Ted Cruz

BA, Princeton University img JD, Harvard University

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As solicitor general of Texas, Ted Cruz defended the state’s ban* on the sale of sex toys, or, as he called them, “obscene devices.” The government, according to his brief to the US Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals, should have “police powers” to discourage “prurient interest in sexual gratification”; the use of sex toys, in Cruz’s feverish mind, is like “hiring a willing prostitute or engaging in consensual bigamy.” Lest you believe you have the right to do what you want with yourself in the privacy of your privacy, Cruz will have you know that “there is no substantive-due-process right to stimulate one’s genitals for non-medical purposes unrelated to procreation or outside of an interpersonal relationship.”*

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Thus went his argument as a Texas politician. But where did he stand on the subject when he was a Princeton undergrad? Cruz’s freshman-year roommate, the screenwriter Craig Mazin, enlightens us (in under 140 characters):

Sorry. Please don’t sue us for hurting your brain with the image of cheesy, unwholesome Ted Cruz whacking it in his dorm room, perhaps while fantasizing about a female member of an opposing Ivy League debate squad and… sorry!

Mazin, like pretty much everyone who has ever spent time with Cruz, can’t stand him. Former House Speaker John Boehner called him “Lucifer in the flesh.” “If you killed Ted Cruz on the floor of the Senate,” said GOP senator Lindsay Graham, “and the trial was in the Senate, nobody would convict you.”

But being universally despised does not necessarily make Cruz a monster. What makes him a monster is everything he’s done, said, and thought. To avoid the need for a Cruz-and-nothing-but-Cruz companion volume, here’s an abbreviated greatest-hits reel from his presidential campaign:

• Regarding ISIS, he said, “We will carpet-bomb them into oblivion. I don’t know if sand can glow in the dark, but we’re going to find out!” This, according to military experts, would mean killing everyone in a geographical area, including babies, mommies, and pets. The glowing sand part appears to mean Cruz thinks we should use nuclear weapons for our Middle Eastern carpet-bombing, in which case he’s truly out of his fucking mind.

• He claimed to regret not having served in the military because, like all chicken hawks, he respects it immensely.

• He criticized Donald “I will build a wall!” Trump for being soft on immigration.

He opposed abortion even in cases of rape or incest.

• He said he wants to return to the gold standard, which, as any actual economist knows, would melt the global economy.

• He cited as one of his signal accomplishments as the state’s solicitor general his defense of the right of Texas to display a monument to the Ten Commandments.

• He endlessly repeated the line that he wants to abolish the IRS in favor of a simple flat tax that will allow Americans to file their taxes “on a postcard.”*

• He enlisted conspiracy theorist Frank Gaffney, Jr., to advise him during his presidential run.

• He argued for a constitutional amendment allowing states to avoid recognizing same-sex marriages.

• He insisted that the minimum wage hurts poor people.

• He thought it witty to ridicule Trump’s tepid support of the right of transgender people to use the bathroom of their choice with the line “Even if Donald Trump dresses up as Hillary Clinton, he still can’t go to the girls’ bathroom.”

Despite the universally agreed upon signals that Cruz is intelligent—Princeton! Harvard!—there is a simple way to tell that he is not nearly as smart as he, or anyone else, thinks he is. As William Gaddis observed in his novel Carpenter’s Gothic: “It’s the smugness that’s stupidity’s telltale.” Cruz’s smugness is plastered across his face. It’s always there, at least when he’s in front of an audience. (His wife can tell us whether he’s got that hideous “I know everything” expression on his face when he… sorry! IGNORE! IGNORE!) What’s so bad about being smug? Aside from making you look like Ted Cruz, it’s an indicator that you are not interested in taking in any new information;* that you feel you know everything you need to know and have seen everything you need to see; that you have all the answers.

Which is pretty much the mandatory stance of a religious fundamentalist.

And that’s fine if you’re, say, a Dunkin’ Donuts manager feeling smugly superior to the nine hell-bound flunkies you boss around. But if you’re the kind of person who is absolutely certain that your truth is the only truth, then—sorry, Felito*—you’re not the kind of person who should be in a position of actual power. At least not in the United States of America.

Dear reader, do tell us if you know of a fundamentalist dictatorship that Ted Cruz would like and—this is the hard part—where the citizens would like him. We’ll be happy to crowdsource the funding to buy him a one-way ticket.