The Horowitz Strikes Again
The scene between the ghost of Ethel Rosenberg and the dying Cohn has to be one of the most sophomoric episodes in the history of the theater, an excerise in puerile one-upmanship that illuminates nothing. The Republican-bashing politics that pepper the script are merely embarrassing and show that Bushphobia was preceded by the left's general hatred of anyone not like them and was just as unappetizing. The Tonys and Pulitzers and other liberal accolades for this trashy agit-prop reveal a progressive culture that is abysmally lacking in the basic stuff of art -- empathy and understanding. It is a culture generally at the end of its tether. Why should this be so? Perhaps because -- true to its intolerant, mean-spirited nature in the hour of its decline -- it has driven everyone who disagrees with it from the stage it controls -- and consequently speaks only to itself.
The indispensible David Horowitz blasting Tony "Waste of Protoplasm" Kushner out of the water. Horowitz does it much better then I ever could, of course, but having been forced to sit through one of Mr. Kushner's rancid lie-fests I can't help loving every time that Hitlerian dwarf gets taken down.
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