Tag Archives: Chicago

Whittle wisdom

BILL WHITTLE always puts things in proper perspective.

Here he deals with the left-wing obsession of “climate change,” a bogus worry if there ever was one.

Train times

WE MAY HAVE iPods and iPads and iTunes and even flaming Samsungs today, but we do not have trains. Freight trains are nice, but passenger trains are lovely.

One advantage of being vintage is that you had trains in your life, and now you have trains in your mind.

A railroad track passes directly behind the house across our street. Freights thunder by day and night. My favorite is the 5:45 a.m. Who needs an alarm clock?

Most passenger trains are gone, and we’re left with the occasional line that transports tourists. Alas.

As a child I boarded trains at the huge station in Jacksonville, Florida, and rode 200-plus miles northwest to Sylvester, Georgia, where I stepped down onto dirt.

Grandparents picked me up in an old Ford, and we drove to the farm on rutted, red-clay roads.

new-imageOne evening in 1962 a staff sergeant deposited me at the station in San Antonio, Texas, handing me a ticket and ordering me aboard.

The Air Force paid for a solo sleeper to Rantoul, Illinois. I woke the next morning and watched a forest of white-barked birch trees passing. I’d never seen birches.

Also courtesy of the Air Force, a few months later, I railed from Rantoul to the San Joaquin Valley of California, via Chicago. All the way across much of America.

From New Orleans I would ride the elegant Southern Railway to Atlanta to visit my parents. “Southern Railway Serves the South.” It surely did. But not anymore.

Traveling solo with two bottles of tequila, I rode in a sleeper from Mexico City to Ciudad Juárez. I stood outside on the bucking platform between cars and watched the desert mountains in the distance, which was romantic.

With the woman who’s now my second ex-wife, I took a train from the English Channel to Paris, and a few days later an overnight sleeper to Barcelona.

The following year found me on a train alone from Edinburgh to Inverness and a few days later, with a new traveling companion in the form of a lovely American anthropologist, aboard a train from Inverness to the craggy coast of Scotland.

From there we ferried to the Isle of Skye.

I stood outside, six days later, as my traveling companion, leaned out the train window (just like in the movies) as it pulled from the station in Chester, England, taking her to Wales. My ride, an hour later, went to London.

I never saw her again.

Again with my second ex-wife, I took a train from Los Mochis, Mexico, to Chihuahua with an overnight at the Copper Canyon. After a following night in a Chihuahua hotel, we took a jammed, third-class train to Ciudad Juárez.

That was in the 1980s, and it was my last train ride.

Waffles & snowflakes

waffles

WE’RE A HEALTH-conscious couple, and we watch what we eat. It’s partly why we are so slim and beautiful.

Although we love waffles, we rarely eat them because they are not healthy. However, special occasions call for celebration, and we decided Wednesday morning to breakfast on waffles, a Trump fiesta with Canadian maple syrup.

However, just as my child bride was about to turn on the blender and waffle iron, the electricity went out, and it stayed out for an hour due to work in the street.

So we ate the usual cereal, but with a grin. At least I was grinning. My lovely companion still is uncertain about Trump, being Mexican and listening to Mexican news sources, which are just as left-wing as CNN and MSNBC.

There is no Mexican version of Fox or Breitbart.

However, she’s as conservative as I am, and she knows that I always know best, so she’s coming around, slowly.

Mexico has focused entirely on Trump’s border wall and his sometimes ill-phrased statements about Mexicans.

They know nothing about other U.S. issues like tax cuts, veterans’ matters,  federal debt, entitlements, BLM, Islamic terrorism, Mohammedan “refugees,” safe spaces,  PC lunacy, Common Core, joblessness and so on.

Alas, to Mexicans, it’s all about them and their God-given right to sneak across the border whenever they feel like it.

Our waffle extravaganza was delayed one day, but not canceled. We waffled our hearts out yesterday instead.

Like election night, it was very tasty.

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01_snowflake_1Left-wing snowflakes are in a state of hysteria and meltdown. Here are some hilarious examples:

  1. A guy named Jerry Kang, who is UCLA’s vice chancellor for “equity, diversity and inclusion,” held an event last night to process the shocking election results.
  2. At Cornell University, a “cry-in” was held on the Quad. “I’m quite terrified, honestly,” one snowflake opined.
  3. Thousands of poor losers blocked the entrance to Trump Tower in Chicago. They said they are against fascism, racism and war. Where this stuff is breaking out in the wake of the election is not clear.
  4. Snowflake high school students and teachers, about 1,500 of them,  staged a walkout Wednesday in California to protest Trump’s fair-and-square election victory. They’re just not gonna take it, you hear?
  5. In New York, thousands of leftists took to the streets howling obscenities about Trump’s victory, “rape culture,” racism and all that silly razzmatazz.

I remember the day following the shocking (to conservatives) re-election in 2012 of Weepy Barry.

We were gobsmacked!

But did we stage cry-ins? Did we block entrances to buildings? Did Republican ghetto-dwellers riot in the streets, as happened in Oakland after the Trump victory?

Of course not. We just hoped for a better day.

And here it is!

Who’s the vulgarian?

vulgar

DEFINITION OF vulgar, says dictionary.com:

Ignorance of or lack of good breeding or taste.

Another online source, thefreedictionary.com:

Deficient in taste, consideration or refinement.

Donald Trump is often accused of vulgarity. It’s a charge, I think, that springs primarily from his campaign reference to Megyn Kelly’s menstrual cycle, which decidedly was not The Donald’s finest hour.

But the charge of vulgarity rests on other things. He spouts politically incorrect phrases — I salute him for that — and his current politics run counter to the Democrat Party’s.

On Trump’s worst days, he would not be welcome at Miss Manners’ soirees. On his best days, he’d fit right in.

Let’s take a look now at how President Barack Hussein Obama — or Weepy Barry, as I always prefer to call him — measures on the same vulgarity scale.

Weepy Barry was expected to heal racial divisions before he took office. What he has done is exacerbate them.

Take the Trayvon Martin case. Weepy Barry opined that Trayvon could have been his son, a very inappropriate statement that lacked good breeding and taste.

In spite of Olympian efforts by locals and feds, they couldn’t convict George Zimmerman because Zimmerman shot Trayvon in self-defense as both witnesses and Zimmerman’s bloodied body indicated beyond any doubt.

Weepy Barry’s siding with Trayvon was vulgar because it was “deficient in good breeding and taste.”

It was also colossally un-presidential.

On the international stage, Israel has been America’s best ally in the Middle East for decades, which all presidents have acknowledged and embraced. Until Weepy Barry.

Israel is the eternally troubled area’s only free society. I and others define free society as one that embraces tolerance. Israel represses neither women nor other religions.

Weepy Barry’s turning his back to Israel is vulgar because it is “deficient in taste and consideration.” Flipping the finger to an old and faithful friend is extremely vulgar.

Weepy Barry skipped the funeral of Supreme Court Justice Scalia, which showed a “lack of good breeding.”

That Weepy Barry visits Mohammedan mosques while refusing to utter the phrase “Muslim terror” is something lacking in “taste, consideration and refinement.”

Vulgarity comes in all shapes and sizes.

If Trump replaces Weepy Barry in the Oval Office, we’ll simply swap a mulatto vulgarian from Chicago with a blond vulgarian from New York City.

Or if Hillary wins, a blonde vulgarian from Chicago. Yes, Chicago, not Arkansas.

The young organizer

THIS RECENTLY discovered video shows the young Barry, in his mid-30s, delivering a talk on his book Dreams from My Father. It’s long, almost an hour, but well worth the watch.

It’s very revealing. It shows how very smooth the man is.  Of course, he’s long had a reputation for eloquence, something I utterly fail to see. I find him quite wooden. But here, not being president or even running for office, he’s more natural.

His racial conflicts are clear. A perceptive observer easily concludes that he’s not comfortable with having white grandparents. He obviously identifies with his black half, not the white. I have a theory about mixed-race people, especially when the two sides are such stark contrasts. My belief is that these people have a big bunch of inner turmoil.

Everybody wants to belong to a tribe, to feel they have “their people.” It’s our nature. This can be manifested in many areas, occupationally, economically, educationally, nationally and, of course, racially, perhaps the most blatant, certainly the most visually obvious.

My tribe is white Southern American Gothic, subset of educated and above-average smarts.

What is Barry’s tribe? Hawaiian, Indonesian, black, white, American, Kansan, Chicagoan? He seems not to know, but for whatever reason, he’s chosen the black tribe which comes with loads of baggage, especially in the United States.

This confusion led Barry into radicalism. He refers in the video to a man named Frank in Hawaii “who schooled me.” Frank, it turns out, was Frank Marshall Davis, an angry, black, journalist, poet and labor activist and, according to some, a communist. At least the FBI kept an official eye on him.

Barry’s life, as we all know but many choose to ignore, has lots of links to unsavory, left-wing, sometimes violent, extremists: Davis, Ayers, Alinsky, Wright, et al.

America these days is awash in racial and sexual conflict and adolescent attitudes. As America anguishes ad nauseam about who is racist and who is not, who is sexist and who is not, who is anti-gay and who is not, the shrinking world beyond its borders spins increasingly out of control.

This will end badly.

I’m reading Dinesh D’Souza’s informative book America: Imagine a World Without Her. Let’s look briefly at two words that D’Souza focuses on: guilt and theft.

America feels guilty about its slavery days.* This was the primary reason Barry was elected twice to the presidency. His economic policies are based on the leftist notion of theft. Wealth is a zero-sum proposition. The successful have what they have due to its being stolen from the less successful.

Thus, redistribution, “fairness” and the infamous “You didn’t build that remark.

To these people, wealth is not created. It is simply stolen. Indeed, Barry’s conflicted worldview runs counter to liberal democracy, wealth-creating capitalism, and liberty.

The video is an hour well spent. He’s mighty smooth.

* * * *

* Slavery has existed through most of history across wide swaths of the Earth, and it still exists today, especially in the Middle East and Africa. It was hardly a phenomenon restricted to the American South or even to white owners. Indeed, 19th century American slavery was enabled by African blacks who captured and sold rival Africans.