A Southern Fried Guide to Surviving Election Season

Or: Why Your Lazy Neighbor’s Vote Counts Just as Much as Your Educated One—And That Oughtta Scare You Silly

A Field Guide to the 2026 Georgia Primaries

Part One of a Series That Just Might Save Our State

It’s 2026 in Georgia, and the political air is so thick you could slice it with a butter knife… then argue about who funded the butter knife… then watch an attack ad claiming the butter knife hates veterans. 

The Devil in the Details (and the Voting Booth)

 If you’re like me, your mailbox is already starting to groan under the weight of glossy political flyers, and your television is screaming about who’s a saint and who’s the second coming of a tax collector. It’s enough to make a man want to move into a deer stand and never come down. 

The Revelation (The Part That’s Been Heavy on My Heart)

A lot of people tell me: “Dean, I don’t want to get involved in politics.”

Don’t fool yourself politics are involved in your paycheck, your kids’ classrooms, your insurance premiums, your hunting land, your church’s freedom to speak plainly, your grocery bill, and whether the news is trying to keep you informed… or keep you mad for ratings. 

But here’s the revelation:

If Christians disengage, somebody else disciples the public square.  

Not with hymnals—with headlines. Not with scripture—with slogans.

A few thousand motivated souls can completely change the course of a state. Your state. Our state.

(Have you heard about the new Muslim loudspeakers in New York City). 

And I’ll say one more thing, carefully:  

It would be a blessing if Christian churches provided non-partisan voter education resources—not telling people who to vote for, but teaching them how to evaluate: character, policy, competence, and consequences. Because voting blindly isn’t “staying out of politics.”  It’s handing your God-given stewardship to whoever bought the best ad placement. We go to the polls and pick the names we recognize—usually the ones who spent forty-eleven million dollars on commercials paid for by folks they’re gonna owe favors to come January.

And right now, there are races being shaped, narratives being bought and sold, and decisions being made that will ripple out into every single aspect of your daily life — your schools, your business license, your insurance rates, who investigates wrongdoing in your county, and whether somebody with the right last name and the wrong values ends up representing YOU in Washington, D.C.

So this post is a summary of the multi-part series I’m kicking off here in Southern Fried Thoughts—and I’m doing it with a little storytelling framework Not to “manipulate” anybody. But to do something the modern media forgot how to do: keep good people engaged long enough to think clearly.

Because if the decent folks stay home… the loud folks run the show.

What We’re Looking At — And Why It Matters More Than You Think

Georgia in 2026 is not a quiet little off-year election. It is a mountain of decisions, and most people don’t even know the mountain exists.

We’ve got:

– 🏛️ Governor’s Race — Eight candidates, at least one brand-spanking-new billionaire spending a fortune to make you think a guy you’ve trusted for years is suddenly the villain of the story

– 🇺🇸 U.S. Senate — Four candidates, including some familiar faces from our own Congressional delegation

– 🎯 Lieutenant Governor — Seven people, most of whom you’ve probably never heard of

– ⚖️ Attorney General — Two state senators, and a job description that affects you more than you probably realize

– 📋 Secretary of State — Four candidates for a position that touches every business and election in Georgia

– 🏫 Superintendent of Schools — Five folks applying to oversee the education of Georgia’s children, right at the moment Washington is handing power back to the states

– 🏠 Right here in the 1st Congressional District — Eight Republicans, seven Democrats, and one Socialist, all fighting for Buddy Carter’s seat

Now, I’m going to be walking through each one of these races with you in the coming weeks. We are going to dig deep. We are going to follow the money — because honey, money talks and bull walks, and nowhere is that truer than in a political campaign. We’re going to look at who these people actually are, what they’ve actually done, and whether their skills match the job they’re applying for.

Because that’s what this is, at the end of the day. A job interview. And you are the employer.

The Billionaire in the Room

Now, I can’t move on without addressing the big elephant — or maybe the big money truck — sitting right in the middle of the Governor’s race.

A fellow by the name of Rick Jackson has just thrown his hat into the ring. And I don’t mean he tossed it gently. I mean he heaved it in from about fifty yards away with the full force of a billionaire’s bank account behind it.

Rick’s got a compelling story, I’ll give him that. Raised in an orphanage. Built himself up from nothing into a self-made billionaire. Compares himself to President Donald Trump — a lot. And right now, he is spending what appears to be an extraordinary amount of money on television commercials aimed squarely at making Lieutenant Governor Burt Jones look like something the cat dragged in.

A lot of us have known Burt Jones for a while. We’ve watched him. We’ve trusted him. And now, with millions of dollars being dropped like carpet bombs across our television screens, some of us are starting to feel… confused. A little wobbly. Like we’re not sure what we actually know anymore.

And that feeling? That wobbliness?

That is exactly what those commercials are designed to create.

I’m not telling you who to vote for. Not yet. What I am telling you is this: Don’t let someone else’s money make your decision for you. The mainstream media is going to cover Rick Jackson like he’s the second coming of sweet tea, because right now he’s a cash cow for their advertising revenue. You are not going to get unbiased reporting from them. Period. Full stop. You’ve been warned.

This calls for something old-fashioned. Something almost radical in today’s world.

Grassroots research.

Follow the Money, Friend

There is one piece of political wisdom I want to give you today that is worth more than just about anything else I could say:

Follow. The. Money.

I want you to think about something. When somebody donates a large sum to a political campaign, they are not doing it out of the goodness of their heart. They are making an investment. And investments come with expected returns.

So when you look at a candidate — any candidate, from Governor all the way down to your local congressional race — ask yourself: Who is paying for this? And what do they expect to get back?

Take a look at our own 1st Congressional District race. I’ve already told you where my heart is — I’m riding with Kandiss Taylor, and I’ll tell you exactly why in detail in a future installment. But look at the financial numbers across this field and let your eyebrows do what they’re naturally going to do.

James Kingston has pulled in $1,617,480 in receipts. That is a significant pile of money for a congressional primary. Patrick Farrell has $465,286 in cash on hand. Meanwhile, Kandiss Taylor — the woman I believe has the genuine fire, the faith, and the fight Georgia needs in Washington — is working with $3,830 in cash on hand. (Hint Hint!)

And we are the little guys, friend. Always have been. Always will be. And we’d better act like it.

The Church Has Left the Building — But It Shouldn’t Have

Here’s something I want to put in front of you that I think about more than almost anything else when it comes to this election season:

Where is the Church?

I’m a God-fearing man. I’ve told you that. My faith isn’t a bumper sticker — it’s the engine that runs this whole operation. And it breaks my heart — genuinely breaks my heart — that so many believers in this country have convinced themselves that faith and civic responsibility are two separate conversations.

They are not.

Your vote is a moral act. It is an act of stewardship over the community God placed you in. When you walk into that voting booth — if you walk into that voting booth — you are making a decision that affects the widow down the street, the children in the public school, the small business owner trying to keep the lights on, and the farmer trying to hold on to his land.

I would love — Lord, I would love — to see Christian churches across Georgia take it upon themselves to provide real, honest, nonpartisan voter resources to their congregations. Not telling people who to vote for. But helping people understand the issues, understand the candidates, and understand that showing up matters.

Don’t go blindly to the polls and vote for the Devil because doing research felt like too much trouble.

I’ve seen it happen. I reckon you have too.

So Here’s Where We Are

Friends, we are standing at a genuine crossroads. The 2026 midterm elections in Georgia — and across this great country — are going to determine whether the direction that began to turn in 2025 keeps on rolling, or whether somebody hits the brakes and throws it into reverse.

I know which way I’m hoping it goes. And I suspect you do too.

But hope without action is just wishful thinking. And wishful thinking doesn’t fill out a ballot.

Over the coming weeks, right here at Southern Fried Thoughts, we are going to walk through every single one of these races together. We’re going to talk about:

– 🔍 What these jobs actually do — because most folks couldn’t tell you what the Secretary of State is responsible for if you offered them a bowl of my mama’s gumbo as a prize

– 💰 Who’s funding whom — and what that probably means

– 🙏 How to research candidates with nothing more than an internet connection and a little bit of that old-fashioned Southern stubbornness

– 🗳️ Why your primary vote might be the most important vote you ever cast

– And yes, I’m going to make the case — chapter and verse — for why I believe Kandiss Taylor deserves to represent us (Georgia’s 1st Congressional District) in Washington. 

This is Part One. Consider it the opening bell. The first verse of the song. The first rung on the ladder.

The story is just getting started.

One Last Thing Before I Let You Go

I’m going to leave you with a question. Just one. Sit with it this week. Talk about it at the dinner table or the feed store or the deer stand or wherever good Georgians gather and speak plain truth to each other.

If the primaries were held tomorrow, could you name — right now, off the top of your head — one concrete, verified, researched reason to vote FOR your preferred candidate in each of these races?

Not against somebody. For somebody.

If the answer is no — and Lord knows it might be for most of us, because there’s a lot of names on these ballots we’ve barely heard — then friend, that is exactly why this series exists.

Come back. Bring a friend. Share this with your Sunday School class, your hunting buddies, your neighbor who always talks about how much she hates politicians but never misses voting in the general.

Because here’s the truth, simple as cornbread:

The people who don’t vote in the primaries still have to live with whoever wins them.

And that, my Southern-fried friends, is the cliffhanger.

Part Two is coming. And we’re going to start following that money.

If this stirred something in you — even a little — share it. Forward it. Print it out and stick it on the refrigerator. And if you want to be notified when Part Two drops, shoot me an email at dean@southernfriedthoughts.com . The sweet tea’s always cold and the conversation’s always hot.

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