pun·dit  

/ˈpəndit/

Noun An expert in a particular subject or field who is frequently called on to give opinions about it to the public.

Synonyms scholar - savant - pandit

One word I don't like at all is pundit. But that's no excuse for not being able to pronounce it properly. Almost as annoying and frequent as George Bush's "nucular" (almost, because nothing is as annoying as that) is the pronunciation "pundint". I don't know where the speakers got that extra "n" but I've heard it from Chris Matthews, from Rev Sharpton and, of course,  from Republicans who you expect to be ignorant. It's even on a Sondheim concert CD I have that is perfect but for that mispronunciation from a chorus member.  The irony is that the definition of the word suggests someone wise and mispronouncing it is dumb. Speaking of irony, where did so many announcers get the idea that irony is pronounced eye-on-knee. It's not. It's eye-ron-knee. How did so many semi-literate people get in front of the camera?

What's he so afraid of?

I didn't have the sound on on the tv because I was doing a crossword puzzle. But I planned on turning it on in a while since this was such a big news week. When I looked up I saw this nice looking man looking very distressed. There was something about him that was familiar and at the same time gay. Perhaps it was his well-coiffed and colored hair or his angry dramatic facial expressions. They made me think he was complaining about his treatment as a gay man before the death of DOMA. Whatever it was he looked very agitated and far more emotional and distressed than the newscaster who was interviewing him. I turned on the volume to hear what he was saying, after all it might be an amusing hissy fit.. It turns out it was. It was Tony Perkins, President of the Family Research Council and, I suspect, a very severe closet case.

You can't say that.

I think America is in a very bad situation right now. We are so outraged about Paula Deen. Her use of the N word has caused us to penalize her with contract cancellations including closing down her tv show and making her apologize publicly. This week Alec Baldwin apparently made some slurs that has the news chiding him. I don't like racial or sexual epithets any more than anyone else, but I put much value on freedom of speech than I do on the language of bigots. I think Americans should be able to say whatever they like. That's one of the greatest freedoms of this country. If people are offended with Paula Deen, let them stop buying her product or watching her show. Let the American people show their scorn by avoiding such people or not patronizing them. But don't let corporations afraid of not seeming democratic be the arbiters of what's appropriate. Don't insist that someone has to be penalized or ostracized because they used a word of which most of us do not approve. Freedom of speech is too valuable to hand over or abolish because some people use ignorant comments about others.

A guy who's morally upright.

Pity that Rick Perry was so pissy this week with Texas state Sen. Wendy Davis regarding her her all-day filibuster of an abortion bill in Austin. Especially this week when Perry should be so happy that he doesn't have to be in the closet any more or hire male prostitutes to perform for him now that the Supreme Court has struck down DOMA. Of course there are still those who say those are rumors and therefore false. But you can look it up on the Ineternet and decide for yourself. I frankly feel the evidence is pretty compelling. Of course he can prove it's all a lie very easily since one of the hustlers complained that Perry had a very small penis. Prove it isn't small and all these rumors may go away. 

Note: I'm not sure, but I think Governor Perry is holding up his finger to make a point, not to show you the size of his manhood. 

Piece of ****

At a time when Paula Deen is being punished over a remark she made years ago, I cannot understand why the HLN network has as a panelist a person named Frank Taafe, an obvious racist. Taafe has a history of being anti-black and on this network he makes it very clear that he thinks Zimmerman was in the right to kill this young boy walking through his neighborhood. Not only is he a racist, but he isn't even literate and makes lots of grammatic errors. How did he ever get on television? I'm not surprised that there are low-life bigots like this ignorant man,but it is a mystery why this network would even consider someone so filled with hate and bias to be on a supposedly unbiased panel.

This guy believes in Noah and the Great Flood. Really.

I admire Real Time with Bill Maher because he often has Republicans on to make sure both sides of an issue are presented. And though they often annoy me, there are generally intelligent and articulate and worth listening to. But on tonight's show one of the guests was an Uncle Tom Republican whom I have never seen before. This guy whose name was Horace Cooper, was one of those morons who lives to argue against logic and facts.  There was no issue that he didn't cause an immediate and conservative reaction. But he really proved himself a complete ass when he revealed that he didn't believe in global warming, despite all the scientific evidence. And—worse—that he did believe in Noah. I find it astonishing that anyone who can have a job as a journalist can be so mired in ignorance that they can accept biblical fables as real. Not only was this Horace Cooper a fat bigot wildly comfortable in his own pathetic ingnorance, but he proudly named one of the main reasons for his narrow, bigoted stupidities: He was born and raised in Texas.

Don't give to anyone, just everyone.

I don't get it. We are constantly told not to tell anyone our Social Security number as it could lead to identity theft and other frauds. Yet, so many businesses won't even deal with you unless you provide them with your Social Security number. I just tried getting my supposedly free credit report from Equifax (one of America's most annoying and intrusive companies) but when I wouldn't give my SS#,
they completely shut down on me and kept repeating the same recorded crap over and over. How do you protect your Social Security number when every doctor, dentist, and credit insists on having it before they will provide you with any service?

Under attack.

Today during the Zimmerman trail the defense lawyer was hostile, ridiculing and insulting to black witness Rachel Jeantel who speaks three languages: English, Spanish and Creole. He particularly made it clear that she cannot read cursive writing. Despite that I thought she was spunky, honest and terrific. On the other hand he was wonderfully deferential to attractive blonde witness who has lived in the United States for twelve years and does not speak English. Racist?  You decide.

Note: Later tonight on Jane Velez-Mitchell's "panel of experts", panelist Phillip Snyder referred to her testimony as "precious", then denied he was making any reference to the movie of the same name which also featured a large black not-bright girl. Liar. The other Zimmerman male fan, Frank Taaffe, at once ridiculed her ignorance and then said that she created a mellage of lies. There is, of course, no such word. This better-than-though ignoramus meant melange.

Defending the indefensible.

Am I the only person who feels that the defense lawyers in the Zimmerman case are treating the black witnesses as if they were retarded? They clearly do not address them as intelligent women, but speak to them as if they are children who need extra attention.When cross-examining Selene Bahadoor who saw a part of the altercation from her kitchen window, Mark O'Mara for the defense practically called her a liar and later suggested that she might have gotten her sister to back up her "false" story. For some bizarre reason the news media on HLN seem to be on Zimmerman's side, though there is no excuse for him following Trayvon, confronting him, and killing him. Zimmerman is an arrogant vigilante carrying a gun and feeling like a macho enforcer who notably seems to have a thing against African Americans. Now this overweight no-affect slob sits in the courtroom confident that he will walk away from this crime and go on to celebrity and possibly a kind of wealth he never would have achieved without murdering this innocent boy on his way home to his loving family.

"I Helen take thee Maria...."

I feel just awful that defense of marriage act is dead. I mean it's obviously god's plan is for one man to be with one woman. This is holy law. I mean, it's like, in the bible. And this is why there is no such thing as divorce, orphanages, abandoned children, abused children, single mothers, single fathers, infidelity, abortion, and prostitution. Once a man marries a woman as god wanted, they are as true as swans and never sway from their vows of loyalty, fidelity, and truthfulness. So I don't know how gay people can possibly feel they have any right to intrude on anything as god-given and flawless as the love between one man and one woman.

Not another one.

This is another odd commercial. For starters this spokesperson doesn't look much like any others. I am sure the casual dress has some subliminal meaning, though I don't know what it could be. And while he's attractive and appealing enough, he can't seem to pronounce the name of the advertiser. It sounds like he says chivago, zhivago, almost anything but Trivago. I also don't understand what the service is. I sounds like he's saying that since most hotels are so deceitful, they have no actual rates, so you have to go through a list and find the lowest price. But I may have that wrong. Regardless, do we really need another hotel search site? I personally have had no luck with any of them, and find their rates as high and sometimes higher than the hotel—that is if you can find the phone number of the hotel.

Talk about over-promise!

Of all the obnoxious and offensive commercials on television, this is one of the worst. First of all this dissonant song is annoying as hell and leaves on rushing for the mute button.  Then, of course, there is the obvious sexism, that "someday he'll call and she'll come running". But most offensive of all is that this profit-making company is suggesting that they will find "god's match for you". Being an atheist, I, of course, feel there is no fated match for you. And if there were I would hope god would have a better way to pair you up than by having you sign on to a costly dating service. All ChristinMingle can guaranteee you is that some other Christian will share the same backward and bizarre magic thinking delusions that you suffer from, thus providing you with a biased and prejudiced beginning to an intellectually unsound relationship which is doomed from the beginning by the couple's shared narrow thinking.

Guilty.

I don't understand why so many experts feel that Zimmerman will be acquitted of the charge or murder. Trayvon is coming home from the store. Zimmerman in his car thinks he's suspicious because he's black. He tells the police his suspicions. They say do not follow him. The leaders of the Crime Watch group told Zimmerman many times to never follow or confront a suspect. Zimmerman ignores all this advice, follows Trayvon and ends up shooting him to death. I don't care if it's self-defense or not. If he hadn't followed Trayvon and profiled him, the kid would be alive today. How can there be any justification for this death.  What difference does it make what witnesses say?  What difference does it make if Trayvon hit him first (which I doubt)? I don't even care if Zimmerman thought he was doing a good for the community. George Zimmerman through his arrogance, vigilantism, and unwillingness to obey police instructions, followed Trayon, confronted Trayvon, and killed Trayvon. What other facts does anyone need to know? Why is there a trial at all?  Zimmerman followed Trayvon who would have kept going home to his family who loved him.  But this thug prevented that by killing him. Case closed.

They're nice, but where did they come from?

More and more I am aware that companies and corporations want nothing to do with human contact. Often when I look up a company on the Internet, there is no telephone number, and it takes an arduous search to find one and often I cannot. Today I purchased plastic dinner plates for an upcoming party. The label said nothing about the country of origin. These days I am highly motivated to purchase items made in America and very averse to purchasing items made in China, not only because I don't want to support their slave labor economy, but I don't trust the safety and purity of their products. I was told by a friend if there is no country of origin listed on the product, it means it's Made in America. I am not sure I believe that. But at any rate my endless searching led me to a run-around at Kohl's, and eventually to a manufacturer named EMI Yoshi, maker of Gourmet Home Products. It came as no surprise that there was no human being to answer the phone, and I was told to leave message. I have found that companies rarely call back so I left invective instead. Apparently lots of companies, including Amazon carry their wares, but nobody seems to have any idea of where they are from. This is only one small irritant in a year when I found it nearly impossible to reach a human being at many leading companies. My new rule will be to stop purchasing anything from anyone I cannot reach. I would love it if others adopted this same rule.

Not another Mother-in-law spot!

One of the surest signs of a lack of creativity is the supposedly funny mother-in-law commercial. It's what a creative team grinds out and pawns on the client when they have no other valid ideas. This BMW commercial is a perfect example of this kind of cliche, and just one of hundreds of variations on a theme that was tired in 1966 and is exhausted today. Plus it's another example of the war on women. The suggestion is always that the man's mother-in-law is a pain in the ass, which is an indictment of millions of women. You rarely, if ever, see a commercial that's an attack on the father-in-law. Shame on BMW for dragging out such a prehistoric idea to promote cars that I am sure are also purchased by lots of constantly maligned mothers-in-law.

It's true. It's true.

For a long time I had heard from certain persons that CDs did not have the clarity and richness of LPs. This always sounded like Luddites complaining about modern technology. And since I hadn't heard an LP in a long time, I had no means of comparison. Then I started to hear that certain rock artists insisted that their albums also be produced in LPs because the sound was better. I still didn't know for sure. The sound system I have is used for television, CDs, and DVDs. Two Christmases go, a friend gave me a turntable to add to the system. Something I never did. A, because all my records were in storage and, B,, being a Luddite myself I figured I'd never be able to hook it up. But recently I took all the records out of storage and arranged them in bookcases. And today I finally got around to hooking up the turntable. Fortunately I was alone because it was so simple I felt like an idiot for waiting so long. Now that it was set up, I had to test it.  But with which of more than 2000 records? I decided on one I hadn't heard for decades, a combination concert/show piece that nobody plays anymore: Manhattan Towers. I put the record and waited to see if I made the right connections. Apparently I did, because suddenly I heard music so rich, so clear and so vibrant that it was instantly clear to me that LPs are indeed superior to CDs. True you can hear scratches and you have to turn them over to hear side two, but the richness of sound is well worth it. Listen for yourself some time. You may not agree. I don't really care because I'm thrilled to have the joy of listening to all my old records again with a fidelity I had forgotten.

Heros?

I feel like a Martian. It is inconceivable to me that hard-working, everyday people spend high prices for tickets to a game to watch sweaty millionaires bounce a ball across a court and dump it into a net.Then these same "spectators" feel a sense of personal pride when these total strangers who didn't even grow up in their community win against equally wealthy competing strangers. Not only do they feel a great sense of pride, though they have actually done nothing but sit on their asses drinking beer and eating nachos, they are heartbroken and depressed when these millionaires don't win the game. To make it even more bizarre, when these strangers win the championship, these work-a-day spectators go insane with proud admiration and even arrange for the city to close down traffic lanes to have a parade in their honor. A parade! Because they bounced the rubber ball better than anyone else, and managed to get it to fall into a net more often. The entire city goes out to honor these persons who more make money than most of them will ever see in lifetime. And for what?  Playing a game. Yet nobody seems to begrudge them the spoils of this occupation or comment on the incredible inequality. It's so foreign to me, I would think it was rare. But it is so ubiquitous that every week dozens of strangers will say to me, "Whadya think of that game". Nothing. I'm from Mars.

Scam warning.

Tonight, I got this e-mail, which I am sure has been sent to mllions of other people Sadly

the internet has opened up all kinds of opportunities for scam artists. Since I don't have a Internet Banking Account and no connection with Wells Fargo, I could spot this instantly as a fraud. Lots of others may not be so aware.

Due to our security update you need to update some details on your Online Account..
Your Internet Banking account has been temporarily suspended for your protection.

Click_To_Update_Account_Now!

Notice : If you fail this procedure before 24 h, we will be forced to suspend your Account indefinitely, because of the risk which can contain.

---

.© 1999 - 2013 Wells Fargo. All rights reserved. NMLSR ID 3998

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A giant bore.

In 1952, the latest Abbott and Costello feature was Jack and the Beanstalk. It was, naturally, a retelling of the famous fairy tale featuring the decades most popular comedians. It wasn't a very good film, but if I recall Lou and Bud had their moments. Other than Arthur Shields, the cast were mostly unknowns. The budget was under $700,000. The reason  am telling you this is that 65 years later Warner Brothers has released a multi-million dollar film called Jack the Giant Slayer, another retelling of the beanstalk story.  While the film may have appeal to undiscriminating children, I found it tedious, badly directed, and—as one critic so wisely put it—soulless.  This despite attractive leads, great special effects, and lavish sets and costume. So, this isn't actually a movie review, it's a complaint: Why should a B programmer filmed in 1952, which isn't all that good, still be more entertaining than a major Hollywood feature filmed 61 years later?

Note: Jack and the Beanstalk, like the Wizard of Oz, begins in sepiatone and changes to color.

A very leaky concept.

I'm sorry, but these commercials are ridiculous. Who came up with the absurd concept that you can sell adult diapers to men if you equate it with manhood? Not being a sports fan, I haven't a clue who Tony Siragusa is, but his repeating, "guard your manhood" does not make me feel that urinary leakage is macho.

Three blind mice.

How did the Bushes get back any credibility?  As far as I can see it's a family of thugs ruled by a matriarch who makes James Cagney's mother in White Heat look tame. These people have no shame, no conscience, no intellectual curiosity. The old man wasn't much of a president, and there is reason to believe, as a pilot in World War II, he cowardly abandoned his crippled plane and sent his comrades to die.  Of course his son was an even greater disaster since he abandoned all reason and morality and sent thousands to die to satisfy his ego and that of his satanic pal Cheney. And Jeb, while a good enough governor, reflects the same lack of brain power and humanity that curses the rest of the family. But because he is not as obviously stupid as George, many see him as bright. And, keep in mind, there are other siblings who have their own list of shady business deals, sexual romps, and even a national banking scandal. This is a classless family notable for gaffes, misspeaks, abused privilege, wasted wealth, dangerous ambition, and low-brow interests. The old lady had it right when she said, "We've had enough Bushes"

Winning commercial?

A good friend and super-talented art director (a rarity these days) sent me this commercial with the message, "Great concept. Wonderful execution." I agree on both points.  But, as good as it is, I'm not sure I like warfare shown as dramatic and creative in any form. I think this spot is too good by far since it does speak to me so much of hay fever as of helicopters, jungle warfare, and a peaceful landscape under attack.

Step 2 or 3 maybe.

This is a man who clearly never completed the 12-step Program.

Smart money.

I really like these orange money commercials. It's refreshing to see consumers not risking their future by buying the best and latest products. I think making some of the money orange is a very clever way to remind that if you don't save you'll end up with nothing. I congratulate ING for coming up with such an intelligent and consumer-encouraging campaign.

Great actor. Not much else.

Very rarely do I read a biography that makes me come away disliking the author. But that is what happened when I read Christopher Plummer's book. In Spite of Myself. Essentially Plummer is a braggart, a name-dropper, a liar and a drunk. According to him he's met every famous person of the 20th century and they all adored him. Many of his anecdotes were highly questionable if not downright unbelievable. And, most interestingly,  I don't think there was a page in the book when he wasn't downing some alcoholic beverage in large volumes. It's a pity really because he did have a privileged life, met the most important persons of his time, and, I'm sure, had enough real experiences so that he didn't have to invent any. If he were a person of more depth, this very-well-written 650-page book would have been filled with wonderful insights  (like Noel Coward's diaries, for instance). But it was a me-me-me bio all the way. The most amusing thing to me was by page 580, I noticed that he never seemed to have a single pet. In fact that only animal I think he mentioned was a bull in Spain where was, naturally, rooting for the matador who, to my delight, was gored. Shortly after noticing this, he wrote the following, "Fuff* and I loved dogs with a devotion bordering on obsession." From then on, he has lots to say about the dogs in his life, which was the only part of this self-congratulatory book that showed any kind of tenderness and humanity.


*His third or fourth wife.

Bloody good show.

Last night I watched the concert version of Sweeney Todd, The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, starring George Hearn and Patti Lupone. It was, as always, thrilling, scary and a marvel of brilliant music and lyrics all amazingly created by one genius: Stephen Sondheim.  Curious to see how this show was received when it first opened in March 1, 1979, I checked the reviews. Clive Barns of The Post raved about the show, but, being a critic had to add his little carp which was the Len Cariou and Angela Lansbury were "playing in different styles," Bullshit. Richard Eder of The Times also gave it a rave review couched in pretentious rhetoric and such overblown words as "coruscating". Walter Kerr of the Times had the most irritating rave. Seems the poor old critic was puzzled as to why the creators of Sweeney Todd went to all that trouble, causing him to ask that most irritating of unnecessary questions, "What is this musical about."  Poor Walter, he needed a message. He couldn't just enjoy an exciting tale and sure to be classic lyrics and music. No.  He needed to go home with a message. Sadly so many people who consider themselves theater mavens suffer the same kind of "I need a message" delusion. Only Douglas Watt of The Daily News had the intelligence to give Sweeney Todd  an unqualified and enthusiastic rave and, further, cite the sublime merits of the individual songs. Now I am sure someone like Walter Kerr will ask why did I write this blog? What's it about? Nothing. I just felt like it.

And the connection between the log and the car is....?

Call me dense. But I fail to see the connection between this sentimental and insipid vignette and pushing Audi automobiles. What exactly did she make him? A key ring from her bathing suit strap? Not much of a gift considering how much trouble he went through to come up with that obvious prop from the agency's art department. What's the message here? Even if you don't have especially bright kids, you can still own a nice car.

Grow up, Booking.com!

I find these Booking commercials pathetic. Partly because they depend so much on borrowed interest. They look like every other one of these "tacky families find glorious resort" spots. But what's really offensive is their juvenile need to associate the word "booking" with "fucking". Who comes up with this classless approach, a 15-year-old creative team? With so many hotel discount websites around, would I used one so vulgar and lowbrow? As they would say, "no booking way".

Think of it as a cookie jar, Darrell.

Seeing Darrell Issa caught red-handed and exposed as a partisan fraud who had no interest in justice but had every intention of falsely tarring  the president was great. It was like the ending of a gangster film when the cold-blooded mob leader dies in a barrage of bullets. It was like a coming of age film where the manipulative bully loses the school election, the beautiful cheerleader and complete face in one humiliating  moment. It was like a Japanese horror film of the 50s where the huge, slimy, emotionless worm is finally overcome with an atomic weapon and sinks painfully into the sea. Of course, unlike those gangsters, bullies and worms, this one will be back. So, we can expect "Curses foiled again" Darrell to make more attempts to discredit the White House until the people of California call for his head.

"Here's your 20 bucks, now go catch a bus.!"

I find this a very strange commercial. While I hate to sound so shallow, I think this actor is very peculiar looking.  But forgetting that, it appears they have come home from an evening out. So why is the kid still awake? Also since they seem to be seeing their child for the first time later in the commercial, it doesn't look like the couple ever went into the house, but are dumping the babysitter at the front door. And if they want to "express their gratitude" to Olivia, why not give her a ride home instead of sending her on the bus late at night. And what's with the Paris theme? Does it have some kind of subliminal meaning? And why did the art director style Olivia's hair a la stripper Betty Page?

Tonto and Mrs. Doubtfire

Since it hasn't yet been released, I haven't seen 2013's The Lone Ranger. But I have seen enough promotional materials to be impressed with Johnny Depp as Tonto. Now I don't know if Depp has this same look throughout the movie but if he does, I think I'll skip the film. Why? Because while a sense of realism isn't important to a lot of people, it is to me. And, frankly, I can't imagine Tonto getting up every morning from his blanket on the ground and doing this complex makeup job on his face—and getting it exactly the same every day. I had the same problem with Mrs. Doubtfire. There was Robin Williams performing in minutes a transformation that took the makeup artists hours. The absurdity kills the credibility of the rest of the film. Now, while I detested Mrs. Doubtfire, I suspect that The Lone Ranger just might be an exciting western and Depp is always worth watching. So, I hope I'm wrong about the makeup situation. Still, if I'm not,  I don't enjoy movies that have a strong, "Give me a break!" element.

Much ado about something.

Something I shouldn't admit since I am such a theater fan, and always have been, is that I don't get Shakespeare. Not only don't I get it, I find it incredibly tiresome and often laughable, even the best productions. And worse, I suspect that most people that rush off to the latest Hamlet or Macbeth are not that enamored either.(Close and honest friends have admitted as much.)  Let us say that Shakespeare, like Tennessee Williams, is very entertaining, then each of the plays would be worth a production or two every now and then. But Shakespeare festivals in every major city? And dozens of Hamlets with everyone from Olivier to Mel Gibson. I mean how many ways can you chat with a skull. And if Shakespeare is so damned good why are they constantly trying to update it to some other locale or time period other than where the Bard based it. I don't question that Will wrote some fabulous speeches like "To be or not to be" and "Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow"  and I am crazy about everything Othello says just before he kills Desdemona. But do I really want to sit through the entire play and go through every "methinks" and "doth"for these little gems? No! I think the reason we are deluged with so much Shakespeare is that actors love doing it. One, it gives them a chance to emote. And, two, it's hard to tell if they're doing a good job or not. So call me a Philistine, a barbarian, a boor, I think that Shakespeare's plays, brilliant as they may be, are boring. And since I've probably already offended many readers, I might as well admit it: I don't like opera either.

Crazy is back!

If you had any doubts at all about the validity of Fox News, all you have to know is that they wisely dumped Sarah Palin, their highest paid news whore, and now they have foolishly welcomed her back into their seraglio to spout her usual unresearched, ignorant. dishonest and angry talking points. She opened her new network run with the three stooges of  Fox and Friends who treated her as if she had a brain.Among her idiotic and mendacious loonyisms were the following: "I'm writing a book about Christmas and pushing back on the politically correct who have tried to take Christ out of Christmas." She added that it was,"at the same time a very festive and happy and jolly book about tradition and recipes and fun things about Christmas." First of all there is no politically correct attempt to take Christ out of Christmas. That is a Republican invention. And if she is so eager to have Christ in Christmas, then perhaps she should leave out all that festive and jolly nonsense and skip those recipes as they were all founded in paganism and are not biblical. But, most amusing, is her quote, "I'm writing a book." Yeah, right!

A good movie to avoid.

With most films, you can tell whether you like them within fifteen minutes. Sometimes you can tell within five minutes if the camera work sucks or the the music is really annoying. But I saw a movie tonight that I knew was rotten from the moment it opened. The film was a Good Day to Die Hard. I figured, how bad could it be? Some of the earlier films in this franchise were great. The original was fabulous. The one with Jeremy Irons was the first loser, but even that wasn't that bad. But this one: A Good Day to Die Hard yelled loser from the moment it opened. Why? Because some idiot art director created titles that you could barely read. So I said to myself, If somebody got away with this kind of stupidity what can we expect from this film.  Once we got through the unreadable credits, the next disaster was the film was so dark. Every scene had you squinting to see what as going on.Then, voila, came the subtitles: translations of what the Russians were saying.  Now these subtitles were so small that I could barely read them on my seven-foot projection image. How could anyone read them on a 25" tv? Yup, this film was off to a very bad start. And it continued to that course. The script was non-existent. The situations unbelievable. The car chases endless. And, saddest of all, Bruce Willis looked old and puffy and his acting was weak. Why am I writing this?  Because I cannot understand how a group of professional people can spend millions of dollars on creating a movie, and nobody, but nobody says, "The credits are too unreadable," "The subtitles are too small," 'The script sucks," "There are too many car chases," and "Bruce Willis is a star, why aren't we showing him at his best." Why? Because the Die Hard franchise is considered critic-proof and while the critics felt this film was crap, it still did well at the box office. That's why movies are so bad today because the producers discovered that they don't have to be good.

No cheers for Cheerios.

There's been a lot of fuss about this commercial. It seems the nation's bigots, of which they are zilions, objected to a multi-racial family. So, not surprisingly, this commercial got lots of mail faulting it for letting this adorable child have a white mothers and black father. An idiotic and ignorant complaint, of course. But I must tell you I object to this commercial for other reasons.  For starters I dislike Cheerios, and always have, for making false health claims for their sugary cereal. I doubt that eating Cheerios has any actual benefit on your heart. Years ago, they pushed this stuff on kids suggesting that it made you big and strong. "He's feeling his Cheerios" was constantly on children's programming. The other annoying aspect of this commercial is that this child would have to be a moron to think that pouring Cheerios on her sleeping father would provide him with health benefits. I guess everyone was so outraged about the bigotry of this commercial, they didn't notice the stupidity.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

The thing I hate most about Miami is the same thing I hated most about Los Angeles: The constant droning of gardening tools, notably leaf blowers. Every single day, unless we're lucky enough to have a  thunderstorm, somebody is running a lawnmover, hedge trimmer, lawn edger, or leaf blower. Each one has a loud, monotonous, maddening sound to it that can be heard blocks away. Also, since Miami is the world's capital of thoughtless people and zero law enforcement, many of these gardening services start their motors as early as 6:30 or 7:00 am. I read recently that South Miami is considering banning leaf blowers. I applaud them. I know all across America many communities have forbidden their use. Sadly Miami is not one of them,

What happened?

This is an odd commercial. It's odd because it's correct. She correctly says,"  I wish we could lie here forever." But it's not the commercial that's running every night in Miami, at least. The same spot has the woman saying, incorrectly, "I wish we could lay here all night." Now for awhile VW changed it, and ran the correct version for a couple of weeks, then all of a sudden we're back to "lay". I wonder why. I'm sure there's a story behind this.

Go, ahead, type this. I dare you.

If you're a company that depends on receiving e-mails for whatever reason and you require a captcha code for such e-mails to get through, you're an idiot. Because 9 times out of 10, those codes are absolutely either unreadable or untypable. This week I gave up on four companies to whom I was going to give business because each time I typed their bizarre captcha, I was told I didn't do it correctly.
They kept providing a new one, which I seemed to be just as inept at translating to the screen.  In each case, I finally just gave up in total frustration. I don't know who devised this insane system, but I am sure it works only a fraction of the time.

Duh.

As much as I love Jeopardy, they do some things that drive me mad. Notably they seem to have no real idea of what is a difficult and what is an easy question. Often when they ask a hard question, they'll throw in just enough clues to make it easy. Example (not actual) "She was born Ruby Stevens and went on to star in such films as Double Indemnity?" If you didn't know Barbara Stanwyck from Part I, Part II is sure to give it to you. But mostly they fall down during Final Jeopardy. This is especially annoying during a tight game because often, not always,  the answer is so easy you'd have to be a fool not to know it. Here is last night's Final Jeopardy in the category, "19th Century Names": "This French engineer once asked, 'Why should we disguise the industrial nature of iron, even in the city?'" Give me a break! Is there anyone who can't figure that out. How many French engineers come to mind. Naturally all three contestants answered "Eiffel" correctly, making it impossible for those behind to catch up, thus the game ended before Final Jeopardy. And to make it even more bizarre when this happens, Alex will say something like, "Of course." indicated that he knew they would all guess it. Jeopardy is still the most challenging game on television, but I wish they'd  make Final Jeopardy the hardest part of the show.

Note: Regarding the Final Jeopardy above. I don't drink. I certainly don't have a motorcycle. But it's no great stretch to come up with this correct question.

Ugh.

Not only is this an annoying self-serving commercial whose main idea of a generous phone company is an oxymoron, but this derelict is repulsive.

Oh, Tony.

Last night was the Tony's, the only awards show I like. But other than the opening number, which was brilliant and has since been accused by the idiotic Daily Mail  of harboring a racist epithet,  I found nothing on Broadway that would appeal to me. First of all I hate and despise Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf. I will never understand the success of this bitter scream fest in which you are confined for an entire evening with four unlikeable people.  Tracy Lett is the lucky man who won the best actor Tony to put beside all those writing awards for his play August, Osage County, which I thought was the world's most honored soap opera. I wouldn't see Kinky Boots on a bet, though I am sure is a brilliantly performed, feel-good treat to those who like that kind of show. I refuse to see any money-grubbing Disney show no matter how good the reviews. Cinderella (happily not Disney's) looked charming, though it is a lesser and kind of flat Rodgers and Hammerstein score. Pippin is probably excellent, but it was never one of my favorite shows. Besides it was free on television way back in 1981. I have no interest in seeing anything written by the hackneyed and overrated Christopher Durang.  Matilda is a child of whom I know nothing other than that I confuse her with Madeline. I am sure The Nance is probably good and more than likely A Trip to Bountiful is the best thing on Broadway, although the much admired Cicely Tyson has always been a rather pompous windbag. So you see, I'm not really hot for Broadway, which has been nothing but disappointing lately. I actually walked out on two recent Sondheim revivals, something I thought I would never do.  The material was brilliant, the direction listless. The latest West Side Story was a loud and tedious evening—well, half an evening— despite the producers trying to spice it up with Spanish dialog. Most recently I saw The Big Knife, which had a fabulous set surrounding talented actors in a dated play. You probably think I am being too hard on the New York theater, but keep in mind the average decent ticket to any Broadway show today is at least $100, whether it has a cast of two or fifty.

Birth of a musical.

When I lived in Los Angeles between 1990 and 1994, I tried writing comedy skits. It search of themes, it occurred to me that I could make a short comic play out of the most forgotten American president, Millard Fillmore. However, after researching his life at the Beverly Hills Library, I found he was far more interesting and sympathetic than I would have imagined. Also that his wife was a very admirable person, a well-read, anti-slavery ex-schoolteacher who created the White House library. Sadly she died in Washington City, as D.C. was then known, shortly after they moved out of the White House and were planning a tour of the South. So the comic skit went out the window and I began to write a serious musical about this reluctant president and his love affair with his wife, Abigail. Eventually I finished a show that was very unlikely to be produced since it required a cast of about 25 plus numerous costumes and sets. Not to mention that I didn't have a composer. Several times I got some interest and a few samples of music, but each potential collaborator lost interest in a project that obviously wasn't going anywhere. Realizing the show, then called Milly, was too expensive to produce and too accessible because of its political theme, I began to—as one friend called it—kill my children. I edited the script so savagely that I soon had a completely different musical: a six-to-eight character musical with only a handful of the songs and two sets. Now it was possible and economical. Then I was lucky enough to find L.A. composer, John Dusenberry, on ASCAP's "Collaborators' Corner".  He understood my lyrics. I loved his music. And we both felt an affinity for the Stephen Foster time period, circa 1854. Recognizing the merits of our new "chamber musical" his friend and actor/director, Jack Messenger, agreed to present the show at the popular Manhattan Beach Community Church Theater as its fall production Making it even more ideal was his talented wife Lois Bourgon in the role of Abigail.  There it enjoyed a very well-received  run and got  lots of laughs and—more gratifying to me—lots of tears at the sad climax. Naturally John and I would like to see it produced again, hopefully at an even bigger and more highly budgeted venue. We realize, of course, that there are lots of foot stomping shows out there, including flashy spectaculars and popular standbys. Still, if you know any producer looking for a musical that's easy to stage, inexpensive to prop and tells its audience something about American history while making them laugh and cry at a great American love story, please recommend The Accidental President.

Get ready for summer!

As this popular skit from Britain's Fast Show illustrates, we are in for a very hot summer. Hot would be bad enough, but it looks like we can expect tons of rain, a few hurricanes, and intermittent tornadoes. And buy lots of sun block, because this summer is going to be scorchio.

"...of all sad words of tongue and pen..."

It occurred to me today that there were two giants of the twentieth century whose paths never crossed, or if they did I'm not aware of it. For if they had, what they could have achieved together would be worth a lot of money to a lot of people. I know it would be worth hundreds to me. The giants were Stephen Sondheim and Judy Garland. Anyone familiar with both of these great talents can easily appreciate how fantastic it would be to have Judy sing, "Send in the Clowns", "I'm Still Here", "Not a Day Goes By", or any of the dozens of other Sondheim songs that his fans never, ever get tired of. There's no question that today's greatest talents already sing his songs: Bernadette Peters, Barbara Cook, the late Cleo Laine, Elaine Stritch, Mandy Patinkin and others too numerous to list. But I am sure even they would agree that Garland would bring something unique to Sondheim's songs. His profound understand of love, pain, and  melancholy and her amazing ability to plumb the depths of every emotion were made for each other. Oh, well. If there is a great Garland impersonator out there, let us hope some day to see an album titled,  If Garland Had Sung Sondheim.

At the corner of rip-off and greed.

If you follow this blog, you will know that I love pointing out what a ripoff Walgreen's is. It amazes me that it can have so many outlets and do so well when its prices are insanely higher than anyone else's. Today I went to Target to buy Dove soap. Unfortunately, I forget to remove it from the basket to check it out, but it was four bars for $3.99. When I went to Walgreen's, the price was one bar for $2.49 and at Publix two bars for $3.29. How does Walgreen's get away with it year after year. Is it possible that most of its customers don't realize the inflated prices they are paying for everything in that store?

Now I'm aware that advertising agencies seem to be at a complete loss for new ideas lately, and thus have to borrow from each other. But I must tell you, I am getting really tired of the talking or thinking baby. Borrowed interest—also known as plagiarism—is always annoying. This commercial is particularly offensive since the advertiser has chosen to have the child—since he is at least half African American—cool, hip and stereotypically black. Which reminds me of another copycat trend that drives me wild. It is the African American actress in commercials who has to speak in a Yo Mama fashion because, after all, that's what makes black women so funny and endearing. Tell me those commercials are not racist!

Note: I wonder if insurance companies are particuarly racist advertisers because it occurs to me that one of the most offensive Yo Mama commercials is for Progressive in which a black woman calls out Flo for making her husband so confident he wants to juggle power saws.

"I'm so thrilled this complete stranger won!"

Am I odd? I buy lottery tickets twice a week. Now I know the chances of my winning are infinitesimal, especially since I have been buying the same number for twenty years and have never won more than $5.00. Now that's stupid, but it's not odd. Because if I don't buy a ticket, I definitely won't win. Here's what may be odd. I take no joy or interest in hearing about the persons who did win. I don't want to know. I don't want to see their happy faces on the tv, or hear them list all the wonderful things they are going to do with their millions. Yet, every network covers these stories as if we—the multitude of losers—can't wait to hear more about the joyous winner and witness ecstasy of sudden weath that we won't experience. (And I especially don't want to hear horror stories, like the one about the woman who let the winner ahead of her in line.) Call it jealousy on my part, or sour grapes, or just crushing disappointment, but I am not interested in the winners and—frankly—I don't think most people are. I think the networks are kidding themselves by making the winning ticket the big news story. Frankly, I wish they would act like it never even happened.

Paul, just one of many.

If you're a Democrat or an old-school  Republican with integrity, you have to constantly remind everybody that the Republicans in power are liars. They lie constantly. They lie blatantly. They lie about things that have been proven to be lies. They lie about Obama's goals, even about his popularity. They lie about dozens of agreed upon lies and use the same deceptive words and mendacious themes. Rove will tell the same lies as Cantor who will tell the same lies as Boehner and they will use the same words and expressions. Their lies will include incredibly absurd accusations like Fascist, Hitler, World Domination. Rand Paul will spend his day lying, so will Paul Ryan. The bitter John McCain will every day lie away a bit more of his once glowing credibility. Republicans will not lie about the improving economy, the healthy stock market, the lowering unemployment rate. They just will never mention them. Instead they will lie about their favorite lie, Benghazi; and, second on their hit parade, the IRS. They will lie to destroy people: Eric Holder, Susan Rice, the president himself. And while they devote all their energies to lies and President Obama's destruction, they do nothing else. They take your money, and they enjoy their perks, and bask in their elevated situations and actually believe that all their lies will pay off because they think the American people, and that's you, believe everything they say.

A picure is worth, etc.

In this photo, I want to know where Eric Cantor's hands are and why John Boehner has that perplexed look on his face.

Books I keep reading in spite of myself.

Next to reading true crime, I like biographies best. I prefer them to be about people in the entertainment field: actors writers, lyricists, composers, movie stars. Often I will read a biography of someone I don't particularly like and come away with a new affection and respect. Other times I will read a bio of someone I like a lot and come away less than a fan. I have found that actors who led sane lives are boring, like Ronald Coleman. And that most tell-alls don't tell all at all. The most gossipy and honest bio I ever read was Change Lobsters and Dance by Lilli Palmer. I say honest, because she was as hard on herself as everyone else in the book, including cowardly husband Rex Harrison. One of the most dishonest bios I have read was Shelley Winters Shelley, also know as Shirley.  I say dishonest because she had anecdotes which were very hard to believe happened and more often than not glorified her. At one point she stated as unequivocal fact that she and Marilyn Monroe were the two reigning sex symbols of their time. A great actress. Not a realistic one. Actually I am now reading a book which tops Shelley's for sheer bullshit: Christopher Plummer's In Spite of Myself. I admit it is a very well-written book, but I find 50% of it impossible to believe; and the parts I do believe make me dislike him intensely since he is an egoist, a name dropper, a drunk, and a bit of a sadist considering how amusing he finds situations that make fools of innocent victims. One of his more tantalizing anecdotes is when he relates having sex fully dressed at a party while talking to the cuckolded and unaware husband of the woman sitting intimately on Plummer's lap. Totally unbelievable. He never does explain why the husband isn't bothered by his wife sitting on another man's lap. I'm sure it's a total fabrication. And if it were true, it makes him even more detestable than he already is. I'll get through the book because it occurs in a time and in places that I find fascinating, but I will find Plummer an irritating companion. Actually I'm only reading this because I can't find any good murders that I haven't already read. Drat.

A world full of heroes.

With a moniker like The Cranky Copywriter, it's only natural to assume that I am a crabby misanthrope.

Not totally true. In fact, I can become a slobbering sentimentalist about certain news stories, like the two I saw this week. One was about a woman named Lisa Vasiloff, a mother of two, who created a charity called Birthday Wishes. Her mission, begun 11 years ago, is to make sure that homeless children in shelters are not cheated out of birthday parties because of temporary dire straits. She now arranges parties for 186 shelters across three states. To date she has made certain that 48,000 children in shelters have had a birthday celebration with cake, ice cream, and presents. The other story involves several window-washing service in cities such as Portland, Oregon, and Memphis, Tennessee. To brighten the lives of the young and often frightened patients in hospitals, the window washers dress as superheroes to perform their aerial services. Needless the kids are thrilled to see Spiderman and Captain American high in the air, seeming to fly just outside their windows. The idea, which has spread to several children's hospital throughout the country was the idea of 23-year-old Steve Oszaniec of the Chicago-based American National Skyline window cleaning company.

Andrew saves the day.

I am astonished at how ignorant the media is today. Many times every day you can be sure that some airhead announcer or reporter will make a grammatical or logical mistake, or both. This story on Xfinity had the headline "Kid Tries to Cover Embarrassing Mistake". This young man was playing cymbals during the Star Spangled Banner when the strap broke. A broken strap is not a mistake, so that was error number one. Error number two is he didn't try to cover anything. He realized there was nothing that could be done, so he saluted. Smart kid. I don't even think he was all that embarrassed. People in the news should be forced to go back to school the way some people have to brush up on their driving rules.

Disastrous insurance rates.

"One Tulsa World reader noted how his homeowners insurance was increasing from $856 to $1,501 a year due to the rise in nationwide disasters, as his insurance company explained to him."
That was a quote from Tulsa World. I am sure anyone in Florida would be dancing in the streets if they could get an insurance rate of $1,501 a year. Insurance is one of the biggest rackets in the Sunshine State. My 2013 rate for a very strong house that has had only one minor claim in the past twenty years was $4,500. Naturally like every state the policy is a multi-page affair that is nearly impossible to decipher. Those considered uninsurable—like for no good reason, me—are forced to apply with Citizens, the mafia of insurance companies. I can't imagine how most people pay their annual insurance bill, and I am certain that if they don't have a mortgage, they probably don't. Each new governor promises insurance reform, but of course it never happens. Since the damage we have had from hurricanes doesn't begin to approach the devastation of Oklahoma's tornadoes, I wonder why our rates are so incredibly high...other than corruption. 

Please, someone stop this man!

Once upon a time there was a good movie. It was called The Sixth Sense and it was written and directed by M. Night Shyamalan. It was so good and so popular that its creator was hailed as a brilliant new filmmaker and naturally Hollywood was eager to shower him with money and have him create more blockbuster films. And that's then the problem began. Because Mr. Shyamalan did create more films and they were all bad, though he did have some loyal fans, god knows why. The Sixth Sense was followed by the boring Unbreakable, the tedious Signs, and the expanded Twilight Zone steal The Village. Now somebody should have stoppped production, admitted that it was all a mistake and spared moviegoers their foolish optimism and wasted money in expecting another great film. But this egocentric director kept on going, even to the point of making cameo appearances in his own mediocre films. Soon it went from bad to worse when he wrote and directed the nearly unwatchable Lady in the Water and the pretentious The Last Airbender. He also contributed to the laughable elevator movie Devil. With each release, one wondered when are they going to stop this man?  Now we may have our answer since his latest film After Earth has been acclaimed as one of the worst movies ever made. It seems that Will Smith made the huge mistake of agreeing to star in this turkey and the added mistake— in an act of shameless nepostism—of handing the second lead over to his son Jaden.  It's been a critical disaster since nobody other than the egocentric Shyamalan seems happy with the film. Well, that's not completely true. I would guess that John Travolta is thrilled since this turkey may make people forget, for awhile, the previously most-scorned film, Battlefield Earth. One can only hope that this is the swan song for M. Night Shyamalan.