The perfect embodiment of Booker’s time as mayor of Newark is the Pampers story. The mayor got wind of a damsel in distress, a mother of five named Barbara Byers, who amid a heavy snow was running out of diapers. Byers’ brother tweeted news of the crisis to Booker, who famously responded “I’m on it” and showed up at her door to replenish her supply.
But as Byers told Politico she never needed his photo-op heroics. “The only reason he brought me Pampers was that it had been three days and our street hadn’t been plowed,” she said. “I have five kids and, trust me, I don’t just run out of Pampers. All we wanted was for him to plow our streets. It’s about knowing how to manage a city.”
That’s Booker. All show, no substance and a tenuous connection to reality. What he knows is how to present the media with a fraudulent story that masks his incompetence. Criticize his ability to fight crime and he’ll tell you about T-Bone, a drug dealer of his acquaintance who wants him dead.
But T-Bone is a figment of his imagination. There is no T-Bone.
Just like the Jeff Sessions that Booker broke centuries of Senate tradition to denounce as a racist in Wednesday’s confirmation hearing doesn’t exist — and like in the case of the imaginary T-Bone, Booker knows it.
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