America’s Presidential Election:
A Choice Between Liar Or Fool

 By Jim Berlin

You can tell some people are lying because their lips are in motion. You can tell Hillary Clinton is lying even before her lips move, because we know she is forming the lie in her head.

Since lying is part of her DNA – the very fabric of her being – it must also affect her personal life. For example, if she feels an urgent need to urinate but a restroom trip is inconvenient, she must tell herself: “I have no need to pee.”

If she then wets herself she is required to perpetuate the lie: “No, I did not pee my pants. Either I am unknowingly pregnant and my water just broke, or, because of the high humidity a part of me that rarely sweats is sweating profusely.”

As an equal opportunity critic, however, I must point out that Donald Trump’s DNA is also gravely flawed. He is – let me be gentle – a narcissistic fool.

Narcissistic is self-explanatory. When Donald gazes into a mirror he sees a handsome Greek deity smiling back at him and giving a thumbs-up. But by fool, I do not mean he is stupid. His IQ is no better or worse than average.

Donald is a fool because he has no mastery over the most precious of all human gifts – his mind. Whatever bizarre concept pops

into his head, he is immediately compelled to verbalize it. He gives no thought to its layered meanings or consequences. What enters his head must exit his mouth.

So…in this election we have two choices: A liar or a fool.

I still lean toward the fool, in the desperate hope that he might be surrounded by wise people who could keep him in check.

Surrounding a liar with truthful people is a less likely scenario. Liars are more comfortable with fellow liars at their elbows.

Liar or fool. What a frightening quandary for the American voter.

 

Lord, Save Us From Global
Warming! Oh…Never Mind.

 By Jim Berlin

There’s no better salesman to our brain than the senses, so when we’re locked in the suffocating embrace of July’s deepest heat it’s easy to believe in global warming.

Global warming? Oh, hell yes. I can feel it, baby.

But then we remember last winter – the coldest on record in many parts of America. In fact, winters across the U.S. have been getting colder for the last 20 years.

Global cooling. Oh, hell yes. I can feel it, baby.

You can do anything with statistics except eat them, and some politicians could probably do that.

So is global warming fact or fiction? And if it is a fact, are we humans as culpable as liberal activists claim?

Here’s the truth: Just as nature abhors a vacuum, it also abhors a status quo. Everything changes – constantly – and Earth’s climate is included.

Worldwide warming and cooling are helpless passengers on The Great Pendulum of inevitable transition. Sixteen million years ago Antarctica was green with plant life.

In a few million years it will be green again.

Sure…we should clean up our air and environment whenever and wherever we can. But ice ages and their polar opposites will continue as long as the planet exists.

Welcome to the world, pilgrim.

 

The Next Fourth of July
Will Be Better Than This One


 By Jim Berlin 

There was both good news and bad news on the Fourth of July.

The bad: As we proudly celebrated the 240th birthday of this great nation, we found ourselves presided over by Barack Obama, the first and only president in our long history who actually dislikes the country he leads. The good: Come Independence Day 2017, someone not named Barack Obama will be living in the White House.

One of the classically-ironic phrases used by B.O. when promoting his twisted perception of America is, “That’s not who we are.” Barack, you have no idea who we are. But we are surely not who you are.

Neither Donald Trump or Hillary Clinton inspire comfort and joy, but they clearly understand the U.S.A has no peer among the nations of the world. They like America. They know we are exceptional. And, if nothing else, that alone will be a great and glorious leap forward from the dark days of the Obama presidency.

Mr. Obama, nearing the end of his reign, is most concerned now with the legacy he will leave behind. Have no fear, Mr. President, in less than eight years you have forged one helluva legacy…

–You have deliberately worsened race relations between Blacks and Whites, actually widening a divide that had been steadily closing with every passing year.

–By refusing to properly acknowledge and resolutely attack radical Islamic terrorists, Americans are actually nervous now whenever they find themselves in crowded venues.

–Countries that once respected and even feared the potential of our wrath when they did us wrong, now consider us a paper tiger.

I could go on and on, but this is a blog not a book.

The really good news – the greatest of news —  is that America is stronger than the occasional Barack Obama. We will continue to survive and thrive through the worst of leaders and the worst of times.

Happy Fourth of July…for many years to come.

 

 

Muhammad Ali and the Day
He Tried to Pick Up My Wife

 By Jim Berlin 

The 1970s, I’m walking my wife and young daughter through the Phoenix airport to their gate, putting them on a flight to Detroit. And suddenly there he is – the most famous athlete on the planet…Muhammad Ali!

He is strolling past in the center of a protective cocoon of five bad-ass bodyguards, but my wife is undeterred. She trots toward him calling out his name.

The cocoon turns and tightens, raising hands to stop her, but Muhammad signals to let her pass. He takes her hand in both of his as she babbles her admiration. How his heroics in and out of the ring had awakened in her an interest in boxing she never knew existed.

Relevant or not, I note here that my wife was twenty-something at the time, and so hot that men reported second-degree burns just passing her on a sidewalk. But Ali was gracious and grinning and that seemed the end of it.

 But then they wound up on the same flight.

 And before the 747 took off Muhammad left first class and walked back into coach. He made eye contact with my wife but she looked away: “I wanted him to know I wasn’t interested in anything more.” 

Apparently Ali was. A minute later one of his bodyguards approached her and said, “Muhammad would like to invite you to join him in first class.”

“You can tell him,” she growled, “that my

husband is not only better looking than him, but he could kick Ali’s ass from one end of the parking lot to the other!”

Well, that’s not exactly what she said. She simply and politely declined the invitation.

I come with this true story not to bury Muhammad, but to praise him. He was more than the best boxer in history, a humanitarian and a being with the courage of his convictions. Even when Parkinson’s turned the butterfly back into a caterpillar, he crawled again and again onto the world stage, refusing to exit the public eye. He let the world see him at his best and worst.

And equally important: He was one damn fine judge of women.

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