Russian Bookstores Zhirinovskied

Some Russian bookstores around town are caught selling anti-semitic literature. How charming:

Maybe it was all the rabbis gathered out front, but Vladimir Trainin looked downright panicked yesterday morning as he ran out of his Russian bookstore on Brighton Beach Avenue and worked his way toward the trash can by the street. The crowd of people outside his store, which sells imported Russian books and movies to local immigrants, had shown up to protest the anti-Semitic Russian literature in Mr. Trainin’s history section — literature Mr. Trainin swore he did not know his store had been carrying as he demonstratively placed a copy of “The Jewish Question in Russia” by Oleg Platonov into the garbage.

Platonov’s book, which claims “Jews do everything in their power to undermine Orthodox Russia and destroy the Russian church,”according to a translation, is just one of many anti-Semitic books that Assemblyman Dov Hikind, who organized yesterday’s event in Brighton Beach, has asked Russian stores to stop selling.

“These books poison the minds of people,” Mr. Hikind said at yesterday’s gathering, which attracted a priest, a number of local rabbis, Councilman Michael Nelson, and a camerawoman from the Russian Television Network. But it was no joke — the books Mr. Hikind had on display were unambiguously anti-Semitic and readily available for only $5 or $6.

In addition to “The Jewish Question,” titles included “What We Don’t Like About Them,” “Why America is Dying,” “The Myths and Truths of Jewish Pogroms,” and “Jewish Society Coup.” “Why America Is Dying,” according to a statement from Mr. Hikind’s office, “declares that at the very base of American psychology lies the Talmudic principles of greed, with the right to rob and kill all others to acquire land and possessions.”

In an interview, Mr. Hikind said he sent letters to a number of bookstores in Brooklyn and Queens asking owners to remove the books from their shelves. Although none of them has responded, at least two — Mr. Trainin’s store, Mosvideofilm, and the nearby RBC — have already gotten rid of the offending material.

“Everything is put into garbage,” Mr. Trainin said.”I am a Jew! I am upset by these books.”

Mr. Trainin said all his books are shipped to him by a Russian distributor, and he had no idea they were anti-Semitic until the group of critics arrived at his door yesterday morning (he said he had not received Mr. Hikind’s letter). Mr. Trainin said he would throw away all the anti-Semitic books he could find in his store — Mr. Hikind said there were more than 20 — starting with Platonov’s. After initially throwing the book into the trash himself, Mr.Trainin noticed a photographer and decided to let a nearby elderly Russian woman do the honors.

Then again, the purge generated a slight problem — now there is no more Russian history:

Mr. Hikind went into Mosvideofilm after Mr. Trainin made his announcement to make sure the books were gone. “There is nothing left!” he confirmed, pointing towards a large gap in the history section.

(Now that’s ironic . . .)

Remind Us Again Why We Care?

The Brooklyn Paper’s Gersh Kuntzman explains that the controversy behind Takeru Kobayashi’s record-setting hot dog scarfing is much ado about nothing — and, as Kobayashi’s official judge, he knows of what he speaks (warning: do not read within four hours of eating):

For the past six years, I have served as Kobayashi’s judge and, as such, have had a spittle-and-bun-covered front-row seat to history. Over those six years, I’ve had a chance to watch the greatest athlete in modern history crush all comers. For five of those years, Kobayashi’s closest competitor didn’t even come within a dozen hot dogs and buns (HDBs in competitive eating circles).

I may think Kobayashi is the greatest competitor since Secretariat, but I’m no pushover. In 2001, when this calf-brain-eating champion from Japan burst onto the American scene with his amazing 50 HDB victory, I made him stuff a quarter hot-dog back into his mouth when it fell onto the table. In 2003, I noticed he was dunking his buns into his cup of water more than usual, so I made him slurp up the water-logged carbs. And last year, when a sneeze late in the competition sent a stream of chewed-up hot-dog out his nose, I made him snort it back in.

That he did it without flinching, without questioning, showed what a true champion he is.

Controversy is as inseparable from the competition to be greatest eater in the world as hot dog is from bun. But with 10,000 spectators packing the corner of Surf and Stillwell avenues — and with almost as many camera crews from New York, San Jose and Japan on hand — I knew I had to be at the top of my game.

I watched Kobayashi like a mother cow watching her calf’s brain. He ate his game — not worrying, even when Chestnut jumped out to a two-dog lead. He passed Chestnut for good around the nine-minute mark, but I watched with even greater intensity, knowing that this was the only time Kobayashi had ever been pushed.

And then, the belch.

Yes, Kobayashi burped and, yes, the force of the belch propelled parts of four chewed-up hot dogs from his mouth. But, ever the champion, Kobayashi caught it all in his hand — and some in his water cup — and pushed it all back in.

. . .

As the late Johnny Cochran might have said: Kobayashi caught his regurgitate and didn’t hesitate. Yes, bits of hot dog did remain in his cup at the end of the competition — so I docked him a quarter-dog, making the new world record 53-3/4 instead of 54.

From where I sat, there was no controversy: Kobayashi had stared defeat in the face and pushed it right back into his own jaws of victory.

Backstory: Trying To Convince Your Body To Dance It All Down.

I’m Killing Myself And Taking The Entire Morning Rush With Me

Potential suicides really need to learn to off themselves without making the rest of us late for work:

A man committed suicide yesterday by laying his head on the third rail at an East Village subway station, authorities said.

The unidentified victim, described only as in his 60s, jumped onto the southbound tracks at the No. 6-line Astor Place station at about 5:30 a.m.

As a train rumbled into the station, the operator saw the man sprawled on the tracks and slammed on the brakes, screeching to a halt just inches away from him. The man then put his head on the electrified third rail.

Commuters, this has been your vague “police investigation” for the day.

I’m Killing Myself And Taking An Entire City Block With Me

Authorities believe that the big blast that leveled an Upper East Side building was part of a suicide attempt:

The demented doctor suspected of blowing up his $9 million upper East Side brownstone yesterday morning was on the verge of losing his beloved home in a bitter divorce settlement — and had vowed to “die in my house.”

Shortly before leveling the four-story E. 62nd St. building with a huge gas explosion that ignited terror fears and injured 15 pedestrians and firefighters, Dr. Nicholas Bartha sent a rambling, 14-page e-mail aimed at his estranged wife and other targets of his fury.

“When you read these lines your life will change forever. You deserve it,” the hulking physician ominously wrote his wife of 29 years, Cordula. “You will be transformed from gold digger to ash and RUBBISH digger.”

Bartha told her, “I will leave the house only if I am dead. You ridiculed me. You should have taken it seriously.”

The 66-year-old doctor e-mailed the poison-pen missive to at least a dozen other people and organizations — including California Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger and the Fox News Channel — shortly before the failed suicide blast that left him critically burned and buried. The city was rocked about 8:40 a.m. when, officials believe, Bartha opened up the gas lines in his 19th century building before sparking the blast that reduced the home to rubble and sent flames and smoke high into the clear morning sky.

“I thought it was a terrorist attack,” said David Kovac, 23, of Manhattan, who was walking past 34 E. 62nd St. when he was suddenly covered in ash.

Within minutes, the smoldering scene of devastation smack in one of the world’s wealthiest neighborhoods was on TV screens around the nation — drawing the attention of the White House, which quickly put out a statement saying the explosion was not terror-related.

The Doctor sounds like a charming guy:

The 66-year-old doctor tormented his wife of 29 years, a Holland-born Jew, with swastikas — and cut her off financially as she fought a life-and-death battle with breast cancer, court papers reveal.

. . .

His ex-lawyer said Nicholas Bartha just couldn’t accept the reality that he would eventually have to give up his precious building, believed to be worth up to $9 million, to pay his wife in a divorce settlement.

A friend said last night that the doctor had received an eviction notice Friday. The building was to be auctioned in October, sources said.

“He just didn’t get it,” said Ira Garr, the ex-lawyer, who stopped representing Bartha last year after the doctor abruptly stopped responding to calls and letters. “He couldn’t get his mind wrapped around it. He wanted to stay in the house, period.”

In the process of maiming passersby and endangering emergency workers, the Doctor also has destroyed a landmarked building:

The obliterated brownstone at 34 E. 62nd St. belonged to an elite group of buildings protected by the city’s Landmarks Preservation Commission.

In May 1981, the city designated the four-story neo-Greco-style building a landmark within the upper East Side historic district.

The original owners, L.D. Russell and J.B. Wray, erected the stone-facade home in 1881-1882.

Whoever replaces the building must get approval from the commission and create a structure that resembles the original brownstone, according to commission Chairman Robert Tierney.

Meanwhile, the Doctor’s suicide e-mail includes jabs at Hillary Clinton and Cindy Sheehan. How that’s pertinent, I don’t know.

Monday, Can’t Trust That Day

Phrases and words that shouldn’t be seen near each other include “explosion” and “building collapse”:

An explosion was heard before a fire and collapse at a 3-story building on Manhattan’s East Side on Monday, the Fire Department said.

Television reports said people were trapped inside, but fire officials did not immediately confirm that.

Heavy black smoke rose high above the building, wedged between taller structures on 62nd Street between Park and Madison avenues. Damage, including shattered windows, could be seen at one of the adjoining buildings.

The building reportedly housed a doctor’s office and a beauty salon.

Streets around the area were closed off to traffic as ambulances and rescue units responded just before 9 a.m.

Witnesses told reporters that they heard a loud explosion, but it wasn’t clear whether it was before or after the fire started.