by Reese Calloway
This week, under the copper Dome, we were back in the ring. Boxing or circus, it’s hard to tell during this “triple-session” season, when the coffee is burnt, nerves are frayed and the mood is somewhere between hostage crisis and an extreme endurance sport wipeout.
For those playing along at home, “triple-session” days mean starting early, staying late and abandoning all illusions of balance, meals or sanity. Mornings begin with caucus, where we try to triage the legislative chaos that’s about to unfold. Then we drag ourselves into the chamber. Never on time, though, because “legislative time” is just “Island Time” with more lying and less sunshine. Then Maine’s citizen legislature slogs through hours of roll calls, floor speeches and procedural speed bumps, lobbed like Molotov cocktails, by the party of obstructors who can't pass a bill, but are well-versed in the art of slowing down legislating to the pace of a salted snail.
During triple sessions, lunch is an abstract concept. If you didn’t bring a brown bag, it’s crackers out of your briefcase or an emotional support granola bar found in the cloakroom. There’s no time for going out to Amatos or Sam’s for an Italian. Not time enough even to walk the tunnel to the Cross Cafe for a stale pre-wrapped sandwich or snack.
In other words, this is the season of no escape. Just you, your colleagues, the tireless legislative staff and the creeping sense we’re all trapped in a live-action simulation of The Purge: Parliamentary Edition.
But it’s not until the third session, the one that starts after sundown (and sanity) that the legislative wheels truly come off. Case-in-point: June 2, 2025.
As the hour got late, Republicans started hemorrhaging members. Some ghosted the Dome so they could go home for Netflix and chill. Others wandered off in search of a Facebook LIVE, a cold beer or a phat joint. With GOP member numbers down and out, Democrats saw a chance to move some bills through. Nothing dramatic. Not sneaky. Just gitting ‘er done. Also known as governing. Or, doing the job Mainers elected us to do.
Cue the histrionics.
The GOP started whining about the “9 p.m. rule,” a courtesy guideline, not a law, that we often bypass. Which, on June 2, we did.
But apparently, after the 9 p.m. hour, stranger things start to happen. Evidently, nine is the witching hour when select House Republican Mogwai turn into Gremlins. Or, conversely, at 2100, members’ cars are transformed into pumpkins. Or, as is the case with Rep. Shelley Rudnicki and several other GOPers, when the chamber’s clock strikes 9, they become werewolves. (An exception is Ken Fredette, who oddly, turns into a Boto Encantado, a shapeshifting dolphin from the Amazon.) Even worse, if forced to work late, every single member of the “End Times Caucus” of the Maine GOP risks the danger of transmutation and becoming an “Aswang,” a sort of Filipino monster related to vampires.
In other words, on the red side of the aisle, all logic breaks down when the clock’s small hand is on the nine and the big hand is on the 12. Rules become whatever GOPers claim they are. And every motion becomes a conspiracy theory, filed in triplicate, with an HR complaint and a whine.
Rep. Liz Caruso (not a shapeshifter, apparently) tried to buy time with a filibuster-lite on her “right-to-hunt bill,” rambling about ethical death and coyotes in what felt like the world's bleakest — and most boring — TED Talk. This babble occurred after she missed her own roll call, which meant we had to reset the entire damn process. Let me be clear: not one other lawmaker stood to speak in support of her dreams. Just Caruso, reading the crayoned script from her own one-woman off-Broadway flop called “Field-Dressed Feelings.”
Then IT happened: a farm insurance bill came up — one that even the GOP knew was DOA — and suddenly, the whole Republican caucus short-circuited. Screaming. Accusations. And the usual shriekers stood up and called the Speaker a liar. The GOP has become a chorus of interchangeable banshees, with each louder and less coherent than the last. This time, though, the loudest was Rep. Marygrace Cimino, assistant manager of a T.J. Maxx department store in N.H, who wasn’t happy to be working an evening shift.
And then, in what I’m sure Billy Bob Faulkingham thought was a dramatic Churchillian move, the House GOP leader rose from his beanbag chair and ordered his entire Republican caucus to walk out of the chambers. Such a bold and daring move, the faux-lobsterman reasoned, would teach the Dems who was really in charge.
And out the GOPers waddled, like a preschool class whose juice boxes got swapped for subpoenas.
All except for Rep. Will Tuell, who didn’t leave. Credit given where it is due: The people of East Machias should be proud: their elected rep stayed to do his job.
This performative exit once again proved that, collectively, Maine’s GOP lawmakers are more interested in temper tantrums than legislating. For the record, this was the first such en masse walk-out in recent memory. (Or, possibly, ever.)

With the chamber cleared of the Republican hoi polloi, a motion was made to get back to the peoples’ business. But then Billy Bob stormed back into the chamber, declaring we had no quorum.
He was wrong. PER USUAL. Plot twist: we had a quorum. Barely. Thanks to Tuell staying in his seat. Yep. You read that right. The same party that screams day-and-night about “process” has no idea what the actual process is. And the only reason they didn’t blow up the entire night was because one of their own decided to act like an adult.
At that point, we had the numbers. The Dems could’ve finished the calendar. We could’ve governed without them and got the job done.
But here’s the difference between the two parties: we actually give a damn about preserving the integrity of the institution and the 132nd Legislature. So instead of finishing the night under the flickering light of chaos and cowards, leadership made the grown-up call. We adjourned.
Because someone had to be the adult in the room. And it clearly wasn’t going to be the party that threw a tantrum, took their toys and walked out, crying like a bunch of toddlers just told that their BLT was made from the smoked belly of Peppa Pig.
So next time you hear GOPers bleating about “tyranny” or “fairness,” remember the June 2nd walkout. They chose to flee rather than fight. They had the chance and the mic. And they threw it all away for the dopamine hit of performative pomp and pouting. Meanwhile, Democrats just tried to get some work finished and eat a sandwich before midnight.
Laundry List of Lamentations
We’re clocking 20 to 50 divided reports a day (which, for you normies out there, means a bill that makes it out of committee without agreement) with each divided report becoming a timesink for an unknown amount of wrangling. Could take ten minutes or ten hours. The only way to survive this period of this legislative pandemonium is double espressos, gallows humor and possessing the attitude of a golden retriever on ketamine.
LD 1160: Foreign Utilities and Carlow's Cold War Dream
Let’s begin with Rep. Nathan Carlow’s unsolicited dramatic monologue, also known as the floor debate on LD 1160. The bill was about foreign ownership of public utilities — until it wasn’t. Carlow veered into TikTok, Qatari panic and almost organically, Chinese-grown cannabis. The man (who also works as the PR chief for the Catholic Diocese of Portland) delivered a geopolitical fever dream that made about as much legislative sense as a gizzard at a judicial nomination. (Yes, that happened too—keep reading.)
LD 160: Real ID, Real Quiet
Real ID went to a vote without the usual pageantry. Why? Because Rep. Laurel Libby (the bigoted doxxer of teenage athletes) still isn’t allowed to use her actual whiny voice. (The recent Supreme Court decision allowed her to vote, but not speak.) The silence? Golden and blissful. Don’t worry, Libby made her mark-of-the-Beast in other ways — like being the lone “no” on a slew of uncontroversial emergency measures… except a measure about naturopaths. Libby just skipped that vote. Probably was a cleanse day.
LD 255: Mobile Homes and Microaggressions
Ah yes, a bill to “Support Mobile Home Residents in Purchasing Their Mobile Home Parks,” the first of what promised to be a full telenovela on trailer parks. Rep. Poppy Arford barely got three words in before GOPers went nuts and tried to point-of-order her into oblivion. Democrats want protections for Mainers trying to better their housing situation. Republicans want... quieter Democrats?
LD 16: Gizzards, Divorce, and Secession—Oh My
A bill on county prosecutor appointments devolved into the aforementioned Rep. Tuell’s stand-up comedy act about chicken gizzards, divorce court and Washington County threatening to secede. (That’s both a bad and sad joke.) Whatever substance Tuell is tooting, I recommend avoiding.
Libby’s Ghost Vote™
With her voting privileges restored, did Rep. Libby channel the will of the constituents? Nope. She voted “no” on everything just because she’s a freakish example of an obstructionist. Not to delve too much into the rat sausage making, but in the case of “emergency enactors,” once the vote count hits ⅔ of the chamber, the Speaker can close the vote. Libby’s role in all this? An IRL temper tantrum in legislative form by a crybaby rendered mute because of her bigotry.
Republicans vs. Hospitals: The Munchausen Strategy-By-Proxy
Here’s a doozy: the Maine GOP voted against the budget that funds our hospitals and doctors. Then they blocked emergency efforts to get medical centers the money. And now? They show up the very day hospitals are drowning with a bogus “rescue bill,” trying to look like they’re an emergency room triage team instead of stupid serial killers with stethoscopes. Rep. Gary Drinkwater’s last minute bill was a steaming pile of hot chaos masquerading as a cure. Spoiler: you don’t get credit for saving a patient you just stabbed. Once again, the GOP wasn’t making policy. They were committing malpractice with a media release and cudgel.
Rails, Trails and Toxic Takes
LD 551 was brought to you by the phrase “emergency powers” and Rep. Tuell again, who apparently self-appointed himself as the Legislature’s Chief Hindsight Officer. Tuell, whose official legislative bio lists “journalist” as his occupation, tried to fix problems we don’t have. Apparently, by restoring “balance” to emergency authority by undermining and limiting the very system that kept Mainers alive during a pandemic. Some might admire Tuell’s commitment to solving hypothetical problems while ignoring actual ones faced by his constituents in East Machias. Not me, though.
Now for something completely different
LD 723 had the Criminal Justice Academy studying non-residential programs for future wannabe cops. This might have been an almost normal debate if Rep. Nutting hadn’t invoked the phrase “the beatings will stop when morale improves.” Just what we need — policy via Monty Python by Nutting, a bankrupted former pharmacist (and House Speaker) who allegedly overbilled Medicaid, in 2003, by about $1.3 million.
Nuclear wasteoids
While discussing LD 343, the nuclear portfolio bill, Rep. Reagan Paul, bless her glowing and highly radioactive heart, made the case that nuclear power is simultaneously more “retire-able” than wind turbines and the most stable long-term carbon-free energy. That’s what we call “Schrödinger’s Reactor.” I’d say she’s getting her talking points from Big Nuclear, but I suspect her homemade gamma ray machine may have scrambled her logic centers. Or, not to be age-ist, but since Paul is so young and dumb, it is possible that she has never heard of the albatross known as Maine Yankee.
But wait! Enter Rep. Matthew McIntyre. This guy knows way too much about naval reactors. I had to look him up because we are still at that point in the session when many of our new colleagues are unknown. Turns out, the Republican from Hancock County was an enlisted Navy “nuclear propulsion machinist,” serving for seven years before working for the Secret Service for two decades. It was unclear if McIntyre was for or against this measure, until he declared himself “wicked excited” about diversified portfolios and evoked Dirigo.
I’d make a joke, but I think the reactor core just melted.
PFAS Unlimited
LD 493 reminded us that PFAS is still, incredibly, a topic of debate. How many PFAS bills are there? Too many. But not to Rep. Dick Campbell from Orrington, who decided to carry Mike Soboleski’s torch and ask the question, “How many people have died from PFAS?” The answer, from Rep. Rudnicki’s crack research team, “Zero.” Of course, that’s not even close to true. But hey, why let science ruin a good soundbite? Additionally, Rudnicki attempted to pronounce what PFAS stands for, but her recitation was unclear and sounded more like Klingon than English.
Income Tax Abolition, Because Of Course
LD 671: Rep. Libby wants to abolish the income tax. Still muted by her bigotry, Libby couldn’t even present her own bill, so she tapped Rep. Rudnicki, whose brain immediately unraveled like a Temu sweater. If income tax causes all social problems, like the used car dealer from Fairfield insisted, these two nutjobs are walking arguments for more taxes.
LD 1329 & 1437: ID Me, I'm Racist
This bill would brand driver’s licenses with citizenship status. Rep. Quentin Chapman, never one for subtlety, asked: “What’s the issue? Just put a mark on it.” Sir, history would like a word. Or several. This isn’t governance. It’s bureaucratic bigotry. LD 1437, btw, aims to enshrine voter ID in the constitution. After all, if you’re going to suppress voters, do it in permanent ink. Why just legislate disenfranchisement when you can tattoo it into the state’s DNA?
Filthy-mouthed, crass and vulgar
LD 1395, a human trafficking bill, got hijacked by Rep. Paul’s permanent state of rage, plus Rep. Barbara Bagshaw’s pearl-clutching performance, after being forced to utter the phrase “blow job to a dildo.” Yes, you read that right. The J-6er from Windham referenced fellatio and sex toys in an actual floor speech. This is the current level of discourse. This proposed policy was brought to Maine by the “Jacob Booyens Ministries” a South African End Times preacher, who claims to be led by the “Holy Spirit” in an effort to be marketable. Let’s face it, most Christians believe that God, Jesus & the Holy Spirit are 3 in 1 (aka the holy Trinity). Not these Christos… they’re subscribers to the Holy Ghost Channel and live in a world of prophecy and faith healing practiced by Christian Nationalists.
Unsportsman-like Alliance
A live-action re-enactment of a Sportsman’s Alliance bar brawl brought us a slate of debates that combined testosterone, taxidermy and verbal flailing into one continuous stream of “geezer yelling at clouds.” Sort of like watching men argue over a “reduced for quick sale” camo jumpsuit at Marden’s.
The only thing they do seem to agree on is not listening to each other. You’d think a “hey, you’re not helping” would be in order. While this was likely the least offensive set of legislative debates, the quality of the content seriously makes me wonder if there should be some sort of minimum intellectual standard to serve in the Legislature.
One Last Thing Before You Refill Your Glass!
If you made it this far, congratulations — you now know more about the shenanigans under the Dome than most of the players involved. It’s important to realize that none of this GOP-led chaos is random. Nope. It’s intentionally strategic and dysfunctional by design. The only antidote is paying attention and voting like the survival of our beloved state depends on it. Because it does. The crazies are counting on the masses not watching.
Let’s make sure they’re wrong.