All my fault

I LEFT THE United States in pretty good condition when I moved over the Rio Bravo in January 2000. Bill Clinton was president, and the stock market was going gangbusters.

Alas, my absence was noted, and the nation went straight to Hell. The stock market started a two-year plunge that year. Then other horrible things began to happen.

Mohammedans attacked New York City. U.S. military expeditions into the Middle East were mucked up.

The economy collapsed in 2008. Would this have happened had I stayed home in Houston? There’s no way to know.

And things grew even worse.

Voters put a left-wing, mulatto community organizer with little useful experience into the White House and then, astonishingly, re-elected him four years later. Kool-Aid moment.

The White House power vacuum emboldened murderous Mohammedans far and wide. Leftists overran American universities, kicking out contrary opinions.

And here we are today.

Manning

The White House’s community organizer freed the traitor Bradley Manning* from prison in January, and Brad will soon do an interview with ABC “News.” Expect sympathy and softballs.

Meanwhile, in New York City, the annual Puerto Rican Day Parade is honoring a Puerto Rican terrorist who took part in fatal, bombing campaigns in the 1970s.

The New York Times prefers to call him “a militant.”

That’s nicer than calling him a murderer.

Furthermore, the City University of New York — a public, tax-funded institution — has invited Mohammedan terrorist supporter, Sharia Law-loving Linda Sarsour to be keynote speaker at a graduation ceremony.

As I look back on the past 17 years and remember the good nation I left compared to what it became immediately on my departure, I cannot avoid thinking that I am the cause.

It troubles my nights. Truly, it does.

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* Manning loves to be called Chelsea these days, which makes me think of Chelsea Clinton who recently said that child marriage and climate change are interconnected. She said this at a CARE National Conference in Washington D.C. where she was introduced as a “thought leader and change agent.” No joke.

A thought leader.

Leftist thuggery

BILL WHITTLE does it again.

Let’s give him a warm Moon welcome. Let him feel the love!

Cement, hammers, nails

HERE’S SOMETHING about Mexico you don’t know if you don’t live here: Our nation’s in a building frenzy. You can hardly drive an urban mile without passing numerous construction projects. You’ll see them on rural miles too.

These can be small, medium or large in scale. Businesses that sell construction materials are ubiquitous.* Trucks carrying material down the road from Point A to Point B are an hourly sight. Cement, rebar, bricks, you name it.

We never stop building here — or renovating.

hammerI view this positively. A nation that’s constantly building is a nation that’s moving ahead, and Mexico is moving forward at a remarkable pace.

(We’re even taking steps to legalize marijuana, and that would be lousy for the narcos and great for the rest of us.)

Construction labor is inexpensive. Compared to the United States, it’s incredibly cheap. I like this, of course.

A man who builds things here is called an albañil. It’s invariably a man. I’ve yet to spot a female albañil.

Mexico knows men and women differ.

A Spanish-English dictionary often defines albañil as bricklayer, but a good albañil does far more than lay bricks. A great albañil is a magician. He can build anything.

Barry Obama, the Mohammedan sympathizer and half-white Hawaiian-Indonesian, would not be able to look an albañil in the eye and say, “You did not build that” because the albañil would have built it, and built it quite well.

(Yes, I can inject politics anywhere.)

Unlike tradesmen in the United States and teachers in Mexico, albañiles are not unionized.  You never encounter them blocking highways because they are out of sorts.

The lack of trade unions is a big reason you can get work done at a very good price south of the Rio Bravo.

Many, perhaps most, get into the profession as children, helping relatives. An albañil now working at the Hacienda began when he was 13. Now 40, he’s remarkably talented.

Perhaps the narcos who find themselves without income due to drug legalization will put down their M16s and turn to honest construction work. There’s lots to be done.

Mexico is on the move.

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* I rarely use two-dollar words, but sometimes it’s fun.