The Giuliani campaign reminds me of the Japanese Empire towards the middle of 1945: One disaster after another.  Let’s see. The Tokyo fire bombing took out 150,000 civilians and burnt most of the city; then came the loss of Okinawa, Hiroshima, Nagasaki—and to top all that off the Soviet Union declared war on the emperor. It might be stretching it a bit, but just look at Rudy’s situation. He has Norman Podhoretz, a Genghis Khan-like warrior (as long as his son, Four Pizzas John, does not have to do any of the fighting) as his main foreign policy advisor. Daniel Pipes, straight out of Doctor Strangelove, is another Samurai itching to bomb. Martin Kramer, a so called conservative blogger, playing Sergeant York, and Robert Kasten, a former U.S. senator who thinks he’s Audie Murphy. And now David Frum. Yes, dear readers, the man who called paleoconservatives such as myself and Pat Buchanan cowards and “unpatriotic” Americans, has just been appointed a Giuliani advisor on how to bomb and alienate people.

Frum is a hell of a fellow. The son of a rich Canadian carpet seller, he has been known to tell the kind of whoppers which would shock even Baron Munchhausen, but it’s the fact that his mother once handed him a typewriter that makes it a shocking case of child abuse. Frum once wrote that I made a pass at his wife. Of course I did—and George Patton peed in his pants before the invasion of Sicily. Someone should have a word with Rudy. He is not dealing with Mafiosi, and the world is a far more complex place than the Bronx. The sofa Samurais he has assembled talk a good fight, but they have an agenda of their own, and it has nothing to do with the well being of this country. He is hardly going to keep America safe with the smiling wallet lifters he has surrounded himself with.