Libertarian party

Welcome to Thunderdome. Democrats had a plan for 2024, a plan that they executed very well at the beginning. They would unleash a barrage of legal challenges on Donald Trump, designed to render him unacceptable to all but the hardcore Republican base whose support would still vault him to the nomination of a GOP contest where his only competition was really Ron DeSantis and Nikki Haley. That plan succeeded perfectly, perhaps even faster than they wanted, given that the candidates never really had time to tear each other down. Step one: a major success. Step two: use these assorted legal challenges to weigh down the Trump campaign with legal costs and distractions that pull him all over the country with hearings and pleadings and requirements to show up before various courts.

The Libertarian Party announced its presidential candidate Monday, and from the looks of it, they may as well have chosen Donald Trump.Chase Oliver is the porcupines’ pick for president, as RFK Jr. was rejected and Trump was ineligible for the nomination. Otherwise he “would have absolutely gotten” it if he wanted it, per his Truth Social account.Oliver describes himself on his website as having “[been] recognized as the ‘most influential Libertarian’ by Rolling Stone, [and] garnered national attention following his debate with incumbent Senator Raphael Warnock and Herschel Walker’s empty podium. With over 80,000 votes, Oliver forced a runoff between the Republican and Democratic candidates.

The 2024 Libertarian National Convention in Washington, DC, unsurprisingly attracted a quirky bunch. Attendees would find themselves greeted by a man wearing a “Fuck Vaccines” shirt (not that odd) that was doing some squats in the lobby (pretty odd). Also overheard in the lobby, a weird flex: “I read Mises before I was twenty” — and then an even weirder one: “I grew up without AC, a very libertarian upbringing.” “Ermmm, konnichiwa actually means good afternoon,” one lady told her interlocutor. Last cycle’s Libertarian vice-presidential candidate Spike Cohen told The Spectator, “It is useful to have Donald Trump speak, only if our candidate speaks right after him and rebuts him. Same with RFK. We should be leveraging them for attention, not the reverse.

Everyone knew some husky chap in college who smelled like onions and called himself a libertarian. He may or may not have worn a fedora. He wasn’t cool enough to do drugs but he figured that, if he never stopped talking about how much he wanted to legalize them, he’d get a bit of second-hand cool. This fellow was never seen without a copy of The Road to Serfdom tucked beneath his sweaty armpit. He never missed a seminar (again, lame) and would say the name of Ayn Rand out loud at least once per class. Sometimes he wouldn’t even raise his hand first; he’d just whisper it lovingly under his breath.

Three weeks after announcing his bid for the Libertarian party presidential nomination, Justin Amash has called it off. What went wrong? His brief campaign was a media success, if nothing else — and spreading the libertarian gospel to a wider audience by getting on shows like Meet the Press is all that a Libertarian nominee can reasonably ask for. Amash couldn’t have had any illusions about that: he’s self-indulgently idealistic, but he’s not stupid. Was he in danger of failing to get the nomination? If history is any guide, he should have been a shoo-in. The Libertarian party nominated less qualified and capable ex-Republicans in each of its last three presidential contests. Amash had a small-l libertarian voting record in Congress.

Justin Amash has announced that he's running for president as a Libertarian. The sitting five-term congressman from Michigan quit the Republican party on July 4 last year and was the sole non-Democratic vote to impeach Donald Trump in December. Amash won't win in the fall, but like Gov. Gary Johnson, the LP’s 2016 candidate who earned 4.5 million votes, his presence could easily throw the election to either Donald Trump or Joe Biden.Far more important, especially to the plurality of Americans who consider themselves politically independent, the 40-year-old son of Middle Eastern immigrants from Palestine and Syria has the potential to radically change what Americans expect — or demand — from their national politicians.