You May Kiss the Bride

The Democrat Party Wooed the Radicals Into Their Engagement Proposal. They Can’t Run From the Altar Now.

POLITICS: By Walter Curt

There’s a moment in every bad romance when the friends try to whisper, “Don’t do it.” The Democrat Party never listened. They courted the radicals, bought the ring, planned the wedding, and strutted down the aisle with them—convinced they could reform them later. Now the honeymoon’s over, and the Jay Jones scandal is the bill from the caterer.

Jones, their nominee for attorney general in Virginia, didn’t just post a bad take online. He joked about “three people, two bullets,” and sent messages about the Republican House speaker’s children that no civilized man would repeat. It was disgusting, juvenile, and dangerous. But the real story isn’t Jay Jones’s words, it’s the silence that followed. The Democrat establishment didn’t demand his resignation that day.

Not Spanberger, not Hashmi, not the big-name donors, and not the national press corps that would’ve howled for blood if the party label were red instead of blue. They all tried to duck and cover, issue their boilerplate “We condemn this behavior,” and hope the voters would look away.

But this time, they can’t hide.

The vows are on tape. They said “I do” to this brand of politics years ago.

It started when they invited the radical fringe to dinner—the ones who burned cities, shouted down dissenters, and replaced reason with rage.

They told themselves it was temporary, just a little excitement before the election. But once you hand the radicals the keys, they start redecorating the house. Now every Democrat candidate in Virginia is chained to a man who texted like a cartoon villain, and they can’t break the engagement without tearing their own dress.

Even the left-leaning media could smell the rot. Morning Joe said he should step down. When MSNBC turns queasy, you know you’ve crossed the moral event horizon.

Meanwhile, Virginia law makes it almost impossible to replace a candidate this close to Election Day—so even if Jones quits, his name stays on the ballot like a permanent reminder of what happens when you marry madness.

Republicans didn’t even have to cut an ad, the footage already existed. Winsome Earle-Sears stood ready with the easiest attack line in the book: “Spanberger endorsed him.” You can’t claim ignorance when you shared a stage with the man. You can’t claim moral clarity when you only find your outrage after the polls tighten.

This is what happens when a party treats ethics like a costume—easy to put on, easier to shed. But beneath the scandal lies something deeper: a total loss of fear. The radicals don’t fear their leaders anymore. They don’t fear the consequences.

They are the consequences.

They’ve realized that as long as they keep the base angry and the donations flowing, the party brass will let anything slide. They are no longer guests at the table—they’re running the reception.

The Democrats can’t file for divorce now, not without admitting that they married for power. They can’t plead innocence, because the photos from the engagement party are everywhere—the riots they excused, the censorship they cheered, the threats they overlooked.

Every time they told voters that outrage was “understandable,” they gave these radicals another reason to stay. And now, when one of their own crosses the line into open malice, they discover the ring doesn’t come off so easily.

The voters see it. Normal people, the ones who aren’t glued to Legacy Media narratives, know the difference between passion and poison.

They know what it looks like when a movement loses its moral compass and pretends that silence equals virtue. They know when a party has become afraid of its own reflection.

The Democrats thought they were courting passion. They ended up marrying chaos. And now, standing before the cameras, they can’t back out.

They said “for better or worse.”

They just didn’t realize “worse” would arrive before Election Day.

So yes, this is the wedding they planned—radicals at the altar, donors in the pews, and the press playing organ music while pretending not to notice the smell of smoke. They made the vows. They chose the company. And now the nation gets to watch them live with their choice.

You may kiss the bride.

And everything that comes with her.