After The Las Vegas Shooting, America Remains Addicted To Triggers And In Denial

According to MassShootingTracker.com — and that a website with that name actually exists says everything about America’s sickening gun culture — there have been 337 mass shootings in our country this year before today’s headline grabbing massacre of at least 50 dead with over 100 injured in Las Vegas.

Oh, if only there weren’t more good people with guns in attendance who could have shot back at the madman firing from the 32nd floor. Surely, the only conceivable way to stop something like this from ever happening again is to make sure that everyone is armed.

What, too soon?

Forgive me, I know, I shouldn’t be talking about gun control now. It is disrespectful to the victims and their families. I should remain silent as the usual news cycle plays out, or at least wait until we know more about what happened. But actually what we don’t know yet tells us a lot.

Since the incident has not been labeled “terrorism,” which is exactly what it is, we know there is no evidence as yet that the perpetrator is Muslim. Since race has not been mentioned, we know that the perpetrator is white. Since so many people were shot, we know the perpetrator had an arsenal at his disposal and that it would surprise no one if all of his weapons were legal.

The thing with mass shootings this year is that they have not been especially newsworthy. Just not enough people killed. Admittedly, the year got off to a promising start with four murdered in South Carolina on New Year’s Day, followed by five more in Oregon and five more in Florida over the next week. But with many mass shootings, the victims merely suffer traumatic injures rather than death, and that is so much less sensational. So what if 10 were injured by gunshots, including eight teenagers, in Tennessee? They lived, so what’s news about that?

In June, six were murdered by a former co-worker in Orlando, and while that got some media attention (work place shooting always make for compelling stories and possibly mini-series), with the dead still in the single digits, we couldn’t realistically expect more than 48-hours of coverage.

The Congressional baseball shooting in June was big news because of who was targeted, but again, with so many survivors and the feel-good story of Steve Scalise’s recovery, it now barely qualifies as horrible.

But now we finally have our first horrifically massive shooting of the year, one with sufficient shock value to demand our attention. It is already being called “the deadliest mass shooting in modern U.S. history,” so we are going to be hearing about this one for at least 72 hours before it disappears from the news. At least we can count on the president to respond with great empathy and sensitivity — no, wait.

Here’s the thing: I would like to turn away from this story this morning. Everything about it disturbs and repulses me. But I am sitting here at my desk reflecting on it because it is the only way I know how to express my sorrow for those whose lives were senselessly destroyed for the crime of attending a country music festival. It is also the only way I know how to grieve for my country, a country that has long lost its way as far as the sensible regulation of firearms. Our culture is sick with violence and our gun problem is more symptom than cause, though in reality it is both.

We are addicted to triggers and refuse treatment. And we all know what happens when an addict refuses treatment.

For our culture to get well, we need to enroll in a national 12-step program for guns. We must become deeply aware and take responsibility for the ongoing violence that our culture tacitly permits. Of course, that by itself is not the answer, because there is no singular answer. But until we admit that our guns laws, or rather lack thereof, are a key part of the problem, then we are enablers of the violence we claim to abhor.

The Importance of Reflecting On Your 'Inner Trump'

I was never part of the” Trump’s not my president” crowd, because it was painfully obvious to me from the start that they were in denial. Their denial was understandable, even predictable. After all, the natural reaction of psychologically sound people is to distance themselves as much as possible from Trump, to regard him as he regards Muslims: as the other.

The problem with this line of thinking is that Trump most certainly is one of us. That is precisely what is so distrubing about him. “We have met the enemy and he is us,” as cartoonist Walt Kelly famously said through Pogo. In that sense, Trump is a symptom more than a cause. Donald Trump, the despicable ignoramus real estate developer from New York City who became President, is as American as apple pie.

As Trump tries to reverse everything that President Obama did, short of sending his children back to Michelle’s womb, most Americans look on horrified, or don’t look at all. A conservative friend of mine has taken refuge in sports, a strategy which seemed promising until Trump disinvited Steph Curry and the Golden State Warriors to the White House. Now Trump and the reaction to Trump is headline news on the sports page.

Trump, a virulent force, makes every social problem and international conflict worse. The wounds of slavery run deep; Trump rips whatever scabs have formed open.

For decades, North Korea has been a rogue regime that poses a threat; Trump’s crass rhetoric further inflames international tensions and makes war more likely.

The consequences of climate change have long been of growing concern to scientists and nations around the world; Trump’s withdrawal from the Paris accords makes it much less likely that the problem will be adequately addressed.

Trump, a man of infinite privilege, lives in a swamp of resentment that breeds disease. To see this fact and to be shaken by it is a healthy response. Political resistance to Trump’s agenda is essential. But there is an even more essential task, albeit a highly distasteful one. The task is this:

See Trump as a mirror and reflect on your inner Trump.

Trump is an instinctive, bombastic, sociopathic, vulgar, lying, shallow, racist, misogynistic, self-absorbed, self-assured know-nothing. I, on the other hand, am well-reasoned, open-minded, truthful, tolerant, inclusive, ethical, cooperative and highly intelligent. Trump is evil and I am good. Trump is hateful and I am loving. Trump’s ugliness affirms my beauty. No wonder criticizing Trump and calling out his never-ending transgressions feels so good. It reminds me that I am not at all like Trump.

Trump and his supporters engage in an extremely dangerous kind of psychological projection. To them, all of America’s ills are caused by others: foreigners, gays, Blacks, Hispanics, Jews, atheists and liberals. They themselves are inculpable.

Still, the question must be asked: To what degree are those of us who despise Trump guilty of the same unconscious projection as he and his supporters? A failure to ask this question in earnest and take a personal inventory of our inner Trump is itself Trumpian. Where does our fear, resentment and prejudice live in us and how do we relate to it? Are we even aware of it, or is it all Trump’s fault?

The global outlook is always bleak. As Leonard Cohen sang, “Everybody knows that the war is over, everybody knows that the good guys lost.” I do not mean to suggest that the fight for social and economic justice should not continue. It should; it must. That said, if you want to make the world a better place, make a time and a space to turn inward and consider how what you despise in others lives in yourself.

As long as we regard the biggest problems we face as “out there,” Trumpism rules. 

My Response To The Latest 'Charlie Hebdo' Cover As The Senior Editor Of 'MAD Magazine'

As an editor at “MAD Magazine” for over 30 years, I have long understood that there is no vibrant satire without free speech. I also understand that the best satire does not pummel its targets with a feather and has a fearless quality about it. So, satirists can’t spend too much time worrying — what, us worry? — about how their work will be evaluated by supporters of the target of their satire.

I recently gave a copy of the latest MAD book, “MAD About Trump,” to a Republican neighbor. After reading it, he said, “It’s so offensive to him (Trump), it really crosses a line.”

“We’re just doing our job,” I replied. ”And let’s face it, no matter how hard we try, we can’t possibly be as vulgar as Trump.” I got a chuckle out of him with that, which made me feel good.

Still, our exchange inspired me to ask myself: What and where exactly is this “line” my neighbor says that “MAD” crossed? Answer: It is the point, from his perspective, at which our material stopped being funny and turned purely offensive. We all have such a line and where and how you draw it determines your sense of humor. Please note: It’s not just individuals who have “lines” — societies and cultures do as well. For example, if you think Kathy Griffin was treated unfairly in America for holding up a severed head of the president (for which she has recently retracted her apology), imagine the response if she lived in Saudi Arabia and had held up a severed head of the King.

“Star Trek’s” Captain Picard famously said, “The line must be drawn here!” He was talking about the Borg, but no matter. As a satirist, I say, “Draw the line and I will cross it without apology.” After all, without lines to cross, I’d be out of work.

That said, we satirists have lines too, and lines vary among satirists just as they do among members of our audience. This brings me to the latest cover of the satirical newspaper, “Charlie Hebdo,” which depicts swastika flags and hands raised above floodwaters in Nazi salutes with the copy, “God exists! He drowned all the neo-Nazis of Texas.”

This is precisely the kind of satire that we do not engage in at “MAD,” not because we’re cowed, but because for us it falls squarely into the category of “victim humor,” something we do our best to avoid. I suppose that it could be argued that every joke has a “victim,” but as a satirist I make a distinction between “victim” and “target.”

While virtually anyone or anything can be the target of satire, what is the point of making fun of innocents who die in a natural disaster or a terrorist attack, or for that matter the sick and infirm, or those living in abject poverty?

The editors of “Charlie Hebdo” would probably say that they were making a broad point about what they view as the prevalence of white nationalism in Texas. However, connecting white nationalism to random deaths caused by a hurricane is not only nonsensical, it makes light of the suffering of those who died. Newsflash: The editors of “Charlie Hebdo” don’t care. This is their brand, it’s what they do. We are just paying more attention now, because they are offending Texans instead of Muslims.

In the aftermath of the terrorist shootings at the “Charlie Hebdo” offices, “MAD” expressed solidarity and support. It didn’t matter that none of us are especially big fans of “Charlie Hebdo”’s brand of satire. The idea that satirists could be murdered in cold blood for publishing cartoons was chilling. We felt a responsibility to speak out.

“MAD” published a cartoon showing Alfred E. Neuman and the Black and White Spy from “Spy vs. Spy” raising a giant pen with a “Charlie Hebdo” flag attached. A few days later, our Editor-In-Chief, John Ficarra, offered an intentionally sobering commentary on “CBS Sunday Morning.”

On Monday, we were back at work looking for ripe targets for satire. “Charlie Hebdo” itself was not a ripe target for satire to us then, any more than the unfortunate victims of Hurricane Harvey are now.

At the end of the day, making satire is a moral exercise. Satirists reveal themselves as much by the form and tone of their satire, as they do by the targets they choose. Even more than satiric target practice, the editors at “Charlie Hebdo” need practice in choosing satiric targets.

John Lennon's 'Imagine' Threatens The Conservative Mindset Far Away And Near

Imagining universal love and world peace can be a pretty scary thing. Just ask a conservative.

Nearly a half century after it was written, John Lennon’s “Imagine” continues to spark upset and outrage among right wingers who don’t understand its message or are afraid of even attempting what the song pleads with us to do.

The latest example of this comes from Pakistan, where according to the Hindustan Times, a performance of “Imagine” by students at the Karachi Grammar School was cancelled after complaints that the song encouraged atheism.

The controversy was started by commentator Ansar Abbasi, well-known in Pakistan for his nationalist and orthodox religious views. He tweeted, “A private school in Karachi is holding a concert and will sing John Lennon’s lyrics — no heaven, no hell, no religion too.”

Soon, Orya Maqbool Jan, a television talk show host and former civil bureaucrat in the Paksitan Administrative Service, chimed in. The students’ parents were “slaves to Western thought,” he said. Also: “The song questions our belief in God and encourages an atheist mindset.”

Atheist mindset? That would have certainly come as news to Lennon, who in one of his final interviews said, “People got the idea that I was anti-Christ or anti-religion. I’m not at all. I’m a most religious fellow. I’m religious in the sense of admitting there is more to it (life) than meets the eye. I’m certainly not an atheist.”

Previously, Lennon had stated, ”I believe in God but not as one thing, not as an old man in the sky. I believe that what people call God is something in all of us.” And so, in his most famous song, Lennon never suggests that we “Imagine there’s no God,” though he did tell an interviewer, “Of course, you’re welcome to do that, too.”

Specifically regarding “Imagine,” Lennon said, “If you can imagine a world at peace, with no denominations of religion — not without religion but without this ‘my-God-is-bigger-than-your-God thing’ — then it can be true.” Lennon also noted that “God is a concept by which we measure our pain. ” He was on to something with that, too.

Nevertheless, conservatives in Pakistan and elsewhere aren’t buying it. Ever since he opined that the Beatles were more popular than Jesus, Lennon’s spiritual and religious insights have been mostly rejected by conservatives, many of whom still bristle at “Imagine” and reflexively dismiss the song. Their problem, which they simply can’t acknowledge, is their own inability or flat-out refusal to take on the task with which Lennon has challenged them — and all of us.

To deliberately and consciously imagine a world with no heaven, hell or country requires us to surrender — at least for a few moments — our religious beliefs and national identity. That can be a scary thing to do in a liberal democracy. In a repressive theocracy, it is without question among the most subversive and forbidden things one can do because of its potential to nourish independent thought and threaten allegiance to the status quo.

“Imagine” then is precisely the kind of dangerous blasphemy that can lead one to the utterly perverse belief that “Your brother is everyone you meet,” as Lennon foolishly declared in “Instant Karma,” or as he blurted in “Mind Games,” “love is a flower, you got to let it grow,” a sentiment which if embraced by the masses would forever destroy the lucrative fertilizer industry.

Please note: It is not just just social conservatives in Pakistan who have problems with “Imagine.” The song has encountered plenty of right wing blowback in America. An article in The American Conservative, published around the 30th anniversary of Lennon’s death in 2010, was called “Stop Imagining.” While the author took no issue whatsoever with the song, he chastised Lennon fans for clinging to an image of their hero as the embodiment of liberalism, even after he had moderated some of this views and distanced himself from left-wing political radicalism. Yes, it is indeed true that Lennon did both of those things. That’s called maturity. But neither Lennon nor Yoko Ono, who was given a co-songwriting credit earlier this year, ever distanced themselves from the message of or the philosophy behind “Imagine.” Consequently, American conservatives, missing the point entirely, have never stopped ripping the lyrics.

A 2015 article in The National Review laments that “to believers of older religion its (”Imagine’s”) open recommendation of an atheist faith cannot but sound lamentable and threatening.” The writer concludes that “few songs are more divisive” and in a follow up piece notes that the song’s “dream of no countries ... would turn out to be a nightmare.” Yes, just as Jesus’s advice that we turn the other cheek, if we all took it literally, would turn out to be a nightmare by allowing evil to forever triumph over good.

The most grave and immediate threat to humanity is not climate change: it’s tribalism. “Imagine” offers an antidote. It is not, as critics maintain, the expression of naive or far-fetched optimism. “Imagine” actually suggests a level-headed and pragmatic course of action. First and foremost, it is a directive, a call to peaceful arms. Lennon gently implores us to take responsibility for our future by projecting it positively.

Our work is to make a sincere and consistent effort to see beyond the forms and indentifications that keep us divided and in perpetual conflict. To imagine peace is merely the first step. The next step is to cultivate peace as a practice, thereby narrowing the gap between the world we imagine and the world we actually live in. The religiously devout and atheists alike can engage in this activity. No belief in God or country, not that there’s anything wrong with that, is required. Just let belief and patriotism go for a short time and pay attention to what happens. Repeat.

One cannot help but wonder: If students in Pakistan can be forbidden from singing “Imagine,” could the same thing happen in America? It has already happened in Britain, so of course it could. Which brings to mind another Lennon quote: “Our society is run by insane people for insane objectives. I think we’re being run by maniacs for maniacal ends and I think I’m liable to be put away as insane for expressing that. That’s what’s insane about it.”

A White Humorist Reflects On The Impact And Importance Of Dick Gregory

I awoke to the news on Sunday morning that Dick Gregory, an American comedy maverick and one of my comedy heroes, had died at 84.

There are probably not many white humorists working today who would cite Dick Gregory as a major influence, but I am one of them. I was only vaguely familiar with his material when I attended a lecture he gave around 1975 at Adelphi University, where I was an undergraduate. Adelphi is located in Garden City, NY, which at the time was one of the wealthiest and whitest place you can imagine. The university did have a sizeable on-campus black population, though it was primarily a commuter school and overwhelmingly white.

So, Dick Gregory had come to talk to a white audience about their country, which is how he saw America. He spoke of racism, war, social protest and the increasing power of corporations, mixing in sharp satiric commentary that cut deep and revealed disturbing truths. He had already been doing that for a long time.

More than a decade earlier, Gregory had broken the comedy color barrier on The Jack Parr Tonight Show by becoming the first black comic to sit on the couch and talk with Jack Parr. Merely taking a seat on a couch may not sound so important, but remember, it wasn’t until Rosa Parks sat on a bus in 1955 that the right of blacks to sit among whites had even been established.

Many years later, reflecting on his appearance with Parr, Gregory said, “Never before had white America let a black person stand flat-footed and talk to white folks. You could dance and you could stop in between the dance and tell how tired your feet is. Or Sammy (Davis) could stop in between and tell a joke. But you could not walk out and talk to white America.” Notably, when Gregory was first invited to appear on the show by Parr’s producer, he declined. It wasn’t until Parr himself called and assured Gregory that he could sit down that he accepted the invitation.

The first comedian I ever loved was Bill Cosby. When as a 12 year-old, I heard the opening monologue, “Tonsils,” from his then new album, Wonderfulness, it made me want to be a stand-up. Like Cosby, I had suffered the horror and indignation of having my tonsils removed and being lied to by grown-ups before the operation. Somehow, this black man from Philadelphia was telling the story of a white kid from Brooklyn and in doing so, he showed me how humor could reframe and perhaps even heal trauma. Cosby was my first comedy mentor.

But it was from Dick Gregory, along with George Carlin, Richard Pryor and the Smothers Brothers, that I learned the importance of calling out hypocrisy and injustice, and standing in one’s truth as a humorist. They were all fearless, and none more so than Gregory, who confronted racism head-on without apology and with great wit and insight.

He called his autobiography, written during the civil rights movement, "nigger." His reason: "Remember, whenever you hear the word they are advertising my book."

His take on baseball: "It's a great sport for my people. It's the only time a Negro can shake a stick at a white man and not cause a riot."

On income tax: "I wouldn't mind paying it, if I knew it was going to a friendly country."

On the difference between the North and South: “For a black man, there's no difference. In the South, they don't mind how close I get, as long as I don't get too big. In the North, they don't mind how big I get, as long as I don't get too close.”

In 1968, when segregationist George Wallace ran for president, Gregory decided to run against him and received close to 50,000 write-in votes. Wallace, a racist, received nearly 10 million votes and carried five southern states.

Gregory continued to speak-out and in 1989 told CBS’s Ed Bradley, "I chose to be an agitator. The next time you put your underwear in the washing machine, take the agitator out, and all you're going to end up with are some dirty, wet drawers."

The most essential comedians, of course, are the agitator-comedians, those who speak truth to power and challenge their audiences along the way.

By that standard, none were ever better than Dick Gregory.

It’s The Jews Fault – Still And Again

They marched through the streets of Charlottesville with burning torches and shouting, “Jews will not replace us,” and, “Blood and soil.” I had never heard the latter, so I did some research.

History, which is even more suspect now to many than climate science, tells us that “blood and soil” was an important philosophy for Nazi Germany. Hitler wanted Germans to identify with their “glorious past,” to embrace an ideology focusing on ethnicity based on bloodline, rural living, and farming in particular.

There was actually a debate in the Nazi Party about this. Some wanted to bolster support from urban centers, but the “blood and soil” faction wanted to focus on the rural population with the goal of convincing them that they were the true backbone of the fatherland. The decline of their communities was blamed on the city folk and, more specifically, the Jews. Jews then were responsible for the decline of German culture and had to be eradicated.

The question must be asked: What do the Jews have to do with a statue of Robert E. Lee in Charlottesville, or the renaming of Lee Park to Emancipation Park? Also: What did the Jews have to do with the Civil War – or no, pardon me, The War of Yankee Aggression? Who exactly are these Jews anyway?

Ironically, our billionaire businessman president from “Jewtown” is not one of them. That is because Trump channels the hatred, grievances and rage of countless anti-Semites. He is a master at this because he understands that the Jews are the problem and, more importantly, that the Jews are not solely Jews. Blacks, Muslims, gays, immigrants and women are Jews. The handicapped are Jews. The fake news media is run by Jews. Hollywood is run by Jews. Liberals are Jews. Comedians are Jews. The fucking Jews! They’re ruining everything. They’re killing us and only Trump can fix it. And yet, somehow Trump loves the Jews. He’s a tremendous supporter of Israel. Just ask Netanyahu.

During the campaign, after refusing to denounce the endorsement of David Duke, Trump emphatically insisted to CNN’s Jake Tapper, “I know nothing about David Duke.” His denial brings to mind that bumbling Nazi, Sergeant Schultz, from the old Hogan’s Heroes sitcom. Schultz’s memorable catchphrase was, “I know NOTH-ING!” But Schultz always knew something, if not everything. He mostly didn’t care what Hogan and the other prisoners in his guard did, so long as his terrifyingly evil boss, Colonel Klink, didn’t find out. Schultz, like Trump, had a lot to hide, could be easily played and was thin-skinned. Also like Trump, his primary objective was to keep his job, even while failing at it miserably. Schultz had the same penchant for lying and denying reality as Trump, though lacking Trump’s power and ugliness, he wasn’t anywhere near as good a Nazi. The biggest difference between them is that Schultz was funny.

But to get back to David Duke: Two days before Trump said, “I just don’t know anything about him,” or white supremacists, he actually disavowed Duke while talking with MSNBC’s John Heilmann. Over a decade earlier, on the Today Show, Trump referred to Duke as “a big racist.” But suddenly, when talking to Jake Tapper, “He knows NOTH-ING!” He doesn’t know about Duke’s felony arrest for inciting a riot, his denial of the holocaust, or his moonlighting as the Imperial Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan. Ignorance isn’t bliss: it’s a dog whistle for Jew-haters.

In Charlottesville, Duke was asked, “What does today represent to you?” His response: “This represents a turning point for the people of this country. We are determined to take this country back. We are going to fulfill the promises of Donald Trump.”

That phrase, “take this country back” remains a right-wing battle cry at a time when Republicans control every branch of the federal government and governorships in 34 states. What it actually means is “take this country back to the era of white male heterosexual Christian supremacy.”

This is troubling stuff and what’s most troubling of all is that Trump still has an approval rating of nearly 80% among Republicans. Perhaps he actually could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot someone and not lose voters — except, of course, the Jews.

German Jews leaving Germany in the 1930s. (German Federal Archives. Photo courtesy Ethan Bensinger.) 

Baseball Is Broken: Only I Know How To Fix It

“It took forever and wasn’t always fun to watch…” begins the recap of Saturday’s Yankee-Red Sox game by Mike Axisa of the Yankee fan website, RiverAveBlues. The game he is referring to was Saturday’s 16-inning, nearly six-hour uber-marathon, which along the way featured a scintillating five minute umpire review.

Baseball is a pastoral sport in a digital age. There’s actually great appeal in that. But even Springsteen stops the show after three hours. Nobody wants to watch anything for six hours. Not even porn.

As a Yankee fan, I adore catcher Gary Sanchez, but in the course of a game he visits the mound more than the dugout. Meanwhile, the batter scratches his thigh and plans his stepping-out-of-the-box strategy. Want to improve “pace of game”? Simply ban pitcher-catcher conferences except at the top of an inning or a pitching change. There’s not a fan in the country who would complain. If pitchers and catchers insist that is not workable, then provide them with ear pieces so they could talk to each other during the game. Broadcast their conversation live. Hey, it’s the 21st century. Privacy is dead, even in baseball.

Oh, and about those full infield conferences. We all know there’s no crying in baseball. Well, there are no huddles either.

But nooooo, Commissioner Rob Manfred’s genius move to shorten the game was to eliminate pitches thrown for intentional walks. Never mind that many games don’t have intentional walks. Look on the positive side: Going forward, any game with ten intentional walks will now be two minutes shorter. Sweet relief!

As any baseball fan knows, it’s not just the length of the games destroying the sport, it’s the start and end times. The seventh game of last year’s World Series started on a Wednesday night, a few minutes after 8, and ended at 12:30. Even without the extra inning of play and 17-minute rain delay, the game would have ended around midnight. (In case you’re wondering, the average length of a 2017 postseason game was nearly three and a half hours.) Conversely, this year’s Super Bowl was played on a Sunday, started at 6:37 and, even with the extended halftime and overtime, was over by 10:30. Night baseball games should start no later than 7.

And enough with these mind-numbing extra inning borefests. During the regular season, baseball is 9-innings period. After that, decide the game with a home-run derby. Already, I hear the traditionalists howling. Let them howl. Fans love the home-run derby. In fact, the recent all-star home-run derby was more highly rated on television than the all-star game itself. Give the people what they want, which is shorter games with more drama.

While I’m on the subject:

No more playing Kate Smith’s revolting rendition of “God Bless America” during the 7th inning stretch at Yankee Stadium, not unless they are going to follow it with Woody Guthrie’s “This Land Is Your Land.” But no, that would add more time to the game. Ban Kate Smith. She was probably on steroids anyway.

And speaking of cutting time between innings, relief pitchers should be prohibited from throwing warm-up pitches on the field. That’s what the bullpen is for. Also, there is no reason for a manager to stroll out to the mound to make a pitching change. Make the change from the dugout, get the new guy in there.

And commercials: cut one thirty-second spot between innings and, viola, you have just cut at least eight minutes per game.

Baseball is the only team sport without a clock, something I used to love. But now I want a pitch clock. Throw the freakin’ ball! To the batter. Not the first baseman! How many pick-off attempts does a man have to watch before you can call him a fan?

As for umpire reviews: The guys in the booth have 90 seconds. If they can’t figure it out by then, the ruling on the field was close enough.

I can’t take much more of this. If none of the above works, then drastic times call for drastic measures. Two strikes and you’re out? Three fouls after two strikes and you’re out? Seven inning games? None of this could be ruled out because the six-hour, extra-inning death march can no longer be tolerated. As Captain Picard once said, “The line must be drawn here.”

My next move would be to designate fans as fielders. Then, any ball, fair or foul, caught by a fan would be an out. This would not only have the advantage of shortening games, but would encourage exciting competition between fans. For example, Yankee fans at Fenway Park would want to make sure that a homer hit by Aaron Judge was not caught by a Red Sox fan and ruled an out. What a great idea!

In Trump's Sick Fantasies Mika Brzezinski and Megyn Kelly Bleed

It started, you will recall, with Megyn Kelly. “You’ve called women you don’t like ‘fat pigs,’ ‘dogs,’ ‘slobs,’ and ‘disgusting animals...’ Does that sound to you like the temperament of a man we should elect President?” she famously asked Donald Trump in the first Republican Presidential debate of August 2015.

Trump, of course, had no answer. “I think the big problem this country has is being politically correct,” he smugly shot back. The audience cheered.

The next day, Trump told CNN’s Don Lemon what he didn’t have the balls to tell Kelly to her face: “I just don’t respect her as a journalist. I have no respect for her...I think she’s highly overrated...She gets out and she starts asking me all sorts of ridiculous questions. And, you know, you could see there was blood coming out of her eyes, blood coming out of her wherever.” Trump later explained in a tweet that by “her wherever” he meant “her nose.” Whatever. Be it from her nose or her pussy, Trump saw blood, Megyn Kelly’s blood.

This was almost a decade after Trump, three months shy of his 60th birthday with his 24-year old daughter wearing a mini-skirt at his side, proudly told the women of The View,“ If Ivanka weren’t my daughter, perhaps I’d be dating her.” Everyone laughed. “Who are you, Woody Allen?” Joy Behar quipped. “That’s very good,” Trump replied. Never mind that Soon-Yi Previn, married to Woody Allen now for nearly two decades, is not his daughter. They had sex. That was the salient thing to Trump. Of course, it was “very good.”

About six months earlier, unbeknownst to him at the time, Trump’s repugnant pussy-grabbing remarks were being recorded in the Access Hollywood bus. When the shocking audio was released a month before the 2016 presidential election, it seemed that Trump’s fate as a loser was sealed. But in a diseased patriarchy, expressing hateful views toward women does not disqualify a candidate. Large numbers of women actually defended Trump and still do (see Sarah Huckabee Sanders), which is nothing short of heartbreaking, as when an abused wife passionately defends the man who promised her happiness, yet does nothing but humiliate and objectify her, and shows no signs of stopping.

Now Trump has a repulsive vision of MSNBC’s Mika Brzezinski "bleeding badly from a facelift,” he said in a tweet, inspired by her criticizing his handling of healthcare and taxes and foreign policy. Imagine the response of Republicans, those stalwart monitors of Christian and family values, if Barack Obama had said such a vile thing about Laura Ingraham or Monica Crowley or Ann Coulter. Imagine the stream of toxic vitriol that would spew from Alex Jones and Rush Limbaugh and Mark Levin.

When Trump verbally assaults women who threaten him, he imagines them bleeding and badly injured, or in a severely weakened state. In these grotesque inner visions, he sees strong, intelligent and beautiful women as weak, stupid and and horrifically ugly. Such is the defensive and diseased automatic response from a President who has not matured psychologically beyond a stunted pubescent stage. To regenerate his warped sense of masculinity, he must put on his clown tie and beat his chest while denigrating bitches.

It follows naturally then that Trump does not care about protecting mother earth or disadvantaged children, or the arts for that matter. All of that is the province of women, who must be degraded and controlled. Consequently, there “has to be some form of punishment” for women who have an abortion. In fact, the question of abortion itself shall be left to Trump through his Supreme Court judges, who he guarantees will overturn Roe v. Wade, a promise he is already chillingly on the way to fulfilling with the appointment of Neil Gorsuch.

To individuate, to attain even an iota of wisdom, a man must nourish the soul. That essential task requires a man to consciously forge a relationship with the inner Feminine. Trump has zero interest or aptitude for that. The impact this has on his Presidency is profoundly deleterious. Completely disassociated and alienated from feminine values and sensibilities, Trump is incapable of expressing genuine affection or regret for the hurt he inflicts on women or the nation. He cannot “stand beside her and guide her” because for her he has nothing but contempt.

Most concerning of all is that Trump has absolutely no awareness of this. While he pleasures himself with deranged fantasies of bloodied female journalists, his enablers and apologists offer excuses or perfunctory criticisms, for example Paul Ryan who somehow mustered up the courage to say, “I don’t see that comment (Trump’s comment on Brzezinski) as appropriate.” To really rile up a boy-man like Paul Ryan, Trump would have to say something truly offensive, for example, “I see health care as a basic human right.” 

How Trump Embraces George Orwell And Picks Up Where Richard Pryor Left Off

My barber is angry at the media.

“Why did ‘they’ have to show a photo of Obama’s inauguration crowd next to Trump’s?” he asked.

“Because Trump’s press secretary said it was the largest crowd ever to witness an inauguration and it wasn’t,” I answered.

“Who cares? He just took office, why don’t they give him a chance?”

“It’s tough to give him a chance when Kellyanne Conway calls his lies ‘alternative facts.’”

“Who cares? It’s the media blowing the whole thing up. Hey, did you hear what Madonna said?”

Yes, I had heard what Madonna said. Her interest in BDSM is well-known. Why hadn’t anyone thought to gag her before she addressed the crowd? By saying that she “thought a lot about blowing up the White House,” Madonna provided Trump supporters with a conversation changer they’ll be able to use to their advantage for the next four years. At best her remarks were embarrassing; at worst they could have incited violence. It’s important that we call her out. Still, the most important story of the weekend is that the White House has adopted Doublespeak, the language of the Ministry of Truth in George Orwell’s 1984, as its official language:

War is peace.

Freedom is slavery.

Ignorance is strength.

Falsehoods are alternative facts.

This is scary stuff because it’s bullshit on a level that we have never encountered before. We are not dealing here with a partial truth or an outright lie, which politicians engage in all of the time. No, this is much worse. It is a sinister kind of obfuscation, the purpose of which is to make everything debatable, even irrefutable truths. I am reminded of the lyrics of an old Graham Nash song, “Man In The Mirror,” in which he sings:

Two and two makes four

They never make five

And as long as we know it

We all can survive…

Well, now two and two just might make five, or 127. I don’t know but there are many people saying it does. In this authoritarian bizarro world a fact isn’t a fact unless Trump says it is and seeing things with your own eyes is not proof of anything.

A classic Richard Pryor standup bit comes to mind. He offers the following advice on what a man should say to his wife when he’s been caught in bed with another woman:

“When you are married, say you don’t fuck around, if you’ve got any brains. My wife (asks), ‘Did you fuck her?’ No, I was not fucking her. I don’t care what you think you saw. I was not fucking her. Now are you going to believe me or your lying eyes?”

It’s great comedy: deny, deny, deny, even when you’ve been caught red-handed in the act of cheating on your wife. Admit nothing. Counter attack (it’s your eyes). Lie until the lie becomes the truth, or at the very least causes a smidgen a doubt. And remember, a smidgen of doubt is all you need, because doubt inspires debate and debate is your friend. Debate means that there are at least two sides to the story worth considering.

Richard Pryor’s punchline is where the discussion with Trump begins. Who are you going to believe, the photos that purportedly show Obama’s crowd was larger than his or your lying eyes? To their credit, New York Times and CNN told it like it was with their respective headlines, “White House Pushes ‘Alternative Facts.’ Here Are the Real Ones” and “Conway Defends False Claim About Inauguration Crowd Size.” But is it too little to late?

While Trump rages against the “lying” media we ourselves are not even sure what the media is anymore. Social media is media too, right? If my Facebook feed is any barometer Trump would have already been impeached and banished to Moscow.

“The media” is simply our digital diet, what each one of us chooses to consume electronically. Who has more influence, NPR or Alex Jones? I can’t say actually and that is what is so troubling about this point at which we have arrived.

My barber’s default position – who cares? – is reflective of his disgust and weariness. He has been worn down by the toxicity of the news cycles. Maybe, just maybe, Trump can fix it. That thought, of course, is fodder for yet more debate and therein lies the paradox.

Debate is essential to a healthy society, however debating whether or not a giraffe can balance a check book somewhat misses the mark. The fact is that Trump has already been revealed to anyone willing to open their eyes:

Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain, yet ignore hm at your own peril.

Choose your debates carefully. 

Megyn Kelly Is Guilty Of Journalism

Like comic book fanboys who write bad reviews of a superhero movie based on its trailer, Megyn Kelly’s interview with raging conspiracist Alex Jones was widely panned by many liberals before it was even seen. And not just liberals. A dozen family members of Sandy Hook victims felt so aggreived, they had a law firm send a letter threatening to sue NBC News for its decision “to amplify the voice of a man who has made a living debasing...and smearing our client’s names.” One can only hope that the firm, Koskoff, Koskoff & Bieder, didn’t have the balls to actually charge a fee for doing this.

We have been told that by interviewing Alex Jones, Megyn Kelly is amplifying his baseless rantings, that she is giving him a platform and therefore causing unimaginable pain to the parents who lost children in the horrific Sandy Hook massacre. We have been told that Alex Jones should never be interviewed on a major news network because doing so would only dignify him, unless perhaps he were to be interviewed by the ghost of Mike Wallace.

Please note: Megyn Kelly’s biggest detractor now is Alex Jones himself. He did everything within his power to discredit her before the interview aired. His posting of their pre-interview, exposing Kelly’s promises to him, was meant to expose her as a fraud, but all it revealed was her strategy for landing a big stinky fish. Kelly was undeniably disengenious in her approach to Jones, but if he knew that, then why did he agree to the interview?

The simple truth is that Alex Jones chomped on Megyn Kelly’s bait and has been desperately trying to wiggle off the hook ever since. Unable to do so, on Sunday afternoon he released a stupefyingly tone-deaf video in which he finally admitted that the Sandy Hook murders took place and invited the parents of the slain children “to open a dialogue... instead of letting the MSM (mainstream media) try to drive this nation apart.”

Yes, of course, it’s the media’s fault for reporting on what happened at Sandy Hook and what Alex Jones actually said about it. No wonder Donald Trump told him, “Your reputation’s amazing – I will not let you down.” Alex Jones is Donald Trump’s kind of journalist: he doesn’t care about facts and spews garbage. Megyn Kelly, on the other hand, he’s had issues with, most notably when he said, “she had blood coming out of her wherever,” because she dared, while an employee of Fox News no less, to confront him with his own misogynistic hate speech.

This is the same Megyn Kelly, who while interviewing Dick Cheney told him, “Time and time again, history has proven that you got it wrong in Iraq.” This is the same Megyn Kelly who refused to give an inch to Ben Carson when he insisted that the Gold Star family Donald Trump insulted owed Trump an apology. This is the same Meygn Kelly, who after Newt Gingrich told her that she was “fascinated with sex,” told him, “I’m not fascinated by sex, but I am fascinated by the protection of women...” and then, “Take your anger issues and spend some time working on them.”

Apparently, none of this matters to The Daily Show’s Michelle Wolf, who in a recent hit-job segment smugly called Kelly “basically a pretty race-baiting puppet (of Roger Ailes).” Wolf then proceeded to show a montage of seven clips, none of which offered a shred of evidence of her claim, except arguably the final one, Kelly’s infamous blunder of referring to Jesus as white. Wolf didn’t bother to mention that on her very next show, Kelly said, “I did say Jesus was white. As I’ve learned in the past few days, that is far from settled.”

Note to Michelle Wolf: I’m guessing that you have accepted Bill Maher’s explanation for his use of the term “house nigger.” Then why not Megyn Kelly’s explanation for saying that Jesus was white? Another thing: It did not escape me that your use of the word “pretty” in describing Kelly was pejorative and dismissive, as if to suggest that she’s a no-talent. There is something really strange about that coming from a woman as pretty and talented as yourself. I’m guessing that you would not like it if someone referred to you as “a pretty race-baiting puppet (of Trevor Noah).” Think about it.

I will admit that as a satirist and a liberal, I don’t enjoy criticizing The Daily Show because it is a show I love. But let’s get a grip here. Megyn Kelly is not the Antichrist, nor is she Rachel Maddow. But Alex Jones was never going to sit down for a chat with Rachel Maddow or anyone at MSNBC. But he would talk to Megyn Kelly and the fact that he did is a victory for her and, more importantly, for journalism.