For those of us who look for luminous humor wherever we can find it, the unintentionally funny Los Angeles Sentinel, the black newspaper for our community, is a mandatory waystation. Every Thursday, the confused reporters of the once-respectable Sentinel dare their readers to de-muddify what in the world they are talking about. They cover important news. But by failing to understand the people they are interviewing or the topics they are writing about, the reporters hopefully inadvertently do a disservice to their news-starved readers by babbling incoherently. Reflection, comprehension and context, the three most important underpinnings of a news story, are missing from the Sentinels community reporting. This robs readers of the opportunity to render their own judgments because they have not been given the tools to decide. The banner headline in the current edition screams for attention, Blacks Cry Foul on School Plan. Unavoidably tantalizing. What is the objectionable plan? Why is the black community upset? We never really find out. Sometimes the Sentinel feels like a Jewish newspaper published by anti-Semites. What follows the nifty headline is a convoluted story by the wretchedly baffled Assistant Managing Editor, one Yussuf J. Simmonds. Mr. Simmonds may be a lovely person. But he never gave an indication in his 26-inch story that he had even a remote grasp of what he was talking about.
The Unusual Life of a Good Man
After the Sabbath ended on Saturday evening, my wife and I wandered over, not idly, to the Third Street Promenade. We were in a mood to mingle with the hordes of fascinating grownup children who must have had unusual parents to turn out the way they have. Our two-tiered Promenade agenda was both pragmatic (buying fixtures for our home) and social (shmoozing with a valued friend). Obviously I have not known my friend Jerry Rubin, one of Santa Monicas most recognizable personalities, very long. Over these many years, I have only seen him in long trousers one time, at our wedding. Conveniently, we were married not far from where Mr. Rubin and his wife Marissa live. He had a chance to dash home and change as soon as the service was over. Mr. Rubin is one of the two or three most engaging human beings I ever have met. Passion would be his middle name if it werent already Peace Activist.
Murray Is No Model for Young Boys
If you bottled the arrogance that state Sen. Kevin Murray (D-Culver City) has assimilated during his 12 years in Sacramento, you could give each of your 100 closest friends a wine cellar full of hubris for his birthday. Operating as if he were morally illiterate, Mr. Murray haughtily prances through Sacramento and through his Greater Culver City district as if his bullet-proof vest covered his entire body. To frame it differently, if Mr. Murray were as tidy on the inside as he is externally, you would need a lifetime supply of brooms, shovels and disinfectant to clean up the handsome but ethically ugly gentleman. If you must shake hands, bring thick, disposable gloves and a mask so you dont have to witness the odious act you are committing. No matter how slug-like, how thuggish his abominable behavior is these first days of the State Legislatures vacation, you have to believe his mother raised him with better morals than he routinely displays. The indictment against this antithesis of a role model is as lengthy as his record for rectitude is regrettably brief. It is appropriate on Labor Day to crystallize the putrid portrait of this prominent picklepussed passenger on the personal legislative pork barrel train. In his cheaper-by-the-dozen years, Mr. Murray has learned to play the backstage legislative game better than Babe Ruth ever mastered baseball.
What School Board-City Council Tension?
On the afternoon before the start of the school term, a question a senior City Councilman was the apparent rivalry in Culver City between the City Council and the School Board for political supremacy, or at least parity. I dont believe there is a rivalry, said Steve Rose, in his seventh year on the City Council. We each have two distinct purposes. The School District is there t educate the young people of the city, and to do some adult school education, too. City Hall is there to maintain the streets, to provide the protection of police and fire and the parks. Speaking to thefrontpageonline.com 10 days after walking out on the Opening Ceremonies for Fiesta La Ballona because the Mayor asked the President of the School Word to deliver an unscripted greeting, Mr. Rose said that if there is tension, he knows the source. Some people on the Council or the School Board try to create tension, he said. But the vast majority of both groups get along very amicably.
A Big Bite Out of Crime
Do you watch AMW?
If you don’t know what AMW stands for, you probably don’t watch it.
If you watch it, WHY do you watch it?
Why do I watch it? Why do I want EVERYONE to watch it?
Here are some thoughts that pop into my mind when I ask myself those questions:
I’d like to personally spot those criminals and turn them in.
BUT I am only one person. SO I wish AMW could be expanded to cover ALL U.S. criminals fleeing from the law. Even if it took one hour to show all the current fugitives (15 seconds each in the “Hall of Shame”), I believe that enough fugitives would be spotted and reported to make it worthwhile.
Mayor Commits a Holdup, and No One Objects
A good Republican scarcely can afford to go to sleep these troublesome late summer nights with any assurance that his bedding will be intact come the dawn. Especially if he is a middle-aged white male, he loses ground every night. Prominent Democrats have taken to sleeping during the daylight hours. This allows them to be alert after midnight when they can steal from middle-aged white males and hand over their ill-gotten booty to women and minorities, known collectively as “victims,” America’s hottest cottage industry. The latest coup of the year was pulled off yesterday by the Latino Fooler-in-Chief of Los Angeles, Mayor Wrong.
Candidates for Religious Conversion
Stunning news broke a few minutes ago. Every day during this month’s Middle East War, the supposedly neutral United Nations “peacekeepers” in Lebanon published real-time intelligence on Israeli troop movements. They identified the precise location, the exact kind of equipment and detailed descriptions of the type and size of troops. Even, or especially, on those rare occasions when Jews are seen as the overdog in a clash, they often are also fighting against an additional unseen enemy, always the case when the U.N. is involved. Ever since the Jews were imprisoned 3400 years ago by an Egyptian Pharoah, they have been outnumbered in 99 percent of the fights thrust upon them. Ironically, across the millennia of history, Jews never were known for their fighting prowess, until 1948, when they had no choice. Which brings me around to the hundreds, or thousands, of Jewishly useless Jews of Hollywood. Think about it: Does anyone know who the Methodists or the Lutherans or the Presbyterians of Hollywood are? My royalties from a volume called “The Inside Story of the Lutherans of Hollywood” would not pay for a sandwich at Ben Ford’s Filling Station. It would sell fewer copies than a pinup calendar featuring Marjorie Main.
The Academy Lost Its Humility
My stepdaughter, who is opening a preschool in her hometown, was remarking over dinner last night how easy the licensing and documentation process has been for her. No standing in line anymore. With a new infant, Nora has conducted all of her correspondence, stress-free, by mail. By puzzling contrast, the enigmatic people responsible for the Star Prep Academy have been in business a few years, and they still have not accomplished what Nora did on her own this summer just after giving birth for the first time. Go figure. It is fascinating how the attitudinal language of the Academy people has evolved during the past week when the pocket-sized private school was in the community spotlight for the first time. The steady escalation of their tone suggests the Academy had a furtive agenda all along. They may not have been deserving of an outpouring of sympathy after all. In the beginning, Katia Bozzi, the founder, blamed the school’s failure to even apply for basic business documents as a “miscommunication.” That sounded suspicious but harmless until you learned that City Hall had spent the past year using sugar-sprinkled words to cajole the school into softly, sweetly complying. What does “miscommunication” have to do with defiantly ignoring fundamental rules?
Scant Comfort for a Harassed Owner
I doubt that Les Surfas drew meaningful solace from the two most recent stories covering his fight with City Hall over whether the city gets to seize his property for redevelopment purposes. Yesterday’s story in the Food Section of the Los Angeles Times (“Will Surfas stay or will it go?”)underscored the little-appreciated universality of the Surfas businss. The headline accents a critical point made in the second sentence of the story. The reporter refers to Mr. Surfas’ “eponymous restaurant supply and gourmet food store.” Both sides of Mr. Surfas’ company are very large deals to people thousands of miles off. This may come as a bulletin to some natives or residents. When visiting the power alleys of Our Town, I do not remember Mr. Surfas’ name surfacing as a major player in this community.
Now You Know Why the Academy Was Run Out of Town
I was powerfully unimpressed with the two professionals whom Katia Bozzi, the founder of the Star Prep Academy, chose to represent her in Monday night’s showdown fight against the Redevelopment Agency. Their sad-sack performances would stamp her ability to evaluate personnel as questionable at best. Based only on their appearances at the speaker podium, a reasonable man can take one step back and say, “Ah, Mrs. Bozzi, now I understand why you lost.” Ostensibly, the Star Prep Academy was issued a 90-day cease-and-desist order to shut down/quit its facility for ignoring the city’s building and safety regulations. City Hall, adopting a spurned lover’s role, wrote letters, made telephone calls and met twice with Academy people. Each time, City Hall’s pleas to conform were couched in the cuddly, cutesy spirit of “oh, pretty please obey our rules.” Each time, the Academy, which seems to be a sturdy, worthy enterprise, apparently blew them off until very recently when someone got the message this was serious.