Immigration & Other Pesky Problems
There’s no two ways about it, immigration has been the source of many of America’s problems ever since President Reagan signed the amnesty bill, allowing 3.5 million illegal aliens to remain in the U.S.
There’s no two ways about it, immigration has been the source of many of America’s problems ever since President Reagan signed the amnesty bill, allowing 3.5 million illegal aliens to remain in the U.S. Reagan did so because he took the congressional Democrats at their word when they promised to build a wall at the southern border.
All these years later, it is hard to imagine why the man who famously said “trust, but verify” when dealing with Russia would have allowed himself to be sucker-punched by the likes of Speaker of the House Thomas “Tip” O'Neill. But he was, and 31 years later, the country is still paying for the fact that the IOU was never paid.
But there are a couple of good signs on the horizon. The first is that Trump seems to be sincere in his promise of building a wall. The second is that Senators Tom Cotton of Arkansas and David Perdue of Georgia have sponsored a bill bearing the two-ton name, Reforming American Immigration for Strong Employment, just so they could refer to it as RAISE. Which, to my mind, is not so catchy that it makes up for its actual name being as unwieldy as a pregnant elephant.
Still, there is a lot to like in the bill itself. For one thing, it would mean we’d stop throwing the doors open to Latinos who want to smuggle drugs, collect welfare or provide restaurant, hotel and farm, owners, with a cheap work force, and the Democrats with millions of potential voters.
Instead, it would place a premium on foreigners who can speak English, possess genuine skills and display the entrepreneurial spirit. What’s more, it would limit those who could piggyback their way into America to spouses and children, and no longer provide a pathway to uncles, aunts, cousins, grandparents and next-door neighbors.
Our immigration policies are so inept that we only recently learned that a program that was used to lure foreigners who could provide special talents, such as the ability to translate Mandarin and Farsi, into the military with the promise of citizenship, was so loosely vetted that some number of the 10,000 in its ranks have now disappeared under the radar, their current whereabouts unknown to military or civilian authorities.
My suggestion is that both Congress and the Pentagon quit relying on non-citizens. When I was living in northern California in the 80s, the Army had a facility in Monterey, adjacent to Fort Ord, where recruits were taught foreign languages. I suspect it still exists, and that Farsi and Mandarin are still on the curriculum.
As bad as that is, even more shocking is the fact that your tax dollars are being used to promote jihadism on our college campuses, thanks to Title VI of the Higher Education Opportunity Act (HEOA?).
Allegedly created to reflect a wide range of views, in practice, it only promotes pro-Muslim, anti-Israel, propaganda.
To his credit, Trump’s proposed budget cuts Title VI from $72 million down to zero. With the support in Congress for all things Islamic, it couldn’t hurt to let your congressman know how you feel about this.
Whatever your party affiliation, I think Chicago deserves a resounding “attaboy” from every American. I don’t believe I am the only person who assumed that there was no way that the Windy City could possibly out-do itself after its record-shattering marks in 2016. But, there’s no arguing with facts. In July, alone, 79 homicides were committed in the city Rahm Emanuel is proud to call home. That brought the year’s total to 409, with five months still remaining. In the annual office pool, I think anyone who settles for any number less than 700 is being foolish.
The other day, I had lunch with a friend named Harry, who admitted to me that back in the 50s, he had a blind date with a fellow Cornell student named Ruth Bader. That was obviously prior to her marrying Martin Ginsburg. Harry recalled that she was not only homely, but quite unpleasant. It seems that some people never really change, they simply get older and more wrinkly.
Her loss. Instead of having to settle for a tax attorney, if she’d played her cards right, she might have wound up with a Jewish doctor.
Speaking of which, W.H. Thayer sent me a summary of every Jewish holiday: “They tried to kill us. We won. Let’s eat.”
Another reader let me know that he was bothered when someone referred to the recently dismissed White House Communications Director Anthony Scaramucci as Italian-American. “I thought he was just an American.”
I replied that it always annoys me when Americans are hyphenated for any reason. I have always believed that our national motto, e pluribus unum (from many, one) means what it says. It seems to me that if we’re supposed to be embarrassed by bad people who share our paricular heritage, whether they’re Al Capone, or Bernie Madoff, we should be equally reluctant when it comes to claiming kinship to people like Joe DiMaggio or Jonas Salk.
Like the word “justice,” “American” doesn’t require a modifier.
If because of my name, people question my heritage, I mention Russian-Jewish, but I prefer identifying myself as an American because I can’t imagine anything better.
In fact, I generally think that hyphens should only be used as punctuation to separate a complex word. What purpose, after all, is served by the Florida congresswoman Debbie using a hyphen between Wasserman and Schultz, except to bring shame to two families instead of just one?
The following joke comes your way, courtesy of Peter Wick of Woodbridge, CA. It skirts the current guidelines, but I think it’s suitable for mature audiences. If you disagree, let him know about it. After all, how many Peter Wicks can there be in Woodbridge, CA?
A pastor was about to finish his tour of duty as a missionary in the jungles of Africa. Just as he was about to leave, it occurred to him that he had never even attempted to teach his parishioners English.
In the short time remaining, he decided to take the tribal chief on a short walk into the jungle and teach him a few basic words. He pointed to a tree and said to the chief, “This is a tree.”
The chief looked, nodded and repeated: “Tree.”
They walked a few more steps and the missionary said: “This is a rock.”
The chief looked and repeated: “Rock.”
When he heard a strange rustling in the underbrush, the pastor peeked over a bush and found a couple of natives having sex. Flustered, he turned and told the chief: “Man riding a bicycle.”
Curious, the chief took a quick peek. He then whipped out his blowgun and killed them both.
The pastor was shocked to his core. “I’ve spent years teaching your people to be civilized and to live according to the word of the Lord. How could you simply kill those two people in cold blood?”
The chief simply shrugged and replied: “Man riding my bicycle.”
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