In praise of window locks and border walls

train
The Criminal Special: Central Americans ride the rails through Mexico.

NATIONS NEED border walls because a nation is a family, and families are good things, so nations are good things too, the concept.

Nations, like regular family units, are groups of people connected by race, religion, history, language and culture. Some families are dysfunctional, and some nations are dysfunctional. Those latter are the ones President Trump allegedly labeled “shitholes.”

A bit harsh but correct in some cases.

The dysfunctional families and nations are dysfunctional not so much due to race but to a troubled culture, religion and history. Some cultures are superior to others, sometimes far superior. How do you grade a culture, giving it an A-plus, a C or an F?

Its grade depends on the lifestyle it provides its people. Thus, Haiti gets an F, Bolivia gets a D and Canada, Australia and New Zealand get an A. Due to the problem the United States created for itself centuries ago with the slavery thing and now its blowback, it gets a B on average though some states get an A (Texas), and others get a C-minus (California).

If you’ve got a well-functioning nation (or family), which depends, as we have already established, on race, religion, language, history and culture, you must exercise caution when people from other nations (or families) want to move into the house with you.

Sweden had an A-plus culture for a long time. They were a homogeneous people with a common culture, language, etc. Sweden then decided it would be a swell idea to open its borders to hordes of people from the Middle East, no questions asked.

Sweden is now known as the “Rape Capital of Europe.” This should come as no surprise when you consider they invited into their midst a staggeringly different culture, one that suppresses women and embraces an extremist, macho religion.

Sweden shot itself in the head with an AR-15. In the name of multiculturalism.

If you’ve got a successful nation (or family), caution is in order before unlocking the door to your neighbors. That’s why border walls — and locks on your home windows — are very wise things. When Trump said he would build a wall, he also said it would have a “big beautiful door” for the deserving to enter. That latter part is seldom mentioned.

Mexico is very insulted by Trump’s border wall idea. How dare he? And yet millions of Mexicans have entered the United States illegally, so many that the culture in some parts of the United States seems more like Mexico than the United States.

And to add the proverbial insult to injury, Mexico lets Central Americans enter through its southern border, hoists them atop that famous train where they jump off near the Rio Bravo to swim, hike, tunnel and fence-climb into the United States.

How dare Trump suggest a wall? The man has such gall.

The United States already has many miles of border wall, but it needs lots more and even higher. Maybe a moat with gators. But Mexico needs a wall down south too. Sweden needed one, but it seems too late now. Sweden is a goner. R.I.P.

All nations need border walls if they want to maintain their integrity, and if the nation is a very successful one (great culture), the need for a wall grows exponentially.

* * * *

(Note: It is common knowledge that Jews and Asians are smarter than the rest of us. Do the Asian nations or Israel leave their doors wide open in the name of multiculturalism and diversity? Not on your life, Bub, proving their high IQ.)

Dental adventures

dentist
My child bride gets a root canal.

AS I’VE WRITTEN lately, we’ve been having dental adventures.

The most recent report was just a few days ago in the Good and Bad. And, previous to that, there was A Dental Day. I recently wound up the process of getting a tooth implant, the first of my life, and my child bride will soon start on four implants.

On Monday we dealt with an unrelated problem, one which required a root canal for her. Our regular dentist in the state capital referred us to a dental surgeon, the talented young woman shown in the photo.

Her given name is Nayelli.

While the procedure was under way, I watched from a comfy sofa in the corner, a nice touch you’d be hard pressed to find above the Rio Bravo. I was sipping a strawberry milk shake I’d purchased just down the street.

I tried not to make slurping sounds.

The root canal took less than 45 minutes, and my child bride’s now set to start the implants in two weeks.

The adventures continue.

The great escape

Steve McQueen made a “Great Escape” over a border. Me too!

WHEN I LEFT America in January 2000, I thought I was merely moving to another country to start a new adventure.

While that was true, what I did not realize at the time was that I, just like Steve McQueen in the photo above, was making my own Great Escape. But I wasn’t escaping from the Nazis. I was escaping from the United States.

When I hightailed it, things were fairly normal above the Rio Bravo. Bill Clinton was president. The economy was running well, and people were getting along pretty good.

There was no Black Lives Matter. There were no Antifa thugs running riot in the streets. There were no geriatric socialist presidential candidates. Conservative speakers were not tarred and feathered on university campuses.

There were no Safe Spaces, and public restrooms were either “Gentlemen” or “Ladies” or sometimes “Setters” and “Pointers.” Humor had not been banned.

Still standing were the World Trade Center in New York, Michael Brown and Trayvon Martin. And nobody outside Illinois had heard of Barack Hussein Obama.

Farther afield, there were no Mohammedan mobs being invited into European nations, nor to the United States either. Gays were not suing Mom & Pop bakeries over wedding cakes.

You got your porno on DVDs through the mail. It took some cash and effort. Nowadays it requires neither.

There was no Twitter, Facebook or iPhones.

Television dramas and sit-coms were not expected to kowtow to thought police. I read recently that the wildly popular sit-com Friends could not be made today, and it’s true.

The cast was all white. They poked fun at ethnic groups. The show’s crimes against PC were relentless, but nobody cared back then. We just laughed and laughed.

Seinfeld too would be verboten.

But the laughter has faded away. You must avoid saying certain true things, or you run a real risk of losing your job and/or friends and your social standing.

Everything went to the devil after I moved south. I’ve witnessed it exclusively via the internet, not in person.

Man, oh, man, I got out of there in the nick of time.

Watch your step

THERE’S A street project right off the main plaza downtown that’s been going on since last autumn, which is a long time because the renovation is just two lengthy blocks.

This project interests me, and I take a stroll by there almost every weekday after sitting at a sidewalk table with my Kindle and a café Americano negro.

In the United States, it would have been done far faster, and the entire work site would be blocked off so pedestrians and gawkers like me could not walk all over the place.

Around the workmen. Hopping over wet cement.

Here, no effort is made to keep pedestrians out of the work area, and none of the workers sports a hard hat. The main reason the project is taking so long is that there is little mechanized about it. It’s strictly manual labor.

If a passerby trips on something, falls and busts his noodle, he should have watched where he was going. He does not sue the city. We are not litigious that way.

The work started last year with an extensive excavation. New sewer and water lines were buried deep as were electric cables and wires in fat orange conduits.

Part of the reason the project is taking so long is the detail work, primarily on the sidewalks.

I should have photographed some of the detail, but I didn’t. This is fine rock work that will last a century.

There is sunken lighting for a nice nighttime look.

About the only nod to modernity are wheelchair ramps.

This photo shows the area where most of the stone is being worked to make it usable. It was a rose garden outside the church/hospital to the left before the renovation began.

Big stones are cut to size by hammer and chisel.

The scenes of the first two photos are at the end of the block down thataway, the far side.

We don’t have the reams of rules and regulations here that are so prevalent above the Rio Bravo, rules and regs made necessary by lawyers and government meddling. No environmental impact study was required.

Bugs were just squashed.

Here, if you need something done you hire some guys and do it. There are always guys available, plenty of idle hands of men who never grasped the need for schooling.

Just around the corner from the renovation I noticed this sign outside a tiny pharmacy. Look what you can have done. (Excuse the photos’ blurry edges. I had the camera set for that effect, but I did not notice till later.)

You can measure your blood sugar and blood pressure, or get a pap test.

You can get a medical certificate, maybe to get out of class. A problem with your toenails? No sweat.

A wound will be bandaged, and if you need an injection, they’ll stick you with the appropriate needle.

And all will cost next to nothing, and no pricey doctor reference is needed, but a doctor is likely there. Just go in, pay a buck or two if you want some medical advice or a prescription.

Living here is easy. Even if renovating a street takes forever. It will last forever after it’s finished.