ust in time for the summer campaign season, when TV airwaves are inundated with ads touting one candidate over another, a group has produced several videos that show us what politicians would really say if they were truly being honest.
As might be expected, there are plenty of references to campaign donations.
The ads feature a faux candidate “Honest Gil” Fulbright, a very likable fellow who lays the truth out there, and he does such a good job, viewers may still be encouraged to vote for him.
Fulbright even has his own website, where he tells visitors: “I’m running for U.S. Senate in Kentucky, but I’m not going to talk to you about ‘jobs’ and the ‘middle class.’ People without jobs can’t afford to donate to my campaign. And the middle class, well, they’ll be gone soon anyway.”
The group Represent.us is behind the ads, and according to their website, they “are building a non-partisan movement to end the culture of legalized corruption that has come to define modern politics.”
Here’s “Honest Gil” in the first ad, and he doesn’t mind telling you that he’ll go by just about any name, if it keeps the flow of cash going:
The next ad, which may be the best of the three, covers the all important topic of healthcare, and as “Honest Gil” demonstrates, he could use an upgrade in his own coverage, if you’d be so kind as to elect him to office:
The third ad covers “Net Neutrality,” with ol’ Gil sharing his thoughts on those “sweet, sweet campaign donations:
Slate is the MSNBS of online magazines, and, here is the latest outrageous outrage they have discovered. Beware Infant Gender Assignment!
Obstetricians, doctors, and midwives commit this procedure on infants every single day, in every single country. In reality, this treatment is performed almost universally without even asking for the parents’ consent, making this practice all the more insidious. It’s called infant gender assignment: When the doctor holds your child up to the harsh light of the delivery room, looks between its legs, and declares his opinion: It’s a boy or a girl, based on nothing more than a cursory assessment of your offspring’s genitals.
Declares his opinion? And you say this “opinion” is based on something as flimsy as genitals? SHOCKING! I mean, yes, in fact gender IS defined by genitals, just as writing for Slate is defined on absurdity. I am trying to conger up how the “evil” gender assignment goes. The doctor, holds up a child, peers at the genitals, and calmly calls the nurse over.
“Excuse me nurse, but this baby appears to have a penis, do you concur?”
“Why yes doctor, that looks like a penis to me”
“So, this baby then, must be a boy”
“Why yes doctor, yes”
See, this is OUTRAGEOUS! And thankfully, we have an outraged American to expose this shockingly shocking outrageously outrageous outrage! I know I am outraged! and we all should be. I mean think about where this might lead! The Slate piece continues
We tell our children, “You can be anything you want to be.” We say, “A girl can be a doctor, a boy can be a nurse,” but why in the first place must this person be a boy and that person be a girl? Your infant is an infant. Your baby knows nothing of dresses and ties, of makeup and aftershave, of the contemporary social implications of pink and blue. As a newborn, your child’s potential is limitless. The world is full of possibilities that every person deserves to be able to explore freely, receiving equal respect and human dignity while maximizing happiness through individual expression.
Wait, what? How dare this Slate writer call that infant an infant? Who the Hell are they to place that kind of label on that baby? I mean, yes, the fact IS that it is an infant, but facts do not matter. I mean, if a penis or vagina do not have anything to do with gender, then how does a baby actually being a baby mean anything either? But, this is important stuff, it MUST BE because only really important topics are covered in Slate right? Either that or this writer is as crazy as they come
With infant gender assignment, in a single moment your baby’s life is instantly and brutally reduced from such infinite potentials down to one concrete set of expectations and stereotypes, and any behavioral deviation from that will be severely punished—both intentionally through bigotry, and unintentionally through ignorance. That doctor (and the power structure behind him) plays a pivotal role in imposing those limits on helpless infants, without their consent, and without your informed consent as a parent. This issue deserves serious consideration by every parent, because no matter what gender identity your child ultimately adopts, infant gender assignment has effects that will last through their whole life.
See! Your child’s life will be RUINED, R-U-I-N-E-D RUINED if a doctor is allowed to say it is a boy, or it is a girl! Oh there are several layers of KRAZY here folks I mean this MUST be a hoax right? No one could possibly believe the absurdities uttered here right? I mean even Slate must no allow this level of KRAZY right? Wrong!
Why must we force this on kids at birth? What is achieved, besides reinforcing tradition? What could be the harm in letting a child wait to declare for themself who they are, once they’re old enough (which is generally believed to happen around age 2 or 3)?
What insanity is this? When was the last time you, as a parent, grandparent, or uncle as I a witnessed a 2 or 3-year-old “declare themselves”? I doubt anyone has, but what would it sound like? Let us think here.
Think of a family gathering. As the adults are drinking their coffees, here comes young Patrick, age 3. “Excuse me everyone” Patrick says, clinking a fork on a water glass. “I am glad I have you all hear, I have something I need to say. I am, in fact, a girl, or rather a woman, trapped in a little boy’s body. Yes, yes, I do have a penis, but do not label me because of that you genderist bastards! I am woman, hear me roar! So, I have a list of demands here, call them my Gender Justice List if you will.” I have more here, but you will have to wait for the book to be published. it is called “My fight for Gender Justice: How My Inner Vagina and I beat Genderism!”
Of course, that is a bit of absurdity to illustrate how
wrong, foolish, inane, insane, BATSHIT CRAZY this writer really is. Yes, Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs!
Mocking the overly tactical? FUNNY!
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INTERNATIONAL MEN’S DAY
STOP THE HATE!
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THE HILARIOUS WORLD OF ABORTION
WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH AMERICA?
Lap dances for birthdays now? SIGN ME UP!
HOUSTON – A middle school teacher has sashayed her way into a lot of trouble after she allegedly gave one of her students a birthday lap dance in front of the entire class.
Felicia Smith, 42, was charged with improper relationship with student.
According to a male student, “Ms. Smith” grabbed his journal and stopped him from talking to his friends as he walked into his third-period class. He said he sat at his desk, and after the tardy bell rang, she placed a chair in front of the room. Music started playing and the entire class of middle school students began yelling and telling him to sit down. It was his birthday.
The student said he sat down and Ms. Smith gave him a full contact lap dance, rotating her buttocks against him and rubbing her hands all over his body. Ms. Smith also got on her knees in front of him and placed her head between his legs. The student admitted that he slapped Ms. Smith on the buttocks a few times.
At the end of the dance, Ms. Smith wrapped her arms around the student and he gave her bottom another squeeze. She hugged him and said “I love you, baby. Happy birthday,” according to documents.
Just further evidence that I had a rough child hood. Having to walk to school uphill BOTH ways, and not one damn lap dance! I am a victim I tell ya!
Well, it could happen! (via Twitchy)
— OFA (@OFA) March 24, 2014
Go read the rest folks.
90 Miles From Tyranny provides us a funny joke
Sitting together on a train were Pres. Obama, George W. Bush, a little old lady, and a young blonde girl with large breasts.
The train goes into a dark tunnel and a few seconds later There is the sound of a loud slap.
When the train emerges from the tunnel, Obama has a bright red hand print on his cheek.
No one speaks.
The old lady thinks: Obama must have groped the
Blonde in the dark, and she slapped him.
The blonde girl thinks: Obama must have tried
To grope me in the dark, but missed and fondled
The old lady and she slapped him.
Obama thinks: Bush must have groped the blonde in the dark.
She tried to slap him but missed and got me instead.
George Bush thinks: I can’t wait for another tunnel,
So I can slap the shit out of Obama again!!
Sid Caesar, the intelligent and yet nonsensical comic who forever changed the course of television with his groundbreaking 1950s live Saturday night variety shows Your Show of Shows and Caesar’s Hour, has died. He was 91. His friend, Carl Reiner, confirmed the news to The Hollywood Reporter.
“Inarguably he was the greatest single monologist and skit comedian we ever had,” Reiner said in a statement to THR. “Television owes him a debt of gratitude for his pioneering work and the great shows he gave us all. Render onto Caesar what is his due. He deserves real applause from the American people.”
Caesar, who died Wednesday at his longtime home in the Trousdale Estates section of Beverly Hills after a brief illness, was known for his physicality, improvisation, mimicry and his whimsical signature, the double-talk.
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Whether played out in a sketch, pantomime or a full-blown revue, Caesar’s observational humor exposed the truths of everyday life. His two whirlwind variety shows produced writers and performers who set the comic agenda for decades to come – people like Reiner, Woody Allen, Mel Brooks, Neil Simon, Larry Gelbart, Imogene Coca, Nanette Fabray, Howard Morris, Lucille Kallen, Mel Tolkin and Fiddler on the Roof playwright Joseph Stein.
The proof: Reiner developed the classic 1960s sitcom The Dick Van Dyke Show using his Show of Shows experience for comic fodder (the Alan Brady character, played by Reiner, was modeled after Caesar). The 1982 film My Favorite Year, a thinly disguised memoir of life with Caesar during the tumultuous era of live TV, was backed by Brooks and had Joseph Bologna playing the Caesar-like King Kaiser. And Simon re-created the writers room tension of Caesar shows for his 1993 Broadway hit Laughter on the 23rd Floor, starring Nathan Lane as another Caesar stand-in, Max Prince.
In fact, it could be said that Saturday Night Live is a direct descendant of Caesar’s sketch-laden variety shows. He hosted the late-night show in 1983 and was named an honorary castmember.
“Sid Caesar was a giant – maybe the best comedian who every practiced the trade,” Brooks said in a statement. “And I was privileged to be one of his writers and one of his friends.”
Caesar’s live, 90-minute Show of Shows debuted in 1950 when he was 27 and ran through 1954 in an era before cue cards and teleprompters. Its frenetic high-wire uncertainty made for great hilarity and produced back-to-back Emmy wins in 1952 and ’53.
After Your Show of Shows, which ran for 160 episodes, Caesar started Caesar’s Hour. Also live, it collected three Emmys and featured his Show of Show mates Reiner and Morris (Coca left for her own show and was replaced by Fabray). At the time, half of all Americans who owned TV sets tuned in each week to watch the antics of Caesar and his cohorts.
Among the 25 million viewers each week was Albert Einstein, who particularly enjoyed one of Caesar’s stock characters, The Professor, a bluffing German who sounded smart but was not really an expert on anything. The physicist so enjoyed the show that he contacted Caesar’s office to set up a lunch date, but Einstein died in April 1955 before that meeting of the minds could take place.
Caesar’s other characters included space expert Ludwig von Spacebrain, marriage expert Ludwig von Henpecked, nonsensical storyteller Somerset Winterset and one-half of the bickering couple The Hickenloopers.
“All my comedy was character- and plot-driven,” he said in 2003. “I always believed that in art and life, it’s not what you do, it’s the way you do it; it’s not what you say, it’s the way you say it. In the doing, you’ll find your strengths and weaknesses, and you will find your art.”
Caesar also was known for his furious temper and strength. He was known to punch through walls and tear sinks from their moorings. He once punched a horse – a gag Brooks paid homage to in Blazing Saddles. And after one writing session, he dangled Brooks from an 18th-floor hotel room window.
Caesar was nominated for 10 Emmy Awards, winning in 1952 and 1954. He was given the Lifetime Achievement Award in Comedy in 1978 by the Television Hall of Fame.
He was born Isaac Sidney Caesar on Sept. 8, 1922, in Yonkers, N.Y., the youngest of three sons of Jewish immigrant parents who ran a 24-hour luncheonette. He played the clarinet and saxophone and went on to study the sax at the Juilliard School; ultimately, he was good enough to play with the likes of Benny Goodman and Charlie Spivak. While performing at shows, Caesar observed the comics and realized that stand-up was his true bent. One night he was asked to help out with a skit, thus beginning a comic career that lasted more than a half-century.
Caesar joined the Coast Guard and was based in Brooklyn during World War II. While in the military, he formed a band with composer Vernon Duke (“April in Paris”) and made his stage debut in a show, Tars and Spars, about a coast guardsman on shore duty for years. Caesar reprised his role in that revue for a 1946 musical-comedy adaptation at Columbia Pictures.
After his stint in Hollywood, Caesar returned to New York and landed a gig as the opening act for Joe E. Lewis at the legendary Copacabana nightclub. He performed in the Broadway revue Make Mine Manhattan, which featured “The Five Dollar Date,” one of his signature pieces in which he sang, did sound effects and double-talked – using nonsensical utterances that sound like French, German, Japanese, Italian and other languages (in real life, he spoke English and Yiddish).
Caesar’s first foray into TV came in 1949 with The Admiral Broadway Revue, an hourlong show that brought he and Coca together. Conceived to sell Admiral television sets, the show aired simultaneously on NBC and the Dumont networks and was a smash hit, drawing nearly as many viewers as the one starring “Mr. Television” Milton Berle. But with the popularity of the show, Admiral couldn’t make TVs fast enough to meet demand, so the company dropped its sponsorship and the show was canceled.
NBC chairman Pat Weaver, who later created the Today show and The Tonight Show, approached the producers about having Caesar and Coca star in a similar series. That project came to be Your Show of Shows, which debuted in February 1950 as a 90-minute variety program that aired at 9 p.m. Eastern time (6 p.m. Pacific) for a mind-boggling 39 live shows a season for four seasons. Looking to avoid another Admiral debacle, it was the first program not to rely on a single sponsor.
The show’s crazy pace led to consequences. “Nearly everyone on our staff at Your Show of Shows was in analysis,” he recalled in his 1983 autobiography, Where Have I Been? “We spent a lot of time comparing our experiences with our doctors, which led to many funny psychiatrist skits in the show.”
At age 30, Caesar was earning a million dollars a year, but he was drinking two bottles of Scotch a day and dependent on barbiturates.
It took decades for him to hit bottom. In 1977, he was in Regina, Canada, doing Simon’s The Last of the Red Hot Lovers onstage when he said his mind went blank. He walked offstage, checked into a hospital and went cold turkey.
His battle with drugs and alcohol was well-documented in his autobiography. “I remember how I slipped further into darkness,” he wrote. “I kept working in films, on the stage and in TV – but I wasn’t really there. It was like a 21-year blackout.”
The era of live television was ending, and so too was Caesar’s Hour, with Lawrence Welk providing stiff competition in 1957. “I was exhausted,” Caesar said.
He followed with Sid Caesar Invites You in 1958, briefly reuniting Caesar and Coca, and The Sid Caesar Show, a half-hour sketch comedy show that aired every second Thursday on ABC, alternating with Edie Adams’ show Here’s Edie, in 1963-64. But Caesar would never be the force on television that he was.
In 1962-63, he had seven or eight roles in the Broadway musical comedy Little Me, written by Simon. He continued to appear in occasional films and TV movies through the 1970s and ’80s, most memorably as dentist Melville Crump (with Adams as his wife) in It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (1963) and as a Hollywood studio head in Brooks’ Silent Movie (1976). He played Coach Calhoun in the two Grease movies and was a caveman in Brooks’ History of the World: Part I (1981).
Caesar also showed up as Elliott Gould’s uncle in Over the Brooklyn Bridge (1984), was the Gryphon in Irwin Allen’s 1985 telefilm Alice in Wonderland and starred in a 1985 episode of the Steven Spielberg anthology series Amazing Stories. He noticed at the time that comedy was changing.
“Things now have to be gross to laugh at,” he lamented in 1984 while announcing a scholarship in his name at the UCLA College of Fine Arts.
In 1997, he appeared in the film Vegas Vacation and made a guest appearance as Uncle Harold on TV’s Mad About You, and a year later he appeared with old friend Morris in The Wonderful Ice Cream Suit, based on a Ray Bradbury novel.
Caesar was feted in 2001 in the Showtime documentary Hail Sid Caesar! The Golden Age of Comedy. At the 2006 TV Land Awards, he was presented with the Pioneer Award and performed his famous double-talk for more than five minutes.
Summing up his philosophy, The King of Saturday Night once said: “People are funny, not things. People will always eat, brush their teeth, try to go out with a girl, and that’s where they’re funny. They’re not funny chasing cars and firing guns. The perversion is getting out of hand. We’re developing a world view that’s totally false.”
His wife of 67 years, Florence, died in 2010. Survivors include his daughters Michele and Karen and son Rick.