1) You may remember our old friend Lori Berenson — the American girl who joined the left-wing terrorists in Peru as their moll. She was a cause célèbre on the left for many years. Now she has returned home — if “home” is the word — to the United States.
I have a lot to say about her, and said a fair amount over the years. But I certainly can’t say it better than Elliott Abrams, who has an article about Lori here. (Elliott is probably best known today as a Middle East specialist, but he is also, of course, a first-rate Latin Americanist — certainly where the politics of the region is concerned.)
A tidbit, I can give you. I saw Jesse Jackson in action once in my life. That is, I saw him in the flesh. He was on the sidewalk in front of National Review’s building — meaning, the building in which NR is housed, here in New York. At the time, the Peruvian consulate was in this building as well.
Jackson was agitating for Lori. He was holding a little media event — one of his stunts. I saw his m.o. It was not a pleasant sight to behold.
2) Speaking of unpleasantness: I have an op-ed piece in the Washington Times today headed “Children of Monsters: No one can choose his parents, but other choices are decisive.” It is derived from my new book. The piece begins,
What’s it like to be the son or daughter of a dictator? That depends. It can be great while the going is good. You have tremendous privilege and are a prince or princess in your country. But when the going is bad, it can be very bad, indeed.
Few are the dictators’ children who escape imprisonment, exile, murder or some other unwanted fate.
3) In a post below, I used the word “kumbaya,” in a mocking way — to mean a touchy-feely universalism, divorced from reality. But I feel a little guilty: because “Kumbaya” is a truly beautiful song, one of the best. It has a relatively rare quality in music: purity. You recognize this in an outstanding performance, such as one by Marilyn Horne. Try this recording. You may never hear “Kumbaya” the same way again, and you too may feel guilty, as I do, when using the word in a disparaging way.
Incidentally, the song “Come By Here”? That’s the same tune.