Thanksgiving Day. Here I am in beautiful downtown Greenville, South Carolina. The sky is speckled with clouds and the town is beautiful, It has been a terrible few days. Two days ago was my 70th birthday, and wow, was I sick. Food poisoning? Intestinal flu? Who knows but it was HORRIBLE.
Plus, I don’t like being 70, although the alternative is worse — maybe. Maybe I will be in paradise. No, I am already in paradise. I have my Big Wifey here in Greenville with me. I have my son and my INCREDIBLY beautiful daughter in law, The Kitten, and my cruelly, unbearably cute granddaughter, Coco. Plus I have my dear friend and driver, Bob Noah.
Plus, back home in Beverly Hills, I have my dog, Julie, my dear, dear friend Phil Demuth and my nag, Michael Chinch.
In New York, I have my super sister and her super family. In Idaho, I have my brave Tim and Penny, the people at Bottle Bay and the fab restaurants, the magnificent Vissers, the best looking family on earth, my favorite store on earth, Sandpoint Super Drug, the whole town of Sandpoint, which represents heaven to me. If the eternity were Sandpoint in July, that would be awfully nice.
I have a lot of friends on the Internet — Joel Block, Larry Lissitzyn, Peter Bloch, Julie and David Eisenhower, and, towering above all else, my agent, Marcia Hurwitz. Beloved Ellis. Beloved David Paglin. Ona, whom I will always love. Arthur Best, genius and pal. Carl and David, friends of my youth.
I have Wlady and Bob, pals and colleagues. My wonderful friends Peter J. G, and R1M, and all of the great folks at Fox, especially Dagen.
In the fridge is food aplenty. Nearby is sushi aplenty. I am a blessed man. I have the Beverly Hills Hotel Polo Lounge and Pool. The Italian restaurant, Nonna. My wife’s and my little Shabu place in West L.A., Shabu Hachi.
In DC, at my apartments, I have a whole staff of wonderful men and women. Plus I have my darling Tam.
Love her so much she will never know.
Most of all, I have a certain 12-step program which knows all, forgives all. And Jane. And Heather. And my divinely gifted manicurist and pal, Mickey. In Greenville, my beautiful Waffle House Hostess, Lattice.
I have many homes, many cars, many boats. Too much for me to afford right now, but I am a happy guy.
And above all, my shining goddess, Li’l Alex. The saint of saints.
Anyway, the night of the 24th, when wifey and I landed at GSP, the looting and theft and attempted murders were going on in Ferguson. It was an amazing sight. Where the heck were the police? And why did the Mainstream Media over and over again call them protesters?
They were not protesters. They were and are gangster thieves. They stole everything they could get their hands on. They tried to call reporters. I saw with my own old eyes a woman reporter, an incredibly brave woman reporter, for CNN get hit in the head by either a soda bottle or a large rock. I hope the thrower gets sent to prison for life.
The coverage on CNN was a bit strange, making apologies for people who were trying to kill their reporters. But that’s media.
In the aftermath of the thievery and assault, there have been some great articles. The best one by far was by Jason Riley in the WSJ. He pointed out that the black populace is vastly more crime prone than the white populace. If the “black leaders” really were on the ball, they would not focus on one deadly encounter with the police — as bad as that was — and instead think about the thousands, tens of thousands of black youths killed by other black youths over the years. The problem is not police brutality. The problem is black on black brutality, which the brave police are trying to prevent.
The tragedy in Ferguson, as Mr Riley said, is what blacks do to other blacks. That’s the problem in the whole country. I have written about it here many times: blacks kill blacks at a staggering rate compared with any other major crime metric.
The “black leaders” never mention that because 1.) There is no media coverage in any story that does not allege white racism, and 2.) The black leaders are afraid of the Crips and Bloods. They are not going to criticize someone who might kill them.
You really should see the data on black murders ad rapes. They are so much higher on a per 100,000 basis than the rates for whites it is terrifying.
It is not just crime in the black part of the American underclass that’s the problem. It is illegitimacy. It is child abuse and neglect. It is drugs. It is bad, bad, bad attitude about work and sex and violence and alcohol.
The black underclass is in severe crisis. I see only one lasting solution: turning to God.
The only master both blacks and whites must answer to is the God of love. I see the black people who are churchgoers leading perfectly decent lives. The ones who worship violence are the ones in deep trouble.
How I wish that every American could see what I have seen in my 12-step program: a loving God in whom you trust will help you shoulder your burdens.
I know black people have suffered TERRIBLY in America in the past. Police brutality was a terrible and very real thing. The oppression of blacks was a national crime.
I know their pain but nowhere near the way they do. But legal oppression is long gone. Race segregation in school is long gone. The “black leaders” can try to reignite the flames of anger and it works for Al. It does not work for the blacks who truly want a good life.
Many years ago, I was a ghostwriter for a VERY FAMOUS black leader and I watched him speak. His simple message was this: “Protest all you want about discrimination. I will be right there with you. But if you learn to plumb a house or wire an office building, you can always provide your family with a good life.” And I will add, and if you turn your life over to God and mean it, HE WILL SAVE YOU. Black and white, Republican and Democrat, young and old, man and woman, God is there to bring you peace.
“Pray for Peace” it used to say on postage stamps’ cancellation in the 1950s. It is ALWAYS time to pray for peace, especially in our own hearts. The peace that passeth all understanding.
One more thing: I grew up in comfort. Both parents were present. There was never violence. So I cannot readily compare myself with a black kid in a riot who had a very different background. I can only say that I have seen it in prisons and jails, and God works miracles if you believe in Him.
Thank you, God. Thank you for this blessed life and for my wife, the goddess of my life. Thank you for America, most blessed spot on earth.
Much more to come.
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