Black Racist Schumer Votes Against Trump Judicial Nominee Because He Has White Skin

SCHUMER VOTED NO ON JUDICIAL NOMINEE BECAUSE HE IS WHITE

by  Paul Mirengoff   at PowerLine:

Chuck Schumer today voted against the confirmation of Marvin Quattlebaum for a vacancy on the U.S. District Court for the District of South Carolina. His reason? Quattlebaum is white.

Schumer explained:

The nomination of Marvin Quattlebaum speaks to the overall lack of diversity in President Trump’s selections for the federal judiciary. Quattlebaum replaces not one, but two scuttled Obama nominees who were African American.

Actually, Quattlebaum replaces Judge Cameron McGowan Currie who is white. Evidently, Schumer believes that if President Obama nominated a black to replace her, President Trump is obligated to nominate a black too. The notion is ludicrous.

Moreover, of the two African-Americans nominated by Obama for this slot, one was withdrawn because she twice lowered bail for criminal suspects who went on to commit homicide. The other nominee became the Chief Justice of the South Carolina Supreme Court.

Schumer continued:

As of February 14th, 83 percent of the President Trump’s confirmed nominees were male, 92 percent were white. That represents the lowest share of non-white candidates in three decades. It’s long past time that the judiciary starts looking a lot more like the America it represents.

Blacks make up about 4.5 percent of all lawyers in America. But because black admission to law school has increased in recent years, they are a smaller proportion of lawyers in the age group from which the federal judiciary is drawn.

Trump has nominated 87 federal judges. One is black. Based on black representation among lawyers in the reasonably eligible age group, we would expect Trump to have nominated around three blacks. The shortfall (two judges) is insignificant.

Moreover, Trump, like all modern presidents, likes to pick judges whose view of the law and the judicial role is more-or-less in line with his. It’s likely that the vast majority of black lawyers hold a view of the law and the judicial role that’s quite different from Trump’s.

Thus, the fact that Trump has only nominated one African-American so far can fully be explained by the very small number of eligible black lawyers whose view of the law and of judging is remotely close to Trump’s.

To be sure, more than one good, middle-age black lawyer holds views of the law and of judging that align with Trump’s. Thus, Trump could, consistent with his desire to nominate conservatives, indulge in race-based preferential selection to raise the number of black nominees. In other words, he could select blacks because they are black.

But judges should be selected based on merit (including, importantly, the merit of their judicial philosophy, as viewed by the president), not race. Schumer, in effect, is demanding that Trump discriminate in favor of blacks based on their race.

That’s how most Democratic politicians roll these days.

Fortunately, not all Senate Dems were willing to vote against Quattlebaum because he is white, though most were. The Senate confirmed him by a vote of 69-28.

Senator Tim Scott, the African-American who represents South Carolina, promptly congratulated Quattlebaum.

 

http://www.powerlineblog.com/archives/2018/03/schumer-voted-no-on-judicial-nominee-because-he-is-white.php

My Days in Finland

My Days in Finland….by Glenn H. Ray:

I am a child of  World War II.   I was born male and dyslexic into a world which had not yet discovered dyslexia.   I was born into a world of old maid, Godfearing school teachers, learned, wise, discipline demanding, JudeoChristian Americans who during the WWII years, kept reminding me both privately in class  before my fellow students, with pointed finger in my face, “Remember, Glenn Ray, there are two reasons why you must learn knowledge:  It will make you closer to God, for God knows all matter, and by accumulating knowledge  you will  make better choices when you vote.”   (I can still see the size and shape of those fingers threatening me about two inches from my nose, first grade, second grade and third grade.)

I was the only student among 36 in each classroom who sustained such personal discipline.  I loved school learnings…..I simply couldn’t read books  beyond a page or two.  Yet, I loved maps!   It was big War time.   I could draw maps of the U.S. and Europe by heart.  I could read newspaper headlines such as “Battle Raging at  Midway”, and cut lines  attached to battle pictures at sea.  I had relatives in the Pacific Navy.

I loved Finland early in life….They had beaten back the invading Russians before the big War began.   My dad had told me Russia was a country run by gangsters.

I entered college, the University of Minnesota, fall of 1952, majoring in Geography,  minoring in Russian and European History.   This university at the time charged $35 per quarter of study.   This university at the time reminded incoming students that only 1/4th of them  would graduate with a Bachelor’s  degree, so don’t waste time.

I loved learning….I never paid much attention to grades.  I didn’t compete.  I loved Mother Earth, but  failed Geomorphology my Junior year.   Climatology was boring, but required.  I loved Astronomy….My God, What a Universe out there!!

Winston Churchill  was still alive…. He invented adages about as frequently as he smoked cigars.    His invention of language which haunted me most, ran thusly:

“THE MOST EXHILARATING MOMENT IN ONE’S  LIFE……IS TO BE SHOT AT!………………..  and    To HAVE BEEN MISSED!”

I was an alert child of that WWII.  We boys would play “bombing Nazis” weekly….more often in winter when we’d build installations to assault with snow, a  season  which   was so much more fun  to bomb with snowballs.   I often wondered what I’d really do in a war under pressure of  being  shot at or lying  in a “fox hole” awaiting assault as I had seen in movies….so after my first bout with college, I entered the army through the Enlisted Reserves.

I returned from duty without being battle tested and returned to the University to earn an Education degree, for I was already married and had to qualify for a profession I loved, sharing knowledge, as  my beloved old maid school teachers had instructed me.

I  visited Finland, Minnesota in 1956 pre-military time….a four day retreat required by the then University’s Geography department…I already knew that Finns, although then very Lutheran in religion as were Scandinavian Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, were not at all Scandinavians.   Finns were refugees from Asia as were (Huns) Hungarians of the Danube fleeing from the Tatars of Mongol invasions centuries earlier.   At the edges of the Gulf of Bothnia, Finns could find escape  land no further West.   They found  safety  in the thick  Northern Forests.

While studying  Minnesota’s forest  Finns of the 1950s I learned the culture was matriarchal.  I’d guess that no longer exists today.

While teaching Russian at the University of Minnesota High School, I became curious to  learn more about languages in general…so I began my studies in German, Spanish,  Chinese……and then  FINNISH….again each quarter at  $35 per quarter.

Dennis Prager, my guru of choice over the past twenty years,  was programming from Nashville, Tennessee this AM, Minnesota time.   During second hour he lassoed some guy from Finland for a chat, and was joking about the scarcity of Finns being interviewed on American radio, they are so remote from the active world.    Dennis is aware of languages….  Finnish is an Urgic not a Scandinavian language…..one of the toughest foreign languages a nonFinn could ever learn!   (Learning Chinese is kids play  compared to Finn talk!”)

As I remember 60 plus  years later,  the language commands fifteen grammatical “cases”…you know, the subject, possessive, indirect object, direct object divisions we have in English to direct information in some kind of communicative order.

Dennis was quite upbeat about the Finn friend he was interviewing.   Finns had lived borderline to Stalinist Soviet Russia for decades and yet, remained independent and generally democratic.  Moreover,  in truth, the Finns  defeated  Stalin’s invasion attempt of their nation  during the late 1930s.

My first visit to Soviet Russia was in 1966 when with more fact than fiction, it was still a Stalinist level police state.   I had been taught the Tsar’s Russian in Minnesota…..I wasn’t aware of such a nuance  at the time.   I spoke it as I was taught……by Russian  refugees from Manchuria when mass murderer Mao Tse Tung had finally conquered all of China in 1949.   Yes, I did sense these folks, my Manchurian Russian teachers of the language, were aristocratic, precise, and demanding of their language they taught, but I had no idea it was as beautifully spoken as the Queen’s English used to be.  I learned to speak Russian as I was told by these Tsarist immigrants.

When I arrived in the USSR in 1966, I immediately bought “Soviet Russian” clothes….saggy black cotton trousers, and a couple wrinkly long sleeved white shirts.  I wanted to appear as native as possible wherever I went…Moscow, Kief, Rostov, Sochi, Leningrad.

In Sochi I had caused a crowd of more than  hundred gathering on the shore of the Black Sea….Russians were very, very private then when in public  in Moscow or Leningrad.   Silence ruled, or a dozen or more  of armed police would arrive well armed to  scatter upon mere appearance.   Not so, this time in Sochi.    They waited ten minutes before politely dispersing the crowd.

As I was walking toward my residence, two attractive couples, Georgians in their thirties asked me if I would like to join them in a cave restaurant nearby.   They said they were on vacation.   All four said they  had enjoyed my conversations and answers to questions  with the previous crowd.   They seemed very, very  confident in carriage and speech, so at first I suspected they might be secret police folks.

They asked about my family, trade….(I taught Russian at the high school level), how many cars did I own, did I live in a house, did I own it, were my parents still alive?  (They were!)….and then the group paused.   I waited for more questions….but one of the gals direct  me to keep talking…(Please, just talk!   I have never heard anyone speak Russian as beautifully as you do!”).  She then caught agreement from the other three, so they asked me where  I learned my Russian.

I answered  truthfully….”From strict, very demanding Tsarist aristocratic Russians who fled to the United States from  Manchuria”.

Since then I have always felt some  guilt, for I never had a chance to thank these Tsarists  for their talents as teachers.

A fascist nation is a difficult nation to endure.  One is always in fear of the secret police.  Throughout my 1966 Soviet visit I never realized the tension I was collecting within me masked by the enjoyment of being able to speak person to persons more freely than I had expected.   The American group I traveled to the USSR with was made up of twenty public school teachers who had received a grant called the National Defense Education Act….a Eisenhower grant to teachers of Russian …..to educate our American young to know more about our major world competitor at the time.

At visit’s end, our group of twenty left Moscow for Helsinki, Finland on a beautiful late August day.  Three or four of our group of  gals strangely began crying quietly upon take-off.   Otherwise, there were no noises, no chatting, no activity, almost no breathing……only apparent exhaustion!

……until we landed, taxied, and halted  at our Helsinki air port….when with NO PLOTTING, NO PLAN, NO EXPECTATION, THE ENTIRE AMERICAN SOVIET TRAVEL GROUP SHOUTED AND CLAPPED JOYOUSLY  ALMOST  OUT OF CONTROL, AND WHEN DOORS WERE OPENED, DESCENDED UPON THE EARTH BELOW AND KISSED IT!

FREEDOM AGAIN, FREEDOM, FINLAND AT LAST!

 

 

When  in Kiev on the shores of the Volga,  I’d cause conversations with couples around age 30.   One Sunday I purposely wore my yellow swim trunks where thousands of males wore saggy black things about to fall off at any moment.

After a brief swim in the river, I intentionally approached two couples in their thirties sitting on a blanket playing some kind of card game to open a conversation.  “Excuse me, what card game are you playing”…..No vocal response whatsoever…which I expected!   I apologized for  interrupting, and then mentioned  I was a  “foreigner”, and so curious…..Still no response.    Then I excused myself and turned to find some other “victim” for conversation.   One of the guys apparently   bored about the entire scene rather rudely asked,  “Ot kooda vwi?”   ( “Where are you from?”)…and I knew they were trapped!  ” Ya, Amyericanetz”…and then paused and again apologized, but before I could finish my  words, I saw the shock on all three faces….and then they were hooked, as I had   hoped from experience.

They asked me to sit down with them and with great curiosity  quizzed me for two hours in the most polite manner.   One of the gal’s Mother then arrived on the scene.  I stood up when introduced to her, and that is when a large  crowd began to gather…..to more than one hundred.   There wasn’t a snotty phrase in any of the discussions or quizzes.  We chatted for another hour when six or seven well armed police finally appeared, and nastily shouted to break up the crowd.   Their uniforms were made of gunny sack.  It was 80 degrees F.   They were sweating like waterfalls.

They didn’t look happy!

I was very surprised to hear several voices from the crowd shout at the police to leave all of us alone….Several of them yelled…”He’s an American.  You’re embarrassing us!”  and repeated it again and again.   They physically separated me from my “new friends”  and told me it was time  to take a swim.