… That’s what I said, “Spy pigeon jailed in India.” You are not having an acid flashback. News sources say the James Bondish bird was apprehended by authorities in Manwal, two miles from the Pakistani border.
Most leftists operate in a haze of hypocrisy, blinded by a total lack of self-awareness. They preach sanctimoniously to the rest of us about how we should lead our lives, usually without a compulsion to lead their lives in similar fashion. The “rules” they generate and enforce through intimidation, fear and often the force of government, are for the rest of us suckers. Case in point: Democrats trying to stick us with the horrors of Obamacare while demanding exemptions for their political cronies — and for themselves.
My family loves movies. We lived in New York City, until I was six, so among my earliest memories are family trips to the movies to see Yellow Submarine by the Beatles, at Radio City Music Hall, and trips to see Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid and Where Eagles Dare, with Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood.
Most Lebanese, including the younger generations, have repetitively heard the official story of the “liberation of the south by Hezbollah” in May 2000, a “coup” that prompted the Lebanon-based Khomeinist organization to seize power across the land and throughout the country’s institutions.
On Friday, May 22, the front page of the Times had the story of yet another promising young black man killed in a gang shootout in N.J. and an article on the head of the Boy Scouts calling for an end to their ban on gay leadership. On page 14, after pages of articles on shifting views about reporting sex abuse in Britain, extended talks between the US and Cuba, dogs splitting from wolves earlier than previously thought - finally, came the story of a young family and their housekeeper tortured, slaughtered and set afire in their home in Washington, D.C. The headline said “Arrest is Reported in Washington Killings,” and the article reported that the case was cracked by finding the killer’s DNA on a slice of pizza he had ordered while the massacre was underway.
News Item 5/5/15: At Rancho High School in Las Vegas, during an immigration roundtable, former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton said “believe it or not, when I was growing up in the Chicago area, it was farm fields as far as the eye could see.”
Competing with the WSJ’s coup in first publicizing the Asian Tiger Mom, the Times has captured Wednesday Martin, an anthropologist whose subject has been the super-rich slender mothers of the upper east side. She has also covered the same demographic in London but for the interest of their local readers, the Times has focused on the “Poor Little Rich Women” of the upper east side who have been coined by Ms. Martin with the cliche’d acronym Glam SAHMS - glamorous stay at home moms. (SundayReviewNYT5/17) From the pictures on her website, we see that Wednesday has obviously learned a thing or two from her life among the savages - the best place to get her hair colored, where to buy de rigeur high heels and brightly colored sleeveless dresses and how to get a professional make-up job before embarking on a public relations campaign. Despite her insistence that she was up front with her subjects about writing a book, she clearly felt the need to look just like the women she was preparing to eviscerate.
Tens of thousands of deleted emails. Eighteen-and-a-half minutes of missing tape. As one who worked closely with former President Nixon during the last years of his life, I find the comparisons between him and former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton to be insulting — to Nixon.
Sister Helen Prejean, the Roman Catholic nun who has made her career campaigning against capital punishment and ministering to those on death row, spent five visits with Boston bomber Dzhokar Tsarnaev and testified that he had “sympathy for his victims.” Despite evidence to the contrary revealed during the trial at which the killer sat impassively, registering no emotion at the anguish of victims and their families, Sister Helen sensed pain in Tsarnaev’s voice and could feel his sincerity when he said that “no one deserves to suffer like they did.” The question, as Hillary Clinton famously said, is what difference does it make?
The well-worn adage goes “History is written by the victors”. That is, the nation that wins a war provides the facts that compose the history books. But the Vietnam War is an exception. In this case the loser, the United States, provides posterity with most of the information about the 1964-1975 conflict that cost 56,000 American and 1.5 million Vietnamese lives.
Back when Republican Mayor Rudolph Giuliani threatened to cut off municipal funds to the Brooklyn Museum for an exhibition that included, among other controversial works, a collage of the Virgin Mary made by Chris Ofili from pornographic magazine images and shellacked clumps of elephant dung, the NYTimes ran several columns defending the freedom of art to offend. This is from Michael Kimmelman’s Critic’s Notebook: Cutting Through Cynicism in Art Furor (NYT9/24//99): “In the end, there can be no underestimating the genuine pain that works like those in “Sensations” can cause people, most particularly Christians who may find the art world’s refined justifications for Mr. Ofili and his colleagues inadequate, if not callous. Roman-Catholics, Italian-Americans and white Anglo-Saxon Protestants, among others, sometimes argue that they are treated by artists as acceptable targets while certain other groups are taboo. And it is a fair question: would the defenders of art react the same if the offending image were of Rosa Parks rather than the Virgin Mary? But no race or issue is actually untouchable in the arts.”
As a Washington columnist, I covered and got to know Jim Wright and his wife, Betty, during the final 20 years of the 34 he served in Congress culminating with his 1989 resignation in the midst of accusations of ethics violations. I once had the pleasure of introducing him when he was a guest speaker at the Women’s National Democratic Club in 1993. Former House Speaker Jim Wright died today at 92.
Call me a sap. But my heart bleeds for people handing out stuff on the street. Talk about a tough job. The public ignores me, too, but I don’t have to watch them do it. These poor folk have to stand there, like a rock dividing a stream, while indifferent humanity flows around them, spurning whatever pathetic scrap they’re trying to give away, inevitably some green flier about a barbershop opening or a new deli.