Miscellany
Things are beginning to pile up at this end, so it’s time to unload. But before I do, I would like to ask a favor.
Things are beginning to pile up at this end, so it’s time to unload. But before I do, I would like to ask a favor. No matter how fascinating you think it is, please don’t forward me any more videos or articles. One, they fill up my in-box; two, I am always disappointed when I open an email from a reader and instead of a comment or a question, it’s just something you’re passing along. I appreciate the thought, but I nearly always delete the stuff, so better you should save yourselves the trouble.
Besides, if one person sends along a video or an article, I know I am likely to receive the same item from three or four or more other people.
I am still open to jokes, memes, cartoons and, as I say, comments or questions.
One of my readers let me know she agreed with one of my recent attacks on Liberals, writing: “It’s amazing how blind they are. Saul Alinsky was an effective brain-washer! Look at how many people have bought into his methods.”
“Starting, but certainly not ending,” I replied, “with Hillary Clinton, who, at an early age, had her brains scrubbed clean and spin-dried by the fool who dedicated one of his demonic books to Satan.
"You can force-feed geese, but generally not people, unless, of course, your side controls the schools and the media. That’s where the Left beats us every time. They always have their eye on their distant goal, which is ultimately complete control of the nation. Our side never seems to think beyond the next election.”
Recently, as some of you may have noticed, I was knocked offline. It explains why it took me so long to respond to email and why, one day, I wasn’t able to post an article until the middle of the afternoon.
It was extremely frustrating, some of which I ascribe to the fact that I knew the email was piling up by the hour and that, as the disruption ran into the second day, people would either assume I was dead, in the hospital or ignoring them.
That led me to wonder why it is that computers are unable to alert people that there has been an interruption of service. Can’t they come up with the equivalent of a telephone’s busy signal? Perhaps if they could call it an app and charge an extra dollar a month, they’d give it some thought.
I don’t think President Trump will ever get his wall built. That’s because the Democrats don’t want anything to interfere with the flood of potential voters streaming across the border, and too many Republicans are terrified of being labeled racists. As for Trump’s national emergency executive order, that is likely to be tied up in the courts for a number of years.
I believe President Trump would be well-advised to take a cue from Hungary where they’ve come up with a barrier that would be better than a 30-foot high wall that merely requires a 31-foot ladder to breech it.
The Hungarians, under the leadership of President Viktor Orban, who has even less use for Muslims than I do, has erected a 14-foot double-line fence with a road running between the two lines, making it easy for border guards to patrol. The fences are 14-feet high and include several layers of razor-wire capable of delivering electric shocks. The barrier features cameras, heat sensors and loudspeakers ready to warn migrants they’re about to break the law and will have to face dire consequences.
Prior to the fences going up, over 6,000 illegals were entering the country every day. The day after, the number was down to 870. Over the next month, the number declined to less than 40.
It’s too bad that Congress refuses to deal with the problem, which would start with the announcement that we are not accepting refugees from south of the border. No hearings, no judges, no internments. We’ve accepted well over 20 million, and we’re not taking any more. It’s the equivalent of saying, “We gave at the office.”
They can go to South America or they can remain in Mexico. Nothing personal. We’re sure they’re all as honest and hard-working as Nancy Pelosi and her stooges claim they are, but, if so, they should stay home and raise the honesty quotient and devote all that hard work to turning Honduras, Guatemala and El Salvador, countries where the natives actually want to live.
After I recently complained about the tedium of taking cruises, I heard from a kindred spirit, Bruce Bass, who wrote to say he had gone on a couple of cruises “to placate my lovely wife, but I felt like I was imprisoned on a rowboat.”
I observed: “Although I know a few guys who claim they’ve enjoyed the experience, I believe that cruises would go the way of buggy whip manufacturers and high button shoes if it weren’t for women. Women seem to love being aboard ships. Maybe it’s a carryover from all those romantic movies starring the likes of Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr, Paul Henreid and Bette Davis, Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet or Charles Boyer and Irene Dunne.
Or perhaps it’s the fact that for a few days at least, the ladies pretty much have the undivided attention of their mates, inasmuch as sports on TV and golf at the club are out of the question. Also, it gives women the chance to dress up every night for dinner and get their husbands to do the same.
For men, the upside is that for the next few years any time the spouse asks them to do something, actually anything, around the house, they get to say: "Give me a break. Didn’t I just take you on a cruise?”
Joe Neuner sent me a capsule summary of a man’s life. It doesn’t have the same gloss and symmetry as Shakespeare’s “Seven Ages of Man,” but it conveys the same basic truth.
Two guys grow up together, but after college one of them moves to Michigan, the other to Florida. They agree to keep in touch and to meet every 10 years to play golf in Vero Beach.
At age 30, they finish their round of golf and decide to go for lunch.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Hooters.”
“Why?”
“Well, you know, they got the broads with the big boobs and the tight shorts and the…”
“Okay.”
Ten years later, they play another round and again the visitor asks where they should lunch, and again his friend says “Hooters.”
“Why?”
“Well, you know, they got cold beer on tap, the big screen TVs and everybody has a little action on the games.”
“Okay.”
At age 50, it all starts up again with “Why Hooters?”
“The food is pretty good and there’s plenty of parking.”
At 60, the exchange goes “Why Hooters?”
“The wings are half price on Friday.”
At 70, the response to “Why Hooters?” is “They have six handicap spaces right by the front door.”
At 80, the out-of-towner asks his friend where he suggests they have lunch.
“Hooters.”
“Why Hooters?”
“Because we’ve never been there before.”
When my friend Dick Barry sent me a smorgasbord of really stupid lies prominent Democrats have told over the past week, I replied: “The truth hurts. I suppose that’s why Democrats try so hard to avoid it.”
