Most Obnoxious: Fox News or MSNBC?

Fox News' O'Reilly and Hannity;

Obnoxious yes, but will they earn the brass ring?

At long last, everyone, it's time to vote!

Obama vs. Romney? 

Nah, we were sick of those two long ago.

It's time to vote in the all-important election to determine which of America's two most highly celebrated highly biased television networks is the most obnoxious:

Fox News or MSNBC?

In the right corner we have Fox News, that handmaiden of the Republican Party owned by Rupert Murdoch,  that hand queen of the Republican Party. These guys are so ideologically pure they make a right on a red and everywhere else too.  Fox News is as American as mom, apple pie, and an AK-47,  especially when mom is blasting away at the apple pie with the  AK-47 as target practice in case President Obama shows up to take away her guns. 

In the left corner we have MSNBC, whose slogan is "Lean Forward As Long As You Lean Left." MSNBC believes strongly that the voices of all Americans should be heard except those of Republicans in the House of Representatives.  Ready to right every social wrong and always on the side of the angels, these guys prove demonstrably how hanging with the Devil might be a hell of lot more fun.

Ten Reasons Why Fox News is the Most Obnoxious

1) Fair and Balanced?   Fox News is about as "fair" as Hurricane Sandy and as "balanced" as Governor Christie on the opposite end of a seesaw with .... well, uh .... just about anybody.

2) Use of Sarah Palin as expert commentator highly questionable when the far more intellectual and articulate Victoria Jackson  continuously available.

3) Fox Special Reports all produced by ghost of P.T Barnum.

4) Bill O' Reilly?   A dick.   An entertaining dick to be sure, but a dick.

5) Miss Alan Colmes, Sean Hannity?  Without the goofiest looking liberal in America to make you look marginally handsome,  you have all the charisma of a  slab of meat but without the political insight. 

6) Fox All-Stars =  Fox Fallen Stars when Chris Wallace and Brit Hume aboard the panel. 

7) Cynical use of babe anchors like Megyn Kelly calculated to mislead naive and impressionable younger viewers into believing there are such things in real life as Republican women who are hot.

8)  Sneering  condescending manner in which President Obama frequently referred to as "this President."  C'mon,  guys, haven't you ever considered the possibility that Mr. Obama may actually be "That President!"?

9) Attention, Charles Krauthammer: There are  expressions of which the human face is capable other than  grimacing.  Please try one next time you're telling Bret Baier how it's been a such "a  pleasure" to be spouting ideology with him.

10) Dennis Miller just as unfunny, self-absorbed, and annoying as a conservative as he was as a liberal.  Well, at least he's consistent in some things.

Ten Reasons Why MSNBC is the Most Obnoxious

1) Unlike Fox News, does not claim to be Fair and Balanced.  Virtually screams at you right up front that it is "Obama's Bitch."

2) Frothy the Showman:  Chris Matthews regularly raises frothing at the mouth to high art as he jaws open his show, interviews himself,  has dinner with himself commenting on the excellent dinner conversation, goes home with himself, has sex with himself, and goes to bed.   And the next day, he wakes up ....

3) And the Emmy  for "Most Blatant Misuse of High Intellect for the Purpose of Haranguing and Condescending Rather than Informing and Educating"  goes to .... once again ....  Rachel Maddow!

4) The Place for Politics?  I'll say!  Certainly not the place for anything nobler.

5) Advanced supercomputer required to count number of times in one hour Al Sharpton says "Mr. Romney has to be desperate to engage in such dishonest, fraudulent, sleazy, disgusting, and highly fattening campaign tactics as calling President Obama a "boinker!"

6) Advanced supercomputer required to count number of times in one hour Sharpton guests such as Dana Milbank, Catherine Crier, and even Ed Rendell  rocket back "Absolutely, Rev!" as if  programmed to do so by Rudd Weatherwax, legendary trainer of Lassie.

7) Sure as hell wouldn't want to be caught dead by Melissa Harris-Perry reading a copy of Atlas Shrugged when taking one of her political science courses at Tulane University.

8) Martin Bashir.  Cool accent!  Uncool annoying bias.

9)  Guys, we used to be able to make fun of Fox News with impunity and without reservation. We had them looking like the idiots they are,  and you felt a need to copy them?!!

10) Chris Matthews?  Not a dick.  But can do a really  good impression of one. 


So why should you vote in the Great Fox News vs. MSNBC Election? It's not as if there will be a winner, will there?

Well, remember what it is that you are voting for.  You're voting to determine which of the two television networks is the most obnoxious, not which one is obnoxious while the other isn't. That means that whenever you may watch one ---  should you ever watch one at all --- you already know that what you're watching is opinion/entertainment/bullshit and not at all the news. 

And that, at the very least, makes you a winner!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MSNBC's Sharpton and Matthews

  







 "Did they win the contest, Chris?"                      
                                                                             "No, Rev.  We have not yet begun to annoy!"                                                                  

Firing My Muse

Like most writers, I have my own personal Muse.  

And sometimes when I sit down to write the Muse is with me and other times, quite frankly, the Muse is not.  The problem is the better times are when the Muse is not.  And finally I resolved to do  something about it.

"Muse," I called out yesterday afternoon.  "Could you come in here please?"

"I'm coming, Boss," I heard the Muse say from inside the kitchen. "Just makin' me a sandwich, be right there.  Hey!  We're outta beer!"

"That's not surprising what with the blow-out you had here last Saturday," I said.  "Say, did you ever replace the batteries to the vibrating  ..."

"I'll get to it, I toldja!"

With that, the Muse stumbled into the office, spilled a bit of coffee on the rug, and plonked down on the sofa.

"Really, Muse?  Pajamas?  At this time of day?" 

"Why not?  You know I don't work on a schedule.  I'm a Muse, I work when the Muse strikes me." 

"Then you must have an even lazier Muse than I do!"

"That's hilarious, Boss. Jokes like that show how badly you need me!" 

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about today, Muse.  Frankly you don't seem to be supplying me with much Inspiration these days."

"What the hell are you talking about, Boss?!!  What about my brilliant idea of people coming with information labels on 'em,  like food does?"

"You mean labels like Supplies Less than 2% Minimum Daily Requirement of Mental Stimulation or Better if Used With Eyes Closed And Bag Over Head?"

"Yeah, that's the one!"

"Oh, I tried it.  I got fewer page views than a book in Sarah Palin's house." 

"Boss, you're nuts!  How about all the Inspiration I'm constantly giving you in the shower?" 

"If you call turning the hot water on and off, goosing me, and making that sound like the phone's ringing Inspiration!" 

"So you want me to spoon feed you comedy, Boss?  Okay,  how's this:  Parody Mitt Romney's criticizing Obama's ideas while offering none of his own by having Romney sing Groucho Marx's Whatever It Is, I'm Against It!" 

"Muse, you gave me that one three days ago. Turned out so abysmally Groucho Marx disowned it!"

"It did sound familiar. But you're not bein' fair, Boss! Look at all the things I do for you!"

"Yeah ...  drink my vodka, eat me out of house and home, and supply me with ideas like How about we have Ginger and Mary Ann mud wrestling?"

"Any other criticisms you got?" 

"Yeah, why do I have a fat middle-aged bald guy as my Muse anyway?  Why don't I have a Muse looks like Sharon Stone?"

"Maybe Stephen King has a Muse that looks like Sharon Stone.  You're lucky you don't have a Muse looks like Sly Stone!"

That does it, Muse!  You're fired!"

"Aren't you forgetting something?  You can't fire me!"

"Why the hell not?"

"I'm Union."

"Crap!  You're right, I did forget."

"Want me to call the union rep right now, Boss?" 

"Nah, you win.  Tell me your idea again about the Jewish zombie who won't mix brains with dairy?"

"Sure.  And, by the way, I've been meaning to talk to you 'bout you springing for a much better diversity of investment funds in my 401 (k)!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Maltese Birth Certificate

Also starring Sarah Palin, Mitt Romney, Newt Gingrich, and introducing Donald Trump as the Rug Man!



Characters

Sam Spade --- Humphrey Bogart. What can I say? When Humphrey Bogart was my age, he was already dead. Look at what he achieved! Me? I can’t even open a jar of midget gherkins.

Spade's Voiceover --- Yes, you’re going to get to hear the innermost thoughts and comments of Sam Spade himself. What? No voiceover in the original Maltese Falcon? Well, I’m not exactly John Huston either!

Governor Sarah Palin --- Sarah Palin. Say what you will; she’s a hell of a lot better looking than Mary Astor from the original film. How was it that Astor was considered hot, even back in the day?

Kasper Trumpman, a/k/a The Rug Man --- Donald Trump. As with Sydney Greenstreet, Donald Trump makes his film debut here at over the age of 60. In Trump’s case, it could have waited way longer!

Mitt Cairo --- Mitt Romney. Smooth, slick, and somewhat dandified. Except when you're talking about Peter Lorre, who played the role in the original film, also add in “interesting, original, and talented.”

The Gunsel --- Newt Gingrich. Lizard-like, low-rent, and as we members of the Tribe would say, “tuchas-faced.” Elisha Cook Jr. would be proud!

Plus Ward Bond, Barton MacLane and all your other favorite forties actors that nobody except older Boomers like me remember.

SCENE ONE --- Then She Walked In

Spade's Voiceover: San Francisco is a city of some half million people. That's a lot of folks with a lot of different hopes, dreams, and aspirations.

Me, I'm just another one of the half million. But my line of work is a bit different from most of the other suckers.

I'm Sam Spade, Birth Certificate Private Eye!

My job is to track down and locate missing, stolen, and/or filed in the wrong manila folder Certificates of Birth. How did I get into this racket? It’s a slimy disgusting business, filled with depraved, revolting, amoral sleazebags ---- even the ones who aren’t lawyers. But for me, it’s home!

Well, it was another late Thursday afternoon in August, and I was sitting at my desk doing the things any Birth Certificate private dick does on his down time. Flipping through the mail, eyeballing the Daily Racing Form, and boning up on the multi-faceted legal distinctions between the Long and Short Form Birth Certificate in the State of Hawaii when ……

She walked in! The “attractive woman entering scene” saxophone music you always hear in movies from the 40’s played briefly. (BTW, I'm still tryin' to find it for you on You-Tube, folks.)

She was one tasty brunette, with a kind of firm but feminine jaw line and lips that said “if you wanna kiss me, you better be willing to gut Medicare first.” Dressed from head to toe in red, she reminded me of an explosion at the Crayola Factory!

Palin: Are you Sam Spade, Birth Certificate Private Eye? Mr. Spade, I need your assistance!

Spade: Now just hold on, sister! I don't function too well until I've been properly introduced.

Palin: Oh, I am sorry, Mr. Spade. My name’s Palin … Sarah Palin. Former Governor of the State of Alaska Sarah Palin.

Spade: That's much better. Yes, Governor Palin, I believe I recognize you from the dartboard down at Keith Olbermann’s joint on 32nd street. Now what can I do for you?

Palin: It’s my sister Michelle, Mr. Spade! She’s taken up with a shady individual named Thursby. I have reason to believe he’s trafficking in an original Joan Rivers birth certificate!

Spade: An original Joan Rivers! That’s written in Middle English, no less! This guy must play for keeps!

Palin: Mr. Spade, I want Michelle away from this horrible man! Get him drunk, lure him off with promises of racy photos of Mary Landrieu or Mrs. Clinton or Ruth Bader Ginsberg, whatever you have to do!

Spade: OK, Precious, I get the picture. You want me to get Michelle to repudiate Thursby.

Palin: Exactly, Mr. Spade, how did you know?

Spade: It seems to be written in black ink on your left hand. By the way, “repudiate” is spelled with a “p,” not an “f.”

Palin: I can see you’re packing heat, Mr. Spade; that’s good! Ohhhh, that Second Amendment! Sometimes it just makes me lose all control!!

Spade: Well, then, remind me to read it to you some evening over a bottle of bourbon. Leaving out the “militia part” of course.

Palin: You are quite the rogue, Mr. Spade, and I think I’m going for you! (Why…. I might be coining a term here!) Will you handle the case yourself for me?

Spade: Unfortunately, Governor, I’m occupied. I’ve been hired by a woman named Huffington to locate her birth certificate. Even she can’t figure out where her accent’s from! My none-too-bright partner Miles Frisby will track Thursby for you this evening. After tonight, I’m all yours …

Palin: Wonderful, Mr. Spade. Oh, and …. Sam…. if you need something - anything - all you have to do is whistle. You know how to whistle don’t you? You just put your lips together and….

Spade’s Voiceover: (cutting her off) We’re going to give that line a quick two dollar haircut! Plays a lot rougher by year 2011 standards than it ever did in 1941!

SCENE TWO --- The Bodies Mount

Spade’s Voiceover: I wrapped up the case with Huffington that night a lot earlier than I’d thought. Turned out her birth certificate was from a place called New Jersey. Couldn’t wait to collect the big fee I was sure I'd get from her! I went home, had a couple slugs of bourbon, and hit the sack, enjoying a Freudian dream about hunting elk in my birthday suit with the intriguing Governor Palin ….

Then there came a banging on the door like the Ringo Starr drum solo at the end of Abbey Road only more inventive. It was 2:30 A.M. I put on my robe and opened the door to my old pal, down-to-earth regular guy Police Sergeant Tom Polhaus and his boss, tough no-nonsense bordering-on-sadistic Lieutenant Joe Dundy. Yep, Central Casting, you’re on the ball!

Polhaus: I’m afraid we’ve got some bad news, Sam…

Spade: Oh, no! There isn’t going to be another season of Curb Your Enthusiasm!?

Polehaus: No, Sam. It’s Miles. He’s dead. Shot through the heart.

Spade: His second favorite organ! You guys want coffee?

Dundy: And there’s more news, Spade. The man he was tailing -- Thursby. He’s dead too!

Spade: Really? You take cream with that?

Polehaus: Sam, it seems that Frisby was following Thursby late Thursday night when he was shot full of lead. Several hours later, Thursby was shot full of lead. We’re running out of lead and we’re not even halfway through the picture!

Dundy: You see, Spade, Frisby was shot on Thursday and Thursby was shot on Friday.

Spade: Try saying that fast five times!

Dundy: You’re not taking this seriously, Spade! I think you killed Frisby, if not Thursby too; you had a motive.

Spade: What was that, Dundy?

Dundy: You were shtupping Frisby’s wife!

Polehaus: Oh now, Joe! Sam’s a good egg. At least as far as totally amoral sleaze-bag wife-shtuppers go!

Spades's Voiceover: Dundy and Polehaus departed after briefly complimenting me on the tasteful renovations underway at my apartment since I’d has hired Nate Berkus as my interior decorator. Yeah, that Oprah sure knows how to pick ‘em!

But something was bothering me. I knew then that Precious Palin hadn’t been playing square with me. Not only that, she hadn’t been playing triangle either, which is really my favorite instrument!

I called her at her hotel, informed her Thursby and Frisby were dead, and told she had to come right over. I was expecting histrionics --- not that I thought she knew what the word meant --- and I wasn’t disappointed.

SCENE THREE --- The Lady Lies

Palin: (entering Sam’s apartment) Histrionics, Sam? What does that mean?

Spade’s Voiceover: As I said, I wasn’t disappointed.

Spade: It means this: that story you told me yesterday was just a story. There is no sister! There is no Michelle!

Palin: You’re right, Sam, there is no sister. There is a Michelle, but the less said about her the better! What can I do to get you to trust me?

Spade: Not having all your lines of dialogue written on your left hand would help!

Palin: You've got to believe me, Sam. Yes, Thursby was my partner but I’d no idea anyone would be killed. Oh, you must help me, Sam. You're brave. You're strong. You lift things up and put them down!

Spade: You’re good, you’re very good! So good you almost make me want to sign up for a death panel!

Palin: Yes, I deserve that, Sam. I can only tell you that Thursby and I were searching for…. the world’s most valuable birth certificate!

Spade: My God! A Larry King! If it weren’t for the Rosetta Stone, we’d never be able to read one of those!

Palin: No, Sam. More valuable even than that …

Spade’s Voiceover: Just then, there was another banging at the door. That Ringo Starr must’ve been the luckiest guy in show business … after Tracy Morgan, that is! I opened the door….

Cairo: Hello, Mr. Spade. My name is Mitt Cairo.

Spade: Oh. Look what the Presidential Exploratory Committee just dragged in!

Cairo (entering): Mr. Spade, I seek your assistance in locating an important object that has been unfortunately lost or stolen. Or maybe it’s just in the wrong manila folder. (Seeing Palin.) Oh, hello, Governor. I'm delighted to see you again.

Palin: Hello, Mitt. How’s that Massachusetts Mandatory Health Care Plan workin’ out for you?

Spade’s Voiceover: In a rage, Cairo pulled a gun on both of us! That’s not something I can abide, although I think I saw Palin give a look like she wanted to slip the gun her phone number. I tackled Cairo, disarmed him, and slapped him down.

Cairo: You slapped me! Who do I look like to you? Larry Fine?

Spade: When you're slapped, you'll take it and like it! Well, you don’t actually have to click “like” on my Facebook page, but I’d appreciate it!

Cairo: Mr. Spade, Ms. Palin and I seek the same thing ---- A birth certificate of immense importance. I will pay you a sum equal to the cost of hair gel I use in a day to help me locate it.

Spade: What is this crazy birth certificate? Why is it worth the life of two men?

Cairo: Two men are killed? I hope they weren’t voters!

Palin: (ominously) It was the Rug Man. He’s in San Francisco!

Cairo: (in fear) The Rug Man!

Spade: Who is the Rug Man? Why is he called that?

Palin: If you saw him, Sam, you’d know. If you called 800 - 588 - 2300 EMPIRE, you couldn’t get a worse job!

Spade’s Voiceover: Just then the phone rang. It was my loyal secretary, Effie. Funny how in the forties every other dame seemed to be named Effie. Guess that makes up for the fact that there probably won’t be another Effie until the century in which Star Trek takes place.

Spade: Yes, Effie. A mister Kaspar Trumpman a/k/a the Rug Man wants to see me, eh? About the birth certificate? He’s sending his weasily and tuchas-faced gunsel over to pick me up now? (Hangs up)

Spade: (to Palin) Precious, what does “gunsel” mean?

Spade’s Voiceover: Look who I was asking! Precious didn’t even know the meaning of regular words! There came another knock at the door.

Spade: (as the gunsel enters) Yuck! You’re even more weasily and tuchas-faced than I expected.

Gunsel Gingrich: Keep on ridin' me. They're gonna be pickin' iron out of your liver. Or… uh…pickin’ liver out of your iron if you happened to be eating liver while you’re ironing your underwear. Something like that …

Spade: (laughing) The cheaper the crook, the gaudier the patter! Your patter is so gaudy it reminds me of Celo Green at his son's bar mitzvah!

SCENE FOUR --- The Rug Man

Spade’s Voiceover: Gunsel Gingrich took all three of us over to Trumpman’s hotel room across town, where I was given a royal welcome!

Rug Man: Welcome, sir, welcome! Make yourself feel right at home. Just as if this were Pee-Wee’s Playhouse.

Spade: Well, if this is Pee-Wee’s Playhouse, I don’t think I care to sit on the sofa.

Rug Man: Ha! Ha! By gad, I like a man who won’t sit on the sofa in Pee Wee’s Playhouse!

Spade: I see why you’re called the Rug Man. I didn’t realize you were also so bloated and fat!

Palin: (contemptuously) Yeah! He’s a stuffed pig!

Cairo: (making conversation) Do you like suckling pig, Mr. Spade?

Spade: No, as a rule, I never like anything that’s looking at me while I’m eating it. Fortunately that doesn’t come up very often.

Rug Man: Ha! Ha! By gad, I like a man who doesn’t like anything that’s looking at him while he’s eating it.

Spade: Well, the way it’s going, I hope you at least check “like” on my Facebook page!

Rug Man: Ha! Ha! By gad, I like a man who hopes I at least.... oh, the hell with it! Let’s get down to business.

Spade: Yes, let’s. Let's talk about the Certificate of Birth in question.

Rug Man: Mr. Spade, it is nothing less than the fabulous but monumentally elusive Maltese Birth Certificate!

Spade’s Voiceover: The only Maltese I knew anything about was a little dog my ex-wife used to own. In those days, my leg got humped a lot more often than I ever did!

Spade: I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mr. Trumpman.

Rug Man: It is the actual birth certificate of the audacious man posing right now as president of this very country, the birth certificate that proves that one Barak Obama was born not in the United States of America, but on the Isle of Malta!

Spade: That’s quite a claim. How did The Maltese Birth Certificate come to be?

Rug Man: In 1961, Mr. Obama’s socialist, communist, Burl Ives–listening parents stopped off on the Isle of Malta on their way to Moscow for the annual Joseph Stalin Mustache Look-Alike Contest. There they had a child, Barack Hussein Obama, whom they hoped could develop a substantial enough milk mustache to win the contest.

Spade: I see. So whichever one of you can best rob and cheat and steal your way to possession of The Maltese Birth Certificate will become the Republican front runner for President ….

Rug Man: By gad, you are a flatterer, sir!

Palin: But, Sam, regardless of which one of us finds The Maltese Birth Certificate, all of us will benefit!

Rug Man: It’ll be no billionaire left behind!

Palin: An assault rifle in every pot! After first using it to blast to smithereens the chicken in every pot!

Cairo: An environment as polluted and degraded as each one of us!

Rug Man: Mr. Spade, we last learned that The Maltese Birth Certificate was in the hands of another one of Governor Palin’s so-to-speak confederates, a Captain Jacoby. Gunsel Gingrich paid a visit on him but shall-we-say failed to convince him to work with us.

Spade’s Voiceover: Just then the phone shall-we-ring rang. Effie had tracked me down at Trumpman’s with quite a story. Seems Jacoby had staggered into my office inconveniently bleeding to death, and handed her The Maltese Birth Certificate for safe keeping!

Think that’s contrived? Better never see the original picture then!

I told Effie to clean up all the blood, do a little light dusting, and deliver The Maltese Birth Certificate to us at Trumpman’s hotel room for all five of us to finally gaze upon!

SCENE FIVE --- You’re Taking the Fall

Sam’s Voiceover: Within minutes, Effie delivered The Maltese Birth Certificate and it was placed on a table in front of the co-conspirators.

Rug Man: At last ... after all these days, months, years, afternoons, fiscal quarters, Tuesdays with Morrie...

Spade's Voiceover: The Rug Man began to inspect The Maltese Birth Certificate from every angle, caressing it with an almost lascivious lust while the others salivated copiously from a distance. You’d think it was a Happy Meal which included the best toy ever for kids under three! The Rug Man took out a knife and repeatedly scraped it across the paper upon which the certificate was printed, apparently to re-assure himself that it wasn't a …..

Rug Man: (furious) Fake! No, no, no! It's a phony! It's as fake as Heidi Montag’s breasts!

Cairo: (panicked) How can you tell?

Rug Man: Look very carefully. No, at The Maltese Birth Certificate, not at Heidi Montag’s breasts! When I scrape it with my knife, the paper shreds on a left to right axis with minimum bonding and modest warp modularity. Also, you moron, it says right here on the back “Made in China!”

Spade: A swell lot of thieves! And I just now heard on NPR that the President has released his long form birth certificate from Hawaii!

Spade’s Voiceover: For a moment the Rug Man seemed so thoroughly distraught, so emotionally devastated, so completely destroyed by the utter failure of his multiple year quest that he almost changed his expression.

Rug Man: (recovering quickly) Oh, well. Come, Gunsel Gingrich! Mitt, Mr. Spade …. Care to join us on a quest for our second most desired holy grail: a lock of Joe Biden’s scant hair, the DNA of which proves conclusively he is a Martian seeking to secure a steady Republican food supply for his dying planet?

Spade’s Voiceover: No,thanks. Think I’ll sick around here and help the Governor plan the next 15 years to life of her political career.

Rug Man: By gad, I'd like to have you along, sir. You're a man of nice judgment and many resources, and as a non-Tea Bagger, someone with an IQ in double figures!

Spade’s Voiceover: The Rug Man, Cairo, and Gunsel Gingrich departed, but I knew they wouldn’t get far before being picked up by Polhaus for Jacoby’s murder. That left me with one final loose end --- the deceitful, ruthless, yet beguiling Governor Palin.

Oh yeah, I left out “kinda stupid.”

Spade: Now, Precious, give me all of it fast! When you first came to my office, why did you want Frisby to follow Thursby?

Palin: Oh, Sam, I just wanted to scare him so he'd stop asking me for a cushy do-nothing federal job if I become President. Sort of like head of the EPA.

Spade: That's a lie! You hoped Frisby would shoot Thursby, but when Frisby didn’t shoot Thursby, you shot Frisby hoping Thursby be blamed for shooting Frisby. When Thursby wasn’t blamed for Frisby, you shot Thursby, having already shot Frisby.

Palin: Yes, Sam, I did do all that stuff, that's true. But I still can't diagram that sentence!

Spade: Okay, let’s try this: You killed Frisby on Thursday! Then you killed Thursby on Friday! Good thing for me there isn’t any Spadesday!

Palin: (sobbing) Okay, yes, yes, that’s right. But Sam, from the first moment I saw you…..

Spade: Don't try it, Precious! You're taking the fall. And I don’t mean the election in the fall!

Palin: Stop it! You know down deep in your heart and in spite of anything I've done I love you.

Spade: I don't care who loves who! Hey: “Who Loves Who?” Sounds like a good name for a musical comedy!

Palin: Sam, don’t say things like that even in fun. Oh, I was frightened for a minute. I really thought...You do such wild and unpredictable things.

Spade: I won't play the sap for you! I never learned how to play the sap anyway --- or the square or the triangle for that matter. I’m just not that musical!

Palin: Oh, Sam, you’ve been toying with me. You don't love me!

Spade: I won't walk in Thursby's --- and I don't know how many others --- footsteps, especially if I’m walking in Central Park on 59th Street where all the horse and buggies are! You killed Frisby and Thursby and you're going over for it.

Palin: Going over what for it?

Spade: Over easy for it? Over Niagara Falls in a Barrel for it? Who the hell knows?! I can’t keep up with all this smartass Dashiell Hammett patter forever!

Palin: You know whether you love me or not.

Spade: Maybe I do. Well, I'll have some rotten nights after I've sent you over, but that will pass. I’ll take an Ambien. I’ll watch a Farrelly Brothers movie.

The chances are you'll get off with life, which means if you're a good girl, you'll be out in 20 years. I'll be waiting for you. Then again, maybe not; you’re not that great looking! You’re only halfway decent compared with someone like Mary Astor!

Spade’s Voiceover: Polehaus and Dundy arrived, and I handed over Precious Palin to them. She walked off … a bit defiantly perhaps, perhaps not. I was going to make sure she got some newspapers and magazines to read in the big house, but I know she loves to read “all of them,” and I just can’t afford all that many!

I was looking down at The Maltese Birth Certificate --- the cause of all this needless strife and stupidity --- when Tom came up behind me.

Polhaus. What is that, Sam?

Spade: The stuff that Tea Party dreams are made of.

Polhaus: (confused) Huh??

Spade: In a couple days, all of us would probably be saying the same.


The End

The Happiest Mixed Marriage in Show Business

                   

By Courtesy of Parade Magazine

Rose “Ma” Nishtanah turns from the stove, having tossed the last sprig of dill into her bubbling and internationally famous Matzoh Ball Soup.

“You know,” she says, “he’s never eaten so much as a spoonful of it, and yet I still love the guy anyway!”

At the kitchen table, Eustace “Pa” Rumpumpumpum smiles. “I know she and some of the children love it, but frankly it can’t hold spit to my delicious Safeway Cream of Mayonnaise soup!”

It’s like that a lot in the home of show business’ happiest mixed marriage, that of the iconic Ma Nishtanah and Pa Rumpumpumpum. Married for almost 35 years, the two of them keep their relationship flowering despite differences that’d make Sarah Palin and film maker Michael Moore seem like bunkmates!

Pa explains as he gives me a tour of the elaborate wood and metal working shop in the basement of their home.

“It’s the respect we have for each other’s traditions,” he says, “that keeps us going strong. She doesn’t bug me when I’m watching NASCAR, and I don’t bother her when she’s busy looking at Jon Stewart or some other Jewish-dominated mainstream media crap!”

This idyllic relationship didn’t happen overnight.

Eustace Rumpumpum (as he was then known; he added the third ‘pum’ later when he was able to afford it) came out of a dirt-poor Arkansas town so poor it didn’t even have dirt to score a number of gospel based hits, including “Jesus Loves Me, But I Just Wanna Be Friends, ” ”Amazing Nancy Grace,” and the cross-over album that forever associated him with the holidays “A Glenn Beck Christmas.”

Subsequently acquiring the nickname Pa for no discernable reason whatsoever, Eustace’s shaky first marriage to cocktail waitress/roller derby queen/ Associate Professor of Russian Literature at the University of Southern California Tammy Lynette Hairnette ended tragically when he audited her course on Tolstoy and still managed to flunk.

Rose Nishtanah's journey to fame began when her parents fled the Russian shtetl of Anapaquin to escape marauding bands of Cossacks which chased them all the way to 57th street before deciding to give up and sail back home. With a talent for song and dance, Rose became the toast of Broadway performing with her sisters as “Ma and the Joongs,” earning herself a nickname that would forever ensure her tons of free press every Passover.

Like Pa, Ma suffered a failed first marriage to the charming Irwin “Buddy” Berenson, a dapper Broadway ne’er do well who wore a pencil thin mustache because he had gambled away all the hairs in a regular size one. Smitten hard, Rose stood by Buddy as he systematically went through her Fortune, her Time, and her entire collection of National Geographics before dying penniless and mustache-less at age 43.

Both unlucky in love, Ma and Pa met each other on the set of the old “Hollywood Palace” TV program.

“I never realized how attractive a Jewess could be,” says Pa, “before she’d yet fallen under the sway of the Devil’s dominion.” For her part, Rose adds “I’d hadn’t ever dated a man who wasn’t a doctor, lawyer, or someone who’d inherited his father’s auto parts store.”

Within a week, the two were married and disowned by both sets of parents. Nonetheless, both credit their personal happiness as sparking the separate phenomenal success each has since enjoyed in motion pictures, television, concerts, Hadassah fundraisers, and “I Love the Second Amendment” bake sales.

Rejoining Ma in the kitchen, the couple affectionately speak about their large family of six children, three of which are Jewish and three of which are Southern Gentile What's-a-Who-Sis.

“I have three wonderful children,” kvells Ma, “and three more too.” 

“I dearly love all my children," Pa adds, "the Jewish ones almost as much as the real ones.”

With both still highly active in show business, we asked Ma and Pa what performers they each personally enjoy today.

“That Mel Gibson,” says Ma, “he’s quite an exciting action hero, and still such a dreamboat!”

“And I have always loved Ms. Barbra Streisand,” chimes in Pa. “She was so very affecting in Yentl.”

For a moment, each stares at the other.

Suddenly a steaming hot plate of Matzoh Ball Soup comes sailing on a direct course toward the venerable country star’s ever greasy head. It narrowly misses his pompadour and splatters off the wall behind the kitchen table. Pa swiftly sends his half-opened Budweiser in the direction of the sink, missing Ma but scoring a frothy hit on a nearby jar of herring.

All at once both of them break out laughing hysterically.

Sometimes our differences,” Ma Nishtanah and Pa Rumpumpumpum --- two halves of the happiest mixed marriage in show business --- say almost in unison, “are less than they seem.”

That should be true for us all.

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Not a Member of the Tribe? 

    Ma Nishtahah  -  name for the traditional "Four Questions" asked every Passover by the youngest child at the Seder. The questions ask "Why is this Night different from all other nights?" and go on to confound and perplex from there.

    kvell - to express delight and pride.  I know, I know --- doesn't happen much with you and me.

One Tough 2,000 Years!

 It’s been one tough 2,000 years for the Jewish people!

Sure, we’re still here and this year celebrating six centuries of dominating the media, but it hasn’t been an easy ride. For most of that time, we’ve been surrounded by a whole lot of folks who’ve found us about as appealing as a Ben Affleck film festival.

What if Fate had taken us all down a different path?

“Governor Palin,” asked Bill O'Reilly during a recent Fox News interview, “may I ask your position on school prayer?”

“Bill, my position on school prayer is unwavering,” said Palin. "I believe firmly that Zeus should never have been expelled from the classroom!”

Oh brother, I thought, here it comes! I well remember those days of forced school prayer in the 50’s: “Our Father, who art on Olympus ….”

“I have always been guided in all things,” Palin went on,” by the teachings of Zeus and his one true son, Hercules!”

Yep! The old “give us this day our daily bread and circuses ….”

“What’s your thinking about global warming?” asked O' Reilly.

“As far as I’m concerned,” Palin snapped,” the problem of global warming is limited to one person and one person only --- Icarus! I’m sorry he fell into the ocean but he shouldn’t have been flying above the ozone layer.”

I’d had enough! Why do some people act as if this were a strictly Greco-Roman nation?

I decided to take a drive into Center City. It was holiday time, and I figured there’d be lots of cool things to do.

Sure enough, when I got downtown, everywhere the city was aglow with joyous signs of the annual Winter Festival of Charybdis, Spirit of the Ocean Whirlpool. Carolers sang on every corner.

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Charybdis,” sang a group of schoolchildren, looking very much like something out of a print by Currier and Ives.

“Good King Menelaus looked out on the Feast of Helen,” warbled another merry group.

This was all very lovely, but a little later as I walked down South Street, I was suddenly surrounded by a gang of ethereal-looking young people imploring me to accept leaflets they were handing out.

“Prometheus freaks!” I muttered to myself in disgust. They’re always after the Jews!

I managed a quick polite “no, thank you,” and continued on my way.

“Don’t walk away, sir!” a young woman called out. “Prometheus sacrificed and suffered to give mankind a wonderful gift.”

“Yeah, I know --- Fire!” I retorted. “Well, I’ll remember him the next time I’m barbecuing a steak!”

I didn’t mean to be rude, but I’ve about had it with how the Jews are headed for Hades if they don’t climb aboard the train that’s “Prometheus Bound.” So what if back in the day he did weasel some fire out of gods for us? What’ll they claim he’s going to give us next --- eternal life?

“How did you know they were Prometheus freaks?” asked a man standing a few feet away from me.

“Most of them wear little necklaces with a pendant shaped like a half-eaten piece of liver. It’s so morbid!”

On the way home, I wondered if one day we could all just live and let live. After all, my friend Blitstein has a successful mixed marriage. He’s Jewish, she’s Dionysian. I enjoy going to their house; her family throws great parties!

Frankly I have to admit I do love secular Charybdis. I watch the Alastair Sim version of A Charybdis Carol every chance I get.

So --- one historical path or another --- I guess things are going to be all right.

And as Tiny Tim said, “Zeus bless us, every one!”

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