All Marjorie Taylor Greene ever wanted was someone to pay attention to her.
ALPHARETTA, GEORGIA.—Marjorie Taylor Greene smacked her gum as she pretended to listen to a man in a dress read a book about a unicorn.
It was late April of 2019. She sat in the rear of a room at the public library here near her home in this suburb north of Atlanta. Greene at the time identified as a mother, a business owner, a fitness trainer, a “supporter of the 2nd amendment,” “a patriot” and a “conservative blogger on social media,” and she had come to mount what she described as an “undercover” protest of something called “Drag Queen Story Hour”—an event she saw as “insane” put on by a person she considered “an abomination.” Using her iPhone to surreptitiously record, Greene flipped back and forth between a shot of the stage and a close-up of her own face, creating a kind of herky-jerky show on Facebook Live.
“Be nice to people around you!” the wig-wearing reader, stage name Miss Terra Cotta Sugarbaker, said in closing to the small gathering of children and their parents. Greene, sporting a pink cast on her left foot, hobbled outside. “Were you able to hear all that?” Greene asked the 400 or so viewers following along. Continue reading.