copyright © 2025 by Robert l. Blau
Joe's a decent guy, but he's an awful bleeding heart wuss. Well, a bleeding something wuss. Take his opinions on immigrants. Please.
"Look," he says, "all of us are either immigrants or the descendants of immigrants."
"Sure," I reply patiently, "but not of these immigrants. Or of anyone like
them. They don't send us their brightest, you know. These people have,
maybe, sixth-grade educations - if they're lucky! And they don't
speak English! Only their own lingo! They won't assimilate!"
"Oh, what nonsense," says Joe. "They're no different from your forebears or mine."
"Ol' Ben Franklin knew what they were like," I point out. "He said they
were 'generally of the most ignorant stupid sort of their own nation.'
And he said we should be careful about letting people of "swarthy
complexion" into the country! You should listen to good ol' Ben! And
the President says they're just waiting to betray us!"
"These people are just as patriotic as you are," Joe insists.
"Oh, yeah? Well, this is 1917, and there's a war going on, and the Hun is right here among us," I point out.
Joe sighs. Theatrically, I would say.
"Well, consider this!" I say. "What if, some day, some Hunnish
descendant somehow winds up as President of the United States, huh? Do you want to take responsibility for that? Why won't people listen?"