Hillary Clinton Groped Me
…My Nightmare in the Sky

By Jim Berlin

Nothing is more painful for a man than to admit he was the victim of female sexual assault, but I can remain silent no longer: In 1980 on an airliner somewhere over Arkansas, I was forcibly groped by the current Democratic nominee for president.

Traveling in my police uniform on official business, I’d been bumped to first class in Atlanta by a kindly desk agent who said her son was also a cop. An hour later we briefly stopped in Little Rock, Arkansas, and a woman in her early 30s took the empty seat next to mine.

I quickly introduced myself, but she hesitated before replying: “I’m, ahh, Pillory,” she said. “Pillory Minton.” The nightmare had begun…

I fell asleep immediately after takeoff – only to be jolted awake sometime later by a violent tugging on my…well, that private and sacred organ beneath my belt buckle. I think you know what I mean.

Pillory, wild-eyed and sweating, had covered us with a blanket and was muttering “Hot-diggety-dog, hot-diggety-dog!” as she went vigorously about her sordid business.

“What the hell are you doing?” I managed. “Shut up, big boy!” she hissed. “I love a man in uniform and I just can’t help myself!”

Bewildered, confused, I refastened my zipper, flung the blanket aside and stumbled from first class in search of a flight attendant.

“You don’t look well, sir. Are you all right?”


“That woman next to me, Pillory Minton, she just…”

“Oh, you mean Hillary Clinton, the First Lady of Arkansas. She’s the governor’s wife.”

Oh, what to do, what to do? Who were they going to believe – an ordinary cop or the First Lady of Arkansas? Trembling, traumatized, I took a seat in coach for the rest of the flight.

When we deplaned in Miami, Hillary Clinton caught my eye, put a finger to her lips, then passed the finger over her throat in a cutting motion.

Believe me: I got the message.

Bieber Visit With Anne Frank
Makes Belieber Out of Me

By Jim Berlin

Teenagers typically think they know it all because their “all” is a tiny house sparsely furnished: a little space of self-absorption crammed floor to ceiling with renegade hormones, endless peer pressure, high school studies and a hectic social calendar that begins and end with the weekend.

That’s about it; it’s all they know and they know it all.

The passage of time eventually evicts them from their tiny houses, shoves their horizons outward – college, work – and they learn the world is large and the things they don’t know almost endless.

But Justin Bieber is still a teenager, and there he was visiting the Amsterdam home of another teen, Anne Frank. After touring the place where the doomed Jewish girl wrote the diary heard ‘round the world, Justin inscribed this message in the museum’s guest book:

“Truly inspiring to be able to come here. Anne was a great girl. Hopefully she would have been a Belieber (one of his fans).”

Critics say the note’s flippancy suggests a couple of unflattering things about Justin: (1) He may not quite have a grasp of that Holocaust thing, and (2) his visit to the museum was all about him.

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I see it differently. Tens of thousands of Justin’s fans have now, for the first time, heard about another teenager who lived not so long ago in a world outrageously different than their own. A teen who never got to leave her teenage years. Perhaps it will inspire some of them to peek out the windows of their tiny houses and get a glimpse of a world their school teachers have largely ignored.

They may see things like World War II, and men called Hitler and Emperor Hirohito, and stories of what their great grandfathers did to give them the life we enjoy today. Maybe they’ll even pick up a copy of Anne’s book, The Diary of a Young Girl.

Good job, Justin. I beliebe you did just fine.

Jesus Forgives Jane Fonda:
Can I Do Anything Less?

By Jim Berlin

Reacting to a veteran’s Facebook call for a boycott of the movie “The Butler” – in which Jane Fonda portrays Nancy Reagan – the actress advised those who still hold a grudge against her to “get a life.”

Fonda remains proud of her anti-Vietnam War activities, but has apologized several times over for the infamous 1972 photo of her sitting behind an enemy anti-aircraft gun in Hanoi. She explained she was exhausted at the time and was cleverly manipulated by her hosts.

She was exhausted because she had spent the previous two weeks in North Vietnam on a propaganda tour, which included 10 radio broadcasts slamming America and the U.S. military.

She was well-rested a year later, however, when she denied claims from returning American POWs that they had been routinely tortured while in captivity. It didn’t happen, she said: They were “hypocrites and liars…military careerists and professional killers.”

The anti-aircraft gun photo – which is all Jane has ever apologized for – was only the icing on the devil’s food cake.

But there is this dilemma: Jane Fonda became a

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born-again Christian in 1998, which has thrown many of her detractors into a moral dither. Jesus forgives his followers all of their sins, so how can her fellow Christians – myself included — do anything less?

I have never watched any film in which Jane Fonda appears and never will. But when we meet one day in paradise, I vow not to call her what rhymes with rich. I shall march right up to her, throw my arms open wide, and say in all sincerity:

“Welcome to heaven, you b-b-b-b…beautiful soul.

It’s Time to End Love Affair
Between Obama and the Media

By Jim Berlin

The election of Barack Obama was at once a grand and foolish experiment. Prior to becoming a U.S. senator just eight years ago, he was a $50,000-a-year state senator and a law school instructor (not a professor).

Before that – a “community organizer.” No one outside of Chicago knows what that is. No one anywhere knows if he was any good at it.

His past was devoid of personal illumination: There seemed to be no lifelong friends. No one spoke of having worked or hung out with him.

And then he made that keynote speech at the 2004 Democratic Convention. Great speech, great grin, great charisma. They were the only credentials the media required.

He had them at hello. They were hopelessly in love…

It was and continues to be the greatest failure in the history of American journalism. No vetting, no investigative reporting, no probing his past.

All the media knew was they wanted him

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to be President. They still do.

The saying goes if you fool me once it’s your fault. This time around it’s all on us.

If Barack Obama wins again, it will be proof that the dumbing down of America is complete.