First Door on the Left

That there are actually people out there who believe stuff like this makes me very, very sad (and downright scared)…

There are countless numbers of anti-war zealots on the American Left rooting for failure. They believe the worst about the troops. They’ve blindly embraced frauds who’ve lied about their military service and lied about wartime atrocities. They’ve allied themselves with socialist kooks and coddled murderous dictators. They are looking for any excuse to pull out, abandon military operations and reconstruction, and impeach the president.

They insist on giving suspected foreign terrorists more benefit of the doubt than our own men and women in uniform.

Hate mongering. Pure and simple.

I don’t know quite what to make of this guy…

An old struggle to adapt to a new country’s ways

Joseph Vento

How do you say cheesesteak with in Spanish?

Joseph Vento, the owner of Geno’s Steaks, doesn’t know. And he doesn’t care.

Just read the laminated signs, festooned with American eagles, at his South Philadelphia cheesesteak emporium: This is America. When Ordering, Speak English.

Vento’s political statement – from a man whose Italian-born grandparents spoke only broken English – captures the anger and discontent felt by many Americans about illegal immigrants.

With a battle looming between the House and Senate on legalizing some immigration violators, the public backlash is framed by two complaints:

One, my grandparents came legally. How come these guys can’t? And, two, my grandparents had to learn English. How come these guys don’t?

Okay… One, when your grandparents came here, it was a lot easier to enter this country legally. They weren’t faced with the quotas we have today. And, two, your grandparents did not learn English overnight. English is one of the most difficult languages to learn. It takes time.

Geno’s sits at Ninth and Passyunk, the hub of Little Italy turned home to thousands of Mexicans.

Some try to order a cheesesteak. And it bugs Vento if they can’t ask for American cheese, provolone or the classic – Cheez Whiz – without pointing.

“If you can’t tell me what you want, I can’t serve you,” he said. “It’s up to you. If you can’t read, if you can’t say the word cheese, how can I communicate with you – and why should I have to bend?

“I got a business to run.”

Vento, who lives in Shamong, put up the signs when the immigration debate seized national headlines six months ago.

This guy strikes me as the kind of person who would travel overseas and demand that everyone cater to him in English. He is very likely part of the reason Americans aren’t so popular and welcome in the rest of the world right now (George W. Bush’s screwed up foreign policy and xenophobia being the biggest reason).

I have very little patience with people who have no tolerance for people who are different from them. I guess that’s one of the reasons I am not a Republican.

Mr. Vento is, of course, one of Michelle Malkin‘s heroes. You know for a certainty that Ms. Malkin’s forebears came to this country already speaking English.