Show your support by purchasing VDARE.com merchandise. 
VDARE.com's Amazon connection has been restored! Remember to enter Amazon via the VDARE.com link and we get a commission on any purchases you make—at no cost to you!
My old Merrill Lynch friend Arch called me last week after he read my column about Michael Moore's new movie, Capitalism: A Love Story.
Arch told me the movie unintentionally gave his Manhattan investment banking pals a good laugh because the film is financed by Wall Street billionaires, supposedly Moore's targets.
Paramount Vantage, in association with the The Weinstein Company, produced Capitalism. What most casual movie goers don't know is that Paramount Vantage is controlled by Viacom, on whose Board of Directors sit Sumner Redstone and former Bear Stearns executive Ace Greenberg, two of the chief villains in the financial meltdown.
The newly formed Weinstein Company got its start thanks to a $490 million private placement, in which Goldman Sachs, another bad guy, acted as an advisor.
In a press release, a Goldman spokesman said:
"We
are very pleased to be a part of this exciting new venture and
look forward to an ongoing relationship with The Weinstein
Company."
Arch couldn't help but be taken aback, as I was, by Moore's effrontery—given the numerous associations his movie has with the very people he claims disgust with.
Then my conversation with Arch drifted to how someone with Moore's blue collar background could be so blind to the key role immigration plays in America's financial and economic collapse—by, among other things, robbing so many citizens of jobs.
During one of Capitalism's few touching scenes, Moore took his elderly father back to the site of a long-ago torn-down General Motors plant.
Both Moore's father and grandfather worked at GM. Although they never earned more than a union hourly wage, they were able to buy houses, take vacations and count on collecting their pensions when retirement rolled around.
Moore and his father briefly reminisced about how, at 2:00 PM every day, the family would drive down to the plant to bring Dad home in time for supper. In the mid-1960s, that was a typical middle-class American experience.
A few frames later, Moore was in Chicago, at the Republic Windows and Doors factory, which had just been shut down. The employees received three days notice and were told not to expect past monies owed them. [In Factory Sit-In, An Anger Spread Wide, by Monica Davey, New York Times, December 7, 2008]
The workers, who staged a sit-in and were accompanied by the reprehensible U.S. Rep. Luis Gutierrez, appeared to be mostly Spanish speaking. According to one account:
"There was another international aspect to this occupation as
well. The people working at the plant included blacks and whites
but were overwhelmingly Latino. They had ended up at Republic
after coming from Honduras, Costa Rica, Uruguay, El Salvador,
Mexico, Ecuador, Cuba and Puerto Rico."
Moore would have to be blind not to see the difference between his father's era and today's immigrant-dominated work force. (See the Republic Windows and Doors video Hasta la Victoria here.)
I'm certain that the displaced, struggling Americans in Moore's hometown of Flint would love to have had those Republic jobs. It's not far from Flint to Chicago. They would have moved.
And when and if the Republic jobs ended, they would have moved again—assuming they could find jobs that hadn't been taken already by immigrants.
My view: The answer to Arch's question about why Moore and the Hollywood elite don't get the problem with immigration—illegal and legal—is that their day-to-day experiences with immigrants are overwhelmingly positive.
Let's shift neighborhoods from burnt out Flint and Chicago's Southside to visit Beverly Hills, a part of California heavily populated with rich and famous moguls, with which I am familiar. (I'm a third-generation Californian and lived across the street from Beverly Hills High. Moore, by the way, lives in a plush upper West Side Manhattan apartment and owns a Michigan beach front vacation house.)
Most wealthy Southern California households have three immigrants working for them---the housekeeper, the pool man and the lawn guy.
Here are sketches of some I have known:
Teresa, housekeeper.
Born in Mexico and a U.S. citizen since the
1986
amnesty,
Teresa takes three buses (quite an achievement in Los Angeles)
to get to her Pacific Palisades job. Nevertheless, she's on time
and efficiently completes the few tasks asked of her. Teresa has
worked for the same family for nearly three decades. When the
patriarch died, Teresa took the same three buses to his funeral.
An American citizen thanks to the
245 (i)
program,
Pedro, a Honduras native, put this son through the
University of Southern California.
USC tuition rivals any
Ivy
League school.
This achievement was always praised by Pedro's employer as a
monument to hard work.
And, in a way, it was.
But if you earned exorbitant
pool
man rates,
you too could send your kid to any expensive American
university. (SOP: two weekly pool maintenance visits a week for
five minutes each, skim off a few leaves, drop some mystery
chemicals into the water and repeat the process at other houses
all day long. Invoice each client $300 a month, twelve months a
year. Pool man—the job we should all aspire to!)
Elderly, third generation
Japanese American
whose family had been
interned
during World War II.
To the upper crust, these three and other domestics like them
represent immigrants.
Besides their household staff, the beautiful people also
interact daily with another non-representative group of
immigrants: the Iranian store keeper, the Thai restauranteur,
and the
Vietnamese manicurist.
Naturally, the merchants are unfailingly gracious. How else
could they develop return business?
Finally, the
Los
Angeles Times
provides the jet set with their immigration news, distorted to
give the impression that immigrants are either universally
productive or consistently cruelly exploited.
Looking back over the decades I lived in
Los
Angeles, I
know only a few families who sent their children to
immigrant-dominated public schools
or went into the ethnic enclaves, except briefly to watch the
Los
Angeles Dodgers,
the
Trojans or
go to the hottest new off-beat Mexican restaurant.
Then they
got out
of Dodge as
fast as their Mercedes would take them.
Don't expect that Hollywood will ever develop a more realistic
picture of immigration, which would include the
criminal element,
overcrowded schools
and
drained
social services.
Think of it this way: If you (as the fashionable people do) only
interacted with the best that immigration brings to America and
at the same time avoided the immigrant
trouble
spots, you
wouldn't be reading
VDARE.COM
or urging Congress not to pass an amnesty.
Instead, you'd probably
advocate for more immigration.
That's how it is. The rich and famous only see the good. When
you ask them to
think
immigration through
more fully, they prefer to go to the
country
club.
Moore will never make a movie about
MS-13
or the
anchor
baby crisis.
The
wealthy
will never cross over to our side either. They won't for the
simple reason that they don't have to—except maybe, as
Peter
Brimelow
has
suggested,
when society itself starts to collapse.
Joe Guzzardi [email him] is a California native who recently fled the state because of over-immigration, over-population and a rapidly deteriorating quality of life. He has moved to Pittsburgh, PA where the air is clean and the growth rate stable. A long-time instructor in English at the Lodi Adult School, Guzzardi has been writing a weekly column since 1988. It currently appears in the Lodi News-Sentinel.