Controlling the Media Just Isn't That Much Fun Anymore

 

Yep, keeping these guys

 in line was no picnic

One of the most common misconceptions about the Jewish people is that we control the banks and the media.

Totally ridiculous, of course.

I’ve only been assigned the media. I don’t know anything about banking, except that I could never get my checkbook to balance.

Years ago controlling the media was easy. You just:

• Pick the guest stars for the next two or three episodes of The Love Boat (making sure Ted McGinley is always aboard).

• Record the various openings for 60 Minutes over the years:

  “I’m Harry Reasoner, I’m Morley Safer, I’m Mike Wallace. I’m Lesley Stahl, I'm Ed Bradley … and so on and so forth ad nauseam ... 

• And keep Ed McMahon sober.

Those were the days. Only three networks. Most of the programming was so insipid I often set the media on cruise control and watched reruns of The Twilight Zone.

But now? Multiple cable channels, endless streaming, Tubi, Pluto, On Demand — it’s like being an air traffic controller.

I’ve got to manage Fox News and MS NOW and keep them from getting into fistfights. I like Emma Stone, sure, but I’m seeing more of her naked body than I ever dreamed of. And “You say HBO Max, I say Max. You say HBO Max, I say Max. HBO Max, Max … HBO Max, Max …”

Let’s just call the whole goddamn thing off!

No doubt about it, this job is getting tougher and tougher for a Jewish Baby Boomer born in the 1950s, when the height of television comedy was Milton Berle in a dress. Easy to manage that:

“Hey, Uncle Miltie, you look beautiful but can you please not make it look like you do this on weekends too?”

But these days? I don’t even understand some of the stuff I’m supposed to control.

I really got into it with Tim Robinson last summer.

“Look, Tim,” I shouted, “call your cringe comedy The Chair  and it's sure to tank!”

He didn’t listen. Oy!

I’m thinking of cutting back and letting a younger Jew handle the day-to-day cable and streaming stuff.  Maybe I’ll just control the vintage programming on MeTV.

Can’t wait to hang with Rod Serling again.

Who knows — maybe I’ll find a spot for Ted McGinley too!

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If you hated this post, I hope your remote control gets stuck on Fox News and you need me to switch it off!

Playing Trump Like a Fiddle 201

 

Scene: First day of classes at the Havertown Conservatory of Music.

Dean Kropotkin: I welcome all new and returning students here at the Havertown Conservatory of Music. I'm Dean Graham Kropotkin.

Students: Hello, Dean Kropotkin!

Dean Kropotkin: This year we've added several new classes: Guitar, Harp, String Quartets, and Playing Trump Like a Fiddle 201.

Students applaud.

Dean Kropotkin: And we are privileged to welcome Visiting Professor Vladimir Putin, the world's leading Trump Fiddler. He has played Trump like a fiddle all around the globe — including Helsinki, Finland and most recently Anchorage, Alaska.

Professor Putin: Thank you very much, Dean Kropotkin! Here, let me pluck out a basic riff for you all:

Putin plays.

Dean Kropotkin: Beautiful! Beautiful! What does that express?

Professor Putin: “Sir, you are a genius… a stable genius.” Works every time.

Dean Kropotkin: What did you play in Helsinki that caused Trump to essentially commit treason in plain view?

Professor Putin: A little number called “Powerful in My Denial.” Like putty in my hands, he was.

Dean Kropotkin: Professor Putin, this is our top student, Mohammed bin Salman Al Saud - MBS.

MBS: It's an honor, sir. I have been studying your technique for years. May I show you?

MBS plays.

Professor Putin: Well played! That's the “Things Happen Rag.”

Dean Kropotkin: And this is a promising new student, Zohran Mamdani. 

Zohran Mamdani: I can’t wait to play my new piece for you, sir. It’s called “Just a Spoonful of Flattery Makes the Fascist Come Around.”

Professor Putin: Excellent. I will enjoy working with both of you — and the whole department. 

Dean Kropotkin: Speaking of the whole department, here comes our new chairperson right now!

The Chair: Hello, everybody.   I'm the new chair of the Playing Trump Like A Fiddle Department. 

Professor Putin: By God! ... by God  ... you're ...you're.....  

The Chair:  Yes, I'm Marjorie Taylor Greene.

Professor Putin drops his fiddle.

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If you liked this piece, you may also like "Kristi Noem and Tom Homan Auction Off the Equipment and Fixtures of Alligator Alcatraz."

If you hated this piece, I hope Professor Putin makes you clap out the erasers after every single Playing Trump Like a Fiddle class!

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year - Medicare Annual Enrollment

Yes, this is a wonderful time of year for me ... Thanksgiving ... Christmas ... Hanukkah ...          Medicare  Annual Enrollment 

We Wish You A Med Advantage

It's Beginning To Cost A Lot This Christmas

It's The Most Expensive Time Of The Year

    

     

        Happy Renewals, Everyone!

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If you hated this post, I hope the Nutcracker pays you a visit but it's a more literal Nutcracker than the one generally associated with the holidays!

The 90,000 Square Foot Grand Back Pocket of Donald Trump

 

In an apparent major reversal of opinion, Trump said on social media last Sunday that House Republicans should vote to release the Epstein Files “because we have nothing to hide.”

Maybe I'm naive, but I believe the guy.

But then someone pointed out that Trump can afford to say this because he knows he has all the Republican Senators in his “back pocket.”

How is that possible?

Before his presidency, Trump’s back pocket was barely 5 by 5 inches. It was so thin that when he opened his wallet, not just the proverbial moths flew out, but moths thinner than Tilda Swinton.

But in the past several weeks, Trump’s back pocket has paid host to bulldozers, excavators, wrecking balls, backhoes, cranes, earth movers, cement trucks, front‑end loaders, asphalt pavers — and a construction manager named Herbert.

Suddenly, Trump’s 5‑by‑5 back pocket has been dramatically transformed into a 90,000‑square‑foot Grand Back Pocket!

After the ribbon-cutting early Sunday morning, Republican Senators have been scrambling to enter the Grand Back Pocket.

First up, of course, was Senator Lindsey Graham.

“I am absolutely thrilled to be the very first to nestle myself firmly in Donald’s Grand Pocket,” gushed Senator Graham, “though it wasn’t a long trip for me — from my usual vantage point so far up Donald’s ass, I can practically see his tonsils.”

Senators Tommy Tuberville and Ted Cruz have both been spotted jostling each other to become the second one so ensconced.

“Out of the way, Tuberville,” shrieked Cruz. “Don’t forget my father murdered John F. Kennedy!”

And the rest of the Republican Senators have been squealing, “Me… me… me,” all the way home to Trump’s Grand Pocket.

Soon the bill to release the Epstein Files will move from the House to the Senate.

Or maybe it won't.

Trump might have something else up his sleeve.

Herbert is already drawing up plans for a 90,000‑square‑foot Grand Sleeve.

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If you hated this post, well, I hope you get stuck in an elevator with Lindsey Graham and he can't stop talking about Trump's  butt.