Is Obama a commie or a socialist? This and other musings from an ocean locale.
Here I am out in Malibu. I came out last night to check on things at our house. Right after I got here, a monsoon-like rain began to pour down. Just horrific. Scary. Luckily, I was happy as a clam inside my warm, toasty home.
But I could not stop thinking about the U.S., New Zealand, Australian, and British soldiers fighting in Burma during World War II. They were in real monsoons, day after day, leeches all over them, Japanese soldiers preparing to kill them, sick with dengue fever, malaria, dysentery, exhausted, hungry. Yet they fought on and on and on.
I could not stop thinking about U.S. forces in Vietnam in the jungle. Stepping on pongee sticks designed to poison them and kill them, mortared, sniped at, exhausted, shunned by the country that sent them there. Yet they fought magnificently and fought the Communists to a victory that Congress then snatched away from them.
They did not have a toasty home to return to. They did not have clean pajamas and shrimp. They had nothing but courage.
Well, I know I am a broken record on this subject, but I am enraged that Mr. Obama is proposing steep cuts in military benefits in terms of retirement health care and family health care. That is the last thing we should be cutting.
This has all become even more of an obsession with me than usual upon watching The World at War over and over again. I respectfully tell you that while the series has a distinct left-wing slant, and insanely includes Alger Hiss as an expert on U.S. defense policy without identifying him as a spy, The World at War is a work of genius. You must watch it.
I tried to read a long article by a woman with a beautiful Irish name in the Atlantic. I could not finish it for all of the self-reference, but then I thought, “Well, we writers are self-referential. What the heck.” It was a fine article.
Then I read a long, long, long, long article in another issue of the Atlantic by a simply beautiful woman named Kate Bolick, editor of Veranda magazine, about why she is single at the old age of 36. I really had to laugh. Kate, 36 is not old. It is very, very young, and you are a stunning and brilliant woman, and if you want to get married, you will. She goes into all kinds of strange history and economics and sociology to explain why she’s not married. It reminds me of Marx writing Das Kapital just as a way of venting his envy of his rich relatives who were kapitalists. What a lot of damage that horrible man did.
Kate, let yourself off the hook. You have a great career. You are gorgeous. You are young. Do not work so hard trying to prove a simple point: it is hard to find a good man. It is especially hard when you have been raised by a feminist, confused mother; she apparently was. Kate, be happy. You are a triumph as a human being. A genuine triumph.
By the way, the author tells of her ex-boyfriend asking her to help pick out his clothes for his wedding to another woman. How strange that is. I wonder if Ms. Bolick realizes how much that tells about him.
Then she really upset me by talking about how young people now have something called “the hook up” where they get roaring drunk, then go home and have sex with someone they hardly know and then talk about how inadequate their “partner” was. How horrible. What a cruel world this has become. “The hook up” sounds thoroughly awful. I greatly would prefer time with Julie Good Girl.
Anyway, I had (as noted) shrimp for dinner, then decided I was too tired to drive back to Beverly Hills, so I slept out here in Malibu next to my wonderful German short-haired pointer, the aforementioned Julie Good Girl.
I awakened this morning to hear on the radio about that Obama gaffe when he was talking to Mr. Medvedev of Russia. Apparently Medvedev was complaining that the U.S. was still seeking to defend itself with a missile shield. Obama promised that once he had won the upcoming election, he would disarm at a pace the Russians would like.
It is terrifying that he’s President.