In the latest chapter of “Helsinki Hath No Fury Like a President Scorned,” President Donald J. “Donnie Two Scoops” Trumpet has doubled-down on his Finnish performance and invited his BFF, Vladimir “Vladdie the Laddie, Rootin’ Tootin’” Putin to the White House.
Oh, sure, some 3-year-old Mexican kid gets locked up in a cage but hey, let team Putin waltz right in. Riddle me this: Who do you think is the bigger threat? …
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There’s much outrage on the left and even on the right about President Donald J. “Donnie Two Scoops” Trumpet’s meeting with Russian President Vladimir “Vladdie the Laddie, Rootin’, Tootin’” Putin in Helsinki Monday, in which he threw U.S. intelligence under the bus and sided with his BFF. But really at this point why is any of this surprising? What else was he going to say? …
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On Saturday, people took to the streets in more than 700 cities in every state to voice their opposition to separating children of undocumented immigrants indefinitely and perhaps forever from their parents. They carried signs and, in Atlanta, dog crates containing baby dolls to signify the cages in which the children have been held.
Saturday’s protest was the culmination of a week of civil disobedience that has drawn the usual backlash: Oh, these are just abortion-loving feminists protesting in support of illegal children they would never carry to term. Honestly…
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In Luke 7: 36-50, the writer paints a portrait of limitless love and the limits of the unloving. Jesus dines at the house of Simon the Pharisee, where a woman known to have led a sinful life washed his feet with her tears, dried them with her hair and anointed them with perfume, an expensive commodity. It was a profound display of contrition, humility and love, though the Pharisees saw it as an extravagant outrage, given her reputation.
After offering a parable, Jesus “turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? …
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President Donald J. Trumpet has rescinded the order separating children from their parents when they arrive at the southern border but, get this, some 2,300 kids who have already been separated from their parents have not been grandfathered in. Not only have they not been grandfathered in, but they have already been scattered to the four winds – to cities in Michigan, New York and Rhode Island – which came as a distressing surprise to the U.S. Conference of Mayors. Members of the conference hastily gathered in El Paso at the behest of that city’s mayor, Dee Margo, a Republican no less, who painted a very different picture of life at the border than President Donald J. Trump has – one of low crime and entwined Hispanic-American cultures.
So, what the hell is going on? You’ve got mayors – for the most part, men – who are so distressed about children who have just disappeared into their cities that the distress is palpable. You’ve got parents who are so distraught that one even killed himself. Most of all, you’ve got kids who are being traumatized …
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So, what are we now – Myanmar?
One of my sisters lives there, working for the U.S. State Department and spending all day every day on the Rohingya refugee crisis. These minority Muslims have been ethnically cleansed from the Buddhist country. More than 600,000 live in camps in neighboring Bangladesh.
I’m glad that America abroad is still standing up to human rights abuses, because America at home is busy creating them – setting up detention camps for the children of those trying to cross the southern border illegally for the sole purpose of deterring future crossings. …
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I had a slight meltdown in the supermarket Saturday. The plastic bottle recycling machine wasn’t working. (It rarely is.) But that’s not why I was upset. I took the bottles to the Courtesy Desk where I encountered a photograph on the front page of the Daily News that I had seen in a smaller version on the front page of The New York Times. Perhaps you’ve seen it. The picture, by Getty photographer John Moore, shows a 2-year-old Honduran child crying at the border as her mother, attempting to cross illegally, is searched.
I’m not a particularly maternal woman. And, of all the arts I’ve covered, photography is hardly my favorite. I hate the way people act around photos, always posing even when they’re being “natural.” But the power of photography to move instantly is undeniable. Something about that photo shook me to my core and, as I held it up in outrage to the young woman at the Courtesy Desk, I found myself choking up. …
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