This is the flagship. Every week it runs the same two columns, and the joke writes itself because the columns never balance.
Column one: the legislature. Bill numbers. Roll calls. Amendments adopted and rejected. Housing, energy, the budget, shellfish permits, the culvert nobody wants to pay for. Boring, procedural, and the only place on earth where anything actually becomes law.
Column two: the guild. Overpasses held. Signs made. Likes accrued. Postcards mailed to jurisdictions where nobody in the party is registered to vote.
Why we score it this way
Because the boss they never fight is the one that can be beaten. A state rep will answer an email. A committee chair will take a meeting about a culvert. A town meeting warrant article can be amended by eleven people who showed up on a Tuesday. This is not a secret, and it is not hard. It is simply less photogenic than a highway shoulder.
The campaign against a distant Bad Orange Man has one enormous advantage over any of that: it can never be lost. He is always out there, always winning, always requiring another Saturday. A culvert, by contrast, gets funded or it doesn’t, and then you have a result on your record. Results are dangerous. Vibes are renewable.
Primary stat: FEELINGS. Dump stat: Bills Read.
Issue 2 carries the first full scoreboard: bill numbers, roll calls, and the guild’s movements for the same seven days. The roll calls are a matter of public record. So, increasingly, are the movements.