I am supposed to be on vacation, but I didn’t want to go without posting this picture:
I like to think that I follow politics and current affairs a bit more than the average person. But if that’s true, how on Earth have I never heard of this woman? Rich, smart, gorgeous … and RFK’s running mate?
Shame on me.
But Nicole Shanahan, apparently, is responsible for this commercial, which I really dig.
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© 2010-2024 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
The Dream Team?
Standing, left to right: Gabbard, Barron Trump (kneeling), Vance, Ramaswamy, Kennedy
The big announcement yesterday by RFK Jr. is clearly good news for Donald Trump.
One more move by Trump that would make me even more optimistic — asking Tulsi Gabbard and Vivek Ramaswamy to join Kennedy on the Trump team.
Add to that the possibility of more whistleblowers exposing the corrupt Deep State, and I might be (gasp!) cautiously optimistic about the future of the U.S.A.
Assuming, of course, that Trump, Kennedy, Ramaswamy and Gabbard don’t all get assassinated.
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A note on the photo above: Hey, we are novices at this “deep fake” business. You might have noticed, for example, that Barron Trump does not seem to be very tall. Either something is amiss with the photo, or Barron is on his knees. You decide.
© 2010-2024 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
by Colin Dexter
Nothing against Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot, Sam Spade, or any of the hundreds of private dicks, sleuths, and cops in crime fiction, but my favorite of them all is probably Dexter’s Inspector Morse.
Like so many deductive heroes of these novels, Morse is blessed with genius. But he is also cursed by a nettlesome romantic life — or lack thereof. He loves his pints of beer. He also has an (often lecherous) eye for the ladies.
Alas, said ladies are generally just beyond Morse’s grasp, either because they are murdered, or shipped off to jail, or subject to some other calamity.
The Dead of Jericho begins with Morse meeting such a woman and ends with him reflecting about her. There is a mystery to solve, of course, but it’s the melancholic tone of the book that haunts the reader.
We have every confidence that our irascible protagonist will solve the case. But will Morse ever find love?
© 2010-2024 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
As we draw closer to the November election, I am feeling increasingly pessimistic.
It feels like, even if Trump and company manage to win in three months, it’s too late to do much good. Biden, Harris, et al. have done so much damage already that it will take years — if ever — for America to return to some sense of normalcy.
The rage of the childless cat ladies and other “marginalized” groups is so great that they will stop at nothing to exact what they feel is justified revenge.
Does not matter to them that their support of the left could well bring down the whole country — including themselves.
On top of that, even Trump seems sick and tired of the battle. I can’t blame him. They tried to impeach him, jail him — are still trying to jail him — and assassinate him. And yet if the polls are accurate, clueless Harris has more support than he does.
If I were Trump, I would be tired, too. I would wonder if Americans were worth fighting for.
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Maybe I’m wrong about this. Perhaps, in 50 years, historians will look back at this time period and congratulate the childless cat ladies for ushering in an era of peace, prosperity, and a new American Dream.
But I have grave doubts.
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Never heard of this person, but if you detest Hollywood (the people, not necessarily the product), this is an interesting article.
© 2010-2024 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
It’s a good thing I’m so bad at predicting the results of upcoming elections.
Lately, I’ve been feeling doom and gloom about November. It seems like Kamala and the Democrats are on a roll, thanks in large part to the prospect of electing America’s first female president.
I understand the sentiment; I really do, even though I am not a female. In 2008, I voted for Obama largely because I thought a black president would be good for the country. Obama, I felt, would heal (at least somewhat) the omnipresent racial tensions in the United States.
And so, I can understand why so many women might think it’s high time for a lady in the Oval Office. It’s their time, and it might heal (at least somewhat) the battle of the sexes in the United States.
God help all of us.
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The problem with Harris isn’t her sex. The problem is that she’s an idiot.
But she makes a good story, and we’ve already witnessed Trump’s story, and we all crave a new story.
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Just two weeks ago, thanks to the collapse of bumbling, stumbling Joe Biden and, especially, the failed assassination attempt on Trump, I thought things looked bright for the right. The left tried to jail him, then nail him, but the Orange Man emerged triumphant.
But now voters and the media are aboard the Kamala bandwagon, and I am feeling gloomy.
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The good news is that I suck at predicting these things. I was shocked and awed when Trump got elected in 2016. I thought Hillary would prevail. I bought into the media’s expected Republican “red wave” in 2022. It didn’t happen.
And now I have the sinking sensation that Kamala will be redecorating the White House.
Good thing I’m usually so bad at my predictions.
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As for Tim Walz, well.
I live in Minnesota, and he is just as rotten as you might think.
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In less-pressing news, let’s check in with long-legged Makensy in the Big Brother house:
© 2010-2024 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
Hard to know what to make of the woman boxer who got her clock cleaned at the Olympics. On the one hand, it seems absurd that she was fighting a biological male. On the other hand, if she still supports him after her demolition, it’s hard to feel sorry for her.
Enjoy getting your clock cleaned again in the future, lady.
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How does it feel, Democrats? Your presidential nominee has been anointed, and you didn’t even have to vote for her.
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Speaking of women’s work (ha ha), CBS has made it difficult for the usual culprits to post sexy outtakes from the Big Brother live feeds. So, in the interest of the public good, Yours Truly grabbed his camera to record Makensy, barefoot and in the kitchen, cleaning up:
You’re welcome.
© 2010-2024 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
Abigail
Pros: If you are into “comfort horror,” in which you don’t expect major twists in the story nor deep psychological insight, this movie is for you. It’s got a small group of people trapped in a spooky mansion with a killer on the loose who is picking them off, one by one. That’s the (familiar) plot.
I liked that. If it worked for And Then There Were None, it’s good enough for me.
Cons: It’s not a big spoiler to reveal that the killer is a little-girl vampire who is into ballet. She is played by a young actress who makes faces and dances and wears Dracula fangs. That’s the hook.
I didn’t like that. The girl is not very scary, and the gimmick wears thin. Also, the other characters are shallow, there is little wit in the dialogue, and gore replaces suspense. This is not And Then There Were None.
But if you just want something familiar, here you go. Release: 2024 Grade: B
Would I watch it again? If I am stressed and need something silly but comforting, possibly.
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Pearl
Here is what Pearl is: gorgeous to look at, well-acted, thought-provoking, and original.
Here is what Pearl is not: much fun.
Maybe it’s a product of our times, and Ti West’s trilogy of terror (along with X and MaXXXine) simply reflects the national mood. But I can’t help comparing X to 1974’s The Texas Chain Saw Massacre and Pearl — a psychological profile of a murderess in the making — to early ‘60s melodramas What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? and Hush … Hush, Sweet Charlotte.
West’s fondness for those earlier movies is apparent. The plots and/or themes are similar in all of them. And yet …
Chain Saw and the Bette Davis films were scary-good fun, horror with an underlying sense of humor. West’s movies are technically impressive, but bleak and unpleasant. Release: 2022 Grade: B
Would I watch it again? Not likely. See above.
© 2010-2024 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
The year 2024, as expected, has been insane.
I expect 2025 to be even crazier.
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The thing is, no matter who wins the November election, chaos remains.
It’s hard to believe that, should the Democrats prevail, MAGA Nation will shake its collective head and say, “Oh, well — better luck next time!”
It’s hard to believe that, should the Republicans win, “progressives” will sigh and think, “Oh, well — we gave it our best shot!”
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Nope.
Everything is going to be nuts for years to come.
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What next? Another assassination attempt? A contrived economic crash? World War III?
A dictatorship on the left or a dictatorship on the right?
Nothing seems out of the question.
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Have a nice week!
© 2010-2024 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
by David Grann
A few weeks ago, I watched a YouTube video featuring amazing images of Mars that have been transmitted back to Earth. The high-definition pictures of the red planet’s barren landscapes held my interest for 15 minutes or so — and then it was time to move on to the next video. I’d seen enough.
Perhaps I’ve become jaded, or I’ve watched too many science-fiction movies.
It’s easy to forget how, for most of history, exploration was a rock-star pursuit that riveted the world. Long before YouTube, or even television, newspaper accounts of adventurers like Percy Fawcett mesmerized readers all over the globe.
David Grann (Killers of the Flower Moon) spent years researching the life, legend and disappearance of Fawcett, a British explorer who entered the Amazon basin in 1925 with two other expedition members — hoping to confirm the existence of the titular “Z” — and then never came back.
Did the Fawcett party fall victim to disease or to predators? Did a hostile tribe kill them? Grann’s exhaustive research (and even a trip to the Amazon, hoping to retrace Fawcett’s final excursion) fails to provide definitive answers.
That’s a problem. By the book’s conclusion, we still don’t know what became of the enigmatic, obsessed (I might say “bull-headed”) explorer. Nor, despite Grann’s best efforts and imagination, do we get conclusive answers about the mythical “city of Z.”
By the time I turned the last page, I was impressed by Grann’s achievement. I was intrigued by Fawcett and his exploits. But unlike those newspaper readers of a century ago, I was not enthralled.
I was ready for the next YouTube video.
© 2010-2024 grouchyeditor.com (text only)
