Generation I
We used to refer to eras and ages, whether it involved jazz or bobbysoxers, but along the way, we began giving names to entire generations.
We used to refer to eras and ages, whether it involved jazz or bobbysoxers, but along the way, we began giving names to entire generations. We’ve had the lost, the greatest, the baby boomers, the “me” generation, followed by Generation X, Y (millennials), Z and, starting over, Alpha.
I would insist that the one that has recently come of voting age should more appropriately be designated the I’s, the letter representing the qualities I most identify with them…ignorance, infantilism and idiocy.
How else to explain their preference for Socialism over Capitalism or their rapture over Bernie Sanders and their contempt for Donald Trump? I attribute it to their total ignorance when it comes to economics, history and current events.
Of course, a lot of it can be explained by the fact they were raised by over-tolerant parents who saw to it that their offspring never lacked self-esteem, but never required that the youngsters did anything to earn it. The kids were awarded cups and ribbons for merely showing up and treated like babies whenever their feelings were bruised or someone took exception to their foolish, baseless opinions.
They were taught how to put a condom on a banana, but never told what makes America unique and special. Instead, they were fed a load of politically correct tripe that blacks, illegal aliens, gays, transgenders and native Americans, were entitled to more rights and laxer laws than they or their parents, all because others who came before them had suffered. They surely haven’t been taught that certain things, such as money, homes and businesses, can be inherited; whereas some things, such as pain, grief and entitlements, can’t.
It didn’t help that, thanks to a thriving economy and an all-volunteer military, they have never had their mettle tested as were those who gave birth to the baby boomers. There’s nothing like a decade-long Depression and a World War to instill a sense of gratitude and an awareness that things can go to hell in a nanosecond if people take their eye off the ball.
Finally, nobody – certainly not their teachers, the media or their parents – has bothered to help them grasp the miracle of being born an American, a baby born with inalienable rights – one of which used to be the right to be born in the first place.
I thought I was finished writing about the movies of 2019, but that was before I got around to watching “Richard Jewell.” It was among the DVDs the studios sent out in December, but I had put it aside, thinking I wouldn’t care to see it. I tend not to be very interested in movies that recreate events I have lived through.
What piqued my interest was that it was directed by Clint Eastwood. Generally, Hollywood heaps praise and awards on his movies, tending to ignore his politics in a way they don’t with other conservatives. But the Academy bestowed only a single Oscar nomination on his latest film and that was for Kathy Bates in the Best Supporting Actress category. (She lost to Laura Dern for “Marriage Story,” a movie I wouldn’t see if you paid me.)
I found it totally engrossing even though it ran on for well over two hours. A lot of it was because of the performance by a guy named Paul Walter Hauser in the title role. He captured the essence of a man who longed more than anything in the world to be a member of law enforcement and wound up having his heart broken when the FBI teamed up with a corrupt media to turn his act of heroism on its head, portraying him as a monster.
It was 1996, while working as a security guard at Atlanta’s Centennial Olympic Park, that Jewell noticed a suspicious-looking bag under a bench. He called it to the attention of the police and it turned out to be large pipe bomb. He warned the NBC crew in a nearby tower and then, working with the local cops, Jewell started pushing the crowd back from the bomb site.
Unfortunately, the bomb exploded before the area could be completely cleared. One woman was killed, about a hundred other people were injured.
But the death toll would have been in the hundreds if not for Jewell’s diligence.
Unfortunately, without the slightest bit of proof, the FBI decided that Jewell was the villain, not the hero, of the piece. They looked at this overweight loner who lived with his widowed mother and profiled him as just the sort of guy who would plant a bomb and then “discover” it so he could garner positive attention.
The FBI even stooped to trying to fool Jewell into signing a phony confession by pretending they admired him and wanted to use him in a training video in which he would be shown signing necessary documents. Fortunately, Jewell knew enough to read the small print.
The Bureau and their cohorts in the media turned what should have been the three most glorious months of the guy’s life into a living hell.
Richard Jewell died prematurely of a heart attack in 2006, but at least he lived long enough to hear a serial bomber named Eric Rudolph confess to the Atlanta bombing in 2005.
I suspect what appealed to Eastwood was the opportunity to give the FBI a well-deserved black eye. After what swamp creatures like Comey, McCabe, Strzok, Page and Ohr, have been up to, Clint no doubt saw a direct parallel between what the Bureau did to Richard Jewell and what these creeps have spent the last four years doing to Donald Trump.
It certainly explains why the movie, the director and the star, were all snubbed by the Motion Picture Academy. For that matter, it even explains why a lousy South Korean movie took home four major Oscars.
There is a rumor floating around on the Internet that suggests that Michael Bloomberg is considering making Hillary Clinton his running mate if he manages to buy the Democratic nomination.
Although I think her odious presence would only help Trump get re-elected, I think I can safely predict that Bloomberg would never invite her aboard.
For one thing, she’s a lousy campaigner, as she proved in 2016; for another, she is probably the most despised woman in America.
If Bloomberg ever has occasion to name a number two, it’s likely to be a woman. If he believes he needs to shore up his ticket with a black, it would likely be Kamala Harris; otherwise, it could be Amy Klobuchar, who gives the New Yorker some geographical balance in a place where he’d need it, the rust belt.
I don’t know why Tucker Carlson continues to spend several minutes of his show every Thursday on a news quiz pitting two Fox News personalities against each other, but I find the way the segment is handled so annoying that I was moved to write the following letter to someone named Irena Briganti, who seems to be the person in charge of complaints.
“I’m not sure why Mr. Carlson persists in spending time on these mini-quiz shows, but he should at least play fair. It’s bad enough when midway through a game, the judges change the rules making certain questions worth two points to give the person trailing a chance to catch up. It would be like the referee deciding that because one football team is trailing by 21 points at halftime, each touchdown will count for 14 points in the second half.
"It was particularly obnoxious last night when Lou Dobbs had two points, missed a two-pointer, and was still shown to have one point. As a result, he wound up defeating Mark Steyn when he got the tie-breaker correct.
"Understand, I didn’t have money on the game. I like both men. But fair is fair; if one player is leading 4-0 after four questions, don’t suddenly make the fifth question a four-pointer.
"Also, get a judge who knows that two-minus-two is not one.”
My favorite cartoon of the week was one by Mark Harris showing Adam Schiff suggesting to Jerry Nadler: “What if we charged him with obstruction of impeachment?”
