Tag Archives: leftists

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.

* * * *

* 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.

Two party gals

PICTURES ARE worth thousands of words.

On the left is Rosa DeLauro, a U.S. representative from Connecticut.* Can you guess which party she belongs to?

On the right is Tomi Lahren. She is not a politician. She is a well-known television political commentator. Can you guess which party she belongs to?

DeLauro came to my attention yesterday due to a speech she made Friday during the debate on the ObamaCare replacement. Here is a short excerpt of her rant.

The ObamaCare replacement, something abysmal from Paul Ryan, was pulled at the last moment, thank God, but that’s not the theme of today’s post.

The theme is that these photos illustrate beautifully — literally in Lahren’s case — the difference between today’s Republican and Democrat parties.

Tip of the sombrero to The Gateway Pundit for bringing this to my attention.

* * * *

* Click on DeLauro’s photo to get the full impact, to see her in all her wacky splendor. She’s 73 years old, the Woodstock Generation! She could strut the streets of San Miguel de Allende, and no one would even notice.

Poor black folks

LEFTISTS LOVE to scream racist at all contrary opinions.

And they love all black people and know them to be oppressed by whites. Problem is that black folks in America have not been oppressed by whites since around the 1940s.

That’s the early part of the previous century. And then only in some neighborhoods.

Here’s a video by an intelligent woman who will ‘splain to you why so many blacks in America are poor.

Nutshell: It ain’t racism. It ain’t lack of equal opportunity.

It’s bad behavior. It’ll get you every time.

Out of the dark

DARKNESS IS the new black.

The leftist media has cited “darkness” repeatedly since the election of President Trump. The Washington Post, more leftist even than The New York Times, recently added “Democracy Dies in Darkness” to its online masthead.

The Post says it has nothing to do with Trump.

Yeah, right.

I don’t want to be associated with leftists and their dark obsessions in any form, so I am abandoning entirely the dark photos I’ve used here for avatars for a long time.

Gone is the black hat and the dark bebop cap in black & white photos. I am out of the cave. The new face to the world is this, which was taken about 12 years ago.

New

I am enjoying a churro* in the restaurant owned in downtown San Miguel de Allende by Mexican actress Margarita Gralia.

Old

While I added this photo to my comments avatar weeks ago, it was only today that I made it official by adding it to the Felipe Page up thataway.

This change has lifted a darkness from my spirit. I feel more upbeat, happier and fulfilled. Let’s leave the darkness to Democrats and other sourpusses.

Conservatives are happy, colorful people.

* * * *

* Churros sometimes are sold filled with something like chocolate. This is an abomination. Churros should always be eaten au naturel.

Southern Roots

beach
Florida, 1961. Father on left, me in middle, friend on right.*

MY FATHER was born in North Georgia on the edge of Atlanta during the First World War.

I was born in Atlanta during the Second World War. My father’s parents were born around 1890, which means I am just two family generations south of the Victorian Age.

My father’s parents’ parents were born shortly after the end of the Civil War. I’m not sure where, probably North Georgia. If they were not born there, they moved there.

My father was an arrowhead collector, a newspaperman, an excellent writer and poet, a boozer who shunned coffee and tobacco, and he wasn’t much of a father either.

For a while, he was a chicken farmer. He was drafted into the U.S. Army late in the Second World War and sent to Korea on a troop ship. He didn’t like that one little bit.

Yes, he was in Korea during the Second World War, not the Korean War, which came later. He never fired a shot at anyone, and nobody ever shot at him. He was a typist.

pop
1987

The war ended, and Uncle Sam shipped him back to Georgia. He never traveled anywhere again if he had anything to say about it.

He was not an adventurer.

As I said, he wasn’t much of a father. He had no interest, and it showed. About the only things that interested him were my mother, booze, writing and arrowheads.

He died in Atlanta of a heart attack in 1991. Coincidentally, he was lying in a hospital bed due to some unrelated issue, and was on the verge of being discharged.

He died just moments after brusquely hanging up the phone. He was talking to me. I had called.

He had not called me, of course. He never wrote me a letter in his entire life. He never wrote my sister either.

Those were pre-email days.

Minutes later, my sister phoned to say he was dead.  Age 75, three years older than I am now.

It was Mother’s Day.

I didn’t much like him, but I am just like him. I look like him. I think like him. I sound like him. I think I was a better father, but my daughter might tell you otherwise.

I did make an effort. He never made an effort.

He and I both stopped drinking in our early 50s, but for both of us the damage had already been done, irreparably.

My father was a lifelong leftist. He had witnessed Pinkertons shooting at strikers during the 1930s. For most of my life, I was a leftist too, as was all our family.

Unlike him and the others, I wised up late in life.

Will our many similarities include dying at 75? I hope not because I’m having way too much fun.

* * * *

(Note:  The inimitable Jennifer Rose recently noted the 20th anniversary of her mother’s death. This got me to thinking about my father, which led to the above. I wrote about my mother after she died at 90 in 2009.)

* The lad on the right in the photo is John Zimmerman. We were good friends. He went on to become a pilot in the Vietnam War and later a captain for a major airline. He sent me this photo a few years ago when we reconnected on Facebook.

California Rebs

(California was a magic spot when I lived there a spell in the early 1960s. But no more. Today’s post is written by Victor Davis Hanson, a historian with the Hoover Institution.)

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9942878-confederate-flag-rendered-with-fabric-texture1MORE THAN 60 percent of California voters went for Hillary Clinton — a margin of more than 4 million votes over Donald Trump.

Since Mrs. Clinton’s defeat, the state seems to have become unhinged over President Trump’s unexpected election.

“Calexit” supporters brag that they will have enough signatures to qualify for a ballot measure calling for California’s secession from the United States.

Some California officials have talked of the state not remitting its legally obligated tax dollars to the federal government. They talk of expanding its sanctuary cities into an entire sanctuary state that would nullify federal immigration law.

Californians also now talk about the value of the old Confederate idea of “states’ rights.”

They whine that their state gives far too much revenue to Washington and gets too little back.

Residents boast about how their cool culture has little in common with the rest of the U.S. Some Californians claim the state could easily go it alone, divorced from the United States.

Sound a bit familiar?

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Today’s leftist

In December 1860, South Carolina seceded from the Union in furor over the election of Abraham Lincoln.

Lincoln did not receive 50 percent of the popular vote. He espoused values the state insisted did not reflect its own.

In eerie irony, liberal California is now mirror-imaging the arguments of reactionary South Carolina and other Southern states that vowed to go it alone in 1860 and 1861.

Like California, South Carolina insisted it could nullify federal laws within its state borders.

Like California, South Carolina promised to withhold federal revenues.

Like California, South Carolina and other Confederate states bragged that their unique economies did not need the Union.

They boasted that “King Cotton” had created the wealthiest class in the United States. Silicon Valley now often assumes that Google, Facebook, Apple and others are near-trillion-dollar companies that are a world unto their own.

Slavery and the extravagant income from cotton warped the Southern economy and culture. A wealthy plantation elite, with its millions of exploited slaves, ensured that there would be virtually no middle-, working- or small-business class.

Huge estates were surrounded by the impoverished shacks of servants. Hardscrabble farmers or small businessmen often fled westward to escape the shackles of wealth disparity.

The export-dependent Southern elite demanded unfettered free trade. It offered bitter resistance to Northern protectionism.

South Carolina elites were opposed to federal infrastructure projects such as the building of roads, canals, bridges and reservoirs, and other such unwelcome “progress.”

Confederates boasted that their antebellum culture was more romantic, natural, pristine, healthy and moral than was the bustle, grime and hyper-capitalism of Northern industrialism.

Southern aristocrats believed that they were culturally superior — in terms of music, art and literature — to other Americans.

Of course, this is 2017, not 1860, and California is superliberal, not an antebellum slave-owning society.

Nonetheless, what is driving California’s current efforts to nullify federal law and the state’s vows to secede from the United States are some deeper — and creepy — similarities to the arrogant and blinkered Old South.

California is likewise becoming a winner-take-all society. It hosts the largest numbers of impoverished and the greatest number of rich people of any state in the country.

Eager for cheap service labor, California has welcomed in nearly a quarter of the nation’s undocumented immigrants.*

California has more residents living in poverty than any other state. It is home to one-third of all the nation’s welfare recipients.

The income of California’s wealthy seems to make them immune from the effects of the highest basket of sales, income and gas taxes in the nation. The poor look to subsidies and social services to get by. Over the last 30 years, California’s middle classes have increasingly fled the state.

“Gone With the Wind”-like wealth disparity in California is shocking to the naked eye.

Mostly poor Redwood City looks like it’s on a different planet from tony nearby Atherton or Woodside.

The California elite, wishing to keep the natural environment unchanged, opposes internal improvements and sues to stop pipelines, aqueducts, reservoirs, freeways and affordable housing for the coastal poor.

California’s crumbling roads and bridges sometimes resemble those of the old rural South. The state’s public schools remain among the nation’s poorest. Private academies are booming for the offspring of the coastal privileged, just as they did among the plantation class of the South.

California, for all its braggadocio, cannot leave the U.S. or continue its states’-rights violations of federal law. It will eventually see that the new president is not its sickness, nor are secession and nullification its cures.

Instead, California is becoming a reactionary two-tier state of masters and serfs whose culture is as peculiar and out of step with the rest of the country as was the antebellum South’s.

No wonder the state lashes out at the rest of the nation with threatened updated versions of the Old Confederacy’s secession and nullification.

But such reactionary Confederate obstructionism is still quite an irony given California’s self-righteous liberal preening.

* * * *

* Old Felipe prefers “illegal aliens.” He also continues what appears to be a one-man war against the use of “liberal” and “progressive” when referring to leftists.

Two to tango

WE MEXICANS are really incensed. We have been disrespected, as they say in the ‘hood. Oh, the effrontery!

The pinche (look it up) Gringo President Trump wants to build a wall along the border. What a slap in our faces.

And how undeserving!

We’re mad as hell, and we’re going to stop shopping at Sears, Costco and Walmart. Of course, that would only put the Mexican employees out of work, but it’s a price worth paying, shooting ourselves in the foot.

Those of you above the border cannot imagine how insulted we Mexicans are at this wall idea. Insulted, I tell you!

Here’s a post we might have titled Border Wall for Dummies. It  is the entire nasty matter in a nutshell.

First, both nations are equally — well, almost — at fault. For decades now, both Democrat and Republican administrations have ignored or even tacitly encouraged the immigrant invasion over the southern border.

Second, millions of Mexicans have been sneaking into the United States, tunneling below ground, climbing over fences, flying in with tourist visas and overstaying, backpacking across the arid deserts, you name it.

Some have been my relatives.

And all are in the United States illegally, millions, building neighborhoods, packing “sanctuary cities,” creating Little Mexicos all over the place.

Finding enchiladas has never been so simple.

It finally reached a boiling point for U.S. citizens, and that’s what put Trump into the Oval Office.

Americans are divided almost equally into two camps. On the left are the people who croon Kumbaya, reject national borders entirely and sincerely believe that all peoples, with a tiny bit of effort, can live in eternal peace.

In spite of there being absolutely no historical evidence to support this conviction. Quite the contrary.

It is the addled Flower Power mindset of the 1960s that has filtered down through the generations, and still thrives among a healthy percentage of the population.

These Kumbaya crooners, ironically, are the ones rioting in the streets and punching Republicans in the name of love.

On the Great Divide’s other side are people who believe in borders, who know that a nation is a tribe with a common culture, language, religion, race, something that merits and requires protection.

Reams of historical evidence support this fact.

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TWO TO TANGO

Here in Mexico, we have a couple of notorious Gringo enclaves, particularly San Miguel de Allende and Ajijic, Jalisco.

new-imageMexico’s government puts the number of Americans living in Mexico at around 700,000.*

It’s very probable the overwhelming majority are here with visas or — like me — have become citizens, although that’s not very common.

Most are spread out quietly all over the nation, and most mind their own business. Mexican law forbids them from political activity, and marching in the streets waving U.S. flags and demanding “rights” would be outrageous.

You know, like illegals do in the United States.

It would lead to deportation.

Mexicans mostly ignore San Miguel and think it’s a cute place to visit. However, if there were hundreds of San Miguels instead of one, it would be very different.

And it would require hundreds of San Miguels and Ajijics across Mexico to be comparable to what now exists in the United States, to create an equivalency.

If there were hundreds of San Miguels full of Gringos here illegally, refusing to learn Spanish, opening little businesses selling grits, ham and red-eye gravy, there would be a national outcry. We would be apoplectic!

We would go postal!

Then the shoe would be on the other foot, and Mexicans might understand President Trump’s historic trip to the White House with a tad more clarity.

No nation really wants to be multicultural. Just up to a point, it’s interesting. After that, it gets nasty.

(No nation on earth apart from the white populations of North America and Western Europe embraces multiculturalism. Just those lands where hippies reigned in the 1960s. The Soviets shielded Eastern Europe from Flower Power.)

Mexico, in cahoots with the Democrat and Republican political establishments, brought us Trump.

It takes two to tango.

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* You’ll often read that one million Americans live in Mexico. This is a myth that has existed since before I moved south 17 years ago. I find the official 700,000 number a little difficult to believe, but perhaps it includes part-timers. And perhaps I misread, and it includes all foreigners, not just Gringos.

(Note: I saw on Twitter this morning that our President Peña Nieto has announced a new program to support and facilitate continuing education for young Mexicans who return from the United States. More positive effects from Trump.

(Furthermore, about 60 percent of Mexico’s exports currently go to the United States. Mexico recently announced it will begin widening its trade with other nations. This diversification is a positive thing, bought to us by Trump. )

Wall foolishness

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Note to Americans: There’s already lots of wall.

PRESIDENT TRUMP came out of the gate like gangbusters during his first week in office. Kudos to  him!

He restrained the ham-fisted leftists running the Environmental Protection Agency.  He cut off federal aid to law-flaunting leftists running Sanctuary Cities.

He canceled the cash that left-wing Barry had funneled in his waning White House days to Palestinian terrorists.

He revived the Keystone Pipeline. He canceled the horrendous Catch-and-Release policy for illegals.

And Trump declared Israel great again, reversing Barry’s leftist, anti-Semitic tomfoolery.

But there’s one very dumb thing my boy Donald is doing: this business about Mexico paying for a border wall.

Did Israel demand that Mohammedans pay for the walls it’s erected? Lots of good it would have done.

Do you expect your next-door neighbor to buy the deadbolt for your house’s front door?

Nations who want to secure their borders, and all nations should, especially successful ones, must finance their border walls themselves.

That Mexico would pay for the wall was a good campaign slogan, appealing to low-information voters. But the campaign is over. Extend the wall, but don’t expect Mexico to pay for it, and don’t force it via other means.

Keeping your house locked is your own responsibility.

And Mexico should build a wall on its southern border. Don’t expect Guatemala to pay for it.

Music men

band

OUR MOUNTAINTOP is a magnet for tourists, especially during the Christmas holidays, Easter Week and the Day of the Dead. Most of the tourists are Mexicans.

But in all the years I’ve lived here, I don’t recall our having the hordes that we have right now.

We live on the outskirts of town, and every day we face a long line of creeping traffic heading downtown. Luckily, there is an alternative route, but I’m not going to advertise it.

A twist to this year’s Christmas season is a gasoline crisis. Lots of gas stations are out of fuel, and those that have some often have long lines of cars. A number of Mexican states are affected, and nobody seems to know why.

Rumors abound.

Our “Energy Reform” starts Sunday, the first day of 2017. Gradually, the Pemex monopoly will fall as foreign gas stations are phased in around the nation.

In theory this will lower prices, but on Sunday prices will increase from 15 to 20 percent, so people are angry.

But Mexicans are usually angry about something or other. Along with the Energy Reform, we’re getting a reform of the legal system, and reform of the educational system.

That latter has the teachers, a gang of union leftists, foaming at the mouth, which tickles me no end.

Mexico is changing.

The last gas crisis, earlier this year, only lasted about a week. The current one has gone on more than two weeks. Nobody seems to know how long it will last. I fill the Honda tank every time I pass an open station with no line.

Mexico is ever entertaining and challenging. If it’s not severed heads rolling down cantina floors or teachers apoplectic at having to take competency tests, it’s something else.

One way to stay mellow is to sit at a sidewalk table on the main plaza with a hot café americano negro, reading my Kindle and sometimes seeing street musicians.

I tipped those old boys in the photo.

And life goes on.