Editor’s Note No. 1:
This woman’s take on our current cultural upheaval is the same as ours at The American Landscape.
As we mentioned in a recent post, over FIVE years ago I was blessed to publish the following in Townhall.com ...
Americans Cannot Be Silent in the Face of Anti-Semitism in the US
Sadly, however, in light of what we are witnessing metastasize today across our nation, it appears that it was to no avail.
Does that mean, however, that the truths I attempted to express back then weren’t prescient, or do they remain wholly relevant to the events we are witnessing evolve in the America of today?
You be the judge …
For The American Landscape’s free subscribers, here is an excerpt to give you a taste of what it was like even back then:
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Americans Cannot be Silent in the Face of Anti-Semitism in the U.S.
Townhall.com — January 2019
Last Thursday, authorities disclosed that, included among items found in the Florida home of a man named Walter Stolper, 73, there were three mugs: one bearing an oath to Hitler; another with a Hitler Santa; and — were that not enough —yet another with a smiling Nazi holding a young girl.
And in rooms beyond his cozy kitchen, the police also found a knife bearing a Nazi emblem, an SS flag, a framed Nazi eagle logo, and — perhaps to provide Mr. Stolper some light bedtime reading — a copy of Hitler’s “Mein Kampf.”
This was the chachka seized pursuant to his arrest last year for attempted murder.
Allegedly, a security videotape recorded him pouring gallons of gasoline down the trash chute of his Miami Beach condo in order to — in his words — “burn down the building with all the f***ing Jews.”
Yet, were this unvarnished display of hatred not sad enough, sadder still is the reality that, in the America of today, it would appear Mr. Stolper is not alone in the way he thinks. Note the following open displays of anti-Semitism that have occurred elsewhere just since his arrest:
October 2018 — The murder of eleven Jews in Pittsburgh’s Tree of Life Synagogue by a man whose social media bio included the statement "Jews are the children of Satan”;
October 2018 — The beating of an elderly Jew in Brooklyn on his way to a synagogue by a man who stopped his car, ran over and began viciously attacking him while yelling “Allah”;
November 2018 — The attempted murder of a group of identifiable Orthodox Jews standing in front of their Shul in Los Angeles by a man who, after driving past them, made an abrupt U-turn and began screaming anti-Semitic slurs as he then tried to run them over; and
December 2018 — The doctor in Ohio who was fired by the Cleveland Clinic where she worked for boasting on her social media of her plan to kill Jews by giving them the wrong medications.
And all this is before you get to the anti-Semitic revelations of people like Women’s March leader Linda Sarsour and her friend Louis Farrakhan, who only recently reaffirmed his long-standing hatred of Jews before an approving crowd in Detroit with his now infamous proclamation: “I’m not an anti-Semite. I’m anti-Termite.”
To be sure, many in America have rightly condemned these people and their anti-Semitism for the evil it is. The questions that linger, however, are whether such instances of hate are merely deviant aberrations occurring within an otherwise healthy society? Or are they in reality only symptoms of an even more viral and potentially lethal form of such evil presently metastasizing in the inner core of America’s culture?
Alarmingly, it would seem the latter is the case, as it appears that our society is allowing a strain of anti-Semitism to become normalized by those in leadership who are willfully choosing to either overlook or, in some instances, even embrace the evil it presents…
Editor’s Note No. 2:
This week, we witnessed violence erupt on the UCLA campus between anti-Semites and those who wished to protest against their hate. The question this left most folks with was, where were the police?
Now over 50 years ago, there was another protest of similar magnitude at the exact same location that I remember vividly.
I know this, because I was there.
In 1972, hundreds of anti-Viet Nam War protestors had gathered and seized control of Murphy Hall — UCLA’s Administration Building. But, back then the police response was quite different, and far more decisive, than it appears to be today.
Interestingly, I witnessed that protest for the most part from a window in one of the buildings — Haines Hall — that today still overlooks the exact same Dickson Plaza where the riotous mobs of anti-Semitic protestors were “camping” this week.
No … I was not a protester … but I was a young, dumb student who just couldn’t resist going to that part of campus to see what the commotion was all about.
For those who may be interested, that whole exciting — and truly frightening — episode in my life is described in detail in my book, A Barrister’s Tales.
For your amusement — and possible comparison with today’s events — here is an excerpt from the chapter that describes my experience:
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Chapter 6 — A Spectator’s Peril
Incline your ear to me, rescue me quickly. — Psalm 31:2
After my experience with Jane Fonda several months earlier — [Detailed in Chapter 5] — I did approach the area of the sit-in with what I considered much greater caution. From a safe distance across a vast grass quad, I could see several hundred students milling around the administration building. So far, so good.
Even at this distance, I could hear the official-sounding voice of a policeman on a blow horn informing the protesters of the obvious—that what they were doing was unlawful and that they needed to leave immediately. Presumably, they were all to just go home and do something like—I don’t know, watch T.V. or read a book?
Of course, telling protesters to leave is like telling a bunch of alcoholics to go home when the bartender has just announced that all drinks that day are on the house. The police pronouncements only served to make official the excitement these students were already feeling about being exactly where they were and doing precisely what they were doing. They weren’t about to leave.
Then again, neither were the police. And, therein lies the rub.
Such was the recipe for what promised to be an interesting afternoon of action and adventure for all concerned—like me—regardless of which side of the argument you happened to fall. In response to my curiosity, I couldn’t resist moving forward through an alleyway several buildings from the sit-in. This opened onto a winding street that fronted the entire eastern perimeter of the campus, which I knew would offer a better view of the police response to the current upheaval at the administration building.
What I saw when I emerged from between two buildings shocked me. As far as I could see from one end of the street to the other, dozens, if not hundreds, of helmeted police in riot gear stood shoulder-to-shoulder in lines two and three deep. Their face shields were in the down position, and their billy clubs were held out at the ready. Behind them, a whole host of paddy wagons—i.e., police vans—were lined up with engines revving.
In short, a lot of cops. And they meant business. It was obvious these guys were not going to be fooling around once they were given their marching orders.
Even so, I can remember to this day thinking that somehow I was okay because I wasn’t actually involved in the protest. In other words, I can remember exactly how stupid and naïve I was to even be thinking like that.
Then I heard the officer in command shout out into his own megaphone what sounded like the start of a countdown. “Anybody who has not dispersed in five minutes will be subject to immediate arrest!”
That’s when I made the decision to return to my initial “safe space” and regain the distance from which I’d started my surveillance. As I scurried back between the buildings and re-merged onto the vast expanse of the quad area, I could hear the officer’s countdown continue.
“Anybody who has not dispersed in four minutes!”
“In three minutes!”
“Two!”
By the time the bullhorn announced one minute, I considered that I’d applied more than an abundance of caution would dictate for me to comply with the order to disperse. Of course full compliance would have involved just going home to the dorm. But that was beyond the limits of what my youthful curiosity would permit.
Not wanting to miss out on this “moment in history," I compromised by electing to get off the lawn area of the huge quad and enter a nearby building in which I often had classes. Interestingly, if not ironically, this was the building used mostly by students interested in social studies, which is exactly what I thought I was there to do that day. The building was a safe distance from the administration building but conveniently had windows in each lecture hall that would allow me to see the probable path of retreat most protesters would have to take if those columns of police officers in combat gear actually started heading west across campus with their billy clubs.
Which they did precisely sixty seconds after the officer with the blow horn had given his final countdown of one minute.
To say this police march for all practical purposes ended the students’ sit-in experience for the day would be an extraordinary understatement….
[Editor’s Note: While I was doing my best to lay low and not be seen looking over the sill of the second floor window … I couldn’t look away from the heads of protesters getting clubbed and scores of arrests being made below me … But, that’s where the scary part only started … ]
Weekend Food for Thought …
In the spirit of “It’s not over, til it’s over,” we happily present the following video:
Weekend Quote for this Fine Friday …
Weekend Messages for Wokers — i.e. “Regressives”— to Ponder …
Weekend Meme …
Have YOU Forgotten to Remember the J6rs This Week?!
One thing is for sure … They haven’t forgotten YOU!
This video will appear at the bottom of The American Landscape until all the J6 prisoners are exonerated and released from custody.
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