Instead of an Apocalypse - The American Spectator | USA News and Politics
Instead of an Apocalypse
Fire in Butte County (YouTube screenshot)


God help us. The New York Times says that conditions in California are “apocalyptic.” What a pitiful piece of reporting. California is an enormous state. Yes, much of it is in the northern part of the state where the “environmentalists” would not allow forest management and much of that is burning. They made sure there was lots of dry, dead forest to burn and now we’re paying the price.

But right here where I am, it’s very far from “apocalyptic.” I look out the window of my kitchen and my pool is a glittering, alluring blue. I’ll swim there later and I will love it. That ain’t the apocalypse. It’s more like paradise.

She is precisely what Jesus the Christ preached for us man and woman to be.

My wife is in bed reading her endless supply of mysteries. I look at my wife and I LITERALLY fall to my knees next to her bed. She is a saint. She is as close to perfect as could be. In fact, I would call her beyond perfect. She is forgiving. Kind. Intelligent. Beautiful. She is precisely what Jesus the Christ preached for us man and woman to be. But very few of us came even close. Alex, my wifey, did.

I often ask her how she got to be so perfect. She says she was just born an ordinary person but that it helped that her parents worshiped her. They didn’t tell her what a loser she was and how the other boys and girls in the neighborhood were not as smart as she was but worked harder and therefore would go farther in life than she would. She said her father and mother found no faults in her at all.

Then her maternal grandparents, Big Mama and Big Daddy, also worshiped her.
But it’s more than that. She has been touched by the spirit of God at His best. She’s more than mortal.

How did I get her to be my wife not once but twice? She’s a literal goddess. And as I think about it, I have had other women in my life who were saints. But definitely no one compared with Alex. She’s a Christian on a scale I would have considered impossible until she came along.

I spent the afternoon tutoring a close friend about the truth on Donald Trump as we know it. She’s in a prestigious, super-expensive college here in California. Her teacher in this class we are working on is telling the students that Trump is a warmonger and purveyor of violence. He has some jive nonsense about how Trump ordered the National Guard to “savagely” beat the “demonstrators” outside The White House recently.

Of course, it’s utter idiocy. The White House has to be defended against arsonists and vandals and murderers. Along with the Capitol and the Supreme Court, it’s the ultimate symbol of the nation and the Constitution. We just cannot allow a symbol of this importance to be harmed. And Trump did not order any special violence towards the rioters. That’s just agitprop.

The teacher also said Trump was preventing blacks from getting trials. “White people who are accused of crimes get lawyers and trials. Blacks are just thrown into prison.” That is absolute nonsense but a teacher at a prestige college is teaching these things to innocent young minds. My wife was once a public defender. She knows the truth.

Terrifying. It’s happening all over the country. I just cannot imagine how we will survive. Now sports events are used to agitate against America. God help us. I am SO happy I grew up in the good times when we were proud to be in America. As a Jew, I was on my hands and knees with gratitude. This truly is Eretz America, God’s special place for us Jews. How can so many of my fellow Jews hate America?

My young friend and my pal Glenn Miller Oyan, a Filipino Baptist Minister, and I went out to Mr. Chow for supper. It was fabulously good and I was happy that my student friend had learned a little something. Trump, as I corrected her teacher, like Nixon, was a peacemaker. In the Middle East. In the Far East. In Europe. Above all, in America.

This country is so great. My wife is so great. Trump is so great. I am blessed beyond words. I was feeling pretty good about it all.

Then, it was all ruined when a close relative told me over the phone what a racist dog I was for wanting to suppress the rioters. I had to pray a lot to get through the night. And my stomach was wildly tortured. “When will this fearful slumber end?” When I see my wife’s smile.

Ben Stein
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Ben Stein is a writer, actor, economist, and lawyer living in Beverly Hills and Malibu. He writes “Ben Stein’s Diary” for every issue of The American Spectator.
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