Biden's Angry Snap at Reporters Reminds Me of Barry Farber's Rapier Wit

Barry knew just how to put the lie to Biden's claim of expertise about Bosnia

In yesterday’s post, I mentioned my dear friend, the late Barry Farber; I also supplied a link to the remembrance of Barry I wrote for World Net Daily (but I should know better than to expect anyone to click on it; hardly anybody even clicks on “Like”).

[This photo of Barry Farber at about age 50 was on the mantelpiece

at Barry & Sara’s apartment at The Apthorp.]

This morning I had occasion to think of Barry again, when I saw and heard about Joe Biden’s angry and bitter outburst yesterday to reporters. He told them, “I know more world leaders than any one of you have ever met in your whole goddamn life!”

[The compulsive proofreader in me notes that he should have said “…than any one of you has ever met…”].

In case you missed it, you can watch it here:

https://www.instagram.com/ksok.lower48/reel/DEdyNM1yK1U/

Now, I understand only too well what it’s like to be an angry, bitter old man. I’m angry and bitter right now as I write this, about any number of things, not the least of which is that I’m still in fear of freezing to death in my own house, only now it’s after having shelled out a couple of thousand dollars to have a newer, more efficient furnace installed.

[Again: ‘Too personal? ‘Too bad!]

And so I know what it’s like to be an angry, bitter old man who can be a real asshole. But I’d have to work a lot harder at it to ever be the angry, bitter old frothing-at-the-mouth asshole that Joe Biden is!

I was reminded of Barry Farber because of a remark that Barry had made to me in 2016, in response to hearing how Joe Biden, while vying for the Democrat nomination, had bragged of his great expertise about Bosnia.

Like so much that comes from Biden’s lips (like his claim that he was arrested while trying to visit Nelson Mandela on Robben Island, or his claim that his first wife had been killed by a drunk driver, or far too many other falsehoods to list them all here) it was Bravo Sierra, and Barry knew it. His remark skewered Biden’s claim in a way that was a classic Farberism.

I quoted Barry’s remark in the Talkers Magazine video tribute to Barry. You can watch the entire (almost 1 1/2 hour) tribute here, or you can advance to my appearance at about the 45 second mark; I did not at the time identify Biden as the politician in question, but it was definitely Joe Biden.

When Barry Farber met a world leader, he spoke to that leader in the leader’s native language; Barry spoke some two dozen languages. And I have no doubt that Barry’s claim to greater expertise about Bosnia than Joe Biden’s was more than an idle boast.

Having been a Russian language translator for the U.S. Army, I’m sure he spoke Russian when he had cocktails with Soviet leader and diplomat Vyacheslav Molotov, hence the title of Barry’s book “Cocktails with Molotov.”

‘Get it? Most people know the name Molotov from the Molotov cocktail, which is not a cocktail at all and was not invented by Molotov.

It’s a sardonic term, in the way that a Tennessee toothpick is not a toothpick, Georgia (or Mexican) overdrive is not overdrive, a New York minute is not a minute (it’s a nano-second) and a Portuguese man-o-war is not a battleship. Similarly, if you’re from Seattle [this is a pretty inside reference], a Ballard Stetson is not a Stetson; it’s a derisively mocking expression for what passes for a Stetson in Ballard. You can look up Portuguese man-o-war and find nothing about its origin, but I believe it’s a term coined by (British?) sailors to disparage the Portuguese Navy.

So a Molotov cocktail is not a drink, but an improvised gasoline bomb, often associated with civilians battling against tanks, as in the Hungarian Revolution of 1956 (Barry Farber was there!) or used by arsonists. Molotov had nothing to do with it, except that the Finns named it after him during their Winter War with the Soviets in 1939-1940. The Soviets extensively air-bombed the Finns, but Molotov claimed that Soviet planes were merely dropping food supplies, causing the Finns to call the air-bombs Molotov bread baskets. And when they used improvised incendiaries against Soviet tanks, they called the devices Molotov cocktails.

Molotov is said to have been the only person to have shaken hands with Lenin, Stalin, Churchill, FDR, Hitler, Hess, Göring and Himmler. Add to that list a Jewish guy who grew up in Greensboro, North Carolina and became an icon of talk radio, Barry Farber.

ST

Addendum: I know about Vyacheslav Molotov largely because of Barry Farber, who spoke and wrote about him. I know about the Winter War because of Barry Farber, who often told tales about that war and how “Stalin thrust his army against Finland” and how the Finns, “with a population half that of Chicago, repelled Moscow’s attacks for three months” and “made the Soviets the laughingstock of the world while elevating tiny Finland to instant legendary fame.”

And my opinion of Joe Biden is colored by that of Barry Farber. I remember a column Barry wrote in 2019 that started out about the town of his birth, Baltimore, and contained the following [and if you perceive a similarity between Barry’s literary “voice” and mine, it’s because he greatly influenced the way I tell a story, and because I edited the column!]:

In the summer between high school and college I got a job at the Bethlehem steel mill at Sparrow’s Point. As I walked out of the Maryland Motor Vehicles Office I spotted a sign over a house that read “Norwegian Seaman’s Home.”

In my other hometown of Greensboro, North Carolina, every boy’s dream was to work your way across the ocean. So I knocked on that door and shortly found myself the proudest messboy in King Hakan of Norway's Merchant Marine, carrying codfish from Norway to Cuba, and later, through a scholarship at the University of Oslo, followed by marriage to a marvelous Swedish woman, lived happily ever after as a de facto dual citizen of both America and Norway. Thank you, Baltimore!

But every time lately that I’ve thought of Baltimore, I think of Joe Biden. Now, Why? Joe Biden’s cardinal claim to the Democratic nomination resides in his having served eight years as Vice President. And it was my good ol’ hometown of Baltimore that put the office of Vice President exactly where it belongs.

President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s first running mate was John Nance Garner of Texas, known as "Cactus Jack,” who famously said, “The job of Vice President isn’t worth a pitcher of warm spit!” Many suspected it. Many said it. Baltimore proved it!

There's a story, from the 1920's, told about Calvin Coolidge when he was Vice President under Warren G. Harding. He'd taken the train from Washington to Baltimore to attend a meeting. He returned to his hotel to find a chaotic scene, with the lobby filled with Baltimore's finest policemen and firefighters.

There had been a fire -- no big deal, but the stairs to his room were blocked by police barriers. Ducking under the barriers, the Vice President started up the winding staircase to his room. The Fire Chief saw this brazen figure attempting to go upstairs and shouted, "Hey, You! Where do you think you're going?"

The Vice President replied, "I'm going up to my room to check on my belongings," and took a few steps before the Fire Chief yelled again, "And just who do you think you are?” Whereupon Coolidge, only slightly irritated at this point, turned around, stared at the Fire Chief and said, "I am the Vice President!"

He then turned and ascended a few more steps before the Fire Chief challenged him again. "Wait just a minute!" said the Fire Chief. "You're the Vice President of what?"

At this point thoroughly miffed, Coolidge raised his voice and proclaimed, "I am the Vice President of the United States of America!"

Whereupon the Fire Chief said, "Then get the hell back down here! I thought you were the Vice President of the hotel!"