Branson Missouri's New Leadership - The Sisterhood with commentary by Mark Twain

Branson's new crop of leaders reigns today. An ugly head emerged this campaign and learning to deal with women politicos presents a new challenge. I'm personally ashamed at what I watched slide.

For instance, if Jack Purvis, Marc Williams or Rick Davis cried when I called them, "A politician" a lengthy diatribe with full details of tear count, shades of saline color and relative tear saltiness would have graced the pages of this site. But when Alderwoman Cris Bohinc told me she was going to "look up in the dictionary" what a politician was, prior to taking corporate lobbyist money, I gave a pass.

For days I was crushed, my father taught me not to make women cry. But growing up in a family of strong women - who would shed tears on command to illicit a beating - I should have known better.

When Cris Bohinc issued a slanderous, deceitful and libelous attack to business contacts of mine in order to get out of a debate - I deleted the e-mail and gave her another pass. Again, if Purvis, Williams or Davis wrote such filth - no such pass would have been issued. We would have met at the courthouse for reimbursement for damages.

When Bohinc cried to the Taney County Democratic leadership to stop the recording of the debate - we deleted the video (at least we didn't post it) - after dancing around the topic - it was stated that she'd be willing to raise local taxes to initiate housing projects.

But instead of understanding the application of mercy - the campaign got nastier. We rescinded and I believe I owe my readers an apology for it.

It was irresponsible not to publish the facts of the campaign trail - to give a break where none was deserved. To practice chivalry was in error as it wasn't applied to the public that depends on our news service.

Truth be known, I worked vigorously to stay out of campaign coverage but few stepped up to the task - begged the Branson Daily News to host a debate in addition to friends at local television networks.

During testimony to congress during the Equal Rights Amendment (ERA) debate, it was argued that Women were genetically superior to men. The premise was based on the fact women live longer, are less likely to have heart attacks and while our primitive male ancestors hunted for the tribe, women managed animal husbandry and mastered agriculture.

I believe Cris Bohinc, could be a great leader, and demonstrated vindictiveness, manipulation through tears and compromises of honor were attributes she was willing to utilize in her quest for power.

Mayor Raeanne Presley and Alderwoman Sandra Williams proved they weren't above digging in the dirt and willing to misguide citizens to squash resistance and debate at city hall - if ever there was a perversion of public message it is this - that these individuals crusade to promote open government and obey the spirit of Missouri's Sunshine Law.

So woman Politicos, this is my message - keep your big girl panties on - we're no longer applying affirmative action to our political coverage - women can politik as well as men - maybe better.

I hope to recap the history of this campaign season, new tips, tricks and observations. But, since a form of theocratic-democracy is forming in Branson I though I'd begin with Mark Twain and the inside story of Genesis - "The Diary of Adam and Eve". The text published below is Samuel Clemens version of Adam after losing his rib to form Eve.

MONDAY.--This new creature with the long hair is a good deal in the way. It is always hanging around and following me about. I don't like this; I am not used to company. I wish it would stay with the other animals. . . . Cloudy today, wind in the east; think we shall have rain. . . . WE? Where did I get that word-- the new creature uses it.

TUESDAY.--Been examining the great waterfall. It is the finest thing on the estate, I think. The new creature calls it Niagara Falls-- why, I am sure I do not know. Says it LOOKS like Niagara Falls. That is not a reason, it is mere waywardness and imbecility. I get no chance to name anything myself. The new creature names everything that comes along, before I can get in a protest. And always that same pretext is offered--it LOOKS like the thing. There is a dodo, for instance. Says the moment one looks at it one sees at a glance that it "looks like a dodo." It will have to keep that name, no doubt. It wearies me to fret about it, and it does no good, anyway. Dodo! It looks no more like a dodo than I do.

WEDNESDAY.--Built me a shelter against the rain, but could not have it to myself in peace. The new creature intruded. When I tried to put it out it shed water out of the holes it looks with, and wiped it away with the back of its paws, and made a noise such as some of the other animals make when they are in distress. I wish it would not talk; it is always talking. That sounds like a cheap fling at the poor creature, a slur; but I do not mean it so. I have never heard the human voice before, and any new and strange sound intruding itself here upon the solemn hush of these dreaming solitudes offends my ear and seems a false note. And this new sound is so close to me; it is right at my shoulder, right at my ear, first on one side and then on the other, and I am used only to sounds that are more or less distant from me.

FRIDAY. The naming goes recklessly on, in spite of anything I can do. I had a very good name for the estate, and it was musical and pretty-- GARDEN OF EDEN. Privately, I continue to call it that, but not any longer publicly. The new creature says it is all woods and rocks and scenery, and therefore has no resemblance to a garden. Says it LOOKS like a park, and does not look like anything BUT a park. Consequently, without consulting me, it has been new-named NIAGARA FALLS PARK. This is sufficiently high-handed, it seems to me. And already there is a sign up:


My life is not as happy as it was.