The International Jeux

I was treated this evening to the sounds of three very gentile boys gambling for real American money (in the form of stacks and stacks of pennies, or as they describe them, "Lincolns, muthafucka!") with dreidels. And not just any dreidels, but dreidels provided by the Jewish-dominated State of California.

Really, you haven't lived until you've heard a Catholic seven-year-old shouting at the top of his lungs "Cooooome oooooon... GIMEL!"

I'd say we've come a long way. The great egalitarian experiment that is America has allowed us to be open enough long enough for a formerly persecuted, despised and ghettoized minority to escape their limited and proscribed social roles (usury, getting totally pogrom-ed) to rise to positions of such conspicuous influence that in the name of "multicultural diversity," my Jesus-loving children in public school can be systematically indoctrinated into the ways of their mysterious and secretive faith.

Sure, it starts with "Hey, look at this fun game with the top and the gambling!" but now that they're in bed and bath-time has passed, I can tell you that all three of my kids are suddenly circumcised. Any game that ends with missing foreskin is something the PTA is going to hear about from me.

OK, they may have been circumcised shortly after birth, but that is hardly the point. The point here is that things that are coincidences only seem like coincidences if you don't have time in the day to sit down and think of ways they could actually be connected.

Like the guy who threw that shoe at George Bush. Then suddenly, hmm, how strange, there's a thwarted coup attempt by Baath Party Saddamists in Iraq. If you have just enough free time, you can make it seem like the failure of Phase One doomed Phase Two before it could start. Admittedly, any plan that starts with "take out the President with a thrown shoe" is not a great plan, but it's even less so if you fail to consider the cat-like reflexes of a man who has several branches of military special forces at his disposal. This is something Mr. Shoe can consider while the nice people in Sub-Basement ZZ many miles beneath a nondescript Kinko's in Alexandria, Va., fit him for his electrified steel genital sock.

But these Iraqis, their thinking is too insular, too small, too provincial. They allow themselves to get so caught up in little things like the total physical and social dismantling of their country that they end up doing crazy shit like throwing shoes and reconsituting illegal political parties. Maybe they'd take a little wider view if they'd had a dreidel to play with in public schools.