Broke The Looking Glass


I was admitted to the hospital and diagnosed with Type I diabetes on a Friday the 13th. But the rest of the world finds it jinxy for other reasons:

  1. Religious associations: In Christian tradition, Friday is considered unlucky as it’s believed to be the day of Jesus’ crucifixion. The number 13 is associated with Judas, the 13th guest at the Last Supper who betrayed Jesus.
  2. Norse mythology: A legend tells of 12 gods dining in Valhalla when Loki, the trickster god, arrived uninvited as the 13th guest, causing chaos.
  3. Historical events: The arrest of the Knights Templar on Friday, October 13, 1307, is often cited. King Philip IV of France ordered this mass arrest, leading to the order’s eventual dissolution. The Templars were accused of heresy and other crimes, though many historians believe these charges were fabricated. This event added to the day’s ominous reputation.
  4. Cultural reinforcement: Literature, films, and media have perpetuated the superstition, sometimes making it a self-fulfilling prophecy.
  5. Triskaidekaphobia: The general fear of the number 13 contributes to the day’s negative associations. The top of the clinical “number phobias,” which include 4 and 666.

Scared As A Chik Chik Chicken

Trump runs scared.

When it comes to strong, capable women, Donald Trump repeatedly reveals his true nature: a man unable to face them head-on. His refusal today to debate Kamala Harris again is just the latest in a long list of instances where he’s retreated when confronted by women who challenge him.

And make no mistake—this isn’t just a Trump issue; it’s emblematic of the broader Republican approach to gender.

Let’s look at the facts. In July 2024, Trump faced tough questions at the National Association of Black Journalists (NABJ) conference, where he faltered when challenged by female moderators like Rachel Scott of ABC.

His response? A litany of baseless claims and thinly veiled insults aimed at Harris, accusing her of only recently identifying as Black—an assertion that was instantly debunked. Trump’s discomfort was palpable.

His rhetoric quickly devolved into a mess of disjointed ideas, a hallmark of his defensiveness when faced with tough, direct questioning, especially from women of color. Instead of answering, he deflected and insulted, proving yet again that Trump is out of his depth when a strong woman takes the stage.

This is a pattern. In 2018, Trump was famously outmaneuvered by Nancy Pelosi during the government shutdown negotiations. Faced with Pelosi’s political acumen, Trump had no choice but to back down.

And who can forget his 2016 run, where his debates with Hillary Clinton were marked by his stalking and interrupting, clear signs of a man rattled by a woman’s command of the room?

But it’s not just Trump. The entire Republican Party has a history of dismissing and avoiding strong women.

Republicans consistently support policies that limit women’s autonomy, from reproductive rights to equal pay. They shy away from direct confrontations on these issues because they know their positions are indefensible against a well-versed, articulate woman.

The GOP is more comfortable passing laws behind closed doors than defending them in the public square, particularly when the opposition is female.

Trump’s refusal to debate Harris isn’t about strategy—it’s about fear. It’s about his inability to face strong women on equal footing.

And this cowardice isn’t just his; it’s the Republican Party’s legacy.