After one year of the Trump presidency we are hopeful and optimistic.
Obama’s JV team, ISIS, has been nearly wiped out. Neil Gorsuch sits on the Supreme Court. The Keystone pipeline is, at last, open. The individual mandate is gone. Which spells the beginning off the end for Obamacare. More and more federal lands are being privatized. Trump is rolling back government regulations at a steady clip. The economy is humming along, and the GDP promises to continue rising. Unemployment is at a record low. The DJIA and the NASDAQ are at record highs.
Here’s a simple truth: the more capital in the private sector, the better for all American citizens, which then translates into growth for the world economy.
Trump is doing what he can with an impossible situation in North Korea. As for Iran, we are learning more about Obama’s duplicity regarding the Iranian deal, best summed up in one infamous word: appeasement.
Meanwhile, Israel and America have reached a secret security agreement regarding nuclear Iran. It’s about time.
A long time ago, in a universe far, far away, in a place called Hollywood, the movie studios and the actors who flourished in the dream factories, celebrated their love of America and enthusiastically indulged in overt displays of patriotism.
L.B. Mayer (b. Lazar Meir) the powerful head of MGM, was a pioneer of the motion-picture industry, and the man who invented the star system. Mayer adopted July 4th as his birthday. Scores of Hollywood historians get all snarky about Mayer’s birthday, claiming that he conveniently changed his birthday in order to cash in on a public identification with America.
What these historians fail to recognize is that Mayer probably did not know the date of his birth.
In the beginning of his legendary career, Kirk Douglas (1916 – ) b. Issur Danielovitch, was almost typecast as a well-meaning but ineffectual husband in two fine films, The Strange Love of Martha Ivers, 1946, and A Letter to Three Wives, 1949. But his career ascended into mega-stardom when he played cynical heroes motivated by rage: Champion, 1949, Ace in the Hole, 1951, The Bad and the Beautiful, 1952, Paths of Glory, 1957, Spartacus, 1960, and his favorite picture, Lonely Are the Brave, 1962,
Douglas was never a conventional leading man. Though handsome as a fairy tale prince, he wielded his masculine beauty like a weapon. There was none of the gruff, working class charm that made Gable the King. Douglas was not an urbane gentleman like William Powell, nor a witty charmer like Cary Grant.
Kirk Douglas excelled at playing, in his own words, “sons of bitches.”