The former president played the usual hits at a rally Saturday, but rock musician Ted Nugent found new lows.
What does Texas conservatism look like after the election is over?
Campaigns get complicated when politics and gender collide. Just ask Wendy Davis.
The Motor City Madman has been called many things over the past few decades, but until last week, you couldn't call him phony.
The man expected to become the next governor of Texas shows that he lacks political judgment.
Ted Nugent Will Be Speaking at a League City Event For Veterans, Which Means Controversy Has Already Ensued
The controversy-courting Motor City Madman has donated his speaking/rocking services to the "Salute to Heroes Patriot Dinner and Concert" in April, which will raise funds for a New Braunfels non-profit that builds homes for disabled veterans, and he's got—you guessed it—some strong words for those who would criticize that appearance.
Unlike the NRA, “Uncle Ted” did not go quiet or show any signs of softening his stance on guns after last week’s Newtown shooting.
Ted Nugent, the unrepentant hunter and right-wing activist, grabs the media's attention with his political rhetoric, landing appearances on the Texas Tribune and CBS This Morning.
The rocker sticks to his not-so-metaphorical guns, saying the reaction to his comments about President Obama make him like "a black Jew at a Nazi-Klan rally."
In the late seventies, Ted Nugent (a.k.a. “the Nuge” or “Uncle Ted”) had the country’s biggest hard-rock touring act—a wild-ass blend of in-your-face energy, obscene language, and a well-placed loincloth. Now he’s the country’s biggest gun rights advocate—and all that’s changed is the loincloth.
The musician shows us some of his gear.
“Political correctness really is a mental disorder.”
Stumping for Mitt Romney at the NRA convention, the rock star proclaims that he "will either be dead or in jail by this time next year" if President Barack Obama is reelected.
I drove to Houston for the rally yesterday. The event was held at a huge complex called the Richard E. Berry Educational Support center on Barker-Cypress Road in northwest Houston. The surrounding area is entirely outside the Houston city limits and is unincorporated. A colleague at Texas Monthly who lives
In the state with the nation’s most celebrated concealed carry law, is it any wonder that the annual convention of pistol packers, peddlers, and promoters was number one with a bullet?