Sober view of Trump

“It’s almost as if Don Rickles were running for president.”

FORMER FOX NEWS star Bill O’Reilly writes books now and then, and they’re always big sellers. But I’d never bought one till now. His latest is The United States of Trump, and it’s a goodie, a sober look at the phenomenon in the Oval Office.

trumpIt’s a 320-page history, neither pro nor con, as objective a view as you’ll find, of Donald John Trump, his childhood, the ups and downs of his real estate empire, his family life, his The Apprentice fame and finally his spectacular leap into politics.

Love him — as I do — or hate him, it’s a well-written and informative bio. O’Reilly looks at Trump’s pluses and minuses, his touchy personality, his love life, the near collapse of his real estate empire in the 1980s, its resurgence in the 1990s, his driving ambition, his tendency to steamroll opposition, his love of self. You name it, O’Reilly addresses it.

O’Reilly, clearly a conservative but who claims to be an independent, is what journalists are supposed to be, but so rarely are anymore, objective. Believe it.

The quote at top is O’Reilly’s. He is referring to Trump’s 2016 race, a campaign that shoved the boundaries of normally accepted presidential standards of behavior onto new ground, a territory where gravitas does not exist, where only victory matters.

Buy it. Read it. You won’t regret it. Thank me later.

Inundation of irony

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Mexicans yelling at Central Americans to go back where they came from.

I HAVE LONG preached that promoting multiculturalism is a recipe for mayhem. Examples of this age-old truth are in plain view all over the world and have been since the dawn of mankind.

We ignore it at our peril.

People are tribal. There are many tribes. One of the main ones is the nation-state. Other tribes are that of religion, language and culture. These tribes often overlap. We prefer the company of people like ourselves.

Foggy-headed leftists fight this truth as they dream of one world, no borders, and sing Kumbaya. Oh, Lord, Kumbaya. Everyone will live in harmony.

Though they never, ever have.

Above you see Mexicans in Tijuana who are unhappy, to put it mildly, at the invasion of Central Americans. They want them to beat feet back where they came from. I pray you see the knee-deep irony.

* * * *

I just finished a fascinating book that relates to this topic. Its title is Enoch Was Right: “Rivers of Blood” 50 Years On. That would be the brilliant British parliamentarian Enoch Powell who famously delivered a speech on April 20, 1968, in which he eloquently warned of the danger of uncontrolled immigration from nations that are drastically different from Great Britain.

The Establishment reviled him. Today, dangerous, ethnic ghettos abound in Great Britain full of folks maintaining the ways of their tribes back in Syria, Kenya, Sudan, etc., and Brits are arrested, prosecuted and imprisoned for complaining about it in public.

Let us pause now for another verse of Kumbaya.

Or perhaps not.

Church work

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Scaffolds abut the church as guys do the much-needed renovation.

ABOUT A DECADE back, folks knocked on the gate and asked for a contribution to construct a short bridge over a ravine a few blocks down our street.  It would have solved a serious traffic glitch, so we kicked in 200 pesos.

The work on the bridge began, but it never finished, and remains undone to this day. The traffic glitch lives on.

A couple of months ago, folks again knocked on the gate and asked for a contribution to renovate the church. They asked for lots more, 2,000 pesos, about $115 U.S.

My wife mentioned what happened to the last money we contributed for neighborhood projects. Oh, no, this time it will happen, the folks declared.

Being community-minded and knowing the 500-year-old church on the plaza was on the point of collapse, we handed over the cash, mentally kissing it vaya con diós.

But religious projects trump street work any day hereabouts, so the church renovation is under way, and I have no doubt it will be completed. I am glad even though I am neither Catholic nor Christian. Architecture matters.

In the almost 15 years we’ve lived in our hardscrabble barrio, and the thousands of times we’ve walked the plaza, I imagine we have not stepped through the church doors more than five or six times. The same cannot be said of our neighbors. The church is the focal point of the community.

The weddings and funerals we witness there are numerous. There is no priest in residence, so masses are sporadic.

One cannot help but wonder why the Pope, who is likely richer than Bill Gates, Raul Castro and Carlos Slim combined, does not finance the renovation of his churches, leaving it sometimes to unbelievers like myself.

While walking the plaza this morning, I also shot the photo below. An old, beat-up VW Beetle and an old Chevy Pop like the one we owned from 2000 to 2014. I wonder how often one sees these old Beetles above the Rio Bravo now.

They’re quite common down here even though Mexico halted production in 2003.

cars
History survives in many forms.