Hey, What About New Jersey?

By Jack Engelhard

 

My wagering tradition compels me to handicap ahead of time, so rather than wait for the polls to close, here are my bets even as the numbers are still being counted. I predict Obama is going to win. If not, McCain is a shoo-in. That’s my prediction. You can take it to the bank – if you still have a bank. Anyway, along with the rest of New Jersey, I am voting for one or the other. Too bad there are no exactas as at the race track where they can be coupled.

 

I will not tell you about my choice in the voting booth because you might not love me anymore. (But can we still be friends?)

 

So why am I voting? I don’t know. New Jersey is a lock. New Jersey is deep in the bag for Obama. We are a Bruce Springsteen State (though he is not MY Boss) and we are a Blue State, which is not necessarily the same as singing the blues. (I’ve often wondered about this.) The question is this: Are we really a State?

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The Boys OFF The Bus

By Jack Engelhard

 

Is vengeance coming? First, kill the messengers? Three reporters whose newspapers failed to editorially sanctify Barack Obama (opting for John McCain) have been told there’s no room at the inn or on the plane. Correspondents for the New York Post, Washington Times and Dallas Morning News have been exiled from Air Obama.

 

Already an Enemies’ List? So soon? We can only imagine what comes later. (Nixon at least waited until he got in.)

 

Obviously there will be payback upon apostates. There will be blood, so to speak. To paraphrase Rev. Wright, “The chickens will come home to roost to those who have been disloyal to Obama.” Turning once again to Rev. Wright – “Gawd damn Americans who disrespect Obama.” (Just ask Joe the Plumber.) Names will be remembered. Scores will be settled. There will be reckonings.

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Fiction Friction, News Blues

By Jack Engelhard

 

When I heard that an obscure French-born novelist had won the Nobel Prize, I thought it must be me and I began eyeing that red Cadillac. After all, I fit all three categories. I am obscure. I am French-born. I am a novelist. Who else could it be? A man named Jean-Marie Gustav Le Clezio, that’s who. Oh well, as we say in baseball (and the economy) – wait till next year.

 

I hope Le Clezio wins us over. This is not promising. There have been no long lines for preceding Nobel champs, big names like Orhan Pamuk and Elfriede Jelinek.

 

Hemingway got the jitters when he won it and in fact he wanted no part of it due to the jinx.

 

But I’m stalling. I’ve really come here to talk about THE DEATH OF THE NOVEL. The latest to have his crack at this is columnist Kyle Smith writing in today’s New York Post (Sunday, Oct. 12). He sums it all up, in my favorite newspaper, by saying (if not in those words) that, in this fast-paced age of technology, fiction does not speak for our times.

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Charlie Gibson’s Gong Show

By Jack Engelhard

 

This was supposed to be Sarah Palin’s first big test but it was Charlie Gibson and the yuppity media that flunked for the sins of prejudice, snobbery and arrogance. This can’t be the best we’ve got in American journalism, a tradition that goes back to Mark Twain, Ernest Hemingway, Ernie Pyle, H.L. Mencken and Edward R. Murrow. Those days are gone.

 

This was not journalism’s finest hour — or how many hours it took for Gibson to blitz the VP nominee.

 

This was no interview. This was a trial.

 

I don’t care what side of the isle you sit on, Democrat or Republican, but you should be worried about the power of information, that it’s become so corrupted.

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Where Have You Gone Sandy Koufax?

By Jack Engelhard

 

The last time I read anything good about Israel (meaning Jews worldwide as well as the nation itself) was when Sandy Koufax pitched for the Dodgers and especially when he sat out the first game of the 1965 World Series because it fell on Yom Kippur. So we have to go back to the 1960s to find anything to celebrate.

 

Ehud Olmert says he’s “tired of winning.” I’m tired of losing. I’m tired of Ehud Olmert.

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