"Sweet Caroline" the stupid song sung by mindless morons at Sports Events. WHY???

The Joshua-Parker fight was nearly ruined before it began: "Sweet Caroline" was sung. As if it was the National Anthem. Of what? Insane Asylums? Sweet Shoppes?

As Michael Buffer, the ring announcer, waved his hands to encourage the morons, some 80,000 hooligans and halfwits sang "Sweet Caroline...OI OI OI..." for NO REASON THAT ANYONE ON THIS EARTH CAN FATHOM.

Joshua and Parker are heavyweight champions. They are not a girl and boy in love. Neither has CAROLINE for a first name.

In case you only know the catchy-numbing four notes ("Sweet Ca-ro-line") and the three farty unsung notes that follow it, here's some of the trite (we're talking Neil Diamond) lyrics.

What these lyrics have to do with football, soccer, baseball or boxing...is IMPOSSIBLE to figure:

"Hands, touching hands
Reaching out, touching me, touching you
Sweet Caroline
Good times never seemed so good
I'd be inclined
To believe they never would
But now I look at the night
and it don't seem so lonely
We filled it up with only two
And when I hurt
Hurting runs off my shoulders
How can I hurt when I'm holding you

Yeah?

SO?

Find whoever is insisting on "SWEET CAROLINE" being played at boxing matches, and have that person PUNCHED by Anthony Joshua, the way Anthony Joshua punched Joseph Parker.

The best I can say for this trite trot up and down the scales is that it makes slightly more sense than another of Diamond's Pop Farts..."Cracklin' Rosie." What makes Rosie "crackle" I don't really want to know.

I figured...wrongly...that Wikipedia would tell me what I was missing here. WHY, OH WHY OH WIKIPEDIA, do drunken jackasses in stadiums have to bellow a Neil Diamond song men work up enough of a stink to repel any Caroline, Rosie, or even a female border collie?

Wikipedia says:

"The playing of "Sweet Caroline" has become a fixture at many sporting events in the United States. In this version, the horn figure after Diamond sings "Sweet Caroline" in the chorus is replaced by the crowd singing "Bap Bap Bah”, and after he sings "Good times never seemed so good," the crowd sings "So good, so good, so good." This pattern is repeated whenever the chorus is played."

Among the events:

"The song is played at the start of the fourth quarter of Pittsburgh Panthers Football games at Heinz Field. In response, West Virginia University students and fans will yell "eat shit, Pitt" during the refrain..."

According to Wikipedia, the inanely catchy song was supposedly inspired by Caroline Kennedy. Neil Diamond apparently said as much in one interview, but in another, simply said it was a song to his wife, and he needed another name, one with three syllables. (No, her name isn't Cracklin' Rosie either, it's Marsha.)

This irritating skip-and-mince song, which no woman named Caroline would ever find romantic or appealing, is played at:

Boston Red Sox games. At Penn State football games. At sports events at the University of North Carolina. Any time the Carolina Panthers win a game. Any time the Castleford Tigers (a rugby team in the UK) win. It's played at Sydney Swans (cricket) home games. It has relentlessly turned up at boxing matches, British football (soccer) matches, and has even resisted scandal. Yes, when Penn State was in the midst of Coach Sandusky's pedophilia trial, the song was TEMPORARILY banned in 2012 due to the suggestive lines "Hands, touching hands, reaching out, touching me, touching you." Once Sandusky was jailed for doing more than "reaching out" to naked male teens in the shower, Penn State figured all should be forgiven. PS, "Oh, I love my Rosie child She got the way to make me happy" is a line from "Cracklin' Rosie," which SHOULD make it a must-play for any number of sports teams loaded with sex offenders.

It is vaguely understandable with the New York Yankees ruin every win by piping in Sinatra singing "Start spreading the news. I'm leaving today..." but coming around to growling about the city that never sleeps...New York New York."

It's unfortunate that at boxing matches, the action often has to wait until both fighters, from different countries, have their national anthems fractured. (Parker, a Samoan living in New Zealand, had a woman sing BOTH the national anthem of Samoa AND the national anthem of New Zealand...put it this way, it would take less time to fly to New Zealand than here both of these awful and interminable tunes.)

WHY "Sweet Caroline" has to be inflicted remains as much of a mystery as why it isn't a national law that people must clean up after their dogs shit on the sidewalk.

MARK ZUCKERBERG GIVES A SPEECH

Kids say the Darndest Things around Easter Time

Jesse Hughes, the OSTRICH of DEATH METAL

It came as a sickening, unwelcome surprise, to some, when a victim of a terrorist attack turned around...and spat on the victims of another terrorist attack.

As with any act of stupidity, your first thought is HOW DARE YOU. Then comes: WHY DID YOU? This applies to every act of violence. As soon as we hear of an assassination, a murder, a bombing, we ask, "Who did it?" and wonder what motivated the person, and how that person got bent.

It does seem like Jesse Hughes is a longtime opinionated asshole. Do we care how he got that way? Or do we ask, what's set him off now, to do something so painfully destructive and foolish? You really want to teach the kids of America NOT to protest? NOT to get things off their chests? Not to do what YOU do, which is to get up in front of a crowd to get your views across?

Even in this Trump-dumped world, where we also tolerate every religious fanatic's rhetoric, from the Jihad-loving Imams to Farrakhan and back, the bilious sneers and curses from Jesse Hughes were reported all over the world. They were even re-reported by all the second-hand and third-hand websites that just re-write things to get banner ad money:

The disaster in France had us all angry and depressed…and also feeling sorry for a crappy band named “Eagles of Death Metal.” They were on stage at the time of the attack and, well, people were just trying to have a good time listening to DEATH METAL.

Now it turns out that this EAGLE of "Death Metal" is more of an OSTRICH, sticking his head in the sand, up to his red neck, refusing to check out WHY there have been protests and what the BENEFIT might be. Like most every other birdbrain, he also swallowed the "Fake News." Yes, The Donald is not wrong. There IS plenty of FAKE NEWS. And Mr. Hughes went ballistic over a doctored photo that was spread through redneck blogs and anywhere the word "snowflake" or "lefty" or "libtard" is sold:

Going back a hundred years, one of the first big silent films ever to hit theaters was called..."INTOLERANCE." D.W. Griffith felt this was a deadly word. It still is. Too bad today's moviegoers only want to see inane cartoons and super hero shit. "INTOLERANCE" is still with us. It causes violence and it reacts to violence.

Funny, after feeling bad for the Eagles of Death Metal, up on stage trying to entertain folks, and being traumatized, I actually listened to one of their albums. No, it wasn't that interesting to me, but my reaction was to reach out, not to slap. As pathetic as it often is, this is more of a human emotion. Rolling Stone "reached out" to put a baby-faced psycho murderer on their cover, apparently to try and understand why a curly-haired cutie fairly assimilated in a college town, would want to kill and maim innocent people watching the Boston Marathon. And right now, the kid who killed over a dozen of his classmates is getting fan mail in prison and marriage proposals. Sick? Or just a weird reaction based on compassion or anger or confusion?

I don't know much about Jesse Hughes. He seems like a good ol' fashioned good ol' boy who screams about Jesus when it suits him, and was a supporter of guns and the 2nd Amendment long before some Muslims came up with their own logic in front of him and his audience.

Did he realize that the Muslims babbling about Allah Akbar were no different than any other Inquisition of intolerance against another religion? Maybe he just felt Holy Wars happen, like shit happens. He's all full of his CHRIST and REDEMPTION and PUNISHMENT fanaticism.

Where did it all lead him? To the same INTOLERANCE and NEGATIVITY it leads many others. To the same strict refusal to see anyone else's view.

Perhaps what set off Jesse (if we still care about WHY, which maybe we need to), is that the kids protesting looked like they were having fun. They were getting their way. They were getting attention and being on TV, and Jesse Hughes is not likely to ever get that kind of attention as a solo artist or with any band. He wasn't invited to sing on "Saturday Night Live" like the guy who fronted the band on stage when the Las Vegas shooter began going nuts.

Here's kids...mere KIDS...delivering speeches on national TV, being taken seriously by reporters, and having their views heard, and even respected. Their view? That maybe classmates shouldn't bring guns to class, and shouldn't have access to them, and nobody should be able to put somebody else in danger. Seems like a good thing.

What would Jesse have wanted in France? That the stage be littered with assault rifles at the ready, so in case of a Muslim attack, he and his band could defend themselves and their audience?

He seems to be saying that gun control didn't stop the actions of an army of religious fanatics so...give up. Let everybody have weapons. Make things WORSE.

It’s a very sad fact that America is so polarized, so literally BLACK AND WHITE, that nobody wants to listen or compromise. Phil Ochs comes to mind: “And so they argue through the night. Black is black. White is white. Walk away both knowing they are right.”

Yeah, but how many have heard of, or are listening to Phil Ochs music? Not even if they re-issue his stuff with a dance beat and vocoder-ize him.

Instead, Jesse Hughes offered this bunch of curses, threats and jibberish, because he saw a "FAKE NEWS" photo that bothered him, and he saw kids getting a day off from school, and didn't think back to his own pain and trauma in France and understand that these kids, far younger and much more sensitive, are SCARED. So he write this scary shit instead:

Who does this guy sound more in line with, the kids talking about gun control, or the Muslim murderers talking Jihad?

INTOLERANCE...gets death and destruction. COMPROMISE gets something better.

Let's stop the paranoia over "they'll take away our guns completely if there are ANY gun laws." That's not going to happen. There IS a second amendment and there IS a place for guns in our society, like it or not. There are sportsmen who like their rifles. There are also people who legitimately fear home invasion. And they should, especially those who own their own homes in areas that don't have a lot of traffic and closed circuit TV cameras.

Let's use some common sense. Ban assault weapons. Ban gizmos that can turn a gun into a rapid-firing weapon of mass destruction. Be efficient about background checks and a waiting period.

Just as you need a driver's license before you can get behind the wheel of a car, gun owners should KNOW the basics of safety and pass a test. They should know the basics of how to use the weapon correctly. The disaster of that kid Lanza in Connecticut was that Mommy’s gun collection was easily available to him. Did she think he couldn’t find the key to a locked cabinet, assuming she even kept it locked?

How about this: guns that will ONLY fire for the owner? Cell phones can lock. So should guns. This isn’t science fiction. It can be done.

It’s been proven that by limiting teenage drivers, by having speed limits, by having rules against drunken driving, car fatalities are lessened. We don't say "Oh, people drive drunk and always will, so let's not put them in jail if they kill people." Or, "People speed anyway, so knock down the speed limit signs."

Time magazine (April 2, 2018 page 32) reported that “handguns were responsible for 90% of homicides in 2016…" Their suggestion: "require every buyer, of any age, to obtain a license that includes a registration of all purchases and at least a modest training program.”

It's sad enough that there are stories every day of some argument where a person had a gun handy and used it. If that person did NOT have the gun, a few words would've been all. Our gun culture makes it “romantic” to carry a gun. The maniac who killed the students in Florida actually wrote that he wanted to be a “school shooter.” He didn’t say a school bomber. There have been televised suicides where people used guns. They didn't say, "Hey everyone, I'm taking poison." They didn't slice their wrists.

The crapathy of saying, “Oh, you can’t prevent anything” is exactly that; crap and apathy. We don’t say, “Oh, let a 12 year-old drive a car.” We don’t say “Ban speed limits, people speed anyway.” We need to use common sense against lethal weapons. We also need to understand that the NRA is just a bunch of fat cats who want to sell something. They could be selling growth hormones or cigarettes or represent pig farmers polluting North Carolina with 14 pounds of manure per pig per day. “Oh, short sighted businessmen,” Joni Mitchell sang, “nothing lasts for long.” President Obama said recently that when something "is not right," and there's resistance to change, you can bet that the reason is the status quo. Somebody's making a profit, pure and simple. In this case it's the NRA, and why should they have any more of a conscience than moneymaking organizations that peddle overpriced pills, that sell pork to China, that use child labor to make shoes, or smuggle drugs?

The kids in Florida are worried there will be another attack; a copycat in their school or some other jackass in a different school. Jesse Hughes doesn’t figure another bunch of ISIS maniacs are going to attack him on a stage? Good for him. Somehow Jesus is on his side, but wasn't on the side of his audience a while ago? Interesting. Is Jesse also going to tell security to walk away and not check for weapons at the door because terrorists will find a way anyway?

There have been several attacks in schools, from Columbine to this latest outrage at Parkland and it needs to stop. And Mr. “Death Metal” needs to think about LIVING. Go back to being an Eagle, Jesse, and stop being an Ostrich.

Sarah Jessica Parker - Book Mongrel (and clueless library pseudo-visitor)

Sure, sure. Three names makes you literary. Edgar Allan Poe. James Fenimore Cooper. Sarah Jessica Parker.

Who? That horse-face from "Slut in the City," one of those chick shows that makes women seem stupid? Now she's, what, the owner of her own "book club" and "fashion imprint" for gum-chewers who like chick lit?

This hilarious/horrifying puff piece on Horse Face tells us that she loves libraries. One of the good things is that she can visit one and nobody will burst into spontaneous applause or come asking for a selfie:

"...people have their heads down. Nobody is interested in me. It's such a wonderful place for people to disappear."

Maybe nobody is interested in Sarah Jessica Parker is because...at this point, with "Sex and the City" DVDs not selling for three bucks in MY local NYPL's library/bookstore...WE'RE JUST NOT INTO HER.

Fact is, anyone walking into a library is prone to get hostile looks. A library is, after all, HOME to the homeless, so YOU are trespassing. It's home to crazies who grab all of the days newspapers ("I'm READING THESE"). It's also an old age home where anyone with a small noisy child is the target of hateful glares.

If Sarah thinks a library is "a wonderful place for people to disappear," is might be because some of the transients who make the library their home all day carry knives and hammers and aren't afraid to indicate that YOU will disappear if you get too close.

Libraries are also an excellent place for psychotics to disappear...into the bathroom...and stay there for hours. It's where a lot of them spend their hours in deep contemplation of the feces they've left in the toilet.

Idiot actresses are always putting their foot in it, much the same way as homeless in the library put their socks in the sink. Leave it around for a while, it make sense. To somebody. Right, a library sink SHOULD be available for the homeless to wash their socks. And yes, Sarah, a library SHOULD be a wonderful place. But it rarely is, because it's a free space for psychopaths and users. And apparently has-been actresses.

That Parker gets her own "fiction imprint" should impress nobody, least of all librarians. What's SHE mean to the book world? Nothing. Her name on a book is like somebody naming their pet fish. NOT impressive to many people.

Parker seems to be hoping that making nice to libraries will mean that libraries will buy dozens and dozens of copies of whatever books she publishes. No, Sarah, today's libraries are strapped for cash, are mostly flophouses for idiots, and in the case of my nearest local library, more of an Internet cafe.

The first floor has been gutted with bookshelves replaced by tables and computer terminals. Same with the second floor. As with regular bookstores, browsing is discouraged. You want a book? Go sit and wait for your turn at the computer, dial up the NYPL website, and order what books or DVDS or CDs you'd like. These will be reserved for you.

That's another thing, Sarah. DVDS and CDs have taken over a lot of space at the branches of the NYPL because people would rather watch movies and TV shows (not yours, though) instead of read.

The article mentions the "launch" (books as boats) of her first title. It will be Fatima Farheen Mirza's debut, "A Place for Us." Which should be subtitled, "A Place for Us Muslim Women Because We're Trendy, and To Hell with old white guys named Edgar Allan Poe or James Fenimore Cooper. Or even Isaac Bashevis Singer, because we're SO over the Jews. SO over them. Muslim Woman is the new Old Jewish Man. Look, it's one thing to mutter about how the Holocaust actually happened, and it's another to threaten a Fatwa and a Jihad against everyone who doesn't like hummus.

I kid. That was a joke. Ha ha. Not that I'm gonna make a cartoon version of Mohamed.

But, no, it's not likely that a book from Book Mogul and Book Mongrel Sarah Jessica Parker is likely to end up on my shelf OR blipped into my Nook even via a free download courtesy of a Google search of blogs and torrents.

Let's just say that Sarah Jessica Parker and her bunch are not likely to be thinking, "What we need is a good book..." the thinking is, "Let's have ANY book as long as it's from a woman of color, a woman with an ethnic name, or somebody writing a thesis on how slut shaming is horrible and "Sex in the City" is groundbreaking art and every library should have every season."

RUDE APPALL - A MISOGYNY STAR ON THE WALK OF FAME

Minstrels…they aren’t dead. Instead of Black minstrels there are Vagina Minstrels. In the old days, white men turned up on stage with nappy wigs, burnt-cork faces, and caricature mouths and voices. They were Blacks and they sang and danced and people cheered as if it wasn’t racism. Now? men turn up on stage in insane wigs, garish make-up, act in a parody of womanhood, and people cheer as if this is not misogyny.

The latest issue of "Entertainment Weakly," burbles twice about Ru-Paul, a man in drag. Question:

Would “Entertainment Weakly” cheer about a white actor in brown-face? I mean, what if Al Pacino wanted to play Frederick Douglass in an HBO bio flick? The media wouldn't cover it except to scream "SHAME!" If PBS offered a documentary on Al Jolson, well...they wouldn't because he's a pariah because he made his fame singing "Mammy" in black drag. Regular drag is just fine. Why?

Drag is mostly men who have no sexual interest in women making fun of women. What, they excuse is they want to BE women? An irony is that Jolson, in blackface, wanted to BE black. He sang sympathetic songs like "Old Black Joe," and gave blacks a heart ("Mammy") and emphasized that blacks were not dangerous but joyful ("Swanee, How I love ya, How I love ya!") He's still a pariah now. Because we're enlightened about blackface.

So, drag queens "identify" with real women, just happen to emphasize the "we make them paint their face and dance" aspect that John Lennon criticized in song? They just emphasize that women are all about make-up and wigs and bras and looking like objects?

How about Rachel Dolezal, the white woman who “admired” and “identified” with blacks, and was then outed and fired from her job? How DARE she pretend to be black. Funny, a transvestite can walk around dressed as a woman and even use the ladies room. Rachel Dolezal was banished. Probably isn't allowed in a tanning salon, either. Somehow "diversity" has a black line that can't be crossed, but the pink one can be stomped on with high heels. No ladies in "pussy hats" are upset that drag queens make fun of equality and women being equal to men and not subjected to ridicule?

In the current “Entertainment Weakly” they whoop and hoot and woo-hoo RuPaul getting a STAR on the corrupt “Hollywood Walk of Fame.” Corrupt: a whole bunch of useless TV quiz show hosts are there. All kinds of morons (I am NOT namin’ names) are there. Why? Because TV networks, record labels and high powered agents are willing to pay (bribe) the "Walk of Fame" city council with the $10,000 demanded for "maintenance" of the sidewalk.

If you have any credentials at all, and CAN PAY THE FEE, and guarantee you'll SHOW UP and bring cameras to promote the event, you get your "Walk of Fame" star.

"Entertainment Weakly" quotes Ru Paul as saying "you have to love yourself." Original? THAT? Let's overlook it as an excuse to promote the "diversity" of how wonderful it is for drag queens to caricature women.

An irony here: drag queen icon Julie Newmar (“To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar”) is NOT on the “Hollywood Walk of Fame.” Why? The “Batman” TV show was 50 years ago, when the "Walk of Fame" sneered at TV stars and had limited space for newcomers. At this point 20th Century Fox isn’t gonna pay the $10,000 so promote their DVD set of "Batman" by having Julie Newmar grin and point to her star. So SHE, world famous, a Tony award winner as well, is out. Ru Paul is in, and a moronic hackneyed remark he made is considered quotable.

As with The Three Stooges, it would be up to rabid fans to pony up the money and scream and holler, but Newmar’s fans aren’t quite as, uh, aggressive. Somehow drag queens aren't marching and picketing to get Julie Newmar a star, either.

A few pages later, the magazine offers a page and a half (we’ll settle for one page) chortling and gushing over the latest offensive bunch of fairly grotesque drag queens in full get-up. This is to womanhood what graffiti is to the Mona Lisa. Be honest: if there was a show caricaturing Jews or Muslims the way these guys caricature drag queens...it would be protested. In fact, it would never make it on the air. "Oooh, what a huge nose you have! Let's see how well you bake matzo! Har har!" "Here's our next contestant in a burqa, waving a machine gun and shouting Allah Akbar! Har har!"

Jews and Muslims get offended by stereotypical antics. Blacks are just a TAD upset if they are portrayed as menials or if not enough get nominated for Academy Awards. But...women don't think it's obnoxious for men to dress up in garish caricature DRAG? Any of these look like women you'd see in the workplace, or vote into the Senate?

The editor of Entertainment Weekly is very out about being very gay. He dresses gay, his hair style is gay, and that's fine.

I wonder how he'd feel if a straight, or a panel of straights, all put on little bow ties, talked in italics, wore the stubble, and tried to "pass" as GAY for some kind of CABLE TV SHOW GAME? I also wonder if Mr. Greenblatt would find it amusing if a panel of gentiles all put on Jewish accents, used putty to make their noses huge, and began screaming about how much money they want to make by owning all the movie studios and banks. Oh. Not too amusing? Let's say there's a bit of a difference between Valerie Harper playing a Jewish woman named Rhoda on "The Mary Tyler Moore Show," and somebody upping the ante 200% with a roaringly honked accent, constant references to matzo and money, and every other sentence ending in OY.

Now let's make a few points about gender bending. Transsexuals who were once men actually BELIEVE they were always women. Most want nothing more than to fit in and look like ordinary women. The last thing they'd ever want to do is get up on stage and prance around making fun of female sexuality, and watching men in the audience literally BUY into the idea that all it takes to be a woman is make-up, wigs, and lewdness.

As for using drag for laughs...there are ways of doing it properly. Take Kate McKinnon on “Saturday Night Live” doing male characters, and making them even more ridiculous because a woman is imitating them. There’s a kick to your balls, Mr. Sessions. People laugh WITH Kate not AT her. Likewise, “Some LIke it Hot” was funny because the Jack Lemmon was embarrassed about being dressed as a woman and Tony Curtis was in some ways expressing his character's feminine side and it was humorous to see his envy and conflicts. But...an entire show devoted to seeing who can be the most ridiculous, bitchy, disgusting, over-the-top parody of womanhood is something else.

Lastly, the late great Charles Pierce. He never called himself a "DRAG QUEEN." He found that term offensive.

The Daily Beast: Screw the JEWS, JESUS was BLACK. We need BLACK JESUS!

Hooray for "THE DAILY BEAST."

You know them? They're one of the Millennial-licking editorials-as-news sites. The idea is to GET TRAFFIC, and for that you need a zany, if not utterly STUPID name. BING! Ooops, taken. NEWSER! Nope, nope. GAWKER? Heyyy, cut that out.

So, "THE DAILY BEAST" jumped on the "Let's make more money for Andrew Lloyd Troll" bandwagon, and is promoting the shit out of NBC's smart-ass gambit of a live broadcast of "Jesus Christ Superstar."

Now, the Christians are all right with this. Honestly, they are. It's some other religion that doesn't want its savior pictured, or portrayed. That other religion will KILL YOU if you fuck with their savior.

NBC fortunately isn't concerned that their studios will be blown to bits by the Christians. The worst THEY do is cry out "God Hates Fags" at funerals. But I digress. Let's take a look at the black-ass-licking headline from "THE DAILY BEAST."

DAY-YAMMM. RAT OWN, RAT OWN. You go, girls (you're all girls at The Daily Beast, but I mean that as a compliment. Women should run the world. Black women, preferred.)

We NEED a Black Jesus. I know, you already had one in Michael Jackson but he changed color and then died. So far, he has yet to be resurrected, too.

How can you argue with a LEGEND? We not only need a BLACK JESUS, he should be a damn LEGEND.

Oh. He's a self-proclaimed legend. JOHN LEGEND's real name is John Roger Stephens. Awww. Day yammmmmmmmm!

According to "The Daily Beast," we desperately NEED a BLACK JESUS even more than we need a billion dollar "BLACK PANTHER" movie, which will spawn a thousand more idiotic Marvel comic pieces of CGI crap with blacks in the lead. We need a BLACK JESUS because, as everyone knows, Jesus was...BLACK. Definitely not Jewish.

Let's blot this JEW stuff out of the history books, the theoretical texts, and certainly the mouths of smart-ass Jews who like to say, while they're being beaten up by Christians, "Jesus was a Jew, you know...OW...OW...STOP HITTING ME..."

Here's a part of the article where the Jewish Liberal of All Time, Mr. GREENBLATT, tells the reporter that he got a big "thank you for doing this" from Blacks:

Here's my question, Mr. Greenblatt...would you or NBC ever, EVER think of have a Jewish actor play the Prophet Mohamed?

And why is it always fine when there's an "all-black" production on Broadway, but everyone screams if there's no "diversity" in some other production? Even in a simple and ridiculous production, a revival of "Bajour" at a small off-Broadway theater, the Gypsy leader (played by Herschel Bernardi in the original) was played by a Black. Really, Greenblatt, Black people had nothing better to do than email you about how wonderful it was to have a Black Jesus? First off, how does anyone even reach a fat cat like you? Second, is it possible it was just John Legend fans? Third, is it possible you got no emails at all but figured nobody would check on the actual numbers? "Oh, I deleted them all..."

Some will tell you that Jesus MAY have been, what, an Ethiopian Jew? Didn't Bob Dylan sing about this? "From Ethiopia to the Judgment Hall of Kaaaah-rice." Something like that? We don't know. There are no pictures in The Bible (not that this prevents some Christian leaders from dolling up in those lovely satin gowns, or making sure priests wear a collar, etc. etc.)

We NEED a BLACK JESUS because...it counters those awful-awful images from paintings done only a few centuries after he died, of a WHITE Jesus. THAT'S WHY.

Take Quentin Massys's painting of the baby Jesus and the Magi. Yes, he did very prominently paint a person "of color." Of course, being an ignorant racist bastard, he did NOT give the same African features to the baby Jesus. How fortunate there's Andrew Lloyd Weber's garbage rock opera and "JOHN LEGEND" to correct this hideous fault. THANK CHRIST!

Aw, cute little white bastard, Jesus was. But he wasn't. We know that. He looked like "JOHN LEGEND." It's vitally important to have a BLACK JESUS, remember. Here's a bit of "The Daily Beast" article to explain why. I'd quote the WHOLE article, but you really should go read it on "The Daily Beast" website so they can get their precious pennies from banner ads.

Hey, it's COOL, yo. Hear that? It's COOL to be DIVERSE, yo. And being DIVERSE means having Alice Cooper in there, and having some guy from "Hamilton," yo. What would NOT be cool, would be to have any Jews listed prominently in the cast. Jews? What the hell for? We're OVER the Jews. They used to be the amusing minority we cared about, but that was in the days of "Fiddler on the Roof" and Jackie Mason. Now it's "Hamilton" and Hannibal Buress (the guy who took down Cosby because Cosby suggested black men should not wear their pants around their thighs. If you prefer, there's Kevin Hart. You can't spell Hilarity without HART.)

The headliners for "Jesus Christ Superstar" being broadcast on Easter Sunday (and what BETTER thing could any Christian do on Easter Sunday) are:

JOHN LEGEND...SARA BAREILLES...ALICE COOPER.

Sara Bareilles is playing Mary Magdalene. Odd, isn't it? She's WHITE. She's VERY, VERY WHITE. Why is THAT? "The Daily Beast" is celebrating the Black Jesus, but where's THE BLACK MARY MAGDALENE, yo? Is John Legend saying that Mary Magdalene came from Oslo? Or is it that Jesus, being Black, had a thing for white women? (Oh, don't go there...diversity has NO sense of humor)

Funny, in these days of the METOO movement, and "Harvey Weinstein is JEWISH," we somehow have a white Mary Magdalene. Well, some things take time. I do hope that nobody says she's a whore. We shouldn't have that. Christ, it's really about time that we STOP casting women as WHORES. Although, hmmm, what do you think "The Daily Beast," maybe it's ok for Mary Magdalene to be a whore as long as we use the politically correct term: SEX WORKER. Day-yammmmm. That's the ticket. Respect the SEX WORKERS, for they are liberated women who are in control of their bodies, and are not subservient to ANY man. Oh. Except Jesus? As long as he's BLACK? And maybe, you know, has one of those floor-length fur coats and a big wide-brimmed hat, and takes good care of his girls?

I kid, I kid. Sapristi!

Go ahead, look up Sapristi. No, never mind, I'll tell you. Spike Milligan loved saying it, as opposed to "Jesus!" or "Jeez!" It's French and basically translates as "Blood of Christ." In fact, most British expressions that start with the word "Bloody" have something to do with the Blood of Christ, as does "Cor Blimey" etc, etc. But as long as we're so happy about finally having John Legend being Jesus Christ, we should simply say, admiringly, "Day-yammmmm."

You were expecting "Holy Moses?"

When the Facebook "FAN" Group JUMPS THE SHARK

Jean Shepherd's catch phrase was, "How did I end up with THESE idiots?"

I hear him in my head when I'm at a memorabilia convention filled with jerks calling attention to themselves in costumes. When I'm in a store and the people looking at the stuff I'm looking at, look like mutants. When I go to an event and most of the people are behaving in some rude, campy, snotty, effete, inane and dronish way that makes me wonder WHY they LIKE what I LIKE. AND...drum roll...when I make the mistake of joining a "FACEBOOK FAN GROUP."

The idea is to meet easy-going like-minded people, but instead, there are way too many examples of pond scum, psycho piranha and stinky goggle-eyed fish heads, ALL determined to take everyone's attention away from the subject of the group, and put it ON THEMSELVES.

The "moderators" of these groups never curb the enthusiasm of the idiots. The moderators are egomaniacs who wants as many members as possible, (often in the hopes of getting noticed by the target of their devotion). The mods have sympathy if not profound respect for maniacs even more devoted than they are. Soon the loonies are running the asylum, over-posting every day. Such as...

The nasal-voiced clod who flogs a weekly podcast where he drones about topics everyone already knows about.

The dickwipe re-chewing fatty blobs of stale facts via his fabulous BLOG ("and please put some money in my Paypal TIP JAR, so I can buy more things on eBay and show them to you!").

The pretentious Nazi with the daily reminder that that he is writing a book on some obscure area of fan interest and people should check out his KICKSTARTER campaign and donate "as much as you can as often as you can."

The "REAL" fans in the group feel a need to outdo each other in posting photos, especially "Here's ME with THE LIVING LEGEND at NerdCon 2013, and DripCon 2014, and WankerCon 2015, and CouchPotatoCon 2016, and IncontinentDroolerCon 2017...and I've got my tickets for next year, and that Cruise to Cancun where everyone aboard gets a free funny hat and a bottle of Dramamine."

No fan group is complete without a bunch of unsightly, dementedly grinning, porcine-or-gaunt creatures proud to be posing (paying $50 each) with THE LIVING LEGEND or every band member or cast member or, hey, the dead star's grandson or the last surviving stagehand from the classic movie.

A typical Hop Frog lives in a dream world, like a basement or "play room" festooned with POSTERS on the wall, junk on display tables, and Hop Frog crouching in the middle of this swamp of knick-knacks and bric-a-brac giving a satisfied burp

These "REAL" fans pollute the Facebook posts with photos of their latest eBay acquisitions, their immaculate (still in shrink) DVD collections, their shelves of books about their beloved icon, or their fabulous display cabinet of "action figures" like THIS:

That's impressive isn't it? To another ADULT who buys TOYS.

And yet, there will be some supporters giving a "LIKE" and an admiring, "Woo hoo, what a collection!" After all, the important thing is to encourage devotion to Jesus. No, not Jesus. Moses? No, not Moses. Lovable violence-loving Allah? No, not even HIM. Devotion to..."Game of Thrones" or "Harry Potter" or some past-their-prime progrock band of the 60's or Laurel & Hardy or the art of R. Crumb or the joy of "The Brady Bunch." You name it. "Which is YOUR favorite episode of The Monkees and why?"

Facebook entices people to join these GROUPS. Sort of like Scientologists or Hare Krishnas accosting you on the sidewalk: "Over here...you'll LIKE this...you're INTERESTED, aren't you?"

Usually within a week or two of joining the group, you have to SNOOZE the group or just LOSE the group, and find yourself thinking of what William Shatner once said about Trekkies (yes, they hate being called that, so I'll call them that):

"GET A LIFE, will you people? I mean, for crying out loud, it's just a TV show! I mean, look at you, look at the way you're dressed! You've turned an enjoyable little job, that I did as a lark for a few years, into a COLOSSAL WASTE OF TIME! I mean, how old are you people? What have you done with yourselves? There's a whole world out there! When I was your age, I didn't watch television! I LIVED! So... move out of your parent's basements! And get your own apartments and GROW THE HELL UP! I mean, it's just a TV show dammit, IT'S JUST A TV SHOW!"

Or a movie. A warning sign is when someone boasts of seeing "2001 A Space Odyssey" 500 times. Or every episode of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" 10 times each. Or says they have TWO sets of memorabilia, one to play with, and the other SEALED.

Look, I do know something about TRIVIA, since I've written books on pop culture. I like to think that my books answered obvious questions, entertained, pointed out why the subject was worth any attention at all, and did NOT go into grotesque and obsessive detail beyond reasonable interest. Professionals know the line. Take IMDB, which gives you all the FACTS you want on movies, and is run by professionals and doesn't get neurotic.

I found the Shatner lines NOT on some moron's blog, but on a professional site devoted to "Saturday Night Live" scripts (reprinting them with the writer credits. Did you know this infamous "Star Trek" sketch was co-written by Bob Odenkirk and Judd Apatow?) There's a big difference between professionals and fanboys, and between a museum and a basement full of crap somebody bought on eBay.

PS, to the sad, sad, SAD, SAD, REALLY PATHETIC D-listers who joined FACEBOOK thinking they were going to network, get thousands of fans to buy their 8x10's and somehow get somewhere by showing they are still alive...it hasn't worked has it? All you've got are some sad, sad, SAD, SAD, REALLY PATHETIC fanboys trying to get you to notice them. Which is proof that you are all nowhere except in the limbo of misplaced ego, and the purgatory of being a clue on Trivial Pursuit. Keep those "nice" comments coming. Ah, look at all the lonely people...

Ever Wonder what a Boxer Smells Like? -- mmm, Muhammad Ali fragrance

The estates of stars such as Michael Jackson, Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe and Muhammad Ali are not necessarily concerned with legacy. They are concerned with PROFIT.

Fortunately "fans" who idolize icons of this type are pretty dumb. These icons might be framed in pictures on the wall high above the ones of JESUS or ALLAH. After all, the chumps have actually SEEN Michael Jackson and Muhammad Ali. They have NOT seen Jesus or Allah. (If they have, they have also likely blown themselves to pieces in service of their Lords, and in a fight against heathens).

Even people who aren't stupid get caught up in this idolatry. I quote a Jimmy Webb song: "HELL, I'll buy anything that the Colonel will sell. I know that it's wrong, but I can't set him free. Can I tell you a story about ELVIS AND ME?"

From Facebook, here's an ad I saw today promoting Muhammad Ali "LEGACY" fragrance, which naturally comes in a bottle with a simulated autograph on it, sure to be a collectors item.

You'd think there might be some negative comments from Ali fans, but no, any "trolls" daring to point out how wrong this is, were quickly shouted down, and the majority shouted the equivalent of ALLAH AKBAR or JESUS SAVES. Like, "Float like a Butterfly Sting like a Bee" or "He's THE GREATEST."

To these idiots, it would be sacrilege to complain about how a beloved ICON is being misused. We are supposed to WORSHIP our ICONS, right?

It somebody wants to wear Batman underpants, or use Bieber Cologne, or create a shrine in the basement full of Marvel "action figures" and posters and carefully preserved in plastic comic books, let them. Sure. And if the celebrity is DEAD? Well, the celebrity can't complain and say, "Look, I draw the line on some bottle of ick that I never use. I don't like COLOGNE. I don't like the idea of men being offensively effeminate. When you meet people, you shouldn't be smelling them a mile away first."

Look, no less a commercial icon than Gene Simmons once told me he drew the line. He was talking to me once about how he could look out at a stadium full of the KISS ARMY, and it was a big thrill. I said, "Like, if you're singing a ballad, you see a zillion flames in the air from people holding KISS lighters?" He frowned. "Now why would I want that? I'd rather sell something else. Why would I want to sell some dangerous thing where you could burn yourself? And why not be original?"

You can bet that once Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley are gone, there will be KISS lighters. That is, if their estate is as crass as the Muhammad Ali estate.

You'll notice that I spelled his name correctly. It irritates me how often it's Mohammed or Mohammud or whatever. When he changed his name, he should've said, "I'm not Cassius Clay anymore...and when you use my new chosen name, SPELL IT RIGHT!"

The reason this ridiculous cologne annoys me is more than my general hatred of cologne, or the whole idea that anyone should think that any kind of smell is going to interest, arouse or please EVERY person they meet. It's more than my disgust over magazines that reek with "sample" ads. After all, you didn't read me griping when Just a Beeper (er, Justin Bieber) was hawking his cologne which was higher in price than some people make at their job in a week.

No, THIS got to me because Muhammad Ali, more than Presley or Jackson, means something to me. Means something to the world. Ali, despite his faults, was a great man. I don't need to go into all the reasons why. For me, he was The Greatest. I grew up with him and The Beatles. (Funny, he met them in Miami and took some promo photos and then asked, "Who were those faggots?")

I rooted for him. Beat Quarry. Beat Williams. Beat Frazier...well, beat Frazier then next time. GOOD, beat Norton. Well, beat Norton the next time. GOOD. Like Billy Joel, who sang, "Ali don't you go downtown, you've given up another round again..." I worried about him. I forgave him cuffing the back of an opponent's head and taking a breather. Like everyone else, I was amazed when he found a way of beating George Foreman. I ignored the easy fights he sometimes took, going the distance with some pretty ordinary pugs. And yes, there was the sad, sad Holmes fight, and his brave return to come up short against Berbick. He remained The Greatest. He remained glib and amusing, but in those last years, he had a spokesperson to talk for him. This included his remarks on what a true Muslim is, and is not.

But I'll tell you this, too, in total honesty. I never ONCE wondered what he smelled like.

I don't care if this amber jar smells like honey, or butter, or butterflies. I don't care whether you put it on and it has a nice STING to it. To me, it just plain stinks. The goofy collectible junk like a boxing glove with a simulated autograph, or a framed poster, or some oil painting done by a hacky artist who uses garish colors...buy that crap, because it goes into a cabinet or on a wall. It doesn't hang in the air like pollution.

Poem for St. Patrick

Odd isn't, we celebrate St. Patrick on the day of his death: March 17, 461.

To be fair, nobody knows his birthday. Back then you couldn't Google "Maewyn Succat" and get all his public records, including a scan of his driver's license, medical forms and voter registration.

The limerick below? I know, a day late. Well, I couldn't really concentrate yesterday because the asshole upstairs was honoring St. Patrick's Day by having a bunch of bellicose bellowers over, and scraping furniture all day long (what, a carpet rule, never mind THAT). It's always NICE when somebody else's rudness must be tolerated, and things YOU want to do have to be abandoned. Like, writing.

So today it's back to writing...and letting the mind wander and write stuff on its own.

The Limerick is credited to the town in Ireland, the father of the limerick is Edward Lear (of the U.K.) and the patron saint of funny verse is Spike Milligan.

ST. PATRICK, MAKER OF MIRACLES

We all must admire Saint Patrick
(It’s true even if you’re not cat’lic)
He said “On your knees,
Look what comes in threes!”
THREE miracles, wow what a hat trick!

As long as you're here, how about the parrot? It was drawn by...EDWARD LEAR in 1830, some 16 years before he published his book of limericks. Lear was quite a fascinating fellow. He was the last of 21 children, and ended up being raised by an older sister, old enough to be his mother. He first found acclaim with a book that illustrated varieties of parrots. Unlike most artists of the time, he did not work from dead parrots. Or dead animals in general. He was fortunate enough to have access to an aviary.

Unlike the Minister of Silly Walks, Edward's physical problems were real, and not funny. He was tormented by epilepsy. Fortunately, he seemed to be able to sense when a seizure was coming on, and find some privacy. Despite this, and other health woes, Lear was a world traveler. A lifelong bachelor, this owl never did find his pussycat, and aside from proposing to one woman twice, only to get a pair of Oh No's, his main interest was a male who simply was not interested.

The limericks Lear published were illustrated in a comic style far different from the lifelike one he used for his nature studies. While it's the limericks that brought him enduring fame, he thought of himself as a painter, and hoped that his watercolors and oil paintings would be critically acclaimed (which they were), and placed in museums (some are), and put his name in prominent art books (well...)

Comedian Mike McDonald was 63

You saw Mike McDonald dozens of times. Chances are, you just don't remember the name. After all, it's way too common. If you Google "Mike McDonald" to see a photo of him, you'll get all kinds of people making faces and posturing, and about 50 pictures of a 28 year-old poker player by that name, but it'll take a while to find...

Now it rings a bell, or buzzes the eyeballs.

Mike died yesterday, March 17th, St. Patrick's Day, at 63.

Mike was a bit like my late friend Richard Jeni (who didn't make it into his 60's because his bipolar issues were much more severe than Mike's). Both Richard and Mike could do a killer 8 minutes on a late night talk show, and few would remember it the next day. Unlike Kinison or Emo or some of the others of that late 80's fraternity, Mike looked and acted "normal." Like Richard Jeni, who was always desperately looking for a hook (Richard tried to hang something on being dubbed "The Boy from New York City") Mike, the guy from Canada, looked and acted too normal. He was just...funny.

Yes, I probably quoted a McDonald joke or two in RAVE. After all, Mike was doing well enough to get his own SHOWTIME specials (and also specials aired on Canada's CBC). But frankly even I don't remember his shot at a sitcom in 1989, "Mosquito Lake." Let's say he didn't exactly graduate from stand-up to sitcom in the same way as fairly ordinary looking contemporaries Tim Allen and Jerry Seinfeld did.

Mike continued on, journeyman comedian and actor, till he ran into health problems with Hep C in 2011. Health coverage in America being what it is, he talked about selling his California home and moving back to health-insurance-friendly Canada.

While waiting for a liver transplant, friends and fans were raising money for his health care needs. He did get his operation in 2013, and though thinner and looking a bit like James Whitmore, was back on stage making people laugh.

What can you say? The laughs last There's no last laugh...when you can still see a comedian perform via DVD, CD or YouTube. But it would be nice to know you could maybe email the website or snail mail the star and say, "I just saw..." and "I loved the bit when..." But Mike can't hear the laughter now, and his wife is missing him a million times more than we are today.

Vinyl is like Jesus - NOT COMING BACK

Among the phrases I hate...which includes:

"Thanks for SHARING 2gb of music on WeTransfer," and "music should be free" and "We at the RIAA care," is: "vinyl is coming back!"

NO. It is NOT. As much as Barnes & Noble wishes it was so, it is NOT. They're desperate, and they don't want to close more stores, but selling "collector" vinyl in shops OR online is not going to keep their boat afloat. They are like France, hoping Hitler won't invade. Make that Mussolini, aka Jeff Bezos. Sorry, THIS is NOT going to HELP:

Idiots point to nonsense like this and say, "Vinyl is coming back!" People who say this are even loopier than the assholes who keep saying, "UFO's are real. There are sightings most EVERY night!" To the UFO jerks, Don Henley pointedly sang, "They're not here, they're not coming." And if he didn't give up years ago when he groused about Internet piracy and then didn't follow through, he'd sing the same thing about vinyl. "IT'S NOT COMING BACK."

Why not? Piracy. It's been acknowledged that most major retailers don't stock CD's. If they do, they devote very little space to them, and only offer the absolute best sellers, preferably the expensive box sets sold as gifts. Piracy is several generations growing up knowing how to GOOGLE the "free" music, and use GOOGLE's Blogspot to get just about any back-catalog item they want. If takedowns on the latest releases stop the latest Adele or Sam Smith or Taylor Swift item, the "lovers of free" know which private forums, which Croatian and Russian blogs, and which torrents to go to, so that "the MAN' doesn't "ruin the FUN."

These days, DVDs and CDs sometimes come with a download code, so that the consumer can also have a digital version for the all-important cellphone or laptop.

These novelty releases on vinyl may be flashy, but they appeal to a very small audience of hipsters (make that pseudo-hipsters) and arrogant audiophiles (make that pseudo-audiophiles) who like to show off their BOSE shit and pretend they appreciate fine sound while munching their Fritos. Most people can't afford the connoisseur's brand of turntable and cartridge, and frankly, people who have always had a turntable and are past 40, or 50, prefer the convenience of mp3 or CDs rather than flipping vinyl every 20 minutes, being annoyed by scratches and ticks, and having to change cartridges and needles.

Most people aren't impressed by the weight of new vinyl, and are disgusted by the inflated price. Most people are rather sophisticated now, and don't really give a damn for "record store day" items on funny-colored vinyl. The "picture disc" was a novelty what, 40 years ago? Today you can go on eBay, or go to a thrift shop, and find more than enough great vinyl in great condition. And nobody's doing it.

The disrespect of music has reached epidemic proportions. People who should know better, seem to think that piracy is a good thing, and that it only hurts the evil "record labels." No, the more people get FREE the less they buy. When entire discographies and box sets are tossed around in shoutboxes and torrents, and everyone has a 2TB drive loaded with stuff they'll NEVER get around to hearing, why buy something? Most anything you can buy is being given away for a "nice comment" or two by some conspirator who pretends to "love music" and "support the artist." Yeah, you see the backhand remark, "If you like it buy it," right next to the Paypal "tip jar" to thank the uploader for his "hard work."

Tell me the "evil record label" is more disgusting than the blogger who is making money by using Rapidgator and other premium cloud services, and getting paid for every download and every banner ad. People often say "thanks for sharing" to smug parasites who are doing it for the ROYALTIES they get, and shrugging that Taylor Swift doesn't need the money...and neither does her record label, the secretaries and janitors working in the office, or anyone else. The parasites also say, regarding old vinyl, "I'm giving it away because it's not on CD." Well, no, not when you're giving it away. I've worked for CD re-issue labels, writing album notes, and that's a dying field because these companies go under so often. They can't sell 500 or 1000 copies, even, when the album is all over the Internet. If they spend the time to re-master, and add bonus tracks, ha ha ho ho hee hee, the pirates instantly offer it in FLAC. A big "Fuck You, Sundazed," "Fuck you Rhino," and "Fuck You Bear Family." You people don't deserve to be in business preserving music in is most pristine form.

The answer to all this is for the RIAA, IFPI, GEMA and the rest to take piracy a lot more seriously, use interns if necessary to keep pressure on problem bloggers and forums, and lobby for better protection and higher penalties from rogue websites, especially ones in Putinville. Yes, Putin LOVES the way idiot bloggers give away American and British music, crippling the industry. The record industry should be thinking about the strategy for making sure that sites in Putinville are blocked and the money trail choked. There should be NO way that Rapidgator and similar sites can do business and send money to pirates via Paypal or a Google wallet.

"Oh, short-sighted businessmen," Joni Mitchell sang. Yes, it's preferable to ignore or to dream. Pretend that Spotify, notorious for NOT paying good royalties, is the answer. Pretend that YouTube, which also gives out a few pennies per thousands of downloads, is a way for musicians to thrive. And yes, pretend that VINYL IS COMING BACK...when it is NOT.

Like Spike Jones did to Hitler

Who knows.

It could work.

Every time the KGB stooge shows his face, he gets razzed, spit on, or called "Silly Pooty."

Stephen Hawking was thinking about the End of the World

Towards the end of his life, Stephen Hawking seemed to be less involved in theorizing about the universe, than thinking about how soon life would become extinct on this violent, polluted planet.

Reports from him were, "Hawking on how the world will end..." and "Scientist on which catastrophe will be fatal to human survival," etc.

As he deteriorated, so did the planet. Let's remember that Lou Cherig's Disease (ALS) was unknown until the 20th Century. Look in any old book for Parkinsons, Alzheimers, CMT, IBD and AIDS and the rest of it...not there. Those terms are as new as "climate change" and "mass shootings in schools" and ISIS and Boko Haram.

Into symbolism?

Then these two pix of Stephen Hawking represent the quality of life on this planet in 1968 and in 2018.

On the lighter side, you have to laugh at how that pretentious asshole Neil DeAsshole Tyson chose to acknowledge the passing of Hawking.

Rest in Peace? Hell no. Way too simple. Try THIS for eloquence.

Damn, that's JUST what I was going to say....

A long way from Zapruder or, "Do you have a picture of the pain?"

One of the joys of the Internet, Twitter, Instagram, and everyone owning a cellphone, is that curiosity over a hideous tragedy can be instantly seen...and sated.

Years ago, a fellow named Zapruder was one of the few who was able to afford an 8mm camera and a roll of 50 foot film. And so, unfortunately, his grainy footage of the JFK assassination, some of it obscured by a billboard sign, is all we have.

Phil Ochs wrote a song called "Crucifixion" about the death of the President, and about the world spinning madly, and at one point he sings:

"How did it happen? I hope his suffering was small.
Tell me every detail, I've got to know it all,
And do you have a picture of the pain?

Now, we usually do. Last night, when a sight-seeing helicopter landed in the East River, somebody had the cellphone footage on Twitter almost instantly.

The people inside the helicopter? The ones who died? One of the five took a moment to post a happy thumbs-up to Instagram.

I did one of these helicopter deals. It was a birthday celebration. I sort of dared end my life on my birthday, just to get a bird's eye view of the Hudson River and the city. This was pre-Instagram and Twitter and uploading every detail of one's life as it happens.

These days, even the most obscure victim, and the most obscure maniac who suddenly went berserk in a homicidal rage...can be instantly identified because they both (altogether now) HAVE FACEBOOK ACCOUNTS. Their photos in the gruesome newspaper article bear the byline: FACEBOOK.

Reporters don't have to go running around asking next of kin for a photo. Reporters don't even have to do research beyond checking what's been posted for everyone's amusement on Twitter or other social media sites. Somebody dies? Quote the Tweets.

And then? Forget about it. "Do you have a picture of the pain?" is not even asked, because it's almost a given. Yes, you WILL see a picture of the pain. And it's been a long, long time since 1963, when newspapers, magazines and TV networks refused to run the Zapruder film or frames from it, because it was too gruesome. Now, the picture of the pain is being given to people who are already numb from seeing so much pain. The image merely satisfies idle curiosity, and most of each day's atrocities aren't even given a blink. "Oh, car crash, acid attack, bomb explosion...seen that." Fortunately not "been there." Just "seen that."

Daylight Savings Time

When I was a naive teenager, I wrote to my ELECTED OFFICIALS and asked why we don't abolish Daylight Savings Time.

I wrote, "Instead of moving clocks around and playing tricks, why don't we move ourselves? If people want more daylight, then they can simply change their office hours. They can state, "As of March 10th, our hours will be 8 to 4 instead of 9 to 5."

Those businesses and stores that want to keep their normal hours can do so. Government buildings and schools can switch if they choose. It's about choice in a Democracy. Isn't it?

I think this was the first time I recognized crapathy-speak. As in, "Thank you, Mr. Smith, for your interesting suggestion. I will take it under consideration." And/or, "I appreciated hearing your views, and I will take the appropriate action."

SWAMP FOX - Leslie Nielsen

Funny (really, kinda), that most people think "FUNNY!" when they remember Leslie Nielsen.

The fans of "Police Squad" probably have no idea Leslie once starred in the very type of show he parodied, "The New Breed." Leslie was also a guest star on so many 60's and 70's cop and detective shows, often as the bad guy.

But those of a "certain age" remember him best as a stalwart hero. He was Commander Adams in the classic sci-fi film "Forbidden Planet," and on the small screen, Francis Marion, The Swamp Fox of the American Revolution...aggravating the British who were already miserable just being in South Carolina.

I got a chance to meet Leslie at a Book Expo convention in Florida, and it really was a thrill. Yes, there was Clayton Moore ("The Lone Ranger"), and Fess Parker ("Davy Crockett") and "The Lawman" and "The Tall Man" and Maverick, Marshall Dillon, Roy Rogers, and two dozen more riding their horses into our living rooms. But "The Swamp Fox" (remember that catchy, stupid theme song) was my favorite.

The Nor'Easter and the Outages

I do NOT understand this.

What is it about a snowstorm that makes so many people announce they're gay?

No, Nothing about THIS year's Academy Awards impressed me

AND THE AWARD FOR "BEST PICTURE" GOES TO....

"TRY TO REMEMBER..." the comedy songs of HARVEY SCHMIDT

Today's obituary is for Harvey Schmidt. Most songwriters are unknown, so the headline has to be the Broadway show, or in Schmidt's case, the ONE song EVERYONE knows:

The obit doesn't mention if Schmidt had a family. Barely mentioned a few of the other, lesser Broadway shows he and his writing partner Tom Jones wrote, and concentrated mainly on "The Fantasticks," which played thousands and thousands of performances mainly because it was in a theater with less than 150 seats, and everyone wondered what kind of show would have "Try to Remember" as the highlight.

Actually, Schmidt & Jones wrote much better songs than that one. Among them, were songs they wrote just starting out, when cabaret reviews were popular. In the days before comedy clubs and "pay-to-play" spots for singers, a lot of writers and performers tried out for sketch comedy & song shows which needed fresh material annually. Paul Lynde came out of "New Faces" and Ben Bagley's "Shoestring Revue" produced stars as well, and you might say that the Lorne Michaels of his day (late 50's early 60's) was Julius Monk. Monk produced shows at "Upstairs at the Downstairs" along with Rod Warren and then moved to the Plaza Hotel. He also ran "Le Ruban Bleu."

Monk and Warren hired new talents including Madeline Kahn, Lily Tomlin, Ronny Graham and Nancy Dussault. Bill Dana had an early sketch performed in the "Demi-Dozen" show, and also in that show, a pair of novelty songs premiered by Schmidt & Jones. "The Holy Man and the New Yorker" was a vivid satire that ended up far more poignant than the sappy "Try to Remember." "The Race of the Lexington Avenue Express" was a highlight of the evening, a comic whoop performed by Jane Connell.

Quite a few of the Monk performers chose to remain in theater, notably Mary Louise Wilson. Some moved behind the scenes a bit. Budding star Gerry Matthews voiced "Sugar Bear" in cartoons, and now runs a museum of oddities in Walla Walla, Washington. Jack Fletcher may have become best known for TV commercials. And rather than become the effete Leiber & Stoller for novelty 45's, a very iffy genre for radio disc jockeys, they moved on to write "The Fantasticks" and some Broadway shows, and leave funny songs behind.

Pat Paulsen once mentioned to me that he would've had to take a day job if he relied on the royalties for "(I Fell in a Vat of) Chocolate," a novelty song that appeared on a Smothers Brothers comedy album. He got even less money for his wonderful novelty about a mild man who turns into a vampire, "Mediocre Fred."

With few exceptions (Tom Lehrer and Allan Sherman come to mind, and "Monster Mash," "The M.T.A. Song" (the Kingston Trio hit about a guy stranded on the Boston subway) and "Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini") the "comic song" has never been considered the art form that it is, and it's not been a way to make money or become famous. Or semi-famous in the case of "hey, he wrote "Try to Remember" Schmidt."

At the same time Schmidt & Jones wrote for the Monk shows, so did Michael Brown, Dion McGregor, and Ray Jessel, among many other forgotten names. Ray Jessel, well over 40 years after writing about a drug addicted rich girl being given a fix by her nanny, turned up on "America's Got Talent." He presented himself as just a whimsical old man who liked to write songs. He sat down at the piano, and to the shock of everyone, knocked off a hilarious song about dating a woman who had everything...including a penis.

As you'd expect with novelty songs, some were unamused and in the PC-age, offended. Wasn't it funny that Ray went out with a woman who did NOT bother to mention being a transvestite or pre-op transsexual? NO. Wasn't it funny that the kicker was Ray's complaint that hers was bigger than his? NO. The performance is still on YouTube but...Ray Jessel was actually banned from the show. He was not allowed to come back and sing another novelty song. Not even one that was vetted beforehand? NO.

So it is, that a lot of writers accept the fact that they will never become famous for what singers record, and few even glance at the credits (especially now that there are mp3 files that don't bother). The solace might be in the money, but there isn't much of that anymore, in this age of Piracy and Spotify. "Try to Remember" the days when you could get a smile and surprise hearing a novelty tune on your transistor radio....

Ewww, Shouldn't Quotes be...QUOTABLE?

You know "Entertainment Weekly?"

It goes by its appropriate initials: EW. As in Ewwwwwwwwww. You're supposed to read it to find out which awful TV shows, streaming TV shows, hack novels, sappy comic book hero movies and dumb video games you should waste time watching.

And CELEBRITIES. Oh those celebrities. Who can't get enough of "hunks" with stubble on, or dimwit starlets with no stubble anywhere and the wardrobe malfunctions to prove it?

The staff, from the editor on down, seem to be James Corden-types...campy, "flamboyant," and fawning over anything and everything celebrities do or doo-doo.

Since the Millennials and mouth-breathers who read this have low attention spans, they run GIANT pictures and not much text.

One of their wasted pages each issue is for "Sound Bites," culled from the witless movies and TV shows the staff has giggle and drooled over. But shouldn't sound bites have...BITE?

In their "Best of 2017" issue, the YEAR'S BEST quotes included:

"Tell Cersei. I want her to know it was me."

You can't wait to quote that to your friends, right? Diana Rigg said that, as a character in "Game of Thrones." Oh. That makes all the difference in the world. Doesn't it? Another gem: "He's a friend from work." Yes, that's one of the YEAR'S BEST. See, Thor said it about Hulk in "Thor: Ragnarok." Oh. Ha. Once you know the context, the quote's wit just drips from it like goo in a Dunkin' donut.

Can you imagine Diana Rigg's reaction if a fan came up to her and breathlessly quoted, "Tell Cersei. I want her to know it was me." She might very well ask, "What on Earth are you talking about?" And "Brush up your Shakespeare, instead."

Another of the YEAR'S BEST quotes according to Ewwwwww was Bette Midler. What did she say? She said "Shut that crap off!" It was in response to "play-off" music during her apparently long-winded acceptance speech for the needless revival of "Hello Dolly." Did I say needless? James Corden wouldn't. But he's flamboyant. I'm not.

"Shut the crap off!" To paraphrase Groucho after Edgar Kennedy said "Beat it" to him -- "I wish I'd said that. Everyone's repeating it around the club."

I know a bit about quotes worth quoting, as I've compiled several celebrity quote books for Doubleday, Crown and other companies including "Comedy Quote Dictionary" and "Who'd Say That."

Here's an old quote: "If you have to explain it, it's not worth explaining." It's obviously not something said among the simpering simmering staff at Ewwwwwww. Dumbing down magazines is just another reason why people aren't buying them much anymore. It's why "Entertainment Weekly" sneaks those "full year for a dollar" subscription offers. After all, saying, "we get a million hits on our website" could be said of a cat throwing up on YouTube.

Just so you know I'm not kidding about these unfunny and unprofound quotes, here are some of the recent toothless "Sound Bites" pages in Ewwwwwwwww.

Ryan Seacrest Accusations? Just Accusations

Everyone knows Ryan is just an adorable, fun-loving fellow. He should host every quiz show. (Oh, he does). Well, more talk shows, then. And New Year's Eve without Ryan Seacrest would be like Kim Kardashian with clothes on.