Monthly Archives: November 2021

I’ve been following politics and current affairs for quite a few years. When I was a kid, there was Nixon and Watergate and Vietnam — though I must admit that when I was that age, all of it was just so much background noise.

But I do remember it.

Since then, America has endured recessions and mini-wars and scandals galore. Yet I don’t recall any time as bad as right now.

 

If the liberals/progressives in charge are correct, this Great Reset will save us from global warming and introduce a fairer, more equitable world.

But it seems clear to me that in the meantime, for 90 to 99 percent of us regular folk (depending on whether we spare the “1 Percent” or also the “10 Percent”), things are going to get worse and worse and worse and ….

Even if Biden and the Democrats got the boot today, the damage is done.

 

**

 

Conventional Wisdom?

 

I’ll admit that I’m often a contrarian. I tend not to trust whatever “conventional wisdom” is foisted upon us. Plus, I like to argue. Here are two bits of conventional wisdom that I question:

 

The Golden Rule — Oh, yeah? What if I am a sadomasochist? If I like to be whipped, does that mean I should do unto you (whipping) as I would have you do unto me?

There Are Only Two Genders/Sexes — Whichever side you take in this debate, one fact is always ignored: the existence of the hermaphrodite. If I am born part male and part female, doesn’t that mean there are three sexes?

 

**

 

The Kiss

 

 

Toward the end of the horror-comedy Freaky, viewers are treated (or subjected) to a kissing scene between the character played by Vince Vaughn and a teenage boy.

I am of two minds about this. On the one hand, if the scene is intended to generate laughs, no problem. It recalls the final line of Some Like It Hot, in which Joe E. Brown discovers that masquerading Jack Lemmon is really a male and doesn’t miss a beat in his assessment: “Well, nobody’s perfect!”

On the other hand, in this age of woke politics, I suspect that the filmmakers’ objective is more like: “Hey straight guys, stop being so transphobic/homophobic and try sex with another male!”

Ugh.

 

*

 

 

Freaky features a “cameo” by Green Bay Packers quarterback Aaron Rodgers — the funniest sports gag since Green Bay Packers quarterback Brett Favre stumbled through a few lines in There’s Something About Mary.

 

**

 

Fake Nudes!

 

 

I recently commented on the proliferation of fake nude photos, mostly of celebrities, that can be found online.

This phenomenon is potentially good and bad. It’s bad for regular folk because God only knows how many misunderstandings, breakups, firings, and embarrassments will result from Henry discovering online “photos” of Lucille giving a blowjob to LeBron James.

But it’s good for celebrities who have genuine nudes that have been leaked. Thanks to the plethora of fake pics, they can always claim that their very real photos are, in fact, bogus.

Either way, the rallying cry “fake news!” is likely to be supplanted by “fake nudes!”

On that note, here are a few fakes of ABBA singer Agnetha Faltskog. Because that’s what you expect of us.

 

 

© 2010-2022 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

Share

 

“Now, what really mattered to me was how all of this unfolded,” she explained. “What was the thing that sparked it, what started all of it. And, initially, I was under the assumption that Rittenhouse was the person who was chasing after Joseph Rosenbaum — that’s how it started. But I was wrong about that.

“I was in fact wrong about that, and to show you the evidence to reinforce that I was wrong about that, I want to go to this video.” — Ana Kasparian of The Young Turks.

 

Too often, when the “progressive” left is once again proven wrong about something in our ongoing culture war (like, say, the Russian dossier, or Hunter Biden’s laptop), it is given the benefit of the doubt:

“Oh, they were mistaken.” “Oops, looks like they might have gotten that one wrong.” “Oh well, do better next time.”

But the “mistakes” keep happening and show no signs of ceasing.

When MSNBC, or CNN, or Your Favorite YouTube Liberal spreads misinformation about Kyle Rittenhouse, Donald Trump, or anyone else they dislike, it is intentional. It’s not a mistake. These people are at war, and facts don’t matter to them; facts are merely inconvenient.

Because the left controls most institutions and has most of the money and power, the only hope is to wake up “the great unwashed,” and hope that the majority of Americans can stop watching Netflix long enough to exercise their common sense.

And when an idiot like Ana Kasparian finally wakes up and sees the light, don’t alienate her by calling her an idiot. Even though she is an idiot.

 

**

 

 

The Nobel, Pulitzer, Emmys, Oscars — they shouldn’t have to be sued to do the right thing. They should be doing it on their own.

This is why awards institutions no longer have credibility.

 

**

 

Over the past few years, The Grouch, believe it or not, has held not one but two day jobs. No longer. Thanks to Joe Biden’s vaccine mandate, The Grouch was shown the door this week by Pearson Education.

Asked for a comment, The Grouch said: “Let’s go, Brandon!”

 

© 2010-2022 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

Share

by Jeanine Cummins

 

American Dirt is nothing if not controversial, what with its white, European-American author telling the tale of a middle-class Mexican woman whose life is upended — to put it mildly — and who chooses to make a harrowing journey from Acapulco to Arizona with her eight-year-old son in tow. Illegally.

The book’s critics say Cummins took pains to make the story palatable for American readers, and that her heroine, Lydia, is an unrepresentative, atypical immigrant. The critics might be right. What the hell do I know?

The novel was a bestseller last year. But all hell broke loose upon its publication.

The uproar over Dirt brings to mind James Frey’s A Million Little Pieces, which came under fire for being hyped as a memoir when, in fact, it was fiction. Fact-based or fabricated, Frey had written a remarkable book. Pieces was a marketing failure, not a writing failure.

I can only comment on what I read in American Dirt, and as a work of fiction, it’s a superb thriller.

As for the novel’s politics, yes, it is very one-sided, very pro-immigrant and pro-immigration. There is even one none-too-subtle jab at Trump. But immigration is a huge story, with many subplots.

Someone else could write an equally moving, largely anti-immigration story, I’m sure. A story about an illegal immigrant, a career criminal who wreaks havoc on a small American border town, for example.

American Dirt simply isn’t that story.

 

© 2010-2022 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

Share

 

Am I the only one who watched Maid on Netflix and was reminded of the illegal immigration mess? I suspect most people who watch the ten-part drama will see it as a feminist rallying cry, a moving portrait of a single mother fighting the system and society in her struggle to survive, let alone make a better life for herself and her infant daughter. It is, indeed, all of that.

But I was also put in mind of the millions (billions?) of taxpayer dollars that are drained by the enormous influx of illegal immigrants, money that might otherwise go to help legal citizens like Alex the maid.

I guess that makes me an evil deplorable.

 

Despite its overall excellence, I do have a few quibbles about Maid. The acting is superb, and it’s the type of show that will likely stay with me for a long time.

I was totally absorbed by the saga of Alex and three-year-old Maddy … until the last couple of episodes, which wrapped up a bit too neatly. Suddenly, most of Alex’s troubles miraculously vanished.

Also, that obnoxious finger-snapping, in lieu of applause, at the group-therapy sessions reeked of political correctness gone wild.

After I finished watching the show, I considered reading the book (Maid: Hard Work, Low Pay, and a Mother’s Will to Survive) on which it is based — however loosely. And so I read a Washington Post article Stephanie Land wrote in 2016, in which I found the following lines:

“Once it was clear that Donald Trump would be president instead of Hillary Clinton, I felt sick to my stomach … [T]he world felt that precarious to me.

“There is no room for dating in this place of grief. Dating means hope. I’ve lost that hope in seeing the words ‘President-elect Trump.’”

No, thank you, to reading anything else by Stephanie Land. I prefer to think that the Netflix series’ quality is due to some talented screenwriters, and not to this idiot.

 

**

 

Now that I’ve praised a show that feminists (probably) support, let’s take a look at something Joe-the-beer-guzzling-trailer-trash-deplorable might like. Specifically, the photography by CBS cameramen on Survivor.

Recently, it was time to give law student Sydney Segal the boot, so we got to know her a bit better before Tribal Council:

 

 

© 2010-2022 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

Share

 

Yeah, Baldwin is quite adept at public relations. In the days following the shooting death of Halyna Hutchins — accidental or not — Baldwin’s grief has led him to dine out at restaurants, go shopping with his wife, and conduct informal chats with the press.

If I had just killed someone, I would be holed up somewhere, avoiding all but a handful of people.

 

***

 

 

Can’t say it any better than the Bee.

 

***

 

 

I am starting to like this kid, Peter Doocy. Daddy’s boy has some real cojones.

 

***

 

I’ve Said It Before, and I’ll Say It Again

 

The Wuhan Flu:  Instead of shutting down the entire country, we should have isolated the elderly (including me real soon) and people with underlying conditions. Period. Everyone else should have kept on keeping on.

 

The Great Reset:  It should always have been about going after the tax-dodging, wealth-hoarding super-rich — and not about race, gender, religion, and whatever else you have.

 

© 2010-2022 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

Share

Searching

 

I was wary of Searching because it’s a gimmick movie. Like Unfriended and films of that ilk, the entire story is told from the perspective of a screen — computer screen, cell-phone screen, security footage, you name it. I’m not a fan of the screencast genre because, among other annoyances, I find myself triggered to “interact.” I feel like I should be clicking on buttons or highlighting text. Too much work.

But like the much-maligned found-footage genre, if the screenplay is clever and the direction is skilled, screencast movies can work. Searching succeeds because the gimmick never becomes outlandish, and the script contains several surprises and one nice twist.

Oh yeah, the plot: A widower undergoes every parent’s nightmare when his teenage daughter goes missing. Then he undergoes every technophobe’s nightmare: enduring all those screens to retrace her steps.  Release: 2018  Grade: B+

 

© 2010-2022 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

Share