New Courses at Quokka U.!

Quokka | San Diego Zoo Animals & Plants

Actually, all the courses at Quokka University are new because we haven’t opened yet. But let me turn the program over to Byron the Quokka–

G’day! We’re experimenting with a course on Leaf Cuisine; but before I tell you about any more of the courses we’ll be offering, I’m supposed to remind you that we’ve got a comment contest going–just 704 more comments and we reach No. 65,000 and someone, it could be you, is a lucky winner!

A very famous celebrity named Brad Something-or-other is going to teach a course called How to Write Good, we’ll have one on Stinky Movies, a lecture series on How to Avoid the News, and a mini-course about French painters that you never heard of. I haven’t, that’s for sure. Bob Matisse? Ginger Renoir? I think I’ll take this course! Felix the Platypus is going to teach it.

Munchable, crunchable leaves will be served with every class meeting!

Some Unanswerable Questions

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Forget the riddle of the Sphinx; these questions are harder.

The first one popped into my mind as I was standing in the supermarket checkout line this morning, glancing in dazed horror at the tabloids. To wit: Really, is there anybody out there who reads this stuff, cares about it, thinks of these celebrities who aren’t famous enough for me to have heard of them–and actually talks about them with others, referring to said celebrities by their first names only? Not answerable. Not even all that imaginable.

Think about that one for a while. I have to go outside and get some air.

Who’s the Biggest Freak in the Freak Show?

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In case you were wondering just what a douchebag is…

People Magazine ought to change its name to Creeple.

The biggest freak at this year’s Met Gala, as covered by People, is some alleged celebrity I never heard of, Jared Leto, who supposedly won an Oscar once for something or other (https://people.com/style/met-gala-2019-jared-leto-gucci/).  He showed up in a red Gucci robe carrying a wax replica of his own head in his arm; or maybe the wax head was on his neck and the real one was down there: it’s always difficult to tell, with today’s celebrities.

This is apparently a contest to see which ninny can wear the silliest clothes and waste the most money on them. What’s really scary to contemplate is the possibility that there exists an audience for this. It’s also possible that there is no audience and they’re all just doing it to impress each other.

Used to be, for 25 cents you could see the freak show at the Indiana State Fair. I’m sure it costs a lot more than that to see the Met Gala.

Who’s Gonna Host the Oscars???

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I’m too sick to cover any nooze today, and I’ll have to get a lot better before I can even think about cranking out this week’s Newswithviews column; but in the meantime, I am troubled that suddenly they’ve got no one to host the Oscars. Some celebrity I never heard of was going to do it, but it turns out he told a couple of “gay” jokes a few years ago, so he’s out–and they haven’t found a replacement.

I was going to suggest the boxer, Oscar Bonavena, but he died a while ago.

It’s got to be some left-wing loon of an actor who has never, ever, in his whole life said anything that anyone (except Christians and normal people) could possibly object to. Does such a person actually exist?

I have two candidates to offer.

Emmanuel Macron, president of France: he already has a couple of thrones to sit on, if he can’t do the gig standing up. And he may soon be looking for a job, having gotten his countrymen madder than they’ve been at anyone since Hitler. And he despises normal people, loves high taxes, and is a rock-solid globalist and Citizen Of The World. He might be happy to host the Oscars. It just might save him from the guillotine.

But if he’s not available, the next best thing would be a robot–one specially made just for this occasion, who has no personal history of ever saying anything and would be incapable of saying or doing anything except for whatever he’s programmed for. They could call him “Mr. Future,” as in the future of liberalism. As in “Look, this is what the human race will be when we’ve finished with it!”

Either way, they can’t miss.

You’re Not Allowed to Have that Opinion, Kanye!

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Celebrities, most of whom I never heard of, are going postal over rap star Kanye West’s embrace of President Donald Trump (http://www.breitbart.com/big-hollywood/2018/04/26/celebs-attack-kanye-west-pro-trump-tweets-complete-freaking-lunatic/).

They think he’s crazy. West called on his audience to “reject groupthink” and declared, on Twitter, “We have the right to independent thought.” This inspired lots of cursing and name-calling from the Loving Left. One of his fellow rap stars accused him of acting white. None of the celebrities said he had a right to his opinion. You only have a right to have Rosie O’Donnell’s opinion.

Mr. West was hospitalized last year for exhaustion and sleep deprivation. He was keeping himself too busy. Count on the celebrities to use that against him.

It would, of course, be sheer disaster if people stopped thinking of themselves as members of Democrat client groups and started thinking of themselves as individuals instead. If they ever started making up their own minds, liberalism would be out of business in a heartbeat.

If Kanye West can make that happen, he belongs on Mount Rushmore.