with thousands of other European civilians, spent the war in concentration camps, a situation that ended only when Truman dropped the atomic bomb. By doing so, he ended the war quickly, rather than dragging it out for another year, which was the best estimate if the Americans had to invade the Japanese mainland.
(For more on the virtuous nature of this decision, I highly recommend Princeton Historian Paul Fussell’s 1981 essay, “Thank God for the Atom Bomb.” The reality is that the Japanese would have died fighting down to the last man, woman, and child if there’d been a mainland invasion, such was the power of the Bushido cult, even though they would ultimately have lost. In the meantime, hundreds of thousands of troops and prisoners of war would have died, too, my mom and aunt included.)
What’s forgotten about the Bushido-era Japanese is that they often eclipsed the Nazis in cruelty, although that’s hard to believe. The torture they inflicted on prisoners was staggering (a practice they began when they invaded China and Korea), and they were saved from comparisons to the Nazis only because they didn’t do it on an industrialized scale, complete with the attempted genocide of an entire race of people.
My mom and aunt were interned in a couple of camps, one of which was called Tjideng. For the last year, it was under the command of Kenichi Sone, who was the only Japanese civilian camp commandant sentenced to death for war crimes. As Wikipedia says, “He organised ‘kumpulans’ or roll calls where women, children and the sick had to stand in the hot tropical sun for hours.” That’s a very sterile way of saying it. Here’s the real story.
By the time Sone took over, all the women and children in the camp were already profoundly weakened by chronic starvation and disease. My mother had tuberculosis, beriberi, and two different types of malaria that had two different fever cycles. She was not unique. They were all like this.
It was this population of women and children that Sone made stand in the sun for “hours,” something that meant not one or two but sometimes as much as 24 hours. The average daytime temperature all year long is about 90 degrees, and the women and children were denied either food or drink. Many of them simply died where they stood.
Those who survived, like my mother and my aunt, accomplished a “pretty stunning biological feat.” The virile Booker, who stood in an air-conditioned, indoor room, well-fed but a little bit hungry and thirsty, should not be celebrated for managing not to wet his pants. That he “cramped” a little does not impress me.
The Democrat party is, ultimately, a brutal party. Its goal is to force election outcomes, allowing it to attain one-party rule and, through that rule, to break the American constitutional republic and replace it with a heavy-handed leftist “paradise.”
In a TV age, Democrats quickly realized that showmanship was one of the ways to advance the cause. The transgender agenda—destroying children, upending reality, undermining America’s Biblical values—was hidden behind the whimsical sparkle of drag queens. George Floyd’s criminal history and drug death were overshadowed by the drama of Democrat politicians kneeling under the Capitol dome, attired in Kente cloth, the fabric of Africa’s biggest enslavers. These dramas have been successful.
With this successful theater in mind, the defiantly macho Booker thought he could capitalize on it (despite his Spartacus fail) to elevate himself to a leadership position in the currently leaderless Democrat party. But for those of us who understand true strength, the display was both stupid and insulting.
*Dear angry feminists: That was a joke.