The wind is maddening and constant, and gets stronger as the sun falls under the horizon. The streets are lined with plastic and rubbish, the beaches covered with greasy bodies and sun beds, and ghastly music blasts away all day and night. Motor scooters without mufflers and cars choke the tiny roads leading to the center of town, where literally thousands of sunburned young people wearing expensive rags down tequilas with a ...

I met Donald Trump during the late "€™90s, at a grand party thrown by Lord Black for his wife's 60th birthday. It was in New York, Conrad Black was at the height of his power as a press lord, and his wife Barbara ditto, writing beautiful conservative stuff for major British and Canadian papers. I was seated next to Melania Trump, The Donald's third and present wife, and we hit it off extremely well. Our bête noir was that ...

Nestled under the Acropolis, snug and safe among the ancient ruins of a long-ago grandeur, Plaka remains the only protected area of Athens, with greedy developers as welcome as a certain Minnesota dentist at an Aspinall animal sanctuary. Not that many don’t try. I see signs on old and battered but beautifully classical houses asking for bids “to develop.” No harm in trying, I guess. With the economy in the toilet—horrid ...

The newspaper that prints only what fits its piously fraudulent agenda, The New York Times, has reviewed a book by one Ta-Nehisi Coates twice, both times showering it with praise that would make a Hollywood name-dropper blush. A biweekly that mostly reports on food and gay porn, New York  magazine, put the scribe on the cover, and the author has been lionized like no other since, I suppose, Victor Hugo back in the old ...

We all agree that a world without manners would make this a pretty grim place to live in. Offensive informality is pretty much accepted nowadays, and manners are at times seen as a superficial activity. But good manners are as much a part of our culture as great books, great paintings, and great classical music. Occasionally, of course, one can carry good manners too far. My friend Timmy, a gent and a gem of a man, has ...

I think back to my Greek childhood and longing for the once coziest and most romantic of cities overwhelms me. Actually it’s too painful to think back, all the blood spilled during the Communist uprising, the beautiful neoclassical buildings destroyed by greed and lack of talent, the impeccable manners of the people that showed respect for the elderly, the church, and the nation. They all went with the wind, that horrible ...

I have signed an affidavit for a hearing this week in the High Court stating that Janan Harb was to my knowledge married to Fahd of Saudi Arabia, who later became head of that ghastly country until he ate himself to death. Abdul Aziz, Fahd’s youngest son, a fat playboy who drifts around the world with an entourage of 150 bootlickers, is challenging Janan’s claims, and in the immortal words of Mandy Rice-Davies, “He would, ...

There is an English writer who is going around telling all and sundry that I made a pass at his wife. Now, Englishmen are known not to get too excited about such matters, but in this case the man is simply showing off. I can"€™t for the life of me think what else this is all about, because I have never met his wife, or if I have, I have certainly never made the slightest pass at her. Although this is not very gallant on my ...

If the government of a country was being threatened by a larger neighboring nation with invasion, and held a referendum whether to fight or give in, and its people voted to fight, but then the government not only gave in but stripped its army of weapons and welcomed the invaders, the government would be called collaborators and eventually put on the dock for high treason. This is exactly what the Syriza gang has just done to ...

Wow, what a week. London may be bad for one’s health, but it sure makes it fun on the way to where we’re all going. I’m determined not to mention Greece—too much has been written about my poor country, most of it quite nice—so I will stick to London in general and The Spectator in particular. It began with a nostalgic party for about 28 of us chez George and Lita Livanos, childhood friends, in their treasure-filled ...

Back in the good old days of 2,500 years ago, the Greeks blamed the gods for their self-induced disasters. In modern times the Brits were to blame and then the Americans. Now it's the Germans. Modern Greeks are not renowned for introspection. Others are always responsible. We brag about inventing democracy"€”however selective"€”and also about inventing tragedy, as in Aeschlyus and Euripides, but don"€™t dwell at all on ...

Tempus sure fugit, and how. Twenty years ago today, Thursday, July 2, 1995, monarchs from around the world descended on London for the wedding of Greek Crown Prince Pavlos to Marie-Chantal, daughter of the duty-free magnate Bob Miller. I remember it well, especially the hangover. Never have I seen so many royals under one roof. The Greeks had treated King Constantine, father of the groom, very badly, managing to convince the ...

For those who like to see their name in print, the Hiltons and Kardashians of this world, make sure that when the man in the white suit visits you, you"€™re the only one he's dropping in on. In fact, even if the white-suited gent visits you within a day or two of having called upon someone more famous, your goose is cooked. Newspapers, television, radio, and the horrid Internet have become so celebrity-minded, the demise of ...

Last Wednesday, June 24, Pugs held a luncheon in honor of our first member to depart for the Elysian Fields, or that large CinemaScope screen up above, Sir Christopher Lee, age 93. Pugs club is now back to 19 members, the ceiling being 21. Our president for life, Nick Scott—I actually was the first chief but was overthrown in a bloodless as well as voteless coup by Nick—gave a wonderful address while breaking yet another ...

When I founded The American Conservative magazine 13 years ago–the purpose being to shine a light on neocon shenanigans that led to the greatest American foreign-policy disaster ever—Pat Buchanan and I held a press conference in the Washington, D.C., press club to herald the event. There were reporters galore, and by their looks I knew it wasn’t going to be a friendly session. Buchanan went first and held his own. Then ...

Back in the good old days, when Ike and Mamie lived in the White House"€”and the neocons were an ugly bunch of short bald people meeting in New York dumps discussing the greatness of Leon Trotsky"€”summertime spelled freedom and fun, at least for this poor little Greek boy. Ironically, summers lasted longer back then. From the beginning of June, when the boarding-school jail term ended, until September, when the inmates had ...