Liars & Quislings

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Switzerland is a nice country to die in?the state only steals two percent of one's hard-earned dough (and the same applies if it hasn't been hard-earned, thank God)?although at times it feels like most people who live there are dead. It all has to do with law and order, cleanliness and pastoral peace. Not to be compared with the Big Bagel, of course, where the blaring of taxi horns is enough to wake up even a dead Swiss, and where Fred Astaire-like shifty footwork is needed to dodge the spittle, a misdemeanor that will get you 10-to-life in the land of the cuckoo clock. Actually it's really nice to be back in Noo Yawk, the stench in Gstaad from nearby Zug?where the traitor and crook Marc Rich resides?having become intolerable. Mind you, over here the stench is equally bad, with yet another Rich, Frank, doing the honors.

Then there's Paul Krugman, I presume a new kid on the block, having worked as a consultant to Enron?before that he kept busy indoctrinating the young as a teacher?at present trying to proselytize the converted of the Upper West Side. I never heard of this bum, but his CV must have been what got him the job at the Times. Enron, after all, is quite a well-known company. Not that he knows much. Like his colleague Frank (the smelly one) Rich, he prefers the low blow to the bon mot, but then how many at the Times don't? Krugman is a caddy for the likes of George Soros, an egomaniacal, bald-faced phony (he first made his pile, then turned against the system), but thinks Dick Scaife is a little Hitler, without the mustache. (If only Krugman had one percent of what Scaife gives away each year, he might not be so envious and bitter.) Wrong again, Krugman, just as you're wrong about the Rev. Sun Myung Moon influencing policy at The Washington Times, the only paper of record in the nation's capital. In fact, it's almost a blood libel, and the ex-Enron consultant knows it. In all my years of close friendship with two editors-in-chief of The Washington Times, there has never been the slightest suggestion that the Unification Church has tried to influence policy. To the contrary. I remember Arnaud de Borchgrave writing an editorial against a deal the UC was trying to make in Japan, and not even an eyebrow was raised. But looking for the truth in Krugman's writing is like believing David Brock.

Given the fact that he's cried wolf, Brock's credibility must be on a par with Bill Clinton's. Let's face it, one is either a liar or one is not. Brock is a liar, and he has something worse: a quisling quality about him. I don't know him, but what I find repugnant is his lack of manliness and lack of honor. This has nothing to do with his sexual preferences, but the homosexual community could do without the likes of Brock. Kissing and telling stinks where men and women are concerned, and it's just as unmanly when gays do it. I suggest Brock's next book will be the most interesting. He should title it How I Conned First the Right, Then the Left, and Then Had My Double Sex-Change.

Brock is out doing the dirty work of lowlifes of the left, attacking the American Spectator and The Washington Times with his sleazy innuendo and sleazier intimate details (most probably all made up). Bob Tyrrell, Dick Scaife, Wes Pruden, men I know and respect, did not need to conspire against Clinton. Their point was proved when Clinton pardoned not only Marc Rich, but also a cocaine kingpin, a terrorist and a wide variety of petty and not so petty crooks. Clinton was unfit to be president, was a corrupt and pathological liar, and what Hillary called a vast right-wing conspiracy was the effort to expose the grotesque couple's abuses of power. Now Brock is trying to tell us that it was all the fault of Bob Tyrrell and The Washington Times. It is indicative of the man's perverted and treacherous nature. A quisling indeed.

Smears are nothing new to the left. Now we have a Frank Rich Lite in Paul Krugman pretending to be outraged at Brock's revelations. It's par for the course. Since when is the word of a turncoat trusted? Apparently it is where the Times is concerned.

But enough of such unpleasant subjects. Brock, Krugman, Rich, my God, when Arnaud de Borchgrave got me into this business in 1967, he did not warn me I'd have to deal with such scum. I thought my problems would be people like Charlie, as in Charlie Vietcong, little realizing that Charlie was not only brave and honorable, he was much easier on my olfactory nerves than this rabble would be 25 years later. Pfeeeww!

Still, it's great to be back in Noo Yawk. Michael Mailer, a wonderful tough guy and probably the only honest producer in the world of movies, is thinking of developing Nothing to Declare, my book on my experiences being a guest of the Queen?as doing time is euphemistically known in depressing Old Blighty. Michael is an expert in making movies on budget, on time and without using Hollywood accounting. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't flattered, but two minutes into negotiations we hit a rough spot. I'd like to see Billy Zane play me, as I've heard he's part Greek and all that. Michael thought Rupert Everett was perfect to play the poor little Greek boy. If he weren't the tough amateur boxing champ that he is, I'd take Michael out and do a Brock on him.

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