Encouraged by President Obama’s tepid response to Russia’s takeover of Crimea, Hispanics in California are pushing for a statewide referendum in November on whether to secede from the U.S. and revert to Mexican ownership.
Operating under the slogan “It’s Fun To Be A Mexican,” the movement is being financed by Jose Rodriguez, millionaire owner of 10 Taco Bells and lead trumpeter of “The Sons of Pancho Villa,” a popular L.A. mariachi band.
“We have the brown hammer now,” Rodriguez said. “There are finally more Hispanics than gringos in California, and we long to lay our heads once again on the warm bosom of Mother Mexico. Viva Mexico! Viva Our Lady of Guadalupe!”
“I don’t have a problem with it,” President Obama told reporters. “California and other states were part of Mexico until the War of 1848, and frankly, that war kind of stunk. If the voters decide it’s time to correct this injustice, well, that’s how democracy works.”
Even without California, the president said,
“America has more land than it really needs. I mean, c’mon, 50 states, 49 states – what difference does it make?”
Mr. Obama cautioned, however, that he would not allow Mexican expansion beyond California’s borders.
“They can have Sacramento,” he said, “but I’ll be damned if they’ll get Las Vegas.”
The one theory yet to surface over the disappearance of Malaysia Flight 370 is that the plane was sucked into the cavernous belly of a UFO and carried off to a quiet corner of the solar system.
There, wherever that is, the 239 humans on board are being prodded, probed and otherwise subjected to the same indignities as hapless frogs in a high school biology class.
Despite the inherent tragedy of the event, newspapers, network and cable news organizations are secretly thrilled with the story. While there is always a reliable audience for their usual journalistic fare – politics, foreign relations, salacious murder trials – many Americans have no curiosity beyond what’s for breakfast and the prospects for their next orgasm.
Not so with a commercial airliner falling off the face of the Earth. Even those poor buggers whose world view is limited to what they can smell, touch and eat – love a good mystery.
Viewer ratings, thanks to the missing plane, continue to soar.
Mindful of this, the news hounds have milked the story until the teats have screamed for mercy. And still, mystery lovers scream for more, more, more.
In the end, no matter what really happened, Flight 370 is about 239 fellow humans – mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters – who loved and were loved in return.
The Ukrainian army and police have yet to raise a finger or fire a single shot in defense of their country against the Russian invaders, and I may know the reason why.
Flashback to the Serb Republic, Bosnia, a Monday morning in ’98. I awake to frantic pounding on the farmhouse door and there stands Sergei, my 23-year-old Ukrainian patrol partner. His eyes are red, uniform disheveled, a weekend’s growth of beard. He is frantic.
“Do you have wodka?” He asks.
“Wodka, damn it! I’m out of wodka.”
“No, I don’t drink vodka.”
“They sell wodka at the Czech fort,” Sergei says. “I have a map. You drive, okay?”
I patiently explain to Sergei that the Czech fort is 70 kilometers away, most of it over bad road, some of it through unfriendly neighborhoods.
“I’m out of wodka,” he says. The discussion is over.
Two hours later I find the front gate of the Czech compound and pull to the side as several armored vehicles leave the fort. Sergei rushes into the soldiers’ PX and returns minutes later with three liters of vodka. He is cracking one of the bottles as he walks.
I start the UN truck, but Sergei has second thoughts and tells me to wait. He races back into the fort and returns with two more liters of his life’s blood. He is all smiles…
The White House claim that President Obama had a 90-minute phone conversation with Vladimir Putin over Russia’s invasion of Ukrainian territory strains credibility. Only two women with time on their hands could talk for 90 minutes.
Putin, especially, has never been known to string more than two sentences together before stripping off his shirt and riding away on a horse. Obama is more long-winded, but often becomes tongue-tied in the presence of people who do not adore him.
There was no 90-minute phone conversation. There was a 20-second exchange that reportedly went something like this:
Obama: “I want you to know, Vlad, I consider your takeover of Crimea as a serious threat to peace in eastern Europe and a grave violation of Ukrainian sovereignty.”
Obama: “Well, all right, then! I have also convened a committee of really smart people in suits to study the problem very, very, very closely.”
Putin (cupping the phone and shouting): “Is he saddled yet?”
Obama: “I’m also sending Secretary Kerry to Kiev, and he, too, is gravely concerned and will be watching the situation very closely.”
Putin: “Pretty Boy is coming to Ukraine?”
Obama: “Yes, Vlad, and he is bringing his hair and his distinguished statesman’s voice and he will be saying really important stuff about how naughty you are.”