The Grouchy Editor

 

ABC was embarrassed when Oscars host Jimmy Kimmel introduced a tour-bus full of sex offenders and Trump supporters to Hollywood’s liberal elite (above).

 

No word on whether the sex offenders and Trump supporters accepted ABC’s apology.

 

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Can we please ban this phrase from headlines?

 

“[Fill in the blank] Sparks Twitter Outrage”

 

That’s too easy for lazy journalists.

These days, a chipped toenail can “spark Twitter outrage.”

 

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I’m noticing an odd trend with movie titles, in which instructions are barked at the audience, as in Don’t Breathe and Get Out.

 

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I expect that soon we’ll see something like this:

 

 

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What can happen when you are bored

 

• I watched The Tonight Show on Friday and Jimmy Fallon mentioned musician Herb Alpert.
• Alpert brought to mind Sergio Mendes and Brasil ‘66. 
• I found Brasil ‘66 videos on YouTube.
• I read about Brasil ‘66 on Wikipedia.
• I learned that one of the singers, Karen Philipp, lives near me in Minnesota.
• I Googled her name and found this Playboy layout:

 

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Aren’t you glad I was bored?

 

© 2010-2025 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

 

The scenario is familiar by now: Donald Trump will do or say something outrageous, and the media speculation begins. Did Trump really mean what he said? Or was it part of some clever plan? Is Trump “crazy like a fox”?

This ongoing debate about the state of Trump’s mind reminds me of Chance the gardener in Being There, the Jerzy Kosinski novel later adapted into a film starring Peter Sellers.

Here is how Wikipedia describes Chance: “He is simple-minded and has lived there his whole life, tending the garden. Other than gardening, his knowledge is derived entirely from what he sees on television.”

 

 

 

Here is what Politico wrote this week about Trump: “Leaving him alone for several hours can prove damaging, because he consumes too much television and gripes to people outside the White House.”

 

In Being There, no one is quite sure if Chance’s plain-spoken pronouncements are words of genius or the blathering of an idiot. At the end of the story, Chance is the leading contender for President of the United States.

 

 

 

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TV Update

 

The Missing (above) – I’m only halfway through the second season of this Starz import from Britain, but I’m liking what I’ve seen so far. The plot has some credibility gaps (if your 11-year-old child was abducted and then reappeared 11 years later, wouldn’t you still recognize her?), but overall this is a gripping and clever drama. The constant time-shifting between 2014 and “the present” just adds layers to the suspense. Grade:  A-

 

Billions  – It’s like watching two snakes battle to the death. You might not care who wins, because the contestants are both repulsive, but it’s fascinating to see them fight. The “snakes” in this Showtime series, of course, are Paul Giamatti and Damian Lewis.  Grade:  B+

 

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I used to think that the Democrats had all of the hotties on their side of the political fence, what with all of their movie stars and music divas. But Fox News continues to put the lie to that notion. Above, some bodacious babe named Madison Gesiotto joins the panel on Red Eye. Below, Gesiotto displays her assets. Eat your heart out, Lena Dunham.

 

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Look at the superlatives for Oscar frontrunner La La Land:

 

 

I haven’t seen La La Land, but I don’t believe the hype. Hollywood doesn’t make great movies anymore; the good stuff is all on TV. Plus, Ryan Gosling can’t sing.

 

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If there is a picture in Webster’s next to the term “sore loser,” it would surely be this one:

 

 

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Some wit declared that President Trump is now living rent-free in America’s head. I believe this is true, and it’s got to stop.

 

A typical day:

 

8 a.m. – I wake up and check Twitter to ascertain the day’s Trump-related outrage. I read a few tweets from thoroughly unpleasant Trump fans and from equally revolting Trump haters.

8:15 a.m. – After reading these tweets, my day is effectively ruined.

9:00 a.m. – I make coffee and vaguely recall that Starbucks is in trouble for something pro- or anti-Trump-related, can’t say which.

10 a.m. – Trip to the mall and walk by Nordstrom. Wonder if the store is gaining or losing customers based on the Ivanka flap.

Noon – Have lunch at a Mexican restaurant. Wonder if the Hispanic employees are shooting me hostile glances, or if I’m just imagining it.

2 p.m. – Home again. Time to check in with Twitter. More hostile tweets, from the public and from Trump himself.

5 p.m. – Decide to surf a little porn. Stumble on a site featuring Russian hookers peeing on one another.

7 p.m. – Prime time for cable news. Must select among Fox outrage, MSNBC outrage, or CNN outrage.

10:30 p.m. – Need relief from all the Trump coverage; time for some comedy. Fallon, Kimmel, and Colbert all doing monologues on the Trump administration.

Midnight – Time for bed. Can’t sleep. Visions of Steve Bannon and Rosie O’Donnell keeping me awake.

 

This cannot continue. I’d move to another country, but all of them seem to be equally obsessed with Trump. Also, they all have Twitter.

 

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One Last Football Story

 

 

© 2010-2025 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

A thoughtful, measured meditation on Trump:

 

 

Our poor celebrities. When it comes to President Trump, they are damned if they do, damned if they don’t. Just ask Tom Brady or Ashley Judd.

Seems like celebrities have three choices: Blast Trump like Madonna did and anger half the country, “embrace” Trump like Matthew McConaughey did and anger the other half of the country, or just shut the hell up.

 

Probably best to just shut the hell up.

 

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“Dandy Drunk” Don Lemon interviewed the director of a new film called I Am Not Your Negro (above).

I recall thinking when I first saw that title: “This thing is going to set box-office records.”

 

… Sometimes I lie to you.

 

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I don’t understand it. Unlike, say, Sarah Palin, Trump does not come off like a complete idiot at press conferences or in sit-down interviews. But on Twitter he often sounds like a drunken 10-year-old:

 

 

Maybe someday we’ll discover that it was really Barron doing the tweeting.

 

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Hollywood types embarrassed themselves all week, but my vote for most ridiculous, “we are clueless” moment came when Saturday Night Live’s Sasheer Zamata and Cecily Strong, above, performed a saccharine tribute to Barack Obama by warbling “To Sir With Love.”

They both needed a cold shower, and I needed a brown paper bag.

 

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Conservatives missed a golden opportunity in the culture wars when Mary Tyler Moore died. Liberals hailed Moore as a “feminist icon,” but according to that bastion of infallible information, Wikipedia, in reality she was a fan of Bill O’Reilly, Charles Krauthammer, John McCain and Fox News. Oh, and she was not a big fan of real feminist icon Gloria Steinem.

 

 

Speaking of Moore … Oprah toady Gayle King hosted a special about Moore and expressed horror when Her Oprahness revealed that she had once considered taking a newsroom job in my city, Minneapolis, the setting for The Mary Tyler Moore Show. Gasped King, “I’m sorry!”

Hey, at least we aren’t a cesspool of gang warfare and murder like, say … Chicago?

 

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Tucker Carlson and Chris Hayes remind me of each other. They’re both easily excitable and when they get agitated their voices go all high-pitched and squeaky.

 

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I checked out Riverdale, The CW’s new spin on the gang from Archie comic books.

I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that this show will not become Donald Trump’s latest TV obsession – at least not in a positive way.

Let’s see: Archie Andrews, a good-natured klutz in the comics, in the TV series is an angst-ridden, oh-so-sensitive bore. Moose is gay. Miss Grundy is a pedophile. Jughead, such a delightful oddball in the comics, is a humorless scold.

OK, I realize I’m not in the target demographic for this teen-oriented stuff, but gee willikers ….

 

Veronica shows her good side

 

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I sort of – not really, but sort of – feel sorry for Melania Trump, who might be the unhappiest woman in America.

 

She comes from the world of fashion and money – and most of those people believe her husband is a vulgar clown.

Her speeches get mocked.

She’s suing a publication because it accused her of being a former prostitute.

She’s expected to downsize from her ritzy Manhattan digs to the lowly White House.

Her husband is rumored to enjoy watching hookers pee on each other.

Her husband is rumored to have the hots for his own daughter.

Yes, I sort of – but not really – feel sorry for Melania Trump.

 

But then I remember her wealth and privilege and I think: Fuck that noise.

 

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I sort of – not really, but sort of – feel sorry for the talking heads on cable news who are tasked with defending Donald Trump. You simply cannot defend the man. He says and does too many boneheaded or wrongheaded things.

 

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I sort of feel sorry for the media. … Just kidding!

 

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A Tweet

 

 

This is why some of us love Twitter.

 

© 2010-2025 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

 

“The city has the panicked air of a B-horror movie where the townsfolk stand stock still, bug-eyed and frozen, too frightened to flee, waiting for the creature.”

— Maureen Dowd describing Washington D.C. before The Coming of Trump.

 

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Wonder if Trump is enjoying the “honeymoon” traditionally granted new presidents by political foes and the media … LOL!

 

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I just watched a scary movie called Don’t Breathe, which is set in a rundown section of Detroit. Last year, I watched a horror movie called It Follows, which is set in rundown sections of Detroit.

Poor Detroit. It seems to be the go-to-place if you want to frighten audiences.

 

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I can’t bring myself to say anything more about politics. I think about Trump and I get angry. I think about Democrats and I get angry. I think about the press – right-wing and left-wing – and I get angry. I can’t even think about Meryl Friggin’ Streep without getting angry.

 

I suggest we all just forget about politics, for now, and enjoy these pictures:

 

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                                        (Click on pictures for larger views)

 

© 2010-2025 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

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Mariah Carey’s New Year’s Eve performance was unwatchable. Not because of sound problems. No, because her ass is the size of North Korea.

 

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There is a God.

 

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I don’t want to see Ronda Rousey in the ring. I want to see Bill Maher vs. Anthony Bourdain.

 

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Shepard Smith reported, not once but twice, that “Emilio Esteban” was the suspected perpetrator at Friday’s airport shooting in Florida.

I suspect that Shep had recently re-watched The Breakfast Club and was subconsciously wondering whatever became of Emilio Estevez.

 

 

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I don’t blame the Republicans for Trump. After all, they didn’t really want him and, after they got stuck with him, they didn’t think he had a chance in hell of winning.

No, I blame the Democrats for Trump. They pissed off so many people that those voters felt they had no choice but to toss a hand grenade named Trump into the Washington swamp – even when they knew he might blow up the whole damn country.

 

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Random Tweets

 

 

The language is unfortunate, but the point is well taken.

 

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Rip can now die a happy man.

 

*****

 

More Fat America News:

 

 

CBS Evening News did a story about a new tax on sugary drinks in Philadelphia, in which city officials hope “to bring down obesity rates.” CBS interviewed Deputy Revenue Commissioner Marisa Waxman, pictured below, who presumably knows something about obesity.

 

 

© 2010-2025 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

 

Hey, our predictions are as good as anyone else’s.

 

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It’s always sad to see Hollywood legends like Debbie Reynolds pass away.

But Doris Day is still alive. And Kirk Douglas is still alive. And Jerry Lew—

 

 

Oh, never mind.

 

*****

 

 

© 2010-2025 grouchyeditor.com (text only)