The camel is out of the barn. He did not do anything great at the city of Miami and he's not going to do anything as a county commissioner. The people of distrcit# 7 elected the wrong person.
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So what in hell is up with the crazily ambitious 195-page book, A Unified Theory of God, Mind & Matter, published in 2005? The one that reads like scattershot Kierkegaard, junior professor, and sesquipedalian starched shirt? The one that's ranked around 2,770,082 on the Amazon Bestsellers list?
After his mayoral career ended abruptly, Suarez says, he filled his free time with writing while restarting his law practice. And trying to solve the mysteries of the universe. Six years ago, he released the result: an aggregation of his thoughts on physics, religion, God, and science. Suarez calls it his "theory of everything."
Over his tuna salad at Habana Vieja — just down the block from La Cuevita — Suarez tries to explain. It all started with lunches with a favorite godfather named Ignacio, he says, the "last true polymath mind I ever knew." They'd discuss everything from architecture to algebra. Suddenly faced with a life outside politics, Suarez wanted to answer the big questions himself.
"So I one-upped Stephen Hawking," he says, munching on a cracker.
Alas, the book is so unreadably dense it's difficult to say if he's right. (Want to tackle this sentence to see if the secrets of the universe are inside? "The mentioned third saltation in the order of things, from elementary particles to complex cells, is the one that has... advanced the concept of irreducible capacity." No? Didn't think so.)
"Elementary particle cells" aren't the only things to worry about with Suarez's return to politics. County records show that dozens of developers contributed to his $200,000 campaign war chest — from GOP kingmaker (and frequent ethics-rules skirter) Sergio Pino to megamall pusher Jeff Berkowitz to magnate Mark Siffin, whose attempts to build a 40-story digital billboard near the Adrienne Arsht Center were recently rebuffed.
When the commission inevitably considers allowing homes to be built in the Everglades yet again, whose interests will Suarez be looking out for? "I'm mostly interested in affordable-housing developers," he says. "Those other guys, they only started giving me money when it became obvious I was going to win."
After lunch, Suarez asks for a quick detour out of the parking lot to drive through a nearby intersection. "You see that?" he asks, shaking his head. "They need a four-way stop there. The neighbors say somebody's going to get killed really quick."
Moments like that provide some hope. As one of 13 commissioners, he might just look out for his constituents. But then Suarez gets a distant look in his eyes. He's got bigger plans than street signs.
"I'm working on an evolution book now that I'll soon publish, and I'm already starting my next one, to unify a bunch of different economic theories. I'm dabbling in media. I'm hoping to start a nonprofit," Suarez reveals, his sonorous voice growing more excited. "These next two books, they're going to one-up de Tocqueville and Darwin."