Eugene Robinson rants against Arizona’s new anti-illegal immigration law in today’s Washington Post. The most polite thing ‘Puter can say about Mr. Robinson’s argument is that it betrays a schizophrenia on the issue.
You see, Arizona is “racist, arbitrary, oppressive, mean-spirited, [and] unjust” for requiring its peace officers to enforce federal law at the state level. Mr. Robinson conveniently omits from his initial critique that Arizona’s law is a direct result of federal inaction. Thank goodness we have Rich Lowry writing in today’s New York Post to provide sufficient context to set the record straight.
Contrary to Mr. Robinson’s assertions, Arizona authorities will not be conducting Gestapo-like midnight raids on innocent victims. The Arizona statute requires that there be a “lawful contact” with the person, and that the officer have a “reasonable suspicion” of that person’s illegal presence in the United States. This is hardly onerous. First, legal immigrants are already required to carry on their person proof of their legal status at all times. Second, cops have to have lawful contact with the person to be searched, such as a traffic stop or arrest. Third, cops must have reasonable suspicion that the person is present illegally, such as the person speaks no English and cannot produce identification on demand.
Mr. Robinson goes on to admit that Arizona is correct. Federal refusal to enforce immigration laws have forced border states to bear unsustainable burdens. See, e.g., 460,000 illegals currently in the state, skyrocketing crime associated with illegals, higher taxes to support illegals, etc. It’s just that deporting illegals is, well, mean. What Mr. Robinson seems to want is open borders, with individuals coming and going (or staying) as they please. Oh, Mr. Robinson will deny this, but that’s where his argument inexorably leads. Not defending our border + refusing to determine immigration status = open borders.
Mr. Robinson then recognizes Arizona’s need to protect itself, but refuses to reach the logical conclusion. Federal authorities must enforce the immigration laws on the books, or stand aside when states seek to do the same. And if the federal government for whatever reason is going to ignore current immigration law, then Congress should at least be honest and repeal the laws altogether.
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.