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In New York, many natives fretted about a “Jewish crime wave” that was supposedly plaguing the city during these decades. Young Jews in disturbing numbers, it was said, had joined crime “rackets”—that period’s version of gangs—along with children of Irish and Italian immigrants. During Prohibition and again after World War II, legends grew about gambling and bootlegging rackets led by larger-than-life figures with names like Max “Kid Twist” Zwerbach, “Big” Jack Zelig, Vach “Cyclone Louie” Lewis Charles, and Louis “Lepke” Buchalter…. The fear turned out to be unfounded. But though the history is suggestive, it is not determinative. The question we must ask is whether the immigration reforms proposed today, of the kind supported by former President George W. Bush and current President Obama, as well as the late Senator Edward Kennedy and the very much alive Senator John McCain, unleash on American society a wave of crime and “socially destructive behavior”… And what about the notion that by legalizing illegal immigrants and allowing new immigrants to follow them, the United States is acquiescing in the expansion of the underclass? –“Higher Immigration, Lower Crime,” David Griswold, Commentary
Joe Lieberman’s seemingly insatiable lust for blood, or the rationale for why “Yemen will be tomorrow’s war”;
meanwhile, the Roma still die in Hungary;
terrorists continue to blow up Pakistani Shiites;
and in Houston, “mystery fires” confound arson investigators
I am Tiger Woods, and I understand why the scent of a woman is unbeaten in 2009 and beyond. It is an equal-opportunity addiction, costing manicured, polished stars such as Pitino their coiffed reputations and unknown, dumpy software salesmen their families and jobs. The truth is, I need help not to be Tiger Woods, a support system helpful to this day. That hearing words such as “dog” or terms such as “commitment issues” only serves to mask real issues. We use them so people such as Tiger Woods never take the time to Google “Attachment Disorder” or “Love Addiction” or look at how their old man treated their mom and what kind of message that sent to a gifted child who would grow up to respect a game more than his wife. –“Tiger Woods Does Not Stand Alone,” Mike Wise, The Washington Post
The arguments in favor of making Christmas more like Ramadan
are quite persuasive–the same cannot be said of American strategies for air-security, past, present, or future;
the new measures seem confused and confusing, like the malfunctioning sonar of sick whales dying in shallow water
The state constitution doesn’t say, in so many words, that Carl Mitz has the absolute right to pry open a horse’s mouth, grab hold of the tongue, and commence sawing away at the back molars with a power tool. But Mr. Mitz and his attorneys are pretty sure that’s implied. For a quarter-century, Mr. Mitz has practiced the obscure art of horse-teeth floating. Using instruments roughened with diamond grit, he has filed down hundreds of thousands of equine teeth so that they don’t grow into sharp points that can cut the horses’ cheeks or throw off their chewing rhythms. It’s a fairly mechanical job: Open equine mouth, insert hand, feel for trouble, file rough spots. Not glamorous, but potentially lucrative. Veteran floaters say they can make $300,000 a year. And it suits the laconic Mr. Mitz. “This is what I know,” he says. “This is what I do.” But not, perhaps, for long. –“Texas Horse Dentists Feel the Bite of Regulatory Oversight,” Stephanie Simon, The Wall Street Journal
Years ago, I lived in Montana, a land of purple sunsets, clear streams, and snowflakes the size of silver dollars drifting through the cold air. There were no speed limits and you could legally drive drunk. My small apartment in Missoula had little privacy. In order to write, I rented an off-season fishing cabin on Rock Creek, a one-room place with a bed and a bureau. I lacked the budget for a desk. My idea was to remove a sliding door from a closet in my apartment and place it over a couple of hastily cobbled-together sawhorses.
Amount by which a typical good-looking U.S. worker will out-earn a typical ugly one over a lifetime:
A Japanese inventor unveiled a new invisibility cloak that uses a material made of thousands of tiny beads called “retro-reflectum.”
A couple at a Cracker Barrel restaurant in Greenville, South Carolina, left their waitress a note telling her “the woman’s place is in the home,” in lieu of a tip.
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"She never thanked me, never looked at me—melted away into the miserable night, in the strangest manner I ever saw. I have seen many strange things, but not one that has left a deeper impression on my memory than the dull impassive way in which that worn-out heap of misery took that piece of money, and was lost."