Sunday
Wow, it’s cold here in Los Angeles tonight. It’s hard to believe how cold it is. But the heating of the Earth continues unabated as Trump plays golf.
Anyway, speaking of presidents, isn’t it interesting how many Jews are now in top spots for the Democratic nod? Of all the top contenders, most are Jewish.
Bernie is Jewish, of course, although he’s no special pal of Israel. But he is Jewish, and he’s the first one since Kerry to be at least part Jewish. Bernie, the avowed socialist, is an angry, typical Jewish politician. God bless him and I wish him well (not really), but he is a Jew and he’s the first openly Jewish candidate of a major party.
(I think Barry Goldwater was Jewish, too, but he kept it deeply buried.)
Then there’s “Mike” Bloomberg, who is as Jewish as I am, and I am plenty Jewish. How Mike got so rich is a sort of mystery. His ads say he added 500,000 jobs in New York City when he was mayor. But how is that even remotely possible unless he added half a million civil servants to the employment rolls of Fun City — and the data shows no such thing? Where did those 500,000 jobs come from unless it was from the general national boom, which started with Trump? It’s pretty damned dishonest for “Mike” to say he added those jobs. No way, José. Yes, he kept a lot of people busy checking the content of large-size sodas at restaurants. But what else did he do?
Then there’s Tom Steyer, a fellow Yalie who made money speculating in the stock market. I didn’t think that was a particularly beloved occupation, but I guess it is.
Anyway, we now have it as a virtual certainty that the Democrat nominee will be a follower of the Old Testament. Fine with me, but it’s fascinating that of all these candidates, none is a close friend of Israel. (Bloomberg comes closest.) The Gentile candidate, Donald Trump, is by far Israel’s best friend in government. It’s interesting especially that while the leftists talk about the racism of the GOP, the GOP is by far the most ethnically open of all of the parties.
And by the way, now we’re hearing that the Democrat “dream ticket” would be “Mike” and Hillary. That would be some scary dream. I don’t think we’ve even started to get at Hillary’s evidence destruction and witness maneuvers in the last election and here she is, part of a “dream ticket.”
Well, freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose, as Kris Kristofferson wrote. I think we’re seeing some free-spirited campaign dreaming now.
But speaking of dreaming, last night, Saturday night, I went to a super-great party for Polish Heritage Night at the Beverly Hills Hotel. It was a swell affair, with about 150 incredibly beautiful Polish women in long dresses. Let’s not kid ourselves: Polish women are often ultra-gorgeous, and last night was the crème de la crème.
The event featured a cartoon-style documentary about how Poland suffered in World War II. It was artistic, potent, and impressive. The Polish government made it, and they did a helluva job. There were also awards and speeches recognizing distinguished Polish athletes, and they were a good-looking group, too.
My dear pal Wlady has been urging me to visit Poland for decades, and I really must. The thought that Poland has millions of women who are even remotely as beautiful as the women at that party is intoxicating. Thanks to my pal Anya, who is working on refinancing my house and got me invited to this party, I got to see a genuine wonder of the world: a room full of stunning Polish women.
One of them, as I should have pointed out right away, said that Poland is now so prosperous as a capitalist state that many Polish emigrants who moved to Chicago now want to go back to Poland.
Obviously, unspeakably horrible things happened to my fellow Jews in Poland just before, during, and just after the Second World War. But Poland now seems like a giant amusement park in which the main attraction is good-looking women. I want to go there with Wlady very soon.
Meanwhile, in our beloved America, Jews are riding incredibly high. Can it last? Does it ever last for the Jews? Let’s pray so.
