We are being mercilessly pelted with “Game Day!” ads. Any kind of product you can think of, any good or service, is tied in with the Stupor Bowl.
Incidentally, that’s what Sunday is for. Football. Sabbath-schmabbath. Worship? I think we’re being invited to worship football. And bottomless consumption.
I used to like football, long ago; but over the years I have come to detest it. I think it’s the incessant self-promotion that turns me off. It reminds me of pro wrestling, without pro wrestling’s charm and elegance (I am speaking comparatively).
The objective of pro sports is to mine the public and extract wealth. It once was done entertainingly. Now they’ll do it any way they can.
Commercials built around football: two obnoxious thwoppings for the price of one.
The bill now goes to the Senate, where Republicans–if only they can stick together–enjoy a 52-48 majority.
My question is, Why do Democrats want to promote “transgender”? The whole party is practically crazy for it. And please don’t tell me it’s some arcane kind of civil rights issue: the right of a man to compete in women’s sports. What bunk.
Oh! Democrats in the Senate argue that a ban of fake women in women’s sports “would empower child predators.”
What??? But that’s how they think–if you want to call it thinking.
Yo, Leo! I thought you said we hadda cut way back on our carbon emissions. You want us to do without air conditioning, private car ownership, eating meat, etc. But there you go in your private plane! Way, way, way more carbon-belching than anything us plebs do could ever generate.
But you and your celebrity friends blame us for (gasp!) Climate Change.
Leo–he’s an actor–sez Climbit Change is All Our Fault for having cars and ACs and non-vegan meals and, most of all, Not Obeying When Movie Stars Tell Us What To Do.
We are not anxious to have him back. Los Angeles is burning, Leo. Go sell your miracle water somewhere else.
Ah, 1950s television! A great time to be eight or nine years old!
Taking time out from the nooze, it popped into my head to revisit this old show–William Tell, starring Conrad Phillips, produced by British Broadcasting.
It has half an hour of high adventure, and the good guys always won. You marched behind William Tell because his cause was just. Freedom! He fought for freedom.
By cracky, do we need heroes now! People like William Tell. And maybe we’re going to get some. Maybe Donald Trump’s election was the start of something glorious. Hey! Once upon a time we followed George Washington, Ben Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, Lafayette… and a new country was born. Our country.
Maybe it’s once again a time for heroes.
[P.S.–Sound supervisor, Fred Turtle. “And how are all the little turtles?” Check the closing credits if you don’t believe me.]
G’day, boys ‘n’ gulls! Byron the Quokka here with this weekend’s spectacular TV lineup offered by Quokka University. Compare our sample with that stuff from 1964 (see above).
9:27 a.m. Ch. 42 AREL UZBEK LIVE!–Talk like you never heard before
The popular Central Asian talk show host sets up shop in Gary, Indiana! This morning’s guests: A man who’s never owned a camel but always wanted one; Sidney Blumenthal; a nameless woman who eats Milk Bones dog biscuits.
9:30 a.m. Ch. 16 MOVIE–Indescribable horror and suspense
In El Cid Meets the Mummy (Honduran/Danish, 1974: 164 minutes), Spain’s national hero (Buddy Hackett) goes up against a rampaging mummy (Marjorie Maine) that’s turning Boston into a ghost town! Head Ghost: Laura Dern. Man Who Looks Like Groucho Marx: Harry Washtub.
What happens when you mix roller derby with baseball? Tune in and find out! Play-by-play guy Arnold Potsdam takes you through this week’s hot game, featuring the Lansing Boyles vs. the Syracuse Pharisees. Special guest: Edith Swonk, lifetime record-holder for in-game suspensions. Sponsored by Big Ape Chewing Gum.
11:12 a.m. Ch. 06 CRYBABY KOSTRO–Western
Who’s the fastest gun in Finrod Beach, North Carolina? Frank Buttocks stars as Crybaby while the rest of the cast tries to explain how the North Carolina coast can possibly be the locale for a Western. This week: Some guy from another Western (Clint Eastwood) has to be shot when he makes a lewd remark in the Finrod Saloon.
Well, folks, there’s your sample! If you’re lookin’ for fabulous TV, your search has ended.
I’d be happier if they let us post still photos! But an ear of corn on the cob covers a multitude of sins.
It was my custom, for years, to post this beautiful song around Christmas-time, as a present to my readers. With all the chaos here lately, I’d completely forgotten it. Until today.
So here it is: My Love’s an Arbutus, sing by the Fairhaven Singers conducted by Charles V. Stanford.
It makes a brief and lovely appearance in 1951’s Scrooge with Alistair Sim.
So that’s over 4 billion dollars down the drain (how much is that in euros?), including $50 million out of Sheikh Whatsisname’s personal account–and 30,000 jobs, fabulous amounts of money, etc., etc.
Mostly they seem to have run out of money; but the headline writer couldn’t resist the “rare spiders” as an insurmountable obstacle to actually building the park. The “jumping spiders” are only mentioned once, and that fleetingly. It seems the site of the park used to be some factories, now closed–and now a really nice environment for the spiders. The government wants to protect the spiders. Bye-bye, 30,000 jobs.
When they’re not arresting people for Saying Bad Things Online and Making Other People Feel Bad, the United Kingdom is raising farmers’ taxes, which in turn raises the price of food, and erasing its national borders. What’s not to like?
This is not being done by a foreign conqueror who means for Britain to shut up and stay conquered. This is the UK’s own elected government doing them in the eye.
When rich and famous movie stars, athletes, and other celebrities whose function might elude us, how to people feel about that?
According to an Associated Press-NORC poll, two-thirds of the people they asked were not buying celebrity endorsements of various politicians–mostly Democrats. The poll found 39% disapprove of celebrities shooting off their big mouths to try to influence an election, with only 24% approving (https://www.sacbee.com/news/politics-government/article297750653.html).
Are you surprised? Or are you one of those characters who exclaimed, “Holy moly! Taylor Swift endorsed Kamala Harris? Well, my vote goes to Kamala, then!”
Why would anyone care what some caterwauling “artiste” has to say? I mean, vote for J. P. Swampgas because Johnny Cafone endorsed him in a concert?
This is why our country’s founders placed so many restrictions om the popular vote.
Yeahbut! Maybe the poll means more and more of us are waking up. Maybe we’ve had it with celebrities. Maybe they should just shut up and make corny movies about downtrodden feminists who turn into superheroes.
Folklore buffs, historians, scholars, and all sorts of folks that been trying to decipher this Christmas carol. It goes back to the 18th century, and probably farther than that. Over the years, the lyrics changed again and again. The carol was popular in many different countries, and each country had its own version. England, Scotland, France, Iceland… just to name a few.
Sung here by Ray Conniff with the Ray Conniff singers.
