The attacks on James Talarico have not been subtle. In the weeks since the 37-year-old state representative won the Democratic U.S. Senate primary in Texas, Republicans have been describing him as "Low-T Talarico," "James Talafreako," and "Six-Gender Jimmy." On May 28, White House immigration czar Stephen Miller told Fox News it was "brave, courageous, that the Democratic Party would choose Texas, of all places, to nominate their first transgender Senate candidate."
Republicans have long marketed themselves as the manlier party, but the anti-Talarico blitzkrieg is both obviously coordinated and unusually overt. The strategy, as Democratic presidential hopeful Rahm Emanuel has noted, is to associate the entire left with being "weak and woke." Talarico's aw-shucks niceness and youthful looks are reframed as low testosterone, and his admittedly mawkish statements about gender-nonconforming children make him a "freak." Worst of all, according to Florida Republican Dan Weldon, Talarico looks like he "couldn't name a single obscure wide receiver from the early 2000s." Supporters of Republican candidate Ken Paxton portray Democrats as wusses, cucks, and soy boys who don't follow sports. One commentator mused about whether Talarico wears "frilly underwear."
Mostly, the attacks have taken the form of 99,999 dog whistles implying he is gay. On Fox News, Jesse Watters laughingly observed that Democrats had rebutted rumors Talarico is vegan by posting photos of him "swallowing large sticks of meat." He added: "He's also 37 and not married." When the New York Post confirmed Talarico's girlfriend exists, the attack line mutated - did you know she's vegan? Pretty gay.
By the way, watch the clip of Watters and Miller in full, because Miller has the natural comic gifts that usually persuade people to forsake stand-up and become a funeral director. Watters underlines the pathos with live-action canned laughter. Yet Miller must have some sense of humor, because his vegan roast concluded that Texans, "some of the toughest, roughest, strongest men and women" in America, would never vote for "somebody with that much soy to be a U.S. senator, compared to a real conservative, patriotic, God-fearing, and truly beloved statewide figure in Ken Paxton."
Ken Paxton? Truly beloved? Now that's comedy. Paxton is not even truly beloved in his own party. In 2023, fellow Republicans in the state House voted overwhelmingly to impeach him over corruption allegations. (He was acquitted in the state Senate.) Until a few days ago, the attorney general and his wife Angela were heading toward a public trial in their contested divorce. Luckily for him, since his primary victory - powered by Donald Trump's endorsement - the "parties have jointly agreed that a trial setting is no longer necessary," per his lawyers. Classic Paxton controversies include pen-rustling, a securities-fraud case dropped after he took an ethics class, and what Talarico calls his opponent giving "Epstein-style sweetheart deals to pedophiles." Days before winning the nomination, Paxton allowed a man who acknowledged abusing a young boy to serve just 29 days in jail.
Because making a positive case for Paxton is difficult, the obvious Republican strategy is to go negative on his opponent. Talarico's public record from the "peak woke" era includes a trail of wince-inducing statements: God is "nonbinary." There are not two sexes, but six - and therefore girls' sports need not remain reserved for female athletes. In 2022, he ran what he called a "non-meat campaign." America should treat its southern border like a front porch, with a "giant welcome mat out front." (The Republican attack ad omitted the end of the sentence: "and a lock on the door.")
These comments were reckless. Some of us said at the time that politicians should use everyday language, rather than push into new linguistic frontiers. If Talarico had said "women" when defending abortion rights in 2022, rather than "neighbors with a uterus," everyone would have understood. His formulation sounded like a uterus is something you borrow, like a cup of sugar.
Tying together Talarico's politics and personality, and deeming both weak and unmanly, attempts to turn Paxton's alleged vices into proof of virility: Real men eat barbecue, pocket unattended stationery, and cheat on their wife. This ideal of masculinity is not a patriarch but a perpetual adolescent, endlessly irresponsible and indulged. (The archetype also appears on the left.)
In other circumstances, there'd be no need for this full-court press. Trump won Texas by 14 points in 2024. But the financial fallout from the Iran war and his endorsement of Paxton over incumbent Senator John Cornyn have created the slimmest of chances for Democrats, which Republicans intend to crush with maximum aggression. "We have not seen ugly yet," Texas Republican strategist Vinny Minchillo told my colleague Elaine Godfrey, adding the plan was to paint Talarico as "the woke DEI candidate of all woke DEI candidates. And pound him, pound him, pound him." (Sir, you're supposed to make the other side sound gay.)
Other reasons the attacks are so ferocious: Talarico has sold himself as a seminarian and presumed to speak as a Christian. As a lifelong member of progressive St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church in Austin, his inclusive, nonpatriarchal vision of religion threatens MAGA megachurches and their muscular religiosity. Conservative podcaster Allie Beth Stuckey called Talarico's remarks on God's lack of gender "blasphemous," and Ben Shapiro called him a "pretend Bible teacher." Michael Knowles said the Democrat represented "the modern, weak, sappy version of that same awful replacement of Christianity that has destroyed our civilization" and was "satanically wrong."
Talarico's Jesus is meek and mild. The MAGA Jesus is very like Trump. "You were betrayed and arrested and falsely accused," Trump's spiritual adviser Paula White-Cain said at a White House Easter lunch this year. "It's a familiar pattern that our Lord and Savior showed us." (White-Cain and her then-husband were once investigated by the Senate Finance Committee for allegedly spending church donations on a private jet. No formal findings were made.) The fight over Talarico's masculinity is also a fight over American Christianity: Would Jesus want us to turn the other cheek like a girlie simp, or would he have owned the libs while gnawing on a steak?
Will this character assassination destroy Talarico's candidacy? So far, the Democrat has landed some counterpunches. He embraced the "Talafreako" label and sells merch. He has denied being vegan, claiming he's been eating barbecue "since before Ken Paxton's first indictment." He now says "there are two sexes, men and women." He has thrown his former self under the bus, admitting he "missed the mark" with "cringey" comments.
Yet for all his ultraprogressive language, Talarico does not share the worst tic of "peak woke": doctrinaire haughtiness that declares not only are there six sexes, but anyone who disagrees must be shunned. I first encountered Talarico on Joe Rogan's podcast in 2025 - an interview that culminated in Rogan, by then a swole conservative man's man, suggesting "you need to run for president." Talarico is prepared to argue his case and talk with those outside his tribe. Paxton has not debated an opponent onstage since 2014.
If this race were between a generic Republican and Democrat, you'd bet on Texas staying red. One possible outcome: Paxton wins, and the GOP establishment decides calling opponents effeminate is a winning strategy. MAGA influencers already mock Gavin Newsom for sitting cross-legged; Newsom's team shrugged by posting an image of him folded like a pretzel with the caption "Democracy requires flexibility." Watters has compiled a semi-satirical list of rules for real men: no straws, no soup in public, no male best friends. Megyn Kelly and Adam Carolla mocked Tom Steyer's boast that he would "ride the D." (Steyer, running for governor, was ostensibly talking about the new LA train line.)
But the Republicans' macho chest-beating raises a problem. The party underperforms with female voters, and senior roles in the Trump White House have undergone a remarkable gender transition: Tulsi Gabbard, Pam Bondi, Kristi Noem, and Lori Chavez-DeRemer have all been forced out and replaced by men. Female swing voters have televisions and read the news too, and they can see the party doesn't respect them as much as men.
In Texas and elsewhere, the GOP is saddled with a subpar candidate because no one can stand up to Trump. As Democrats talk about high gas prices, Republicans make an ever longer list of Things That Are Gay. This is a strategy born not of manly strength, but of submissive desperation.