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Clinton's Jews
by Norman Liebmann - Nov. 22, 2000

I am a son of Jewish immigrants. I wear a crucifix as a sign of my gratitude and loyalty to the Christian America that gave my family refuge. A religious ethic and patriotic impulse was fused into me as a boy growing up in the melting pot of New York City when my father used to say to me, "Always behave yourself. Remember, you are a guest in this country."

No more will be said about that.

To speak critically of Jews (unless you're Jesse Jackson) puts one at risk of being labeled an anti-Semite, but I am no more anti-Semitic than Hillary is pro-Israel. It raises my hackles to recall that un-magic moment when Hillary swapped spit with Suha Arafat, and morphed from the First Lady of the United States into the Harlot of Jerusalem. It will surprise no one that in addition to the chateau in Chappaqua, Hillary has a time-share in Argentina with Martin Borman.

It is my confident premise that no Jew can be pro-Clinton without being subliminally anti-Semitic. I am appalled by the bumper crop of apostate Jews at Clinton's disposal, sophists and hypocrites falling on the ground and rolling themselves in the squalor of the Clinton mystique. I see Lieberman, Schumer, Waxman and Wexler prominent among this parasitic life form. They have bet the existence of the Jewish race on Bill Clinton, and would do well to pack their bags for extinction. I can think of no greater slur or sadness for them than to be called Clinton's Jews, for loyalty to Clinton is treason to America, and, in a Jew, a betrayal of God. Any Jew who would say, "I support Bill Clinton" would also say, "Hey, Mr. Gestapo-man, Anne Frank is hiding in the attic."

Clinton has rallied to his cause - Boxer, Feinstein, Schumer, Lieberman, Waxman, Wexler, and others whose psychological profile fit those Jewish trustees at Auschwitz and Buchenwald. They were called Kapos - Jews who collaborated with the Nazis in the death camps, sewing drapes for the "interrogation" rooms, or, perhaps, serving as a maitre d' at the reservation desk at the gas chambers, while unhooking the velvet rope and announcing ceremoniously, "Jews - party of six million." As a reward, they were allowed to live long enough to count the bodies of their relatives. Among "Klinton's Kapos" are -

KLINTON KAPO 1. Joseph Lieberman brought caricature to ecstasy, and has made himself a bigot's delight. His expression of pained concern serves only to mock genuine caring. His much-advertised religious orthodoxy revealed itself to be an amalgam of political opportunism and personal conceit. In his effort to appear rabbinical he makes himself pontifical. His sanctimony must have God reaching for the Pepto Bismol.

In Lieberman's conception of orthodoxy there is no disparity between pious and bias. All his moralizing on the Senate floor manifested in a "No" vote on impeachment. It was tantamount to keeping a kosher home all year but breaking the Yom Kipper fast with a plate of pork chops. Beyond that dietary indiscretion, there is also the matter of his dismissive views on abortion, homosexuality, and rape. The Elders of the Synagogue rightfully decided Lieberman's professings are not only un-kosher, un-Torah, and blasphemous; they also suck. They escorted him to the back door of the synagogue, and instead of an "Oy Vay!" they gave him the "Heave Ho!" Joe got off lightly, as Jewish ritual doesn't deal with backsliders by repossessing their circumcisions. Lieberman's pretension to orthodoxy defames Judaism. If he believes in the Talmud, it is one rewritten by Susan Estrich (the media-beast who sounds as though she gargles with Rogaine.)

KLINTON KAPO 2. Charles "The Boomer" Schumer sunk to his rightful place in the Senate. Though endlessly proclaiming his expertise on guns and the Middle East, this is a guy who thinks AK-47 is the size of Madeleine Albright 's brassiere, and the Knesset is a delicatessen in Bensonhurst. Schumer is the point man in confiscating guns so they can be redistributed in the inner cities, which Clinton plans to convert into Hezbollah training camps.

Now we come to Barbara Boxer and Dianne Feinstein in whom Clinton found his most malleable gadgets for implementing his brand of socialized feminism, a kind of Bimbo Bolshevism - and Klinton's principal Kapos:

KLINTON KALIFORNIA KAPO 3. Barbara Boxer has the demeanor of a cranky hospital patient, whose nurses would bring a bedpan, but make it a point not to retrieve it. She has all the warmth and charm of a tray of dental instruments, and a frown that could twist an obstinate cap off a bottle of ketchup. Her irascibility has been ascribed to the fact that she wears sandpaper lingerie. She is known not for her capacity to reason, but to carp, and her addresses to the Senate are designed to cover everything Gloria Steinem forgot to bitch about. Ms. Boxer is living certification of the perception not everyone is entitled to an opinion.

KLINTON KALIFORNIA KAPO 4. Dianne Feinstein is with us for six more years because that festival of eunuchs called the Republican Party reached into its bottomless bag of castrati for yet another boy soprano to oppose her. (Significantly, the name Feinstein is as close as one can get to an anagram for Feminist without stepping in it.)

Feinstein, world class ditherer, has adopted a studied look of agonized sincerity, eyebrows vaulted up to form a Gothic arch of anguish. She has the demeanor of a consolation prize that went unclaimed, and maintains a pained expression of someone whom, while backing out of a room, accidentally got her ass caught on a doorknob. Her smile is suffocating.

Forever twisting her handkerchief in response to some unspecified and trivial anguish, she suggests a cemetery visitor browsing interments, hoping to find one more prestigious than the one to which she was invited.

She attempts to appear sincere, but instead looks like a basset hound with a case of the blues. No calamity is too minor for her to lament. She whimpers where angels fear to whine. Feinstein exudes a kind of synthetic angst, which leaves a soupy trail of sympathy wherever she walks. Her countenance has been stretched out by the years of schmaltzy compassion, and her face seems to hang off her skull like a woolen sweater that got drenched in the rain.

A one-time Mayor of San Francisco, Feinstein is still the darling of the Guess My Sex crowd. It was she who suggested a counseling service for transsexuals with Alzheimer's Disease who felt a need to be periodically reminded of what sex they used to be. It was the softhearted Feinstein who ordered those noisy garbage trucks not to go out until afternoon so that the San Francisco homeless could sleep in. She passed an ordinance forbidding tourists from petting the homeless after learning the ones who still have teeth bite. She required hospitals to designate AIDS as, if not curable, at least, a politically correct disease.

Lacquered and ornamented, Boxer and Feinstein are a tribute to the embalmer's art. Their wattles are always carefully camouflaged with splashy scarves. CSPAN notwithstanding, one wonders at the need for all this grooming. (A cursory glance at Barbara Mikulski will tell you the Senate is not the Follies Bergere.) The clash of their colognes leaves the Senate chamber smelling like a gay bar in which they just held an aerobic class. At the end of each session the DC Fire Department has to show up and hose down the chamber with Pine Sol.

If California is not today known as the People's Republic of Clinton it is not because "Babs" and "Di Di" didn't try for it. To curry favor with Bubba, they have endorsed, among other things, oppressive taxation, eugenics, confiscation, Arkansas-inspired Nuremberg Laws, corrupt off-shore despotisms, global hegemony, big lie media, homosexual indoctrination of children, social promotion, voter fraud, kinky consortiums, genocide as a means of discouraging unpopular religions (Waco), a Census Bureau conducting Gestapo-like interrogations, illegal immigration, feminization of the military, Hollywood mediocrity, collusion, perjury, perversion, rape, treason, sperm stains, ebonics and contributing to the delinquency of a cigar. So, it's not like they don't stand for something. A reliable rule of thumb is, if it looks like a Nazi and quacks like a Nazi, it must be a Senator from California.

Ten minutes after meeting Boxer and Feinstein, Fagin would have become a Presbyterian. The Clinton Administration's eight-year long Thirty Pieces of Silver Sale is coming to an end, but Boxer and Feinstein need not lament. They will have no difficulty transferring their affection from Bubba to Al Gore, reasoning there is no reason why the party of perversion, perjury and treason should not also be the party of usurpation. Having imposed on this nation a President who is a liar, pervert, and traitor, the Democrats now offer us a maniac poised to claim he is the inventor of fire. Apparently someone who recognizes "no controlling legal authority" in stealing the Presidency or inciting mutiny aboard the Good Ship Lollypop, will not draw the line at copyright infringement.

Boxer and Feinstein believe high office is a deodorant and a means of denying ingrained feelings of racial inferiority, second-rateness, and a sense of subordinate gender status. Currently, Clinton's Jews seek to submerge their ethnic identity by such means as subverting Israel, and garnishing kosher hot dogs with mayonnaise. Like Edgar Allen Poe's Purloined Letter, their feelings of second-rateness are hidden in plain sight.


Clinton has genius for using the lemming instinct rampant in some Jews to his purpose. Further, he has a genius for surrounding himself with people who have a compelling psychological need to submit. Like Hitler, Clinton knows how to manipulate feelings of boredom, inadequacy and the more monstrous impulses of the libido. The ennui of these lady solons is a greater threat to this nation than the nuclear secrets Clinton treasoned away to China for campaign bucks.

Seemingly, "Babs" and "Di Di" are thrilled that the first priapist President is a Democrat. Like house cats they are only content when winding themselves around his ankles and rubbing themselves up against his shins. They are enamored by this big corrupt dumpling from the Ozarks, and watch enthralled as he sops up the gravy of American largesse, suckles the juices out of the great American teat, and spits them into the mouths of the recipient classes, too lazy or inept to suckle for themselves. If indeed there is a Clinton legacy it is that Americans no longer have to go to France to live in a dissolute country.

For "Babs" and "Di Di", Clinton is their Cohabitant-at-Large, Prince of Perversion, and Black Knight riding to the deflowering of interns other black knights have already turned down. He is their Poster Boy for Moral Turpitude and their King of Crap. After a perjurer, rapist and traitor in the Oval Office, they will have no conscience about transferring their affections to a usurper.

In exchange for prestige, Boxer and Feinstein offered Clinton their silence. In considering the weight and number of Clinton's crimes, compared with their muteness, the Grand Silence of the Convent sounds like Rio during Mardi Gras. They remained silent as Clinton transferred dictatorial powers to Janet Reno (the Swamp Dike through whom he works his treason and corruption) - silent when, though militant about "women's issues", he cheated on Hillary. Unlike Bill Clinton, Benedict Arnold at least stayed loyal to his wife - silent about the degradation of education, as Clinton, the Robin Hood of racism, stole from the middle class to send the "rappers" to college - silent when Louis Farrakhan called Judaism "a gutter religion" and Jesse Jackson referred to New York City as Hymietown - silent when the Chinese tanks in Tienanmen Square flattened students into cardboard cutouts - silent when Ronald Reagan took down the Berlin wall, and lauded Clinton when he took down his pants - silent about the Clinton's rape of Juanita Broaddrick (as he bit her lip they just bit theirs) - silent about Janet Reno's Waco tailgate party in which she barbecued eighty-odd women and children - silent about the price squeeze on crude oil after finding out Clinton was trying to negotiate Arkansas a membership in OPEC - silent as Clinton's Department of Justice tried to destroy Microsoft, a company that has so enriched their home state of California. (For Boxer and Feinstein, Microsoft is just another corporate virgin to be thrown into a volcano, a sacrificial victim in their reckless idolatry of Clinton worship) - silent while Clinton peddled missile technology to the Chinese for campaign dollars, and made California cities Ground Zero. (If the Chinese nuke Los Angeles, Clinton's response will be, "The customer's always right.") - silent as Clinton condoned illegal immigration that has "Balkanized" California. (Boxer wants to change the name of the state to Mexifornia, while Feinstein is holding out for Baja Slovakia.)

Injustices blow across the Senate chamber floor like tumbleweed, and the only response is the low moan of the wind. Apparently, Boxer and Feinstein are saving their casuistry for the cameras at The Million Yenta March. The rally will open with the singing of "I am Woman, Hear Me Whine", after which the ladies will assemble in front of the Washington Monument to feign a mass orgasm. (Boxer is working on a bill to legalize partial birth orgasm, which provides for the enfranchisement of every woman in America to fake sexual climaxes.)

Assumably, Boxer and Feinstein are drawn to the Clinton Administration's overarching policy of governance by these empty gestures - candlelight vigils, Million Man Muddles, affirmative unction, and black church hootenannies. Clinton's bleating about diversity has only served to make bigotry fashionable.

In Germany, in 1933, bleeding hearts like Boxer and Feinstein were forming Fair Play for Hitler committees. The Hitler/Clinton metaphor is an easy one. Had they been around in the forties, when six million Jews were being forced to inhale Zyklon B, "Babs" and "Di Di" would be doing overnights at Berchtesgaden. These ladies are truants from their faith, and bystanders watching Clinton herd what's left of the Jews to destruction - the Eleventh Lost Tribe of Israel getting ready to join the other Ten.

It's not without precedent; attachment by Jews to fascists like the Clintons provides ventilation for their own latent anti-Semitism. One senses in Boxer and Feinstein such unsettling feelings of ethnic worthlessness and self-loathing as Jews and women, a self-rejecting emptiness that they seek to fill up with Styrofoam deference that comes with parasitic bonding to such risen dreck as Bill Clinton. If you require an association with Clinton to make you feel like somebody, you are indeed nobody, less than nobody, or measuring in negative values, Rosie O'Donnell. Boxer and Feinstein cannot discern between importance and self-importance. They never lack for such smugness. Their bodies manufacture it - like sweat.

With feminists increasingly imposing their will, the Senate may soon replace its desks with vanity tables, and what was once called a recess will be an IIB (Internal Irrigation Break.) Hillary's arrival will not change the character of the Senate where honor is already on the Endangered Integrity List.

Boxer and Feinstein continue to waft through the halls of the Capitol, doing embroidery work on the Orwellian nightmare that is liberalism. They continue to stridulate demands and express opinions that have no intelligent design. Like two officious aunties, they hover over the Senate Dining Room coaching the solons as to which morsel on their plates is appropriate to eat first. All absurdity becomes reasonable when you consider the Senate is run by Mississippi's favorite eunuch, Trent Lott, who wandered in dorkless from the Delta.

In addition to their legislative "busy work", Boxer and Feinstein will serve as handmaidens to Dame Hillary, the Marie Antoinette of Wellesley, as she intensifies her efforts in the vaginalization of America. Bubba's feminization of the military has already given rise to a new phenomenon called the victim-warrior. Generations hence, the exchange between father and son might go like this.

"What did you do in the war, Daddy?",
"I was a Gynecologists Mate on a battleship."
"What do Gynecologist Mates do, Daddy?"
"They surrender."

To explain the political success of the Clintons one need not consider any explanation more profound than that the Devil looks after his own. The Senate will, of course, be the launching pad from which in 2004, Hillary will throw her tiara in the presidential ring. America needs another Clinton in the White House like a Chinese circus needs another acrobat.

The Clinton legacy is worse than anything we could ever have imagined. With Hillary (Robo-bitch) in office we can expect an even more rapid and virulent poisoning of the well of the Republic. It took Hillary, darling of the New York rabble, only two days as Senator-elect to attack the Constitution by suggesting abolishing the Electoral College. Hitler waited a more discreet period of time before burning the Reichstag.

Eight years of Clinton worship has revived the Edwardian prejudice that women have tiny minds and no souls. Boxer and Feinstein are hopeless bondmaids of idolatry. They are political camp followers. They collect Clinton's dandruff as treasured artifacts, and consider his feces confetti. They are disarmed by his free and easy air of the casual fanatic. They admire his nonchalance as he pisses on the Constitution. They are in the mold of love-starved hens that, in 1926, threw themselves across Rudolph Valentino's casket. These are not just shills, they are love slaves. Likely, if they thought it would get them a pat on the head from Bubba, they would have sacrificed their first born. The only person who expresses love for Bill Clinton more ardently than Boxer and Feinstein is Barney Frank who, during a Clinton State of the Union speech, took down his trousers and threw his panties up at the podium. "Babs" and "Di Di" are obsessed with Clinton the same way Patty Hearst was with Cinque, head honcho of the Symbionese Liberation Army. Patty claimed to have been repeatedly raped by her captors, which may have enabled her to realize the feminist's dream - sex without the condescension of voluntary participation. Hence, as Hearst was a prisoners of love, Boxer and Feinstein are prisoners of their need for prestige, though, beneath their hoity-toityness, they are more in their element sitting at an oilcloth covered kitchen table in a torn housecoat watching soap operas, swilling tea from old Kraft cheese spread jars, and dreaming up ways to further deny their ethnic origins. Still, they consider themselves elite, and Jews in Israel are paying with their lives for their vanity. After so many died so horribly, one would think these post-post-debs would have grown up with an ambition other than becoming SS campfollowers for Gruppenführer Clinton.

Boxer and Feinstein are addled mentalities at work. They do not know their heritage. They look at Auschwitz and see Starbucks. Clinton worship has made them unable to discern between poverty and puberty. They afford the Constitution of the United States as much respect as any of last year's shmattes (rags) hanging in their closets. These liberal ladies yammer, not for the rights of the victim, but for the whims of the aberrant. They demand protections for the sexually deviant, and humiliation for the emotionally symmetrical.

A Nero Administration results when a pervert is allowed to exercise his whims - no less true of an Arkansas degenerate. Irrespective of his trysting with callow interns, Clinton's true romance is with Death. He needs a body count to give his criminally deranged foreign policy an appearance of logic. As corpses stack up like cordwood, Clinton is being considered the Pol Pot of the West. Haiti was an important element in his design for globalism in case support slipped in the inner cities and he needed a standby ghetto. He left Rwanda to solve its problems by genocide, as neither the Hutu or the Tutsi tribes have any registered Democrats.

We are always sure Clinton would supply a race war but not sure which country he would supply it in. He likes to surprise us. For Israel, the Clinton Administration is the Holocaust Part 2. The bodies of the six million Jews having been mortified, Satan has sent Bubba to mortify their souls. Clinton convinced Ehud Barak it is the destiny of the Jews to live on one side or the other of a barbed wire fence, and the barbed wire that the Nazis used to keep the Jews in would serve as well to keep the Palestinian terrorists out. Bubba thought he deserved to win the Nobel Peace Prize for having come up with the idea of "friendly barbed wire."

As did Hitler, Clinton is using the corpses of Jews in Israel as stepping-stones on his path to legacy. (Senators Boxer and Feinstein are always ready to vote him money to do so.) Clinton sent his agents to provoke violence and death in Jerusalem. He required James Carville to make sure the Dead Sea was really dead and not just mortally wounded. Israel needed Beau Geste, and Clinton sent them Lawrence of Arabia. Clinton keeps looking for peaceful solutions from the United Nations, whose only accomplishment after 55 years is having succeeded in making "everybody" a dirty word.

The nation asked Boxer and Feinstein for the wisdom of their faith and received the faultfinding of feminism. The contradiction is this. Even if their religious scruples prevent them from eating pork, they do not deter them from worshiping it in the person of Bill Clinton. Bubba may come on like he's strictly kosher, but his soul is totally treyf, and just his handshake is enough to transmit trichinosis. Their hypocrisy in supporting Clinton is tantamount to saying cannibalism is okay if the cadaver is prepared in accordance with strict Jewish dietary laws.

The comic sage, Henny Youngman, joked about the time his wife came to him and said she yearned to travel. When he asked where she wanted to go she replied, "Take me somewhere I've never been." He took her to the kitchen. That is funny. Characteristics that endear Jewish women as targets for affectionate teasing and amiable jest, bypass Boxer and Feinstein. When you picture either of them as focal points for raillery about kosher prima donnas (e.g. my wife has a black belt in shopping), the cracks aren't funny anymore. Because of a cultural over-correction, Jewish jokes are considered de trop. Political Correctness has annihilated the ethnic ironies that enriched Jewish culture for a thousand years. Political correctness has re-charted America's course toward the sullen latitudes. Liberalism is a pestilence and there's never been a pestilence that could take a joke.

Norman Liebmann is a former television writer [Johnny Carson, Dean Martin; wrote and produced "Chico and the Man" and created the characters for "The Munsters" (who are all named after his relatives)] and a brilliant and insightful columnist/humorist. Please visit his website Firehat, a treasure trove of Clinton and Media bashing.