the Buchanan Brigades, but it will not bernthe same party with them in charge.rnThe Buchananites segregated themselvesrnin the back of the room, foreshadowingrnthe sundering of the state party.rnRight from the start, the voting rule wasrnchallenged. “Point of order!” cried onernman, a tall mustachioed chap wearing arnReform baseball cap. He was challengingrnthe legality of the meeting that hadrnestablished the voting rule through an extensivernworking knowledge of Robert’srnRules of Order, which a true Reform Partyrnmember, like a lay preacher with hisrnBible, should not be without.rnThe meeting’s parliamentarian, anrnIchabod Crane look-alike, promptlyrnruled him out of order. He claimed to berna professional parliamentarian, but sincernhe was not from England, I figured he wasrnone of the state leader’s friends, a hotel employee,rnor someone from the airport. Herndid not prove impartial. “Point of order!”rnthe Buchananites cried from the back. “Irnchallenge the ruling of the chair!” Tornwhich he replied, ‘You’re out of order!”rnHe swatted down each motion.rnThe Buchananites realized that the fixrnwas in, so they proceeded to organizerntheir own meeting in the back. Pandemoniumrnbroke out, complete withrnyelling, catcalls, arguments, and threatsrnto call the cops. Now there were two convenfionsrnof the Wisconsin Reform Party.rn(Thanks to the Radisson staff for providingrnthe Brigades with our own podium.)rnBoth proceeded to elect their own delegates,rnnational committeemen, and staternofficers, while trying to talk over each other.rnMeanwhile, a hotel manager franticallyrnran around, trying to figure out whatrnwas going on. Since we had already paidrnour ten dollars to get in, he let us stay. Repeatedrnattempts to turn off the Muzakrnwere unsuccessful.rnThe event was reminiscent of thernscene in Warren Beatty’s movie Reds inrnwhich John Reed and his socialist compatriotsrnare driven out of the party at theirrnChicago convention in 1919. Soon theyrnare meeting in a boiler room, setting uprnthe “Communist Labor Party of America”rnand splitting the communists untilrnthere is nothing left but splinters. This isrnone reason why the Founding Fathersrndistrusted political parties. While theyrnclaim to organize around ideals, for thernmost part, parties evolve around personalities.rnHuman nature being what it is, disagreementsrnthen split the parties intornmore and more factions until the originalrnpoint is lost. Our ancestors feared that arnstrong party could only be organizedrnaround a strong man and centralized accordingrnto his vision, which would threatenrnthe idea of liberty itself. Looking atrnthe Jacobins, the communists, the Nazis,rnand the fascists, it’s hard to argue thatrnthey were wrong.rnThis is the struggle Buchanan ultimatelyrnfaces. His political movement isrnanimated by very strong ideals, but it is alsornpersonality-based. Because tlie Brigadesrnare loyal to him personally, they wouldrnnot have joined the Reform Party withoutrnhim. They think he is the only candidaternwho addresses their views, and I agree.rnBut many would have followed him tornthe Workers World Party or any otherrnparty he might have joined. If Buchananrnloses this fall, does he stay, and do theyrnstay, in the Reform Party? Do they workrnto make it stronger? Or do they walkrnaway after what will perhaps be his lastrncampaign?rnThis is what concerns and upsets longtimernReform members. EVen some Reformersrnsympathetic to Buchanan’s causernwere put off by what they saw as a putsch.rnOne state leader said, “I’ve been workingrnwith this part)’ since it was founded eightrnyears ago!” She sounded like a little kidrnwhose tree-house club had been takenrnover by the kids down the block. Thernproblem is that parties are not clubs—atrnleast stiong ones are not. But WisconsinrnReform has not been much of a party.rnUp until this point, I was more or less arnfly on the wall, worried about spendingrnan evening in a Milwaukee jail cell forrnmy political views. But since I was thernonly third-district delegate there, I wasrnnamed to the Buchanan slate to the nationalrnconvention in Long Beach, California.rnI am reluctant to go, but maybe Irnwill, at least if headquarters cannot findrnan alternate to take my place. I wouldrnlike to participate in a real national politicalrnconvention.rnOnce upon a time, such events tookrnplace: scenes of great battles for presidentialrnnominations and forums for heatedrnand passionate discussions of the pressingrnissues of the day. Then they becamernsanitized for television’s sake. Perhapsrnthe Reform Party will hold an old-fashionedrnconvention. Perhaps I will actuallyrnsee people willing to put their fists andrntheir faces on the line for what they believe.rnI’ll be sure to pack a set of boxingrngloves.rnSean Scallon is a journalist who lives inrnEast Ellsworth, Wisconsin.rnLetter From Kansasrnby Harlan ]. EdmondsrnDisinherit the WindrnAs a displaced Southerner sojourning inrnKansas, I’ll never forget the time I wanderedrninto the statehouse and encounteredrnJohn Steuart Curry’s mural. Onernsection features John Brown, girded withrnsword and pistol, mouth and eyes agape.rnMosaic beard jutting off at a right angle,rnbrandishing a rifle in one hand and thernGood Book in the other. Grossly exaggeratedrnin size, he looms over stalwartrnYankee saints to his right and sinisterrnConfederate sinners to his left, with coweringrnNegroes behind and dead soldiersrnprostrate at his feet. Looking back, I’mrnnot sure which is worse: that the thingrnwas commissioned as late as the 1930’s,rnor that it is still there. Even so, after arndecade of living in this state, I’m startingrnto feel right at home. Most Kansans theserndays are friendly, practice good citizenship,rnand mind their own business—unlikernOsawatomie Brown. In the face ofrnsuch improvements, it seems ironic thatrnKansas is drawing global condemnationrnas a staging ground for antinomian terror.rnI’m not talking about Timothy McVeigh.rnJudging from the sheer quantityrnof bad press, the biggest villain in the historyrnof the state is the Kansas Board of Educationrn(KBE). Nobody got hacked torndeath or blown up this time, but everyrnmedia apparatchik from Topeka tornPeking has raised the alarm, lest “thernmental hijacking of an entire state’s childrenrnby sectarian zealots”—as the NewrnRepublic shrilled—be allowed to stand.rnOnce perceived far and wide as an innocuousrnand blandly progressive “Landrnof Oz,” Kansas found its image transformedrnovernight into that of a politicallyrnincorrect relic right out of the Stone Age.rnContrary to popular reports, the KBErnhad something milder in mind in earlyrn1999 when it embarked on a standardizationrnof the science curriculum and testingrnstandards for grades K through 12. Arnstate-appointed, 27-member committeernof “science experts” was sent to the KBE’srnaid; the committee cribbed materialrnfrom sources such as the educational armrnof the National Academy of Sciences andrn36/CHRONICLESrnrnrn