8. Are You a Threat to Liberty? Take the Blumert Test and Other Impertinent Essays

ARE YOUA THREATTO LIBERTY?
TAKETHE BLUMERT TESTAND
OTHER IMPERTENENT ESSAYS

IN DEFENSE OF Y2K EXTREMISTS

She said in her soft sunbelt drawl, “I want to talk to the owner of Camino Coin.” “This is Burt Blumert. How may I help?”

“Gary North made me buy gold coins from you people. He said that if I didn’t I would be in big trouble due to Y2K. It happened under false pretenses.”

On the defensive, I responded, “Well, I suppose many of us were caught-up with the Y2K scare, but you should feel relieved that our worst fears weren’t realized.”

“I want my money back,” she said. “I never opened the box the gold came in.”

The computer screen revealed her purchase in July 1999. “Mrs. Bartlett, you bought 61 one-ounce and 100 tenth-ounce gold eagles. You paid $277 each for the big ones and $31.50 each for the small ones. Today I can repurchase the one-ouncers for $286 and the tenth-ouncers for $29.50. If you sell today, you’ll be ahead about $450.”

That information didn’t give her as much satisfaction as it did me and she asked, “What about the silly wind-up radio and flashlight that I got as a bonus?”

“Aren’t those remarkable,” I added hopefully. “And they are so well made, from South Africa, you know. I use the radio every morning. Sometimes it’s the only exercise I get.”

Without as much as a chuckle, she charged, “My pastor says that Gary North is a false prophet and should be punished.”

“You know, Mrs. Bartlett, Gary North wasn’t alone in alarming the public about Y2K. There were dozens of Congressional hearings about the horrors of Y2K and people like US Senators Bennett and Dodd caused me sleepless nights watching C-SPAN tapes.”

By this time I sensed Mrs. Bartlett was in her own zone, and she said, “My son ridiculed me for buying the gold. I actually bought it for him. He called this morning sarcastically asking if the electric power was on. I was so embarrased.”

As one long identified with losing causes, I commiserated. “It wasn’t only the right-wingers who issued emergency instructions about Y2K. The American Red Cross, FEMA, and most power companies urged hunkering down with dried food, candles, and bottled water.”

I didn’t seem to be making much progress and she in an accusatory voice said: “Well, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. Imagine profiting on such a phony thing as Y2K.”

In my best Jack Webb-John Wayne impersonation, I responded, “Ma’am, I’m just a humble old gold dealer who tries to treat the customer fairly whether their fears are real or imagined. We sell insurance, and as with most insurance policies, you’re better off if there’s no pay-out.

“Mrs. Bartlett, if you’re looking for the real profiteers, seek out those computer programmers who created the problem and later reaped the harvest by solving the mischief they gave birth to.”

The tide was turning and she stammered, “Well, Gary North and his ilk ought to apologize for what they’ve done.”

I was now on the offensive. “Gary North and the other Y2K extremists were pikers. Most of their ‘victims’ were older folks intimidated by revolutionary technology they did not understand. That it contained the seeds of its own destruction seemed appropriate. Where are the critics of corporate America who spent billions on a nonproblem? And what about our lovable government? Where is its apology for all the taxpayer dollars it wasted on an imaginary project?”

A computer friend tells me that the Y2K scare gave corporate America an opportunity to repair the minor problem caused by the two-digit date, but also enabled them to upgrade hardware and revitalize software, in short tooling-up for the revolution in progress. In a way, “the right-wing Y2K extremists” accomplished the same for middle America.

The Y2K scare motivated people to improve their emergency preparedness. If it abetted people’s suspicion of basic institutions like banks, insurance companies, and government itself, what’s wrong with that?

My customer decided not to sell her gold coins and I direct the following postscript to her and others like her:

Most of the Y2K extremists were genuine in their concerns. The establishment, as usual, has taken this opportunity to savagely attack them. But remember, the media have no affection nor sympathy for you. To them you are aliens who live in “flyover country.” So don’t be embarrassed. The elites, in the end, were far more gullible than you.

January 8, 2000

POOR BURT—HE’SIN THE MARKETFOR A HOME HAIRCUT KIT

Many American males were brought up listening intently to their barber’s opinions on any and every subject. life the barber holds more sway than a barkeep. When encountering the former, there is sobriety, no solid wood bar counter providing a buffer zone, and the constant reminder that the sharp steel instrument in his hand could terminate life.

Conversation overheard at Antonino’s Coiffiere, formerly Tony’s Barbershop.

Customer (Burt): “Hello, Tony, ‘the usual,’ but not too short on the sides.”

Tony: “The name is Antonino, and we don’t do ‘the usual’ anymore. You’re scheduled for a protein wash and a fashion cut followed by a blow-dry. Then a pedicure, and if Madame Arlene is available, she will reveal your future with the Tarot cards.”

Burt: “Has Madame Arlene predicted that I may be out of here? All I wanted was a haircut, not a weekend at Elizabeth Arden’s spa. Tony, sorry, Antonino, remember the old days—for auld lang syne—just a haircut one last time.”

Antonino (brushing away a tear): “I must admit your plea is very touching. Ok, this one time only, just a haircut, but you mustn’t tell anybody, and I trust you have shampooed within recent memory.”

Burt: “I bathe once a week whether I need it or not, and it would be nice if we could skip the ‘Antonino’.”

Tony: “All right, but you still must pass the Politically Correct screening quiz we instituted when we became a Coiffiere. Please answer the three questions on the white card my son handed you when he took your jacket.”

Burt: “I can’t believe I’m a willing participant to this, and you might suggest to your son that he shouldn’t be eating a pizza slice and handling the customer’s garment at the same time, but here are my answers to your dumb questions:

“1. The death penalty for wearing Confederate Flag under shorts must be reversed unless what’s at issue is the defendant’s poor taste or lack of color coordination.

“2. Although I have affection and sympathy for those vigilantes who overpowered the defense force and occupied California’s power utilities, they must abide by the Geneva Convention when dealing with the PG&E employees they took prisoner.

“3. Yes, I am still of the ‘Jewish persuasion’ as you put it. It was just a week ago Thursday that we were at my nephew’s Bar Mitzvah and you made a fool of yourself over-indulging and telling the young women that you were a retired Israeli fighter pilot. And, there was nothing funny about using your yarmulke to wrap the piece of honey-cake you were taking home. Do you suppose I can get my haircut now?”

Tony (scissors flashing): “You guys haven’t been laughing very much since George W. Bush selected his cabinet without appointing one Jew. Your commitment to losing causes is so well-known, Blumert, it occurred to me this ‘insult’ might have put you in search of some other religious ‘preference’.”

Burt (ever mindful of flashing scissors): “Although I should know better, I am puzzled by Jewish folks who express outrage, some directly, others in an oblique manner suggesting that Jews shouldn’t need such recognition given their success in many areas. In either instance, they don’t like George Dubya. In fact, they hate him.

“There are no Armenian-Americans in the Cabinet. No Italian-Americans and so on. If every American ethnic sub-division were represented, the Cabinet would number 834 people.

“Do you want a foolproof way of measuring George Dubya’s presidency? When Left/Liberal media stars, often Jewish, begin to recognize his merit (see George Dubya’s education proposals and the Left’s enthusiastic response), it’s time to give up any hope that Dubya would give more than lip-service to true conservatism. Sounds to me like another lost cause. Remember, I am the expert in that area.”

Tony: “Blumert, you’re a downer.”

Burt: “Haircut is great, Tony, and I’ll see you in the usual 7 weeks.”

Antonino:” Sorry, as I told you before, we won’t be doing the ‘usual’ anymore.”

Burt: “Well, Antonino, if I ever decide on lipo-suction, I’ll call for an appointment.”

January 30, 2000

CALIFORNIA’S FOUR SEASONS: FIRE, FLOOD, DROUGHT, AND EARTHQUAKE

Those folks who regard snow and ice as a dire threat to life and limb and flee to tropical, southern Florida never lose the imprint of the seasons. They are simply on a prolonged holiday. Well, more like a permanent sabbatical.

In case you hadn’t noticed, Californians view the world through a cockeyed lens. We don’t deny the traditional four seasons; we simply substitute our own version.

To most Americans, November 1st is a reminder that brittle cold nights and frigid winds are just around the corner. The first snow flurries never fail to bring a smile, and they reaffirm the seasonal nature of life.

This year in California, November blew in with blistering heat and fire-breeding winds, confirming that we do have seasons like every place else. The problem is that California’s four seasons do not come with ordered sequence. Flood, Drought, Fire, and Earthquake seem to be scripted by Hollywood.

I will never forget that wondrous day when the offices of the San Mateo County Drought Commission were almost swept out to sea by a flash flood resulting from two inches of rain that fell in less than an hour.

Drought and flood are never out of mind in California. Both political parties are held captive by the giant farming interests and the cost and availability of water is a constant, even if under-publicized political issue.

California’s citizens are under official directive to either be ready for the next flood, or not to flush too often. We are required to attend prayer meetings imploring the Creator to grace the farmer with good weather and good markets. (I have yet to hear any farmer show the slightest concern for gold dealers, or the gold market.)

Most of California’s thirty-five million live in the counties near San Francisco and Los Angeles. The closest these folks get to agri-business is a visit to the Farmer’s Market. I forgot to mention that of the estimated thirty-five million in the state, nine million are immigrants. (The breakdown of those who are “documented vs. undocumented” seems to be unknown. What is known is that the word “illegal,” as applied to immigrants, will probably soon be illegal.)

Look, people who live south of the border come to California for wages. They recognize the opportunities. Start as a dishwasher and in six months you’ll own a car. If you close your ears to lawyers about “rights,” you’ll be opening your own restaurant in just a few years.

The bad joke about Mexico’s lousy Olympic team says it all; Any Mexican who could vault over seven feet, swim swiftly, or “out run a speeding bullet,” had already crossed the border into the US.

The great appeal of California for American immigrants is the weather. There is nothing more democratic than a temperate climate. I’ve told this before, but Murray Rothbard had difficulty identifying the street “crazies” in California. In New York City, the marginal folks wore things like WWII battle gear with vinyl table coverings as overcoats.

In California EVERYBODY wears short-sleeved shirts. It takes a few moments of conversation to determine that rendezvousing on Mt. Wilson with a spacecraft leaving for another galaxy holds little appeal. Anyway, you quickly decide that you have enough friends.

But, Californians are just like other Americans. They know that November means the holidays will soon be upon us. The experts say that California is overdue for a 7 + quake. If we get one of those in the next sixty days, I may not get the opportunity to wish all of you out there in LRC land a wonderful and joyous Christmas and good health for the New Year.

Well, it looks like I just did.

November 4, 2003

SERIAL KILLERSOF AMERICA, UNITE

A LETTERTO THE EDITOR

COPIED TO BURT BLUMERT

Dear Editor:

Our membership has deep contempt for police at every level of government, particularly those who investigate homicides. This group of bozos are at the bottom-of-the-barrel, the least intelligent, most corrupt and laziest law enforcement agents of all.

Actually, our 4,100 dues paying members survive and flourish because of police ineptitude. Amused, we watch the clumsy manner in which most murder case investigations are handled. Even more ludicrous are the transparent efforts to cover-up shoddy work.

For too long, we have lived with the “Dr. Richard Kimble” defense murder strategy. Predictably, the police and defense lawyers, in lockstep, have picked up this absurd premise. It matters not how the murder was accomplished, or who the victim was. Every murderer shouts:

“It was a one-armed man who did it.”

Those unfortunate souls who have lost an arm to disease, have had it severed in an accident (shark bite), or war; even those cheated of an arm by nature, found themselves in constant danger.

It wasn’t only people who looked like David Janssen, and years later, Harrison Ford, who were beating them up and dragging them into police stations. The fact that they could only “half” fight back made the one-armed fellow an easy victim.

It wasn’t until the failure of a TV remake of The Fugitive that the “Richard Kimble” defense fell out of favor.

Without the “one-armed man” defense, the police continued to stumble along as usual, doggedly pursuing the wrong people and letting obvious murderers go free.

We at the National Association of Serial Killers are accustomed to this inefficiency, but some current developments greatly trouble our membership.

In a recent case in Massachusetts, a well-known allergist, as guilty as he was splattered by his murdered wife’s blood, showcased the new defense:

“A serial killer did it.”

The Washington, DC police blundering along in the Chandra Levy missing intern case are all set to pick up the mantra:

“It was a serial killer who did it.”

In a cabal, which includes murderers, their lawyers, and the police, we detect a dangerous trend. Every murderer will soon be pointing to the hapless serial killer.

We are outraged by this new development.

Our members, the authentic serial killers, resent being identified with these run-of-the-mill murder cases.

The true serial killer should not be confused with amateurs.

•The serial killer is meticulous and rarely gets caught.

•Serial killers almost never murder friends or family.

•Serial killers often plant clues to help the inept police (to make the chase more exciting).

•Unlike their mundane, passion-driven counterparts, the serial killer is generally erudite and literate.

Mr. Editor, we implore you, please don’t get caught up with this new tactic on the part of the police establishment to cover-up their own inadequacies by blaming members of our association.

Stop scapegoating. Stop maligning us. Don’t sully the great history of serial killers.

The Association of One-Armed Americans join in this protest.

Sincerely yours,

Hannibal “the Ripper” Bundy

(Be advised, this is not my real name)

Executive Director

The National Association of Serial Killers

July 14, 2001

DON’T SEND ME TO DIXIE IF I CAN’T GET EGG ROLLS

Make sure your hotel room is on a lower floor and remember to carry a rope ladder in your suitcase. The Cape Fear Hotel in Wilmington, North Carolina, serves a terrific pot roast special on Wednesdays—but don’t waste your time looking for egg rolls because you won’t find many Chinese restaurants.

—Advice from the district manager to his replacement

No egg rolls?

How could any human being survive without Chinese food at least twice a month?

It was the 1950s and this New York City boy was in culture shock. I was the replacement. The territory covered twenty-seven smallish to medium-sized cities in the “Old South.”* God was surely testing me.

Like most Yankees, my knowledge of the South was based on bad Hollywood movies. In the Air Force, I encountered dozens of Southern lads who were the backbone of the enlisted corps, but, frankly, they were rural redneck types and only reinforced my bias.

By contrast, friends who served in the US Army met unwilling draftees—not volunteers—and discovered a cross-section of literate, young Southern men who had grace and breeding.

Remember, this was the Old South, post-WWII. The Holiday Inn and other national motel chains were only beginning to compete with the downtown hotels. McDonald’s and Burger King were in the future and Won Ton soup was a treat experienced only by world travelers (folks who had been to Atlanta or New Orleans qualified).

Once culture shock was over and I established a routine, my attitude about the South changed—these folks were special. Never before, nor since have I experienced such cordiality, but I became uncomfortable accepting invitations to dine at people’s homes and finding good restaurant food remained an elusive and difficult exercise.

After a few repeat visits to one of my cities, I might discover a culinary treasure. In “dry” counties, it was often the bootlegger who would point me to a family-operated restaurant where the ingredients were fresh and the slant was decidedly Southern.

My favorite was a nameless restaurant on the outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky. It was located in a faded building that had once been a fine residence. The black chef introduced me to fare I had never experienced. Spectacular barbecue: succulent cuts of beef, pork, and chicken covered by mysterious piquant sauces, complemented by superb fried okra, leading to addictions I carry to this day.

But in most instances the weary traveler dined upon overcooked food in the hotel’s dining room. And let me remind you: there were few Chinese restaurants.

During my six years in the Old South, it all began to change. Downtown was becoming shabby. Regional shopping centers were sprouting in the suburbs and as auto sales boomed, motels were attracting Americans as they sped along the new interstate highway systems. Even the seasoned business travelers—downtown hotel regulars—were tempted to try one of the flashy new motels.

Many of my Southern friends were troubled by the changes taking place—thanks to the federal highway program, federal school planning, and other unconstitutional interventions into the states—and they could not know of the disruption that was ahead in the 1960s. I never gave much thought to any of it, but by the time I was about to leave the South, Chinese restaurants could be found both downtown and in the suburbs in all of my cities.

The Chinese restaurant has universal appeal. From Kabul, Afghanistan, to Mombassa, Kenya, from Odessa in the Ukraine to Odessa in Texas to Zurich, Switzerland, satisfied diners savor Bird’s Nest soup and become adept with chopsticks.

How is it that Chinese cuisine successfully cuts across all borders and cultures? The answer is simple: Most Chinese restaurants maintain an unusually high standard and the food is generally cooked when ordered, ensuring freshness. Aside from providing simply delicious food, there are other reasons why Chinese restaurants flourish the world over.

•They are almost always open for business. Local holidays do not mean closing down. They remain a haven for hungry patrons.

•Customers are almost never turned away for failing to book an advance reservation. Occasionally an upscale Manhattan or Beverly Hills location refuses a customer, but this is not typical. If the house is full, the enterprising owner/manager will set up a table in the kitchen, or squeeze one in the corridor near the restrooms.

•The Chinese restaurateur gives totally balanced service to all his customers. (The only exception is what appears to be a special menu of exotic dishes for his Chinese clients. The Caucasian observing these feasts from an adjoining table never knows for sure.)

•Chinese cuisine has zero tolerance for animal rights groups. The only qualification for what is prepared by the chef is that it fits in the wok and will taste good.

•Yet the Chinese chef demonstrates enormous tolerance when, for example, although perplexed by the vegetarian, he still manages to create magnificent dishes that satisfy even those idiosyncratic customers.

•In most places, Chinese food affords excellent value for the consumer’s dollar.

•And although it is not a prime consideration for the kitchen, Chinese food is nutritious and low in calories while delighting the taste buds with unique flavors.

•It remains a custom in many Chinese restaurants around the world that the patron examines the fish or fowl before it’s cooked thus, once again guaranteeing fresh fare.

•Almost every Chinese restaurant is family operated and this is particularly appealing to many consumers in this age of absentee and/or indifferent management.

Those years spent in the Old South had a significant influence on my value system and view of the world. I learned good manners, respect for tradition, and began to question, for the first time, the mythology presented as history in my government school education.

Oh, by the way, in case you’re puzzled by my predecessor’s admonition to make sure my hotel room was on a lower floor and to always travel with a rope ladder, he was referring to a custom handed down by travelling salesmen from an earlier time. The rope ladder allowed escape from a hotel engulfed in flames, but obviously could only be utilized from a lower floor. He was an old-fashioned fellow and for some unexplained reason, hated Chinese food.

April 16, 2001

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*I call it the Old South to diffentiate that great region from what my fellow Northern Californians mean by the South: Los Angeles.

WERE MONICA AND CHANDRA SPIES? ADVICE TO POLITICIANS—STICK TO SKINNY SHIKSAS

In a fascinating piece of analytical gossip, New York Post Page Six reporter Rod Dreher points out the “eerie similarities” between the Monica Lewinsky and Chandra Levy scandals.

Aside from the sexual intrigue with powerful Democratic politicians, Dreher’s July 5th column catalogued other amazing parallels:

•Both women were bosomy Jewish-American Princesses from California.

•Both have physician fathers whose specialty is oncology.

•Both were “interns” rubbing elbows with the rich and powerful.

•Even the DC lawyers we now see crawling out from under their rocks are the same ones we observed in l’Affair Lewinsky.

Sherman H. Skolnick, longtime controversial, investigative muckraker, in his July 8 Skolnick’s Reports, goes even further, adding a sinister twist to the mystery.

Skolnick is convinced that Monica was “a creature of renegade units of Israeli intelligence, the Mossad.” He goes on to suggest that Chandra Ann Levy may have been similarly involved, that is, that she was also “a creature of renegade units of the Mossad, but not authorized as such by the state of Israel government.”

He continues: “Like Monica, the reputed purpose of Chandra was to infiltrate. To use her womanly wiles to find out things.”

One of Monica’s missions, according to Skolnick, after she was tossed out of the White House by Hillary and mysteriously assigned to a high position at the Pentagon, was to mingle with important US military leaders and report back to a faction at Mossad headquarters their degree of loyalty to Clinton, a vital matter during and following the impeachment crisis.

Chandra, according to Skolnick, was in a perfect position to glean information from Congressman Condit regarding super-secret data on Tim McVeigh. Skolnick tells us that Condit, as a senior member of the House Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence, was privy to all the actual, complete details of the Oklahoma City bombing.

If one buys the Skolnick thesis, Chandra Levy may not have been a suicide or murder victim, but was spirited away to Israel.

In spite of some good judicial investigation he performed years ago in Illinois, Skolnick is regarded by many as “on the fringe.” Frankly, I find his views of Mossad involvement with the interns a bit wacky. But the mere notion of Chandra as an Israeli agent is so enticing that I would give $100 of Lew Rockwell’s money to have been there at her debriefing.

It probably went something like this:

Mossad Agent: Before we start, please tell me what kind of a name is Chandra? Nice Jewish-American girls have names like Tracy, Kimberly, or Tiffany. What’s with Chandra?

Chandra: For a time my father had a practice near Watts, but I don’t hear you complaining about the name Monica.

Mossad Agent: Never mind. You did nice work with the Congressman, but you seemed indifferent, and aside from your accounts of the sex, your reports were boring us to tears.

Chandra: Well, who wouldn’t be bored? I was in Modesto while Miss Chubby is the queen of society in Manhattan. She goes to Le Cirque for dinner and I get Bob’s Big Boy in Stockton for a burger.

Mossad Agent: Would you please forget about Monica.

Chandra: Sure, the slut gets to hear the “Three Tenors”: Pavarotti, Carreras, and Domingo in concert at Carnegie Hall, and I get to listen to the best recordings of Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, and Ferlin Husky at the American Legion Hall in downtown Modesto.

Mossad Agent: I’m getting fed up with this Monica business. Would you please . . .

Chandra: While the fat bitch was a judge at an elegant Women’s Wear Daily fashion show at the Plaza Hotel in New York City, I was on my knees measuring the performance of Stanislaus County’s best jumping frogs.

Chandra (now out of control): The slut jets in Air Force One to a Nato conference in Brussels, and I’m one of the Queen’s Maids sitting on the backseat of a 1976 Chevy convertible at the San Joaquin Valley Walnut Festival in 100-degree temperatures.

Mossad Agent: Enough already. Let’s get on to your next assignment. You will be serving coffee in the downtown Cairo Starbucks. It will be arranged to have Yasir Arafat as one of your customers. As you are pouring his double decaf latte, you will lean forward so he can see down your blouse.

Our intelligence advises that he will seize the moment and you’ll be whisked to the bridal suite at the Cairo Hilton in no time at all.

Chandra: Sure, and I suppose Miss Bloated America gets assigned to Hollywood to seduce Russell Crowe.

July 10, 2001

ARE YOU A THREAT TO LIBERTY?: TAKE THE BLUMERT TEST

Iremember reading somewhere that the average American male thinks about sex every thirty seconds.

During my first months in the US Air Force, back in Korean War days, the Jewish chaplain addressed our small group and advised that it wasn’t going to be easy. We would be reminded of our “Jewishness” almost every waking hour. He was right. It was occasionally negative, but mostly good-natured bantering, and every airman, regardless of background, got his share.

There were times when the mental sexual imagery whirred along like a continuous motion picture rather than a clip every thirty seconds, and “Jewishness” ebbed and flowed with time and location. Most often, it was the folks encountered that brought it to the fore.

WEISS, SOBRAN, AND ME

Frankly, I hadn’t been thinking about sex or Jewishness for quite a while until I read Philip Weiss’s “Jews in Bush’s Cabinet? Don’t Hold Your Breath” (New York Observer, 22 December 2001) and Joseph Sobran’s “An Anniversary”(Sobran’s, December 2001).

Mr. Weiss, the consummate New Yorker, has written frequently on the subject of Jews and their place in American society. In earlier pieces, he appropriately concluded that anti-Semitism in America is a ghost. But in this present article, he removes all inhibitions and proudly acknowledges that Jews have changed America.

In earlier times Weiss would have been dismayed at George W.’s failure to appoint any Jews to his cabinet. Not now. Weiss is so confident of Jewish potency, he says, “Remaking the American power structure without Jews is like remaking sports without blacks.”

Weiss details with pride Jewish influence in the civil rights movement, feminism, the media, popular culture, and law and finance. He tops off his sermonet by arguing that “the greatly diminished influence of the church on public mores wouldn’t have happened without secularized Jews gaining cultural power.”

Whew!

This is not a social agenda shared by most Americans, or by all Jews for that matter. Where are the dissenters?

Well, Weiss accomplished one thing; he got me focusing on my Jewishness full-time. What the heck. Since I am now part of America’s power structure, I decided to enjoy it and bully my way around.

Unfortunately, when I started swaggering at my home or office as a sort of Jewish superman, nobody was impressed. In fact, everybody listened less than usual, and I had to commiserate with poor Rodney Dangerfield, who laments that “he don’t get no respect.”

Joe Sobran is a dear friend and unique talent. LRC readers recognize him as one of America’s most brilliant essayists. In his “An Anniversary” piece, Joe wrestles with the issue that has bedeviled him. He states his respect for the ability and culture of Jews, but is convinced that they represent goals profoundly different from those of most Americans, since this is “still more or less a Christian country.”

All Joe asks is that any exchange on the subject be open. He insists, “I reserve the right to talk about [the differences between Jews and Christians] and take it into my calculations without being called a bigot.”

Joe can count on me to go to the barricades with him on this point, but he, like Weiss, has me focusing once again on my Jewishness.

THE LONE EAGLE

The anniversary of Joe’s title involves Charles A. Lindbergh. His extremely dangerous solo flight across the Atlantic earned him the mantle of America’s greatest hero. He was an icon, the leading anti-interventionist of his time, and the star spokesman for the America First Committee, the two million-member organization committed to keeping us out of WWII.

Interestingly, September 11th, 2001, marked the sixtieth anniversary of Lindbergh’s famous speech in Des Moines, Iowa. He implored Americans not to succumb to the influence of “the British, the Jewish, or the Roosevelt administration,” who were promoting our entry into WWII.

Lindbergh was vilified by the media and FDR for these remarks, and labeled an anti-Semite. The mythology of his anti-Semitism continues to reach beyond the grave. The smear against Lindbergh is an outrage: any objective evaluation of the man, his beliefs, and accomplishments shatters the lie. And as Joe notes, no one ever claims that these three groups were not pushing for war.

Joe, as usual, makes a rousing case, but in my view he becomes a bit one-dimensional in evaluating American Jews in today’s society.

Like Lindbergh, Joe Sobran has been constantly maligned and I recognize his frustration when he observes:

“Even Jews who neither believe nor practice their ancestral religion have been formed by it and are conscious of belonging to an ancient nation, compared with which the United States of America is a very recent (and probably temporary) upstart.”

Joe, that’s an overstatement and I think you are wrong. I detect a hint of something akin to Original Sin. Yes, there are plenty of Jewish bad guys who by their actions or worldview threaten our American heritage and way of life. And they are powerful.

But, there are also Jews, religious or not, who are passionate about what America stands for, Jews who weep at the erosion of American values and struggle to stem that erosion.

I’m sort of tired being judged by some folks on only one aspect of what I am. “Blumert’s a Jew.” Sorry, that single word standing alone is not a true indicator as to whether or not I am a threat to your liberty.

We need more data. Have no fear. I have devised a foolproof test.

THE TEST

What follows is a broad formula designed to reveal an individual’s “Potential for Evil” (PFE), and I offer it to society at no cost. Here’s my methodology: I use five basic components to measure an individual’s PFE.

1.Occupation. In almost every instance, what a person does for a living is the dominant factor in determining his PFE.

2.National origin. As always in history, this is vital in determining PFE.

3.Religion. It’s an even more passionate measure of PFE.

4.Affiliations. Those interests that a person has aside from his occupation and religion also reveals his PFE.

5.Geographic section of the US a person comes from.

Below I have assigned scientific value numbers reflecting the Potential for Evil. They range from 0 to 10. 0 is terrific, and 10 is bad news. Remember, the higher the number the greater the danger.

OCCUPATION

Politician 10

Media 10

Lawyer 09

Accountant 07

Lobbyist 07

Government Employee 06

Military (Officer) 06

Entertainment 06

Veteran 06

Retail 05

Finance 05

Non-Profit 05

Corporate 05

Academic 05

Sales 04

Physician 04

Dentist 04

Engineer 03

Travel 03

Blue Collar 03

Artist 03

Military (Enlisted) 02

Farmer 02

High Tech 02

Pilot 02

RELIGION

Jewish 10

Muslim 10

Mormon 06

Catholic 04

Hindu 04

Sects/Cults 04

Protestant 02

Davidian 01

GEOGRAPHIC

Mid-Atlantic 07

New England 06

Far West 04

Midwest Flyover 03

Dixie 02

NATIONAL ORIGIN

Africa 08

Mid-East 06

West Asia 06

American Indian 06

UK 06

Canada 06

East Asia 05

Latin 04

Eastern Europe/Russia 03

Southern Europe 03

Western Europe 02

AFFILIATIONS

Political Activist 10

Pro-War Organization Activist 10

Legal Activist (ACLU) 09

Environmentalist 08

Free Market/Freedom Organization Activist 02

Local Volunteer 02

Here are two hypothetical examples:

A Jewish (10) lawyer (8) whose ancestors came from Russia (3) and is a Sierra Club activist (8) reared in Boston (6). Score: 36. Watch out! This guy could be radioactive.

A Lutheran (02) with German roots (02), a software programmer (02) who contributes to the Mises Institute (02) reared in Mobile, Alabama (02). Score: 10. The sort of fellow who should be guiding a troop of Boy Scouts.

Our own Lew Rockwell is Catholic (04), with ancestors from the UK (06), reared in New England (06), employed by a nonprofit (05), and affiliated with the Mises Institute and the Center for Libertarian Studies (02). Score: 25

Even worse, I am Jewish (10), my ancestors come from Eastern Europe (03), I am in finance (05), my affiliations are the Mises Institute and CLS (02), but I was forged in New York City (07). Score: 27.

Clearly an appeal mechanism is necessary. If you—like Lew and me—believe your PFE is too high, that you have overcome your background, and that you are not a threat to liberty, request a waiver. You’ll have to answer a few telling questions, however.

For example:

Who is H.L. Mencken?

What constitutes a just war?

Are you a regular visitor to LRC?

Well, add up your own score and see how you rate

SCORES

25 or more: You may be the stuff tyrants are made of.

20–24: Don’t expect people to feel comfortable turning their backs to you.

15–19: People can be comfortable lending you their new car.

14 or less: You are a potential mate for the cherished child of an LRC reader.

December 29, 2001