Fred Reed and T.S. Eliot

By Nicholas Stix In a brilliant column Fred published the other day on scientific knowledge and scientific ignorance (a tip ‘o the hat to Steve Sailer), Reed worked in a nifty allusion to one of Eliot’s most famous (and to my mind, his single best) poems. See if you can find it.

Multicultural Policing

By Nicholas Stix In New York City on July 22, 31-year-old Bernard Marti was arrested and charged with shooting a 23-year-old patron in the thigh at Cordato’s Restaurant in Greenwich Village. According to police reports, Marti and the patron had reportedly been arguing over which Spanish-speaking country was superior. The victim knocked over Marti’s beer, apologized, ordered him another one, and then slapped that one away, spilling it all over Marti. Marti then pulled his gun, the victim sought to slap it away, Marti shot the younger man, and fled the premises for his car. Witnesses pointed out Marti to nearby police. Bernard Marti is a community affairs officer in the NYPD’s 25th Precinct in Harlem. Marti told police that he was an officer, thinking they would let him go, but they arrested him, anyway. Marti’s colleagues at the multicultural precinct said he was a swell guy. Police officers posting to an NYPD message board said that it was crazy to go out for a drink wearing one’s weapon, but they were obviously racists who failed to understand Latin police culture.

Roman Polanski: Crime Pays!

By Nicholas Stix Convicted pedophile-rapist and fugitive from justice Roman Polanski just got away with one … again. But he had help. The London High Court awarded the convicted fugitive $88,000 in a libel lawsuit. Traditionally, in the English–speaking world, no court would hear a libel or defamation case brought by a convict, much less a fugitive convict, but we live in a brave, new world. In 1978, Polanski was convicted of having sex with a 13-year-old girl at Jack Nicholson’s house. Polanski lured his victim, 13-year-old Samantha Geimer (who has since revealed her identity), a young model, to a “photo-shoot” for French Vogue at his friend Jack Nicholson’s house. Conveniently, Nicholson was away at the time. Polanski plied his victim with champagne and quaaludes, and then raped her, afterwards telling her not to tell her mother. The crime was clearly plotted out, and was as sleazy as any attack committed by a phony “talent agent” on a desperate, young, would-be model. The only aspect of the crime that did not fit the profile, was that the victim was only 13 years old, and without any parent or adult guardian present to protect her. What could her parents have been thinking? Polanski was charged with rape of a minor, rape by use of a drug, committing a lewd act upon a person less than 14 years of age, oral copulation, sodomy and furnishing drugs to a minor. He copped a plea to unlawful sex with a minor, but fled the country on the eve of his sentencing hearing. Polanski’s crime was not statutory rape. According to the laws in California (and the rest of the Union), the victim has to be of a certain age before she can be considered able to voluntarily form a decision to have sex with an adult, at which point the incident can be classified statutory rape. If you sleep with a 13-year-old, you’re guilty of first-degree rape, just as if Polanski had used violence. (Screen “historian” Leonard Maltin misrepresented the case. In a passage reprinted at Polanski’s biography page at imdb.com from Maltin’s 1994 Movie Encyclopedia, he claimed, “He was embroiled in a scandal over having sex with an underage model in 1977; rather than face the charges, he chose to flee the country.” No, Mr. Maltin; he had already pled guilty. Rather than face punishment, he chose to flee the country.) The genius judge in the case permitted Polanski to remain out on bail. The pedophile-rapist then fled the country for our alleged ally, France, where he has remained ever since. The French have great reservoirs of understanding for pedophile-rapists – as long as they committed their crimes in America. In 2003, in an attempt apparently at removing any ambiguities the public might have had about Hollywood’s respect for morality, law, or childhood, the movie fraternity awarded Polanski an Oscar for best director for The Pianist. The crowd at the Academy Awards show gave the convict a standing ovation, in absentia. For some reason, Polanski did not appear to collect his statuette. (That moral paragon, Harrison Ford, accepted it for him.) Oh, yes, now I remember. Had he appeared, he would have been arrested on the spot, and taken off to prison. And since he had violated the terms of the pleas bargain, all six charges would be back in play, plus a charge of flight from justice. Polanski could conceivably have spent the rest of his natural life in prison. But Polanski wasn’t satisfied with getting away with child-rape, flight from justice, or even with his soiled Oscar. He demanded respect for his good name. I kid you not. And so, when Vanity Fair magazine in 2002 published a story claiming that in 1969, the future pedophile-rapist and fugitive had “touched [Swedish model] Beatte Telle's leg and told her he would ‘make another Sharon Tate’ out of her in a New York restaurant shortly after Tate - his actress wife - had been murdered by followers of Charles Manson's cult,” that was just too much for Polanski’s finely-tuned sense of morality. He insisted that he had never touched Telle’s leg. And so he sued Vanity Fair in a British court. That should have been the end of it. After all, since we have an extradition treaty with the Brits, had Polanski set foot on British soil to press his case, he would have been scooped up by Scotland Yard, and sent, manacled (but not in a way that would have titillated him), on the next flight for the States. And so, the jurists should simply have dismissed Polanski’s suit as frivolous. The Crown’s courts wouldn’t possibly aid and abet a fugitive convict in his attempt to enrich himself, while evading justice … would they? Unfortunately for us and our cross-Atlantic cousins, the British courts suffer from some of the same maladies as our own. And so, after permitting the pedophile-rapist to testify from France via video hook-up, London’s High Court found for the convict-plaintiff. The judges brought shame on themselves, the London High Court, and the United Kingdom, which has earned the reputation as the libel lawsuit capital of the world, where the judges consider no lawsuit frivolous – as long as the plaintiff is wealthy. Although Beatte Telle refused to testify on Polanski’s behalf, she did publicly say that he had not touched her leg or even spoken to her in the restaurant, and had only stared, dumbstruck, at her. Apparently, her public statement did the trick for the alleged jurists. Since we now live in a multicultural, interconnected world, in which U.S. Supreme Court justices cite foreign laws in their opinions, the Polanski verdict has all kinds of interesting legal potential. Might we now see libel suits brought by, say, the Nation of Islam mass murderers -- J.C. Simon, Jesse Lee Cooks, Larry Green and Manuel Moore -- currently in prison for the early 1970s Zebra killings? How about Saddam Hussein? Ramsey Clark could bring suit against everyone who ever said nasty but unproven things about his client. The possibilities are endless.

London: Suicide Decoys and Humanitarian Terrorists?

'Peace Activists for Terrorism,' would have been a more accurate slogan on the signs carried by “peace activists” demonstrating outside the London tube (subway) station on Sunday where Brazilian electrician Jean Charles de Menezes had been shot to death by a London police officer on Friday.

Demonstrators (for once, that’s not a euphemism for “rioters”) gathered outside the station to condemn the shooting, and to call for police to refrain from ever using deadly force in dealing with individuals whom they believe to be terrorists about to blow up themselves and everyone in the vicinity. The bobby who shot Jean Charles de Menezes was under orders to take “head shots,” because a body shot, the usual procedure (because it offers the largest target), might set off the explosives under a suicide bomber’s coat. According to alleged reporter Teri Okita, in London for CBS’ New York affiliate, most of the demonstrators were immigrants and Muslims. It apparently didn’t occur to Okita (or she didn’t care) that if anything, Muslims and immigrants demonstrating against necessary anti-terrorism security measures after two coordinated attacks in two weeks, if taken seriously, will lead the British populace to infer that Muslims and immigrants are all either terrorists or their supporters. Were the London police to stop shooting people who act as Jean Charles de Menezes did, it would be music to terrorists’ ears. The one demonstrator whom Okida interviewed at length, and who condemned the British government, was Caoimhe Butterly. Okida didn’t give her viewers any background on Caoimhe Butterly. And with good reason. Caoimhe Butterly is a terrorist. Caoimhe Butterly is a postmodern, humanitarian terrorist. What that means is, she doesn’t (to my knowledge) fashion bombs or shoot people. She helps other people do that. Anywhere in the world, where she sees Western or Western-style democracies besieged by or at war with terrorists or Stalinists, she hops on a plane, to show up and give aid and comfort to the terrorists/Stalinists. Thus, she has helped Arab terrorists in Israel, and Saddam Hussein in Iraq. Now, she is trying to help al Qaeda in London. Caoimhe Butterly calls herself variously a “peace activist,” a “peace worker,” and “human rights” activist, but she no more believes in those things than I believe in Islam. When Stalinist dictator Saddam Hussein was murdering hundreds of thousands of his own people, Caoimhe Butterly did not go to Iraq to protest his barbarity; heck she didn’t even protest him from the safety of the West. But on the eve of Gulf II, she went to Iraq to act as a human shield. Similarly, she has never sought to act as a human shield to protect innocent Israeli Jews from Arab homicide bombers. Instead, she went to the territories, and sought to get Israeli soldiers killed by Arab terrorists. Her m.o. is to protect terrorists by standing in front of them, so that Israeli soldiers will be confused and inhibited by the sight of an unarmed woman, so that the soldiers can be killed either by the terrorists she is shielding or by other terrorists in the vicinity whom the soldiers do not notice, while they are being distracted by Caoimhe Butterly. The proper thing to do, as with any terrorist, would be to shoot her dead, but Caoimhe Butterly, like all terrorists (and totalitarians), uses her victims’ humanity against them. A soldier who killed her would likely be emotionally shattered. She also entered Yassir Arafat’s compound in Ramallah in 2002, donning a medic’s vest to disguise herself. Arab terrorists have for years used this method, to attack Israeli Jews using the ambulances of the Red Crescent, which is itself a dual purpose organization: ambulance service and terrorist front. In Israel, Caoimhe Butterly worked with the International Solidarity Movement (ISM), a humanitarian terrorist organization. The SMSM portrayed the ISM as a humanitarian peace organization, but as I showed at the time, its Web site openly supported terrorism against Jews. One of the ISM’s leaders, Adam Shapiro also donned a medic’s vest, in order to sneak into Arafat’s compound, as part of a coordinated publicity stunt with Caoimhe Butterly. Shapiro lied, claiming he had never before met Arafat, lied in calling himself a Jew, rather than admitting that he had repudiated Judaism years before, and lied in saying that he was a peace worker. I called him a “Jewish Nazi,” although one could argue that I was only half-right. Since he had repudiated Judaism, perhaps I should have only called him a Nazi. (See also “‘Pacifist's’ Brother Threatens Journalist” and “War is Peace: We are All Pacifists Now.” The ISM (Butterly, Shapiro, & Co.) acted not only as human shields, but sabotaged Israeli security barriers, in order to help Arab terrorists attack Israeli Jews. Under the traditional laws of war, saboteurs -- armed or no -- may be shot on sight. And Butterley was wounded in the thigh. Her propaganda cadres used her wounding to extol even more her heroism, instead of her sabotage and terrorism.

At the time, the ISM called on other nations to rise to the defense of the PLO and Arafat, and make war on Israel. Note that it was Arafat who planned and started the war, and who had no interest in peace. Caoimhe Butterly and Shapiro didn’t seek peace; they sought and still seek the annihilation of the Jews of Israel. But then, Hitler also claimed to be a pacifist. Caoimhe Butterly is a communist, and lying comes as naturally to a communist as it does to a Nazi. And thus, when she was in Israel, months after the Jenin blood libel had been exposed, she continued fabricating stories about a massacre in Jenin that had never occurred. Caoimhe Butterly could not do this alone, but she has for years been blessed with a cadre of leftwing propagandists posing as journalists. And so, “documentary film-maker” Katie Barlow, told so many lies on Caoimhe Butterly’s behalf in the pages of The Guardian, that it proved too much even for The Guardian’s editors. Not that they minded helping to spread the Jenin blood libel, but they could not abide Barlow’s exaggerating the number of armed Arab terrorists who accompanied Caoimhe Butterly on one of her jaunts in the territories. (Note that Butterly and Shapiro both use the identical cover story about having been influenced by the non-violent teachings of Gandhi and King.) In case you are wondering why a communist would so enthusiastically embrace Islamic terrorists and dictators, communists have always sought out any group that they see as opposed to capital, and seek to manipulate that group to die fighting their revolution for them. In America, communists started seeking to use blacks during the Great Depression, but didn’t enjoy much success until the 1960s, when blacks’ own political and religious leaders sold them out, for the leaders’ own wealth and power. About the same time, as Lee Harris has written, communists developed third world theory, in which they sought to conscript the entire world’s poor to fight their revolution. Ok, so the communists are atheistic materialists, the Arabs fighting the West tend to be wealthy aristocrats who seek to impose a medieval theocracy and enslave women. You can’t have everything. If her history is any guide, look for Caoimhe Butterly to go beyond non-violent demonstrations to more active support of al Qaeda, perhaps in the form of sabotage. As I wrote three years ago, real pacifists are almost as rare as virgins in a whorehouse. Suicide Decoys? If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it’s … not a duck? That is exactly what al Qaeda supporters in London are now insisting, in the wake of the police shooting of Jean Charles de Menezes. The police have announced that de Menezes was not a terrorist. Let’s see. De Menezes came out of a suspected terrorist lair, dressed in terrorist uniform: Shaved head, beard, heavy, padded, winter coat on a summer’s day. If he wasn’t a terrorist, he worked awfully hard to look like one. If you know that bad guys wear a certain “uniform,” don’t put on the same uniform, unless you are willing to accept the consequences. In America, we have had no end of trouble, over the past 15 or more years, due to middle-class black teenage boys and 20-something men’s obsession with looking like muggers. They find out the newest mugger’s uniform (during the late 1980s in New York, for instance, it was Oakland Raiders jackets, then it was baseball caps worn backwards; since I don’t ride the subways much these days, I’m not up on the current uniform.), and then dress in exactly that fashion. That alerts the police, who treat them with suspicion, which is exactly what the knuckleheads wanted. But then, instead of being manly about it, the black males, their parents, and their various comrades cry “Stereotyping!” “Racism!” “Racial profiling!” (Now that I think about it, I wonder if the middle-class punks’ goal was not only to go slumming, and to show solidarity with muggers, but to deliberately confuse police as to who is a mugger.) Jean Charles de Menezes didn’t just dress like a suicide bomber; he made his head and face look like one, too (given the winter coat on a high summer’s day, that is). And then he acted like one. When the police ordered him to stop, he ran toward a subway car full of people, leaping over barriers, and into the train. De Menezes’ brother doesn’t believe police accounts of his brother’s behavior. He is careful, however, to refrain from calling all the civilian witnesses liars. Imagine you’re a terrorist, and you have people willing to die for your goal of … spreading death. You’ve just had a failed mission, which led to a load of bad publicity, and a government crackdown. The thing you need most, until you can have the next attack, is a propaganda victory that casts the government as racist, fascist, and murderous. So, you send out a suicide decoy with no bomb to get shot, in order to discredit the police. Or maybe you just get lucky, due to some moron who unwittingly does your work for you. (As I have written before, stupidity kills.) With the help of the useful idiots among the communists and media, assuming they are not the same people, the resulting discrediting of the police will result in the government handcuffing the police and getting security relaxed. And then, the terrorists will strike again, bigger than ever. Jean Charles de Menezes was no innocent victim. Either he was suicidally stupid, or he was a suicide decoy.

TV Classics: Combat: "The Volunteer"

Originally aired, January 22, 1963 By Nicholas Stix (Warning: Spoilers Abound!) I saw an extraordinary episode tonight of the classic World War II TV series Combat! (1962-1967), entitled "The Volunteer." It was about a 13-year-old – or as he emphasizes, “13-and-a-half-year-old” French orphan, "Gilbert Barole" (Serge Prieur), who wants to fight the Germans (The “Bosh,” as the French called them.) The men of King Company have just liberated the boy’s town (for the moment, anyway), and been kissed by French girls, and enjoyed an orgiastic welcome. The boy, who doesn’t speak a word of English, offers his services, but is blown off by the company CO, "Lt. Gil Hanley" (Rick Jason). But he is not to be denied, and so he marches off after les Americaine, with his dead father’s rifle, and a sack containing a bottle of wine, and a crust of bread, as proviant. The camera cuts between the boots, large, thick legs and uniform pants of the American GIs and the boots, skinny little legs, and short pants of the boy, as he marches a discreet distance behind them. And as the camera cuts back and forth, the music alternates, as well. The boy is given his own wistful theme, which is played on a variety of instruments, but most frequently, the harmonica. The boy's theme reminded me of the themes Aaron Copland composed to express the fantasy world of the young boy that is the protagonist of the movie The Red Pony, based on a Steinbeck story. (Though I’ve never seen the movie, I’ve listened to the music many times.) Seeing the GIs take a break, the boy takes a nap, not realizing, since he doesn’t understand English, that they are about to pull out. When he wakes up, they are long gone, and he runs around in a panic. When he catches up to them, Lt. Hanley has just had his right arm shot up in a mortar attack. "Sgt. Chip Saunders" (Vic Morrow) gets Lt. Hanley to agree to go back to the boy’s village, accompanied by the boy. The boy is very excited – Hanley doesn’t know that the one French-speaking member of the unit, Franco-American “Caje” (pronounced “cage”; Pierre Jalbert), has told the boy that he has been appointed company “adjutant.” On the way back, the boy saves Hanley’s life, or at least his freedom. The boy tries his best for a time to support the wounded, 6’4” man, but Hanley eventually collapses. The boy camouflages him with branches, and then sees a German patrol approaching. The boy runs in the opposite direction, to take the Germans away from Hanley and to escape, but they catch the boy. One tall German soldier takes the boy’s wine, drinks a slug, and starts to walk away with the bottle, but a shorter, burlier, older soldier grabs him by the arm, takes the bottle back, and gives it back to the boy. The German fumbles with language – he knows only a little French, and the boy knows no German. He shows the boy a photograph of his own 13-year-old boy – who, like the French boy’s family, is dead. The soldier gives the boy a small, aluminum-foil wrapped piece of chocolate, saying “Ein Juenger soll Tschokolade haben jede Woche.” (“A boy should have chocolate every week.” Most episodes of Combat! seamlessly wove at least two, and frequently three languages -- English, French, and German -- into the story. The third of the series' 152 episodes, "Lost Sheep, Shepherd," used the above three languages, plus Latin.) After the German's acts of kindness, I thought of my mother's favorite adage, "No good deed goes unpunished." The Germans let the boy go, and they continue on their way. The boy gets back to Hanley, who is now able to march, if weakly. The boy gets him to his little house, where he hides him under the bed, just as the Germans enter the town. Hanley gives the boy a message to take back to Saunders, but he has trouble making himself understood. On the way back to the Americans, the boy sees the Germans set up four machine gun nests inside of building windows. He gets back to the GIs, and is eventually able to explain what he saw. Returning to the town, the boy shows the members of Hanley’s company where the nests are. Meanwhile, sensing a chance at some action against “Bosh,” the boy goes back to his house. When, using hand grenades, the GIs clear out a machine gun nest in a building, the boy is at his own window with a rifle (how did he get his rifle back? or is it Hanley’s?), just as a German soldier runs out of the building. The boy aims, shoots, and kills the German! All the other surviving Germans surrender. The boy comes out and looks at the dead man’s face. It was the kind-hearted German with the dead son. The distraught boy takes the man’s wallet out of his shirt pocket, takes another look at the boy in the picture (a little girl is also in the picture, but the soldier never explained who she was), puts it back, and taking the tinfoil-wrapped piece of chocolate out of his own pocket, puts it back in the dead man’s pocket. Since the boy shot the man around the corner from where the GIs are rounding up the German prisoners, the Americans know nothing of the boy’s feat. (When he shouts to them that he killed a German, they don't believe him, and don't check up on him.) As they pull out, Saunders salutes the boy from afar. Caje tells Saunders that the boy is no longer interested in fighting, though he doesn’t know what happened to dull his appetite for blood. In a grim denouement, Caje and Saunders march away from the town. Caje: He’ll get over it. Saunders: We all do. This episode could certainly be seen as an anti-war story, but that’s alright. Some of the best war stories ever written, were anti-war stories. Think, All Quiet on the Western Front. What makes so many anti-war stories bad (e.g., Platoon) also makes many pro-war stories bad – being weighed down with propaganda. Though “The Volunteer” may certainly have sprung from propagandistic impulses -- it was, after all, produced and directed by Robert Altman -- Gene Levitt’s story, as told, is not weighed down with politics. It’s a poignant gem. Combat! airs Tuesday nights at 7,8, and 11 p.m. and 2 a.m. on the cable channel, American Life. It originally aired on ABC during my childhood, but I saw it at most once or twice, and then caught a couple of reruns that were shown at midnight or so, around 1975. And yet, I have known the show's theme music most of my life. The show had one of the great TV themes, a variation on “When Johnny Comes Marching Home.” Although it got little respect in terms of Emmy nominations, it was one of the finest dramas in TV history, with excellent writing, directing, and acting. And it had authenticity. I've seen about a dozen episodes do far on American Life, spanning all five of the series' seasons, the first four of which were in black-and-white. Almost all were excellent, and none was less than good; "The Volunteer" was the best so far. A lot of conservatives complained about Saving Sgt. Ryan, when that movie was released in 1998. Yes, this or that small matter was factually wrong. Yes, Spielberg was turning WWII into a humanitarian war. But you know what? A lot of those complaints were political cheap shots. The fact of the matter is, that a conservative director (could any have been found) would likely not have made a more realistic movie. And the reason for that is history. Just about everyone involved in the making of Combat! was a World War II combat veteran. Actually, according to Jo Davidsmeyer, the most eloquent qand knowlegeable writer about the show, the show’s problem was a lack of infantrymen. Although its creator, Robert Pirosh (1910-1989), who before the war had been a successful Hollywood screenwriter, had been a master sergeant who, during the Battle of the Bulge fought in the legendary Battle of Bastogne, for some strange reason, the crew was heavy with pilots, including Robert Altman (Navy). Vic Morrow (1929-1982), who started out as second banana, and in the second season was made the show's star, was the rare cast member who had never seen combat. Born in 1929, he had enlisted in the Navy in 1946. (The blonde-haired, blue-eyed Morrow, had the looks of an Aryan poster boy, but according to Loraine Wingham, was in fact a Bronx Jew!) Morrow was the father of actress Jennifer Jason Leigh. Jo Davidsmeyer wrote of series creator Robert Pirosh, who had been a successful Hollywood screenwriter specializing in comedies before the war, “During the war, Pirosh rose to the rank of Master Sergeant serving with the 320th Regiment, 35th Division. He saw action during both the Ardennes and Rhineland campaigns and was awarded the Bronze Star. During the Battle of the Bulge, Pirosh led a patrol into Bastogne to lend support to the beleaguered defenders. Profoundly affected by these experiences, Pirosh spent much of his later career paying tribute to the frontline infantry soldier. “Pirosh won an Academy Award for his original story and screenplay to Battleground (1949), starring Van Johnson. Battleground chronicled the siege of Bastogne, telling the story from the point of view of the ordinary G.I. It became the biggest box office hit of 1949. Two years later, Pirosh was again nominated by the Academy for best story and screen play for Go for Broke, which he also directed. Go For Broke is the true story of the American-born Japanese who served heroically as U.S. infantrymen in the 442nd Regimental Combat Team in World War II. “Pirosh again paid tribute to the infantry in the feature film Hell Is for Heroes, which he wrote, produced, and directed. But conflicts arose between Pirosh and his star, [former Marine -- N.S.] Steve McQueen. Pirosh walked away from the film before it was finished. Later that year, he approached Selmur Productions with the idea for a series about frontline infantry soldiers.” When Hollywood directors made war movies after the victories in Europe and Japan, they had their pick of movie stars who had been in uniform, and in some cases were decorated war heroes (think Army Air Force pilot James Stewart, who started out as an enlisted man, and rose to the rank of major by war’s end). But now, when a Hollywood director shoots a World War II movie, he is unlikely to have a single cast or crew member who is a veteran of ANY war, or who even has peacetime military service under his belt. As a result, retired military officers like Dale Dye have made small fortunes as technical advisors on war pictures. You can compare my analysis of “The Volunteer” to that of Jo Davidsmeyer. I made a point of only reading Davidsmeyer’s analysis after writing my own. I don’t hold a candle to her – but then no one else does, either. Davidsmeyer has written a viewer’s companion book about Combat!, and the series is now available on DVD. (I have no connection to Davidsmeyer.)

Giuliani: The New Nixon?

By Nicholas Stix In Saturday’s New York Times, David Brooks began beating the drum for Rudy Giuliani, either as presidential candidate or as John McCain’s veep, in 2008. This is not news. Rudy Giuliani may have known he wanted to become president at a younger age (while in his mother’s womb?) than even Bill Clinton did. And the man who could say, with a straight face, that he didn’t know that the first of his three wives was a cousin, is clearly a liar of presidential proportions – and he doesn’t even need to bite his lip. When he was cited, first for New York’s “miraculous” crime-fighting revolution and then, after 911, for his Churchillian leadership during the city’s darkest days, even liberals gave away in so many words, that the man had “chief executive” written all over him. The GOP, of course, had already set Giuliani up as possible heir apparent (on a parallel track with another moderate Republican, California Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger, should Sen. Orrin Hatch get his Schwarzenegger Amendment to the U.S. Constitution passed, permitting itinerant Austrian politicians and other foreign-born, naturalized citizens (say, from Puebla) to run for President) at last year’s Republican Convention in New York City. And Giuliani gave a marvelous speech, presenting himself as a national leader who nonetheless had not severed his local roots. David Brooks touts Giuliani and McCain as partisans of a non-partisan politics of “courage.” Call it “toughness” and I’m with you, Brooks. Brooks writes, “The courage politicians organize their energies by picking fights with venal foes. They locate some corrupt power center that violates their sense of honor. For [Teddy] Roosevelt it was the trusts; for R.F.K., the mob; for McCain, the campaign finance system or K Street; for Giuliani, the bloated Board of Education or the self-indulgent edifice of urban liberalism. “Then they charge in, never more tranquil than when in the midst of combat, never more convinced of their own value than when the foe is big and powerful. “They demand complete, almost blind, loyalty from their friends, but their leadership is clear and unflinching. “The courage politicians speak of character, not morality. That is to say, they are more comfortable talking in the language of the classical virtues - duty, honor, service, patriotism, honesty and fortitude - than in the language of what you might call the Christian virtues - love, compassion and charity. It's not that they don't value these private things. It's just that they are stoical by nature and are more comfortable publicly with matters of the gut than with matters of the heart. “In public life they tend to flee from the politics of family values, believing that government can do little that is productive or good in this sphere. They handle social issues with obvious discomfort, and pick them up only reluctantly and out of political necessity.” Brooks closes, “As one reads through ‘The Prince of the City,’ one question keeps reoccurring: Are we Americans so blessed with political talent that we can afford not to use the courage politicians we do happen to have in our midst?” Note that all of Brooks' heroes are statists who were (are) hostile to the Constitution's model of limited government. Brook doth protest too much, when he claims that a Giuliani has no chance with the party hierarchy. What does he think was going on, when the party brass made him a keynote speaker in 2004? And his “ideal type” of “courage politician,” a hybrid between what Max Weber in his lecture, “Politik als Beruf” (Politics as Vocation) called the “politics of conviction” (Gesinnung) and the “politics of responsibility” (Verantwortung), is anything but ideal, having been the journalistic equivalent of a computer graphics program melding the faces of McCain and Giuliani. This project has been Brooks’ since his days at the Weekly Standard, back in 2000, when he backed McCain for president. Mr. Brooks, I knew Max Weber; he was a friend of mine, and Mr. Brooks, you’re no Max Weber! If you want to wax Weberian -- and Brooks does -- Giuliani hews to the pragmatic, responsibility side of the aisle. This politics of courage character is not a philosophical type in the same sense that conviction and responsibility are, assuming you even accept Weber’s problematic dichotomy. Until fellows like New York City mayor John V. Lindsay (1966-1973) and Sen. George “I’ll Get Down on My Hands and Knees and Beg for Our POWs” McGovern (D-SD), the 1972 Democrat presidential candidate came along, Democrats and Republicans alike expected toughness of their leaders. Now, I love Fred Siegel. He’s my favorite living writer on New York City. (My favorite of all is Roger Starr, but alas, Roger is no more. He has gone up to that Yale Club in the sky, where he is presently regaling lunchtime listeners with stories about Lenny Bernstein and the ‘60s.) And I confess to having wept, when I saw the cover of Siegel’s Giuliani/New York City book. “The Prince of the City.” Was there ever a more perfect title for a non-fiction book? (P.S. It turns out that I misread the meaning of Siegel’s title. He meant “prince” in the Machiavellian sense! P.P.S. I have no connection to either Siegel or Giuliani.) And yet, I am afraid that Siegel has bought into Giuliani’s PR machine, rather than confront the reality of his New York, which is why he gives Hizzoner credit for long-lasting reforms which in fact have all the solidity of sand castles. And that’s not a knock on Giuliani; that’s life in the big city. With that said, I am convinced that Rudy Giuliani was the greatest mayor in New York’s history, and would have been, had 911 never happened. But do I want him as my president? Brooks says that a “courage” politician shies away form social questions, but that’s hogwash. John McCain is anti-abortion and supports the Second Amendment of the U.S. Constitution. And Giuliani doesn’t shy away from such questions, either. He is enthusiastically opposed to respecting American citizens’ Second Amendment rights, and supports gay rights, women’s (but not men’s) right to abortion, and the “rights” of illegal immigrants. What Brooks is talking about when he says that “handle social issues with obvious discomfort, and pick them up only reluctantly and out of political necessity,” he means ‘I, David Brooks, and my neocon cronies, most notably Bill Kristol, handle social issues with obvious discomfort. (Although I made an exception, with my advocacy of gay marriage, even to the point of abusing Bible passages.)’ Brooks & Co. are actually pursuing two mutually contradictory goals: They would bring back the notion of technocracy, of a morally bereft, value-neutral managerial class of politicians who would avoid controversy, and yet they want these managers to be characterized by “courage.” Courage to what end? For all of Brooks’ fancy rhetorical evocations in various columns of his student days at the University of Chicago, he has little to offer, in matters of principle. While I am second to none in my admiration for Rudy Giuliani, and I have already asked myself the same question Brooks poses, I do not want a president who is pro-gay rights, pro-illegal immigration, opposed to obeying the Second Amendment, and whose stand on abortion is identical to that of NARAL. The answer I came up with, was to hope that a future conservative president (or at least one that honors America’s sovereignty) would name Giuliani to his cabinet. Rudy Giuliani worked miracles in New York, but not the miracles (whipping crime and welfare and the Board of Ed) for which he is given credit. He is supposed to have whipped crime, but as several journalists (Bill Rashbaum, then of the Daily News, myself, and especially, Newsday’s Lenny Levitt) have reported, going back to 1996, under Giuliani, the NYPD engaged in a fraudulent underreporting of crime statistics of revolutionary proportions, a systemic fraud that has continued unabated under Mayor Bloomberg. And as I showed already six or seven years ago, a healthy chunk of his reduction in the welfare rolls was achieved through shifting tens of thousands of clients from welfare (Temporary Assistance to Needy Families, or TANP) to much better paying federal disability Supplemental Security Income, which is disbursed through the Social Security Administration, and which is not counted in the welfare statistics. As for beating the Board of Education, which Brooks credits Giuliani with doing, it was in fact Giuliani’s successor, Mayor Mike Bloomberg, who wrested control of the city’s schools away form the Board of Ed, which was eliminated. And yet, for all of my criticisms of Giuliani, I think he was the greatest mayor New York ever had, because he ran the city under impossible conditions. He inherited the mayoralty from the second-worst mayor in the city’s history, socialist David Dinkins (who might have been worse even than John Lindsay, had he managed to get re-elected). He faced a united front of racist black leaders who sought, even before his inauguration, to humiliate him, to make it impossible for him to govern, and to encourage even more violent crime than occurred under mayors Dinkins and Koch. (Fairy tales charging Giuliani with “racism” and “racial profiling” were only invented years later, as cover stories, to retroactively rationalize the racist campaign initiated against Giuliani before he had made a single decision.) And the New York media supported the various smear campaigns against him. Had I been in Giuliani’s position, facing so much united, concentrated, downright demonic hatred, I think I would have eaten the business end of a .38. New York Democrats -- white, black, and Hisapnic -- called him (and still do) a “right-winger.” A “fascist.” “Mussolini.” “Racist.” And their favorite, “Hitler.” You have to consider the context. New York Republicans are sui generis. Radical left-winger John Lindsay was first elected as a Republican. Liberal Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia (1933-1945), generally considered the greatest in New York’s history, was a Republican. To be a New York Republican means not to be a New York Democrat. The function of the Republican candidacy has gone, in recent years, from a suicide mission for a candidate whose name most New Yorkers will never even know, to a serious slot for: 1. A reform Democrat or technocrat from outside the Party (Bloomberg); or 2. A liberal Republican (Giuliani) who offers disaffected whites a chance at a little racial pride, sotto voce. (This is Steve Sailer’s theory, which happens to hold true.) Giuliani actually covers both bases, but David Brooks wants him exclusively for function #1 – that of a popular Democrat without party support. Brooks and his buddies (Bill Kristol, et al.) seek a “Republican” candidate who isn’t a Republican at all, but rather a melding of certain corporate-type characteristics extant in both parties that Brooks & Co. consider clean and unoffensive. My colleague Jim Antle put it best back in 2000: “[Kristol's and Brooks’] political strategy in essence was this: Jettison the boorish white Southerners -- a Weekly Standard bete noire held responsible for much of the GOP's troubles within its pages -- and their Christian right friends, as well as other elements of the Republican coalition easily caricatured by the Democrats. Replace them with a party that chablis-sipping sophisticates from the Northeast who dress like Tucker Carlson would be more comfortable with. Sprinkle generous amounts of happy talk about reform. Voila! A new majority is born…. “What is to be gained by reading the GOP's backbone constituencies out of the party in exchange for better coverage from the New York Times? It ought to be said that when the party looked more like what Kristol and Brooks envision, it was consigned to permanent minority status. “Most of all, this formulation is utterly devoid of moral and intellectual substance….” Well, Brooks gained a column at the New York Times, and invitations to even more of the best cocktail parties. So, there! Where Nixon comes in, is that I see in Rudy Giuliani his reincarnation. Nixon was as tough as they came, he was an anti-communist (though no more so than his political twin, Jack Kennedy, except that Nixon was to the left of JFK on economics, and it was Nixon who gave us affirmative action), and yet he can be most accurately described as a moderate or liberal Republican. (Writers not blinded by hatred often describe him as an Eisenhower Republican, but I think Nixon was too much of a hands-on tinkerer with the machinery of government to be so described, whereas Ike was much more of a hands-off kind of guy.) Giuliani, similarly, is tough on terrorism, though not as far to the left on economics as Nixon was. And Giuliani did nothing to end affirmative action, while he was mayor. That Democrats described Nixon and (those old enough to remember him) still do in the same sort of demonic terms they now use to describe Giuliani, has nothing to do with Nixon’s (or Giuliani’s) actual character, and everything to do with Nixon’s successful prosecution of communist traitor Alger Hiss, and with socialists' and communists' rage at Nixon’s continuing success. And just as Giuliani assumed control of New York in 1994, when it threatened to disintegrate into chaos, Nixon inherited a similarly plagued body politic in 1969. And yet, as much as I admire Nixon, may he rest in peace, were he running for the presidency in 2008, I doubt I would vote for him. In any event, with America facing demographic collapse no longer in 2050 as predicted, but more like in 2030, and with a now forty-year-old, low-intensity, anti-white race war picking up, I don’t see any value in remaking the national Republican Party in the image of the New York City Republican Party, even if that means that some folks will lose out on cheap help.

More from the Barry Bonds Death Squad

By Nicholas Stix On June 16, I posted a death threat that came either from a racist black thug, or a white frat boy imitating one, in response to my essay, "Barry Bonds, Racist." It went as follows, In a message dated 6/16/2005 8:48:45 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time, Subject: Yo u should read this dude niko@family.risingmoons.com writes: "SHiIIIT quitcthya bitchin shutchya mouf lickety split and listen All I can say is that yo ass is a fucking faggot and bonds is the shit why give the bambino props for eating shitty food that just means he was anotha fuckin dumb white cracka like yo'self and im gonna have my niggas knockin down ya do with a 357 in ya face if u don’t shutchya mouth b4 it gets chilly in ya place" I checked out "niko's" Web site, "family.risingmoons.com," only to get an "HTTP 404 Not Found" error message (which I have since gotten on later attempts). risingmoons.com was likewise a dead-end. And so I wrote back to my would-be assassin, less than an hour later, What a surprise -- that a racist coward would use a phony address. Three days later, he responded. In a message dated 6/19/2005 5:00:05 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time, niko@family.risingmoons.com writes: Re: Yo u should read this dude "wow nice comeback why dont u go fuck ya sister u fuckin hick ass white redneck texan isn't that wutchyall crackaz do? thot so beeeiiiatttchh" Alright, so unlike the previous death threat I'd gotten from an apparently black writer, the e-mail address wasn't a phony, even if the URL was. Or perhaps it was shut down after complaints about death threats emanating from it, or because the wannabe assassin hadn't paid his bills. And yet, somehow I don't think I owe my wannabe killer an apology. Note that my article on Bonds was pretty much a softball toss for me. What might some good old country hardball have elicited? 'I'll kill you, and then dig you up, and kill you all over again,' a la the late, now coal-shoveling, Khalid Muhammad? The correspondence, as copied straight off of my e-mail, follows below. Re: Yo u should read this dude In a message dated 6/19/2005 5:00:05 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time, niko@family.risingmoons.com writes: wow nice comeback why dont u go fuck ya sister u fuckin hick ass white redneck texan isn't that wutchyall crackaz do? thot so beeeiiiatttchh -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Add1dda@aol.com [mailto:Add1dda@aol.com] Sent: Thursday, June 16, 2005 5:55 PM To: niko@family.risingmoons.com Subject: Re: Yo u should read this dude Re: Yo u should read this dude In a message dated 6/16/2005 8:48:45 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time, niko@family.risingmoons.com writes: SHiIIIT quitcthya bitchin shutchya mouf lickety split and listen All I can say is that yo ass is a fucking faggot and bonds is the shit why give the bambino props for eating shitty food that just means he was anotha fuckin dumb white cracka like yo'self and im gonna have my niggas knockin down ya do with a 357 in ya face if u don’t shutchya mouth b4 it gets chilly in ya place What a surprise -- that a racist coward would use a phony address.

Howard Beach II: More White Male Monsters?

By Nicholas Stix Last updated 440 a.m., July 10. It looks as though those evil white males committed yet another racial outrage in Howard Beach, Queens, on June 29. Since the New York reporters and politicians I’ve seen and heard have not even used the qualifier “alleged,” I don’t know why we should even bother with the formality of a trial. Let’s have us a necktie party! In the incident that allegedly occurred at 3:30 a.m., three black men stopped in the lily white area with the express intent -- as Glen Moore, Richard Pope, and Richard Wood, have all freely admitted -- of stealing a car, specifically a Chrysler 300 (i.e., loitering with intent to commit a crime). One of the white men, Nicholas Minucci, allegedly fractured Glen Moore’s skull with a baseball bat. Another white man, Anthony Ench, allegedly kicked Glen Moore, called him the “n”-word, and stole his sneakers and jewelry. A third white man who participated in whatever it was that transpired, Frank Agostini, was initially named by authorities as a “person of interest” (read: suspect). Agostini, an NYPD detective’s son, has since “flipped” on Minucci and Ench. Agostini has admitted to having punched Moore once before Minucci allegedly worked Moore over with the baseball bat, a story the “victims” have reportedly corroborated. (The alleged victims and alleged attackers apparently range in age from 19 to 25 years of age, with the alleged attackers being described as at the younger end, but media accounts of everyone’s ages are contradictory, even from one page to the next of the same newspaper.) Unlike many murder suspects, Minucci and Ench are in jail without bail, each facing a multitude of charges, including hate crimes, and a possible 25-year prison sentence, which is more than most of New York’s killers are sentenced to. Agostini has not been charged. In the July 2 Daily News, “reporter” Tracy Connor’s shameless lead was, “NICHOLAS MINUCCI might be a tough guy when he’s swinging a baseball bat, but he’s apparently a big wimp when it comes to the needle.” Connor was referring to a tattoo needle, from Minucci’s appearance on the A&E show, Growing Up Gotti. Minucci is friends with the family of late Gambino crime family boss and mass murderer, John Gotti. The caps are from the paper edition. But that was nothing compared to the July 6 Daily News story by alleged reporter Warren Woodberry Jr., who led with, “The baseball-bat beating of a black man by white thugs in Howard Beach caused tempers to flare yesterday on the steps of Queens Criminal Court.” Woodberry also referred to Glen Moore as “victim,” which is presumptuous, as well. Editorialists are supposed to honor the presumption of innocence; reporters are supposed to meet an even higher standard. It was unwittingly comical when Woodberry then referred to defendant Anthony Ench as a “suspect.” Doesn’t Woodberry know what he’s saying? What he did was no better than if I had referred to him first as “an incompetent moron,” and then as “reporter Warren Woodberry Jr.” But my professional code forbids my stooping so low. Had a white reporter written as Woodberry did about a black crime suspect, he would have been cashiered. From the Rev. Charles Norris Files Alleged reporter Warren Woodberry Jr. apparently missed some other things, as well. He quoted rally organizer the Rev. Charles Norris as shouting at attorney Vincent Siccardi, when the latter spoke out on behalf of his client, suspect Anthony Ench, "This is our press conference. You have no business here." Woodberry neglected to mention that since the unofficial (i.e., without permit) rally took place on public property, on the steps of Queens Criminal Court, Siccardi not only had as much right to be present as the Rev. Norris, but also had the same First Amendment right as Norris to speak out. Woodberry neglected to report that the Rev. Charles Norris is a black supremacist, who during the mid-1990s fronted for black supremacist murderer-kidnapper-extortionist Sonny Carson (1935?-2002), when Carson sought to get a veteran Jewish teacher, Rita Altman, fired from predominantly black P.S. 80 in Jamaica, Queens, via a race hoax. In 1996, the Rev. Norris, told Newsday reporter Merle English that it didn’t even matter to him whether the charges were true.

We’re not going to sit still and have this teacher just get away with what allegedly has been said. Whether it’s true or not, her effectiveness as a teacher has been damaged. How is she going to teach effectively in any school where students will be whispering, ‘That’s the teacher that used the N-word’?”

Rev. Norris vowed that if Altman were transferred to another school, his group would hunt her down and prevent her from teaching, the same threat Carson and his allies had made against the Jewish teachers whom they sought to have fired during the 1967-68 Ocean Hill-Brownsville “community control” (read: black power) debacle. A couple of other matters also escaped “reporter” Woodberry. The good reverend is so consumed with hatred for whites and Jews, that in 2000 he made a point of celebrating MLK Day by publicly disparaging Jews to a large crowd he was warming up at the Rev. Al Sharpton’s Harlem headquarters, just before senatorial candidate Hillary Clinton was scheduled to speak, and last year, he fought (apparently with success, since no center bears Byrne’s name) having a Police Athletic League center in South Jamaica, Queens named after police Officer Edward Byrne, who died defending the black community, for the sole and stated reason that Officer Byrne was white. Charles Norris and Sonny Carson figure just as much in this story as do Nicholas Minucci, Anthony Ench, and Frank Agostini. Even in death, Carson’s malevolent spirit hangs over New York. The Readers Beg to Differ Meanwhile, reader letters published by the local dailies were less one-sided than reporters in their sympathies. Of four letters the July 3 Daily News published on the case, for instance, two opposed casting the failed car thieves as victims. Herb Stark of Massapequa, in neighboring Nassau County wrote, “I'm not condoning the attack on three black men by white men in Howard Beach. But the fact that the black men told investigators they were out to steal a car should warrant their arrest for criminal intent. To describe them as victims is not quite right.” And Mark Morgan of Kew Gardens, Queens opined, “A would-be car thief gets beaten with a bat while casing a neighborhood, and we're supposed to care. Get real!” On June 30, when I was considering writing only a brief blog on this case, I received the following letter from a reader:

I was wondering if you have written anything about this attack that recently occured in Queens in which a white guy is getting charged with a hate crime for beating up a black who was planning on stealing a car. I think it is outrageous, the guy should be commended for doing what the cops will not do.

Two More White Males Mayor Mike Bloomberg immediately condemned the attack, as if there were no question as to its racial character (in other words, as if the defendants had already been convicted). Meanwhile, Police Commissioner Ray Kelly told New Yorkers that the “victims’” ongoing grand theft auto project, had nothing at all to do with the attack on them, and that New Yorkers should discount the claim that the failed car thieves had sought to rob one of the three white men. Speaking anonymously, Kelly’s minions have insisted to the local media that the white men had no idea what the black men were up to. (Leftwing journalists and academics have for years claimed -- either out of dishonesty or utter ignorance -- that white police officers and security guards are unable to distinguish between suspicious and innocent behavior by black males, painting them with the same broad brush that police are now using on the white Howard Beach men.) Last week (June 30, I think it was), reporter Tim Minton of WNBC 4 said that the (alleged) bias attack bore some “eerie similarities” to another one in Howard Beach 19 years earlier. Let’s see, according to the official story, in the December 20, 1986 attack, three black men (Michael Griffith, 23, Cedric Sandiford, 36, and Timothy Grimes, 20), were driving through the lily-white neighborhood when their car broke down. When they went looking for help, they were set upon by a racist mob, which caused the death of Michael Griffith, when he ran into traffic to escape the mob. Three members of the mob, Jon Lester, Scott Kern, and Jason Ladone, were convicted for the attack. Incidents involving innocent black men trying to get their broken-down car fixed, so they can continue on their way (Howard Beach I), and black men who have stopped for the sole purpose of committing a felony (Howard Beach II) are “eerily similar”? Only if you deny the difference between a criminal black man and a law-abiding black man. Calling stories that have little in common “eerily similar” is a hoary reporter’s cliché. But then, even Howard Beach I wasn’t the “Howard Beach” that the official media and politicians’ story would have you believe. Remembering Howard Beach I You can’t really “remember” Howard Beach unless you were there, even if you lived in New York at the time, as I did. That is because the case was misrepresented by most of the media, who reported on it according to socialist/civil rights boilerplate, and who as the years went on, piled fiction upon fiction. According to the official story, Michael Griffith, Cedric Sandiford, and Timothy Grimes were beaten and Griffith sent to his death because they were saintly blacks who found themselves in racist, demonic Howard Beach. The reality, however, was less black and white. Let’s go to a source more reliable than the New York media, written by an author living hundreds of miles away. In Jared Taylor’s classic, 1992 work, Paved with Good Intentions: The Failure of Race Relations in Contemporary America, Taylor recounted,

One evening in 1986, some white teenagers were driving a girl home when three blacks walked in front of their car and were nearly hit. A shouting match then ensued, a black shouted ‘F--- you, honky,’ another flashed a knife, and one reportedly stuck his head through a window and spat in the face of one of the whites. The whites drove away furious, and after dropping off the girl, returned with baseball bats. They brutally attacked one of the blacks and gave him an injury requiring five stitches. Another black was hit and killed by a car as he tried to escape.

Taylor added that a TV docudrama on Howard Beach I took one black man’s five stitch wound, and turned it into a 67-stitch wound, invented racial epithets on the part of the whites that the blacks did not even claim to have heard, and censored any depiction of the blacks’ aggression that started the ball rolling. As Taylor’s book and the Web site of the magazine he edits, American Renaissance show, racially motivated murders of whites by blacks have long been routine in America, while racial murders of blacks by whites have long been a rarity. And yet the media have for at least the past 20 years presented a parallel universe of bloodthirsty whites and heroic black victims. The rare white-on-black attack is always put on Page One and given saturation coverage by the TV news, while the daily black-on-white attacks are “disappeared”: Either not reported on at all, reported only by local newspapers, but “whited out” of local TV and national newspaper coverage, or reported without informing viewers of the respective races of the attackers and victim. As an NYPD detective admitted to me in January, 1991, after I’d been singled out for attack on the subway by a spontaneously forming black and Hispanic gang, racial attacks on whites are a daily occurrence in New York, “but there are some things you can’t say” for political reasons. I quoted WNBC’s Tim Minton above as saying that the June 29 incident was “eerily similar” to one that occurred in Howard Beach in 1986. You will never hear Minton or any of his colleagues speak of a contemporary black-on-white racial attack as being “eerily similar” to one in the past, because that would require two conditions: 1. That Minton & Co. report on at least one contemporary black-on-white racial attack, and 2. That they reported on such attacks in the past. And unlike most of his colleagues, who only play reporters on TV, Tim Minton is a real reporter! It was not always so. In Vincent J. Cannato’s exhaustively researched political biography/history of a mayor and his city, The Ungovernable City: John Lindsay and His Struggle to Save New York, Cannato chronicles how for approximately ten years beginning in the mid-1960s, the city’s newspapers not only reported on the savage attacks of the city’s crime explosion, the majority of which were black-on-white, and whose racial character fooled no one, but the newspapers -- including the liberal New York Times -- ran crime stories on the front page, day after day after day. But those reporters and editors are all gone, replaced by a new generation of white journalists who are hostile to white crime victims and who are simultaneously fearful of, fascinated by, and patronizing towards New York’s overwhelmingly black and Hispanic violent criminals; and black and Hispanic journalists who feel a loyalty to minority criminals, and who have successfully pressured their editors to downplay or “disappear” most such crime. When today’s journalists travel at night after work, it is not in the subway, but by taxicab or their own car. When they travel to cover stories, it is with news crews that double as bodyguards. The liberal journalists (J-school weeded out any conservatives) live either in luxury apartment buildings with 24-hour security, in neighborhoods where the police are acutely concerned for their safety, or in wealthy suburbs. And when they or their family or friends are crime victims, they go to the district attorney’s office accompanied by their famous attorneys, perhaps paying lip-service to the welfare of criminal as well as victim, and they get a measure of justice. But they feel contempt for the whites who cannot afford the taxicabs, the security guards, the wealthy suburbs, the fancy lawyers or the fancy justice, whites who feel no compassion whatsoever for the devils who attacked them, and who see no reason to feign such compassion. Rank has its privileges and its burdens. In the early 1990s, black journalists formulated the logically circular and historically backwards theory, that black crime was “caused” by the media reporting on black crime. I kid you not. Famous black journalist Ellis Cose promoted just such a theory in his 1993 book, The Rage of a Privileged Class. The theory is a companion piece to the equally circular and historically backwards one favored by leftist academics, that black academic failure is “caused” by white stereotyping of blacks as academic failures (“stereotype threat”). Was the Central Park Jogger Prosecution Racist? One violent crime that was reported on exhaustively was the 1989 Central Park Jogger attack. But the socialist New York media later decided that the reporting on that crime had been an political mistake, just as socialist Manhattan District Attorney Robert Morgenthau decided that the prosecution of the teenagers who had confessed, mutually implicated each other, and known things that only the attackers could have known about the assault and rape of investment banker Trisha Meili had been a political mistake. (The assault left Meili in a coma for weeks, after losing over 70 percent of her blood. When some of the boys were initially picked up in Central Park by police for a string of attacks they had committed on other parkgoers, they thought it was for Meili’s murder. They assumed she had died. Since police would not find Meili’s limp body for several hours, the officers had no idea what the boys were talking about.) And so, with DA Morgenthau leading the way, in a journalistic version of reparations, the entire episode was re-written. The five confessed attackers were “exonerated,” and recast as “victims of racism.” (See “Race Hustlers Re-Run Central Park Jogger Case,” “Justice Vacated in Central Park Jogger Case,” and “The War on the Police.”) Dropping “N”s Back in Howard Beach II, Anthony Ench allegedly called the would-be car thieves the n-word. Meanwhile, Frank Agostini’s story is that he encountered two of the failed car thieves on the street, and that one apparently mistook the dark-skinned young man for a black, and said to an accomplice, "Look at the little n----- with the chain." If Agostini was telling the truth, he correctly inferred that the two were about to rob him, and he ran off and got his friends. The failed car thieves admit to having encountered the lone Agostini, but deny having said what he attributed to them. The July 2 Daily News reported that Queens assistant DA Brian Kohm maintained that Ench told the failed car thieves, “This is what happens when you rob white boys.” The NYPD Can’t Get Its Lies Straight Interestingly, the July 2 Daily News reported that police sources thought Agostini’s story was credible, in spite of his account depicting Ench as not having said the "n"-word. That could be (as Ench’s attorney, Vincent Siccardi, claims) because Agostini’s father is a well-placed NYPD detective or because Agostini is telling the truth. If Agostini is telling the truth (i.e., if the News’ police official sources are right), the three whites were reacting to a failed robbery by two of the failed car thieves, and none of the whites said the “n”-word. That would mean that even by New York City prosecutors’ twisted, hypocritical, unconstitutional standards and practices, the whites could not be prosecuted under the hate crimes statute. It would also mean that rather than this being a racial attack, it was a response to an attempted robbery, whose prospective assailants misidentified their prospective victim. But we don’t need to rely on the News’ NYPD sources. All of the failed car thieves -- Glen Moore, Richard Pope, and Richard Wood -- have corroborated Frank Agostini’s report of what Anthony Ench said, except for claiming that Ench also said the “n” word. So, what is it? Do police believe Agostini or not? They can't say they believe Agostini's story when doing so helps Agostini, but disbelieve the same story when doing so helps Minucci and Ench. (In the present lynch-mob environment, however, they could certainly get away with such a violation of logic.) Regarding the fork-tonguedness of police officials, I am reminded of the line of TV detective “Andy Sipowicz” (Dennis Franz) in NYPD Blue to suspects whose accomplices were already in custody, "You and your partner need to get your lies straight." Rather than ask such questions, the media have gladly followed the lead of Commissioner Kelly & Co. After all, the New York media like nothing more than demonizing white Catholic men, especially Italians, as racist thugs. After Joey Fama’s 1989 murder of Yusuf Hawkins in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, the media demonized the entire area for years, and I, who lived about two miles from the crime scene, was too embarrassed to tell anyone that I lived in Bensonhurst. (I started telling people I was from “Bath Beach,” which as my Italian landlady pointed out, was true. We were in the Bath Beach section of Bensonhurst, a huge swath of Brooklyn which had over 100,000 residents.) By contrast, though most of New York’s black neighborhoods are among the most racist in the nation, the New York media have never demonized a black neighborhood as racist. In Paved with Good Intentions, Jared Taylor recounts a 1989 incident that occurred in The Bronx one month after the Yusuf Hawkins killing. A white man got out of his car on predominantly black East Tremont Avenue to use a telephone. A black man approached him, said, “What are you white guys doing on Tremont? You don’t belong here,” and gut-shot the white. The story was suppressed by the media, ignored by politicians, and discounted by black activists. (At the time, I had a foster-care client on East Tremont Avenue, which looked like a war had just ended, but I didn’t hear about the black-on-white shooting. The woman, a crackhead, lived atop a hilly street. When I went for a home visit and she wasn’t there, I literally ran downhill to a pay phone a block away, to call her neighbor. Meanwhile, the media had already started telling the fairy tale about the “renaissance” the South Bronx, which included East Tremont, was enjoying.) Breaking Through the Media Wall of Silence Note that when a mob of some thirty black junior high school students savagely beat six white girls while shouting racial epithets (“black power!” "honky b-----s!" “white crackers!” “Martin Luther King!” – go figure), in Marine Park, Brooklyn, on March 30 of this year, Mayor Bloomberg and Commissioner Kelly ignored the case, the media refused to report on it, and the NYPD covered up the attack’s racial character. Hate crime charges against the black alleged attackers were only brought weeks after the attack, after the victims’ parents fought the city, engaged high-profile attorneys on their children’s behalf, and the attack was publicized via the Internet. (The attack would have been racial in character without the use of the racial slurs, but New York authorities have long claimed and the media implied that the use of such slurs proves that an attack was racial.) Likewise, the New York media only covered the story weeks after the fact, after they were shamed into doing so by a little Brooklyn weekly newspaper, which reached only a few thousand New Yorkers, but hundreds of thousands of people across the country and around the world via the Internet. And many of the reporters from major dailies who then grudgingly covered the story were angrier at the little paper and its reporter for breaking through the media wall of silence, than they were at the attackers. Cross-Examining the Prosecution We can forget about the “n” word in Howard Beach II. It’s irrelevant. I realize that the New York media, police, and prosecutors are obsessed with whites using this term in dealing with blacks, but it’s a red herring. First of all, because as I wrote in the context of Atlanta’s Brian Nichols case, racist blacks lie all the time about whites using the “n” word. More importantly, it is not necessarily relevant to establishing an attacker’s motive. Third, the obsession with the “n” word is part of both the legislative intent and application of hate crime statutes in New York that are unconstitutional, because they target whites for punishment. Fourth, hate crime laws are unconstitutional, since they criminalize one’s thoughts, rather than one’s acts. Fifth, the authorities' exploitation of the "n"-word has been contradictory in this case. And last, because the failed car thieves’ own words show that the intent of the whites’ attack was not racist. 1. Since about the 1980s, racist black criminals have been permitted in New York to use false claims that their white victims called them the “n”-word as a “get-out-of-jail-free” card. 2. I have been racially attacked dozens of times by blacks who simply walked over to me and, without uttering a word, shoved, kicked, or punched me. I’ve also had New York blacks cuss me out before spitting on me or throwing lit cigarettes at me, but without calling me a racial epithet. Meanwhile, a white may be a racist but still have good reason for going after a black (in self-defense, to protect others, or to protect property), and may even call the black a racial epithet, in the course of fighting him, without being guilty of a racial attack. The opposite does not apply, because whites almost never commit crimes against blacks. (And authorities almost always discount white reports of black attackers using racial epithets.) The upshot of elites’ obsession with whites saying the “n”-word is that only whites with certain refined manners would ever be permitted, even in theory or in self-defense, to strike blacks for any reason. That standard violates whites’ 14th Amendment right to equality under the law. 3. Hate crime statutes were enacted in New York, as elsewhere, to privilege certain groups (blacks, Hispanics, gays), and correspondingly to disenfranchise white, heterosexual males. Crimes are labeled hate crimes based not on the act but on who commits it. When blacks or Hispanics target whites or Asians, they are almost never charged with hate crimes (and then only after great political pressure is exerted on criminal justice officials), whereas whites are routinely treated as racist criminals and locked up for interracial crimes in which blacks or Hispanics are the victims (and increasingly for crimes in which the whites were the victims). The intent and application of hate crimes legislation both violate the 14th Amendment’s equal protection clause. 4. The state may not criminalize one’s thoughts, as opposed to one’s actions. 5. If Minucci is not alleged to have used the "n"-word during the attack, why is he being charged with a hate crime? And if Ench did not use a weapon on anyone (he allegedly kicked Moore), why is he facing the same possible 25-year sentence as Minucci, who fractured Moore's skull? Legally, the only way to paper over such inconsistencies would be to invoke the legal principle of "acting in concert." But then, Agostini would have to be up for the same 25 years as the others. (If anything, consistency would require that Agostini bear the greatest responsibility, because he has himself said that he called on Minucci and Ench to go after Moore, Pope, and Wood, in the first place. According to the hate crime scenario, by which prosecutors treated Keith Mondello as the ringleader in the Yusuf Hawkins case, despite the fact that Mondello did not kill Hawkins or order Joey Fama to kill him, Agostini was the ringleader in Howard Beach II.) Note, however, that violent blacks and Hispanics who have engaged in mob attacks in New York, have not been charged with acting in concert in recent memory. 6. The failed car thieves agree with Agostini that Ench said, “This is what happens when you rob white boys.” Why would Ench use those very words? Unlike in cases of black-on-white attacks, no one claims he said, ‘This is what happens when you come into our neighborhood.’ He said what he did, because the car thieves had sought to rob Agostini. Even the police have agreed with this story out of one side of their mouths. In any event, after their confessions, Glen Moore, Richard Pope, and Richard Wood not only weren’t arrested, but Moore (who is still in critical condition) is being treated like a victim-hero. What’s wrong with this picture? It is a recent development whereby a black man can commit a crime, but if he finds a racial angle, the authorities don’t even charge him, and he then hits the jackpot in civil court. Glen Moore’s stepfather immediately began speaking with anticipation about Moore's coming lawsuit. Even 20 years ago, no New York criminal would have dared to admit that he was in the act of committing a crime when he was attacked, because it was understood that if you were caught committing a crime and got the hell beat out of you, that the beating was inseparable from your own criminal behavior. Somewhere along the line in the 1980s or early 1990s, New York officials started treating black criminals as victims, if the criminals and their media supporters could come up with a good race story. According to the local media and to Ray Kelly’s NYPD, when blacks single out whites for assault, robbery, rape or murder, race never has anything to do with it. But anytime a white hits a black, or even is accused of hitting a black (even if the white didn’t hit the black at all, or only hit back in self-defense after having been assaulted), it’s a white-on-black “bias attack.” Meanwhile, the media are playing along with Kelly, in portraying Nicholas Minucci as a mobbed-up, racist thug. Which, given Minucci’s history of a racial attack on a Sikh man and his friendship with the Gottis, is pretty easy to do. The hysterical reaction to Howard Beach II by the media, politicians, and police brass is a case of what Ian Jobling has called “competitive altruism,” whereby some whites harm other whites, in relation to minorities, in order to demonstrate their moral superiority. The whites in charge are desperate to show the world that they are morally superior to the Nicholas Minuccis and Anthony Enches, and all who would defend them, but not superior to its Glen Moores, Richard Popes, and Richard Woodses. Nicholas Minucci and Anthony Ench, and yes, Frank Agostini, are not nice guys. In fact, they’re dirtbags. (A case could be made that Agostini, who has played both mob wannabes and the NYPD for fools, is the biggest dirtbag of all.) But the reaction to them by the media and politicians, which includes Commissioner Kelly, has little to do with the alleged severity of what they allegedly did. For let’s assume that the charges against Minucci and Ench are 100 percent true. If the reaction were to the supposed outrage of singling out someone and assaulting him based solely on his race or ethnicity, the Bloombergs and Kellys and the media would be speaking out in outrage the same way on a daily basis, and several hundred thousand New York blacks and Hispanics would each presently be serving a 25-year prison term. Mike Bloomberg and Ray Kelly are a couple of truly dangerous white males.

Stupid Reporter Tricks: Misreporting the Death of Luther Vandross

By Nicholas Stix Friday on the 11 p.m. Eyewitness News at ABC’s New York affiliate, reporter Jeff Peguys covered the death of Luther Vandross. Peguys noted Vandross’ April, 2003 stroke, but immediately followed that with the non sequitur, “but his career and the music” continued (I’m not sure if Peguys said “continued” or “went on.”). I wasn’t aware that Vandross’ career had somehow continued. After all, if he never overcame his 2003 stroke, never again publicly performed, the album, Dance with My Father, that came out weeks (June 10, 2003) after the stroke was his last, and no secretly made post-stroke recordings have surfaced, how could his career have continued? (Vandross had barely emerged from a coma when the album was released.) I googled through some of the obit stories. The AP story by Nekesa Mumbi Moody, and which came out over one hour before Peguys’ report, had a familiar sound. “Since the stroke in his Manhattan home on April 16, 2003, the R&B crooner stopped making public appearances -- but amazingly managed to continue his recording career. In 2004, he captured four Grammys as a sentimental favorite, including best song for the bittersweet 'Dance With My Father.'" Those Grammys were for the Dance with My Father album. Further down, Moody reports, “In 2005, he was nominated for a Soul Train Music Award for a duet with Beyoncé on 'The Closer I Get To You.'" Perhaps Moody saw that entry, and assumed that Vandross had indeed recorded music after the stroke. But the duet was also from Dance with My Father. (It was also on a Beyonce Knowles CD that was released on June 24, 2003.) Unless I missed the boat, Nekesa Mumbi Moody was guilty of the hoary reporter’s cliché of trying to give a happy ending to a story that doesn’t have one, while Peguys was engaging in the practice, as old as journalism itself, of cribbing from a fellow journalist. Unless and until new facts come to light showing that Vandross was able to work after his stroke, that stroke ended Luther Vandross’ career. That is a heartbreaking fact, but one that cannot and should not be falsified. Meanwhile, a number of obits insinuated that Vandross was a homosexual, referring to him, as Reuters’ Dean Goodman did, as a “lifelong bachelor.” Such euphemisms have an honorable pedigree, but that was before the age of outing and of “queering the news,” the deliberate spreading of false reports claiming that celebrities are homosexual. The false reports are put into play by gay activists posing (and being paid) as journalists, who believe that it is good for gays’ public acceptance to depict as many celebrities as possible as homosexual, the truth be damned. That strategy is an outgrowth of two much older gay strategies: 1. Outing celebrities who actually are gay, and 2. Wildly inflating the proportion of homosexuals in the population at large. I googled, and found that rumors of Vandross being homosexual had circulated for years. But at this point, they remain rumors. Unless Goodman had unimpeachable sources, he should have waited with the “bachelor” line. Luther Vandross was, in this man’s opinion, the greatest singer of his generation. He not only had a great set of pipes, but unlike even those few popular singers today blessed with similar natural gifts, he knew what to do with them, and he had impeccable taste. And he paid his dues. And by all accounts, he was a truly nice guy, which is another rarity at the top of his spoiled profession. And only 54! Imagine all the wonderful music he might yet have produced. The death of Luther Vandross is a heartbreaking story all on its own. It doesn’t need phony, upbeat spin or dubious homosexual insinuations to generate interest.

Re-Enlistment Blues: From Here to Eternity

By Nicholas Stix Got paid out on Monday, Not a dog soljer no more, They gimme all that money, So much my pockets is sore, More dough than I can use, Re-enlistment Blues. Fred Zinnemann’s 1953 masterpiece, which won eight Oscars and deserved even more, may seem tame by today’s standards, but it was hot stuff at the time. (And if it seems tame, that is a negative reflection on today’s movies.) FHTE, with a marvelous screenplay by Daniel Taradash, based on James Jones’ sprawling, "unfilmable,” epic 1951 novel set in pre-WWII Pearl Harbor, tells the story of two soldiers and the women who fall in love with them. (With all due respect to winner Bill Holden, who was excellent in Stalag 17, the picture should also have won the Oscar for best actor, but since the two best performances of the year were given in FHTE by Montgomery Clift and Burt Lancaster, respectively, and both were nominated, each knocked the other out of the running.) Took my ghelt to town on Tuesday, Got a room and a big double bed, Find a job tomorrow, Tonight you may be dead, Aint no time to lose, Re-enlistment blues. First Sgt. Milton Warden (Lancaster) and Pvt. Robert E. Lee Prewitt (Clift) each, in his own way, exemplifies the best of this man’s Army. And this man’s rotten, stinking Army may appreciate Worden, to a point, but it certainly does not appreciate Prewitt, whose credo is, “A man’s got to go his own way, or he’s nothing.” Hit the bars on Wednesday, My friends put me up on a throne, Found a hapa-Chinee baby, Swore she never would leave me alone, Did I give her a bruise? Re-enlistment blues! The women who fall in love with these men are, each in her own way, forbidden. Warden’s lover, Karen Holmes (Deborah Kerr), is the commander’s wife; Alma (Donna Reed), Prewitt’s girl, is a prostitute, though in a nod to the censors, the movie turned her into a hostess. Woke up sick on Thursday, Feelin like my head took a dare, Looked down at my trousers, All my pockets was bare, That gal had blown my fuse, Re-enlistment Blues. The men’s corrupt, commanding officer, Capt. Dana “Dynamite” Holmes (Philip Ober), wants Prewitt to box for the company. Prewitt, an excellent middleweight who accidentally blinded a friend, refuses. And so, Holmes tries to break him with “The Treatment,” as carried out by his cowardly boxer-sergeants. Warden admires Prewitt, and is cordial to him, but there is little he can do on his behalf – beyond counseling him to box. Prewitt, the “thirty-year man” with a touch of Spinoza, is one of the great tragic heroes of American fiction. As he says of the Army, “Just because you love something, doesn’t mean it has to love you back.” Went back around on Friday, Asked for a free glass of beer, My friends had disappeared, Barman say, “Take off, you queer!” What I done then aint news, Re-enlistment Blues. Among a brilliant cast, Clift and Lancaster shine the brightest, with each giving the performance of a lifetime, while Frank Sinatra steals almost every scene he’s in as Prewitt’s best friend, the combative, proud Pvt. Angelo Maggio. That jail was cold all Sa’day, Standin up on a bench lookin down, Through them bars I watched the people, All happy and out on the town, Looked like time for me to choose, Them Re-enlistment Blues. In this indictment of the corruption, casual cruelty, and class politics of the pre-WWII U.S. Army, the dialogue is excellent for the men, but melodramatic for the women. And yet at the time, women and men of certain strata thought like these characters, most of whom are tortured and miserable. Slep in the park that Sunday, Seen all the folks goin to church, Your belly feels so empty, When you’re left in the lurch, Dog soljers don’t own pews, Re-enlistment Blues. If you have a contemporary sensibility, you may hoot at the screen. So much the worse for you. But if you can appreciate the honor of fighting men, and the time and the place, this story, one of the masterpieces to come out of the war, will break your heart. So I re-uped on Monday, A little sad and sick at my heart, All my fine plans was with my money, In the poke of a scheming tart, Guy always seems to lose, Re-enlistment Blues. So you short-timers, let me tell you, Don’t get yourself throwed in the can, You might as well be dead, Or a Thirty-Year-Man, Recruiting Crews give me the blues, Old Re-enlistment Blues. (“Re-enlistment Blues” ©1951 by James Jones.) Thoughts on the 2001 DVD.