Watching the debate between Heather Mac Donald and Edward Stringham was a fascinating experience for a number of reasons, foremost among them being that it presented two deeply contrasting visions of right wing thought. The former shaped by a deep reverence for social cohesion and ordered liberty, while the latter is influenced by a deeply-held anti-authoritarianism and faith in an unencumbered free market. The point of dispute was criminal justice reform, which was framed by the debate resolution, “There’s a war on cops, and it’s making us less safe.” Mac Donald, naturally, responded in the affirmative, asserting that the most horrific outbursts of violence directed against law enforcement, e.g. last year’s sniper attacks against Dallas police officers, as well as the 2014 ambush of NYPD officers, were a direct result of a deliberate campaign to demonize law enforcement by public officials and political activists. Stringham rejected that claim, asserting that civilians are at much more risk of being killed by police officers than vice versa.

Both perspectives were bolstered by statistics, although Mac Donald also emphasized the human cost of what she perceives to be a lack of faith in the police, including some horrific anecdotes from Chiraq. Stringham decried her “appeal to emotion,” and expressed his belief that his debate opponent doesn’t understand basic statistics, repeatedly hammering home the fact that we are experiencing historically low rates of violent crime and gun crime. He described how data fluctuates, which means you can’t ‘make inferences based on 2 data points,’ i.e. the national and local spikes in violent crime we witnessed in 2015. He asked Mac Donald why it took so long for homicides to increase in New York City, despite a 5 year-long decrease in the number of stops under its stop-and-frisk program-reaching a low of 22,929 in 2015-and why crime in almost every other measurable category continued to decline.

Mac Donald was asked whether her role was to serve as an advocate for the criminal justice system, to which she responded, “no, it’s to combat false narratives.” One of those misleading narratives-and it was this ground upon which I think she was on her firmest footing-is the Black Lives Matter campaign to convince ordinary people that black people are subjected to uniquely unfair treatment at the hands of systemically racist law enforcement. As she pointed out, whites are shot disproportionately during violent encounters with police-she didn’t mention Native Americans, who are killed at a per capita rate exceeding every other ethnic group in this country-when you consider the paltry rate at which they commit violent crime in comparison to other races. Even so, the public knows virtually none of their names, even those who are killed at point blank range, like the late David Kassick. By contrast, black civilians who are killed unjustly at the hands of police are the subject of critically acclaimed films, not to mention being the inspiration for conflagrations which engulf entire cities.

Although Stringham maintained that the racial component of this debate was irrelevant, while asserting that police should not be taxing citizens under the color of law-as many claim was the case in Ferguson, Missouri-his opponent insisted upon pointing out the inherent racial disparities of an purportedly underpoliced society, e.g. blacks dying at a rate 6 times that of whites, as well as the 4,300 people shot in the city of Chicago last year. For what it’s worth, I wish he had acknowledged this aspect of the debate, i.e. that many Americans, whether they’re residents of the Ingersoll or Marlboro Houses, or Camden, New Jersey, live in a very violent and insecure world, even as Americans are generally safer than they have been in generations. A belief that there is a divide along racial lines is perfectly consonant with an opposition to needlessly intrusive, aggressive policing. In fact, the solution to this problem might have been alluded to by an audience member, who asked whether more shall-issue laws might be responsible for a decrease in violent crime.

Stringham also pointed out the efficacy of private police forces, which-unlike law enforcement under our current system-are directly accountable to the public. Unlike cops in the public sector, who often view themselves as fee collectors/enforcers for the state-police within a consensual system actually have incentives to serve their customers, i.e. the public, and not to abuse their authority. Although Mac Donald expressed qualified skepticism about this arrangement, it’s worth noting that there were once entire societies which operated largely within the parameters of private law. Whether or not this is an applicable model in the case of the United States is an open question, although it’s a question which deserves to be asked. After all, if the exorbitant black crime rate is entwined with the familial and social breakdown in black communities, then who is to say that increasingly aggressive policing is the long term solution to this problem?

The man you see (indistinctly) in the photo above is Manhattan District Attorney Cyrus Vance Jr., who spoke before a packed crowd at the Women’s National Republican Club last night on a variety of subjects. Although the invitation I responded to billed the evening as a discussion of sanctuary cities, Vance did not address the topic until prompted by an audience member during the question and answer session, approximately 40 minutes or so after he began speaking.

I can’t say I was surprised by his reluctance to address the subject, despite its topicality. The New York County District Attorney’s office is charged with the prosecution of those who violate the laws of New York State. Those who violate federal law are prosecuted by the U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York-a point Mr. Vance emphasized when I pressed him on a recent decision to release a violent, self-declared member of MS-13 who was in this country illegally from prison.

That said, his office does occasionally come into contact with illegal immigrants through their encounters with the New York Police Department, which he implicitly acknowledged when he spoke of protecting the status of those who had been victims of crimes while residing in this country illegally. Putting aside the circular logic of this argument, i.e. aren’t predatory criminal aliens, such as the illegal day laborer who murdered acclaimed actress and director Adrienne Shelly, protected under the same umbrella sheltering domestic abuse victims, there is another objection to be raised. Namely, there is already a federal program, known as the U Visa, which ostensibly protects these individuals.

The idea that New York City needs to codify policy which directly conflicts with federal law in order to protect the safety of those in this country illegally is the height of absurdity. To the contrary, these directives actually imperil the lives and safety of those they ostensibly seek to protect-as well as the lives of American citizens-as those criminal aliens who abuse and terrorize their partners and children are given blanket immunity for crimes which would otherwise place them in the deportation pipeline and out of the reach of those whose lives they have destroyed. In fact, after Mr. Vance’s talk had concluded, a (legal) immigrant shared a personal anecdote with me about a hairdresser whose husband had attempted to suffocate her to death, but was allowed to remain in this country-illegally, naturally-even after being brought to the attention of the relevant authorities.

It should be said in Mr. Vance’s defense that he stated categorically that illegal aliens who had committed violent crimes should be deported, which is a far cry from Mayor De Blasio’s stance. However, it’s worth noting that the Manhattan DA is a political post, which is dependent upon the will of the voters, which in this case happened to be a group of New York Republicans. Just as his avowal of support for stop and frisk might have been downplayed before more progressive venues, it’s possible that he might have temporized even more on this subject if speaking to a group like the National Council of La Raza, or the Black, Puerto Rican, Hispanic & Asian Legislative Caucus.

Overall, the audience was surprisingly receptive to DA Vance’s message, which in retrospect probably shouldn’t have been that surprising. The Republican Party of New York City, but particularly the desiccated husk of a party which still exists in Manhattan, is run primarily by the Rockefeller and Lindsay Republicans who once exercised real power in this city and state. Adele Malpass, who delivered some introductory remarks before Cyrus Vance stepped up to the podium, praised the District Attorney’s efforts to kill a bill which would have prevented the arrest of innocent New Yorkers carrying gravity knives. I’m sure the GOP mainstay who asked him later in the evening what he was doing to crack down on gun dealers appreciated this bold stance against individual rights, but I was left rather unimpressed.

For what it’s worth, I thought the event was worthwhile, despite my many disagreements with Mr. Vance, including his apparent belief that compulsory voting, along the lines of Australia, could serve as a civic inducement. Having a public official willing to submit himself to cross-examination, however circumscribed, by the public is increasingly rare and worthy of praise. Hopefully, the officials responsible for some of the problems we encounter in this city on a daily basis will embrace this willingness to engage the public, but I won’t be holding my breath.

One of the benefits of living in New York City-a place which often feels like it was expressly designed to discourage your presence-is the seemingly endless opportunities to see amazing, live music acts. Just within the past decade I’ve had the chance to watch the New York Festival Orchestra perform a remarkable tribute to the victims of the 2011 Japanese earthquake, meet the Bangles at the Highline Ballroom, see a remarkable chamber orchestra at Lincoln Center, and attend concerts by groups and individual artists like Hello Seahorse, They Might Be Giants, Dramarama, Stevie Wonder, Los Lobos, Big Daddy Kane, Bad Religion, Beth Orton, and the Kronos Quartet. And, had I been able to, I would have seen the Pixies. All of these musicians-with a single exception-I watched perform without paying a cent.

Last night afforded me a similar opportunity, this time to watch ’80s icon Gary Numan perform Telekon in its entirety at Gramercy Theatre. Although his first two nights received mixed reviews, with the exception of one major cockup towards the end of his set the performance I took in was largely flawless from a technical standpoint. One of my takeaways from the concert was the extent to which it was an exhibition of technical prowess, which probably shouldn’t have been surprising coming from one of the pioneers of synth pop. His virtuosic employment of sound was something that I haven’t encountered among rock performers in my experience, and can only be compared to some classical musicians I’ve seen.

The use of lights, particularly their synchronization with his music, definitely enhanced the atmospherics of the evening. Even something as seemingly trivial as the merch booth highlight the importance of aesthetics to Gary Numan. From the t-shirts, to the tote bags, to the cover art of his vinyl records, the stylistic precision and uniqueness was striking. Not that these details are inconsequential to other musicians, but they seemed to be a reflection of his priorities as an artist. Not having any familiarity with his work-with the exception of his most famous single-this concert was an illuminating experience in many ways, but the visual nature of his peformance was something that stood out for me.

That said, I can’t honestly declare myself converted to Numan fandom. Or, as I call it, Numandom. Like Prince, I have an appreciation for his immense musical talent, skill, and workmanship, but for me music is an emotive, not intellectual, experience. It moves you on a gut level, providing catharsis of some kind. I never experienced that feeling over the course of my 2 hours at the Gramercy Theatre, even as I  developed a deeper appreciation for an artist whom I’d had only the vaguest impression of before this week.  For what it’s worth, one of my favorite artists-whose music probably moves me more than any other-is Joe Jackson, so I don’t think my reaction is born of a generational divide or a categorical hatred of ’80s/new wave. So in the final analysis, I have to give Gary Numan and his backing band credit for being extremely good musicians, who have inspired countless fans both here and throughout the globe.

Music is a universal language, but there are millions of dialects, most of which we’ll never become fluent in. I think Gary Numan falls under that category, unfortunately.

Even as Officer Kenneth Healey recuperates from one of  the more recent jihadist assaults to take place in the United States, the inquisitors of the unreconstructed left and their  Islamic brethren continue their crusade, for lack of a better word, to silence any and all constructive criticism of the religion of peace. From the demands that liberal critic of Islamic misogyny and terrorism Bill Maher be muzzled, to the ongoing collective delusion that these outbursts of murderous rage are not Koranically-inspired, the mandarins of elite opinion refuse to acknowledge reality.

That is why the views of our good friend Pat Condell are so refreshing and, in these times, necessary. He reminds us of the power of one man calmly and rationally speaking the truth.

Chen, 47, was charged with murder, stalking, weapons possession and tampering with physical evidence. An undocumented Chinese immigrant, Chen had been tormenting Wu for years, apparently because the employment agency she ran with her husband couldn’t find him work…

After he choked and punched Wu in 2006, he was sent to El Paso, Tex., for deportation proceedings. Instead of throwing Chen out of the country, U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement put him on supervised release, a source said.

Would this undocumented vivisectionist have been eligible for President Obama’s amnesty-had it been enacted during the last session of Congress? Something tells me that Americans wouldn’t like the answer to that question.

The scene:

Near midnight, January. Wednesday.

Times Square, NYC. One of the world’s busiest crossways. A fresh blanket of heavy, wet, billowing snow across the most populous city in the U.S. Even though we are muffled and layered, furred and gloved, booted and hatted, the wind whips compact particles of ice and stinging snow into our faces at a curt clip. The temperature is below freezing. Even a few minutes out in the unending white slathers our clothing with an inch-deep packing of rime, like crusty shaving cream, only less creamy. Heads hunch into wool, down and fur collars, and the thoughtful brace themselves against the fluffy cold onslaught with sturdy umbrellas. We have no brollies, and press on.

Dramatis personae: My companion and myself.

The buses are running slow as retired slugs, and the train is too far in the deep crunch, and it’s late, so the schedule is sparser than it runs all day. Even as the global warming is ankle-deep hard slogging already, we decide to walk the mile and a half uptown to our respective homes. Maybe catch a slice at the all-night pizza right near his apartment.

We pass in front of the AMC movie theatre on 42^nd and 8^th, hard by the glimmering, somber New York Times building, one block south, and across the street from the often hive-busy Port Authority. Even with the 19^th century daguerrotype-look of tonight’s diorama, this is a happening and vibrant part of the city. Not any kind of backwoods culvert.

We notice a knot of men dressed all in black. They are outfitted in full Kevlar regalia, their clothing tight to their fit forms, with black half face-masks covering their noses, chins and lips. They have full black, big machine guns, which are not resting by their sides in a relaxed stance. The weapons are held at the ready. The frogmen-like special forces eye everyone who passes. Look up, scan down, watch warily.

It’s New York, in the middle of the arctic night, but this is, after all, Hollywood East—are they actors, hired to promote a new flick? We’re pretty savvy, but it’s the presence of these military in gear that spells Trouble, and which stops us in our tracks.

“Are you guys real? Or…maybe actors? Are you promoting something?” I ask, my usual reticence and shy Ms. Demeanor not fretting during the usual doh-si-doh indulged in by citizens when faced with constabulary of any kind. Aren’t most people discreetly guilty until relieved as business as usual restores itself?

One guy graciously speaks to me from behind his face-mask. “We’re real.” He holds the firearm at an angle, skywards, but not at rest. He does not stop panning the street with his eyes as we speak. His fingers lightly stroke the long black gun.

“Why are you here?” I pursue, baffled. I am well aware that the Big Apple is in major debt in the multi-billions, and these men–who, I notice, are up and down the street—do not come cheap. Actually, this is the first time I have seen such military troop-type men on the street since 2001.

“Uh, you know,” says the tall military guy with a huge black rifle and the restless eyes. “Um, 9-11…”

I am taken aback. “Do you mean there was some kind of alert–you’re here in response to some kind of…current intelligence?” I am not being charming. No need to worry about this woman. She’s not wearing a mask, she’s smiling, and she’s being just, you know, charming as all get-out. She’s in a long mink, and a funky hat, now entirely white.

He nods. Yep.

The other Kevlar’ed men nearby also nod, watching me, my companion, and the street, as the snow swirls down and the wind buffets us all with flurries and flakes of ice and snow.

It’s not by accident these men in their serious gear are here, this late, this cold, in this area. With our mental calculators ever more sharply attuned to the grimace of imminent city bankruptcy, the reality of a threat this impending, this live, is a sudden concussive realization. They know something the mayor has not announced to the residents of the city. People can go about their usual business, unaware of the evident risk these men have been told about. I listen to two or three radio news shows all day, keep my BlackBerry on my desk, and my TV is on news—yet have heard nothing about this threat.

But the threat is right here. Men in black dotting our wide white streets. Men with no-BS weapons. Pretty much aiming at anything untoward.

Net-net takeaway: They wouldn’t be here if there was nothing to worry about.

marion ds dreyfus               .    .    .         20©11