The Toxicity of Harry Reid

Fight disinformation: Sign up for the free Mother Jones Daily newsletter and follow the news that matters.


“Rory’s Education Plan.” “Rory2010.com.” “Paid for by Rory 2010.”

If you didn’t know better, you might think the Nevada gubernatorial candidate named Rory was a Brazilian soccer player, one of those guys with just one name on the back of his jersey. (Hey, it’s World Cup season!) Well, not quite. “Rory 2010,” if you don’t already know, is the campaign for Democrat Rory Reid, the son of Nevada’s most recognizable—and, for many, most loathed—politician: Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid.

Today, Reid officially launched his run for the Silver State’s governor’s office with an ad that’s notable for, well, completely omitting his last name. The ad—which features a cast of cute little kids talking education reform, a major issue of Reid’s, ahem, Rory’s—just goes to show how toxic the Reid name has become amongst large swaths of Nevada voters. In a recent Rasmussen poll gauging the elder Reid’s standing in his US Senate race, fringe conservative Sharron Angle leads Harry Reid by 7 percentage points. Even on Rory Reid’s website, his ties to his father are completely scrubbed; Rory’s bio page, for instance, reads like this:

As Chairman of the Clark County Commission Rory has managed a budget bigger than the state’s general fund for seven years, balanced it every year, and never raised taxes.

Rory, 47, grew up in Nevada attending public schools, as do his three great kids. He attended Brigham Young University, graduating with a dual degree in international relations and Spanish, and continued his studies there through law school. He and his wife, Cindy, have been married for 22 years.

Here’s Rory’s ad:

OUR DEADLINE MATH PROBLEM

It’s risky, but also unavoidable: A full one-third of the dollars that we need to pay for the journalism you rely on has to get raised in December. A good December means our newsroom is fully staffed, well-resourced, and on the beat. A bad one portends budget trouble and hard choices.

The December 31 deadline is drawing nearer, and if we’re going to have any chance of making our goal, we need those of you who’ve never pitched in before to join the ranks of MoJo donors.

We simply can’t afford to come up short. There is no cushion in our razor-thin budget—no backup, no alternative sources of revenue to balance our books. Corporations and powerful people with deep pockets will never sustain the fierce journalism we do. That’s why we need you to show up for us right now.

payment methods

OUR DEADLINE MATH PROBLEM

It’s risky, but also unavoidable: A full one-third of the dollars that we need to pay for the journalism you rely on has to get raised in December. A good December means our newsroom is fully staffed, well-resourced, and on the beat. A bad one portends budget trouble and hard choices.

The December 31 deadline is drawing nearer, and if we’re going to have any chance of making our goal, we need those of you who’ve never pitched in before to join the ranks of MoJo donors.

We simply can’t afford to come up short. There is no cushion in our razor-thin budget—no backup, no alternative sources of revenue to balance our books. Corporations and powerful people with deep pockets will never sustain the fierce journalism we do. That’s why we need you to show up for us right now.

payment methods

We Recommend

Latest

Sign up for our free newsletter

Subscribe to the Mother Jones Daily to have our top stories delivered directly to your inbox.

Get our award-winning magazine

Save big on a full year of investigations, ideas, and insights.

Subscribe

Support our journalism

Help Mother Jones' reporters dig deep with a tax-deductible donation.

Donate