Thursday, July 30, 2015


What with all the anger regarding gay marriage, you'd think that a straight couple happily married for 23 years would be cause for celebration in some circles. Yet no man in my memory has ever caused so much consternation for being a faithful husband than Woody Allen.

Have you ever seen a happier bunch?
You know the story. Man dates woman with more adopted children than toes on her feet. Man falls in love with her 20 year-old daughter. Man takes naked pictures of daughter. Hilarity ensues.

In defending his actions, Woody made the now-legendary statement, "The heart wants what it wants." So does my stomach, but that doesn't mean I eat an entire Thanksgiving turkey with all the trimmings.

Still, Woody wasn't married to Mia Farrow, nor were they were even living together. And in 1992, Mia's adopted daughter, Soon-Yi Previn, told Time magazine that she never considered Woody to be her father, stepfather or father-figure:

This is actually a mature take on the matter. She doesn't sound like a kid who was brainwashed by a wisecracking Svengali. In fact, this should have been the end of it.

Woody, however, apparently didn't get the memo, as a recent interview with NPR proved. As usual, the subject of the 35-year difference between Woody and the little lady was brought up. It's the age-old question: What's the secret to a happy marriage? Let Woody tell it:

But does she accept insurance?
This sounds similar to the relationship I have with my daughter. You know, old movies, absurd humor, a cynical take on life. The difference is, I'm 40 years older and, oh yeah, I'm her father.

Now, I'm long past the "eww" stage of their marriage. But it wouldn't be such a terrible thing, next time Woody's interviewed, to bring up those two diametrically opposite quotes and ask, "Sooo... which is it?"

I've seen Woody and Soon-Yi around the city exactly twice.  Had I not known who they were, I would have guessed that she was the caregiver for a frail elderly man. Whether this is better than husband and wife or father-figure and starry-eyed woman, I leave to you.


Tuesday, July 28, 2015


Republican presidential candidate Mike Huckabee is not backing away from his strident criticism of President Barack Obama and the Iranian nuclear deal. Over the weekend, Huckabee said that by trusting Iran to abide by the deal, President Obama "will take the Israelis and march them to the door of the oven.”

In related news, a poll taken in states south of the Mason-Dixon line showed an overwhelming rise in popularity for the president and the deal.

The anonymous hacker's complaint about New York was that he "couldn't find any Jell-O Pudding or drugstores that would fill my prescription for sleeping pills."

Movie fans were quick to agree that the worst agenda they've seen was Netflix signing a 4-picture deal with Adam Sandler.

In response, Sen. Rick Santorum said, "It's nice to finally see eye-to-eye with these people."

A condition known as mirror touch synesthesia has been diagnosed in neurologist Dr. Joel Salinas, allowing him to feel his patient's pain.

Oddly, this condition disappears when it comes to time to give them the bill.


Friday, July 24, 2015


Police in Lafayette, Louisiana say that John Russell Houser committed suicide after killing two people and injuring nine others at a movie theater last night.

In response, Governor Bobby Jindal told reporters, "We are deeply saddened by this senseless act of violence. In order to prevent this from happening again, I'm urging state legislators to allow movie theaters to sell guns at their concession stands. I believe that when innocent moviegoers have the option to purchase firearms along with their Milk Duds, Jujubes or Raisinettes, they'll feel safer knowing that they'll be able to fire back at the next shooter. The more people firing back, the better."

When asked if it might be smarter to tighten restrictions on gun purchases rather than making it easier for an unstable person to shoot up a theater, Gov. Jindal replied, "This is not the time to play politics with this tragedy. Let's all pray for the survivors and their families, then start preparing for the next massacre."


Thursday, July 23, 2015


Some people just don't get it -- you know? I mean, they haven't got the sense God gave geese. Even when they believe they're doing something good for others. 

Consider ex-cop Bobby Berger of Baltimore, Maryland. If "cop" and "Baltimore" ring any bells, it might be because of the death of Freddie Gray allegedly at the hands of six policemen, an event that led to rioting, burning, and, in general, the kind of mayhem that makes for swell television on a spring afternoon. Just ask Jeff Zucker, who saw CNN's ratings skyrocket during that week. All that was missing was, well, a missing airliner to make the show complete.

But back to Bobby Berger. Berger wanted to raise funds to help the six cops' families, and thought that the best way was to put on a little concert. He's a singer, you see. And not just any singer. Berger, like many of us, enjoys the classic pop standards of the first half of the 20th century. 

This wasn't going to be just another trip down nostalgia lane, though. Berger was going to do a tribute to the man once hailed as "The World's Greatest Entertainer" but whose reputation now hovers between forgotten and disdained: Al Jolson.

Specifically, Bobby Berger wanted to raise funds for six cops accused of murdering an innocent black man... by putting on a show in blackface. 

Even my spellcheck can't believe I wrote that. There's no such word in 2015!

If you're wondering what the three black cops charged in the Freddie Gray case think of Berger's generosity, perhaps they accepted it in the spirit in which it was intended. The Baltimore Sun reports: 

Bobby Berger out of uniform.
While I cannot know for sure that the latter part of his statement is true -- even if it scores high on the "unlikely" scale -- one glance at the video still of Berger on the left proves that he is right about there not being "one iota of racial overtones." I would venture to guess that there are about 50,000 iotas.

This isn't Berger's first run-in with the taste squad. He was fired from the police force in 1981 for his blackface routines, only to win back his job with the help of the ACLU. He also received $108,000 for, among other things, "humiliation." He should have been humiliated just by going onstage like that. 

Believe it or not, that wasn't the end of his police career: 

Who says show business doesn't pay?

Berger would probably consider Jolson without 
make-up to be reverse-racism.
Jolson, it's said, wore blackface during the early part of his career because he was nervous about going onstage as himself. I have no idea what Bobby Berger's excuse is, but I bet he has not one iota of being nervous. He isn't smart enough. (Jolson himself stopped wearing blackface in Broadway shows around 1925.)

Now there's nothing wrong with being an Al Jolson fan. We had his records around the house when I was growing up, and I continue to enjoy his in-your-face style. Entertainers as diverse as Bing Crosby, Jerry Lee Lewis, Gene Simmons (of KISS), Dee Snider (of Twisted Sister), and David Lee Roth freely admit to have been influenced by Al Jolson. 

But they didn't wear blackface! Especially to raise money for cops who allegedly killed a black guy in a city with black mayor. For a guy who's supposed to be a singer, Bobby Berger is awfully tone-deaf.


Tuesday, July 21, 2015


Trained professionals are lucky to correctly predict the weather two days in a row. But here come criminologists who claim you can spot a serial killer a mile away. All you have to look for, they say, are three common characteristics:

1. They're power junkies.
2. They're manipulative.
3. They're egotistical braggers.
4. They're superficial charmers.
5. They pass themselves off as just like you and me.

So the next time any of the current crop of presidential candidates come to your town -- run for your lives!


Tuesday, July 14, 2015


President Barack Obama announced this morning that an historic nuclear arms deal with Iran had been reached. Republican presidential candidates wasted little time in commenting on the agreement.

Lindsay Graham said, "I condemn this so-called deal completely out of hand even without reading it. That's how much I hate it." Jeb Bush tweeted, "I have no idea what's in it, but it stinks like my barn when the help takes the day off. #bad deal." Rick Perry told reporters, "I haven't read word one of this thing, but you know what? I don't have to because I don't like it already."

George Pataki's press release explained, "As a three-term Governor, I know a bad deal without even knowing what it is." Scott Walker told Matt Lauer, "Don't tell me about it. It's useless." Ted Cruz's official website featured an image of a torn piece of paper marked DEAL, underneath which read, "Don't waste your time reading it. I sure won't." Chris Christie said, "The only deal I'm interested in is the Thursday special at Bob's Big Boy."


Monday, July 13, 2015


You gotta hand it to Bill Cosby. America's favorite funnyman really lucked out when he married Camille Olivia Hanks in 1964. Camille, you see, is the living definition of an understanding wife. For over a half century, she's been good with her husband being on the road for long stretches, playing nightclubs, appearing on TV, and having unlimited, drug-fueled sex with other women:

When not handling her husband's fortune,
Camille doubles as a Star Trek alien.
This is the kind of "I don't believe it" response that tobacco executives give to Congress when asked if smoking causes cancer. It's not like saying, "It isn't true," which would be considered by most people to be perjury. Rather, it's another version of, "I'm not derailing this gravy train." 

Camille Cosby, you see, is her husband's business manager. And she's not about to let her share of his $400-million net worth go the way of the Confederate flag. 

Early on, Cosby
realized drugs would
be less obvious.
Cosby's deposition was given in 2005 for an incident that happened a year earlier. The former Jell-O Pudding shill fought to keep it under wraps because, according to his mouthpiece, its revelations would prove to be "embarrassing." 

Cos must have a far different threshold of pride than me, because if word got out that I was a sociopath who drugged and raped women, I'd feel closer to suicidal. We must remember, though, that Cosby's point of view was probably created when he was a regular guest at the Playboy Mansion in the '70s -- a time when Hugh Hefner admitted referring to Quaaludes as "thigh-openers." To quote Fat Albert, "Hey, hey, hey!"

As with her husband, Camille has defenders: 

There's no mention if the good reverend's heart breaks for the dozens -- hundreds? thousands? -- of women whom Cosby drugged and raped during two different centuries. Nor does he explain just exactly what "sacrifices" Mrs. Cosby made. Pride? Self-respect? Small change compared to the almost half-a-billion smackers they're sitting on, amirite? 

But it's not like she doesn't have feelings:

Or as Deep Throat advised Woodward and Bernstein, "Follow the money."

Wednesday, July 1, 2015


Some headlines need no accompanying story, commentary or jokes. Just a handful of words can say it all. So I present today's honest-to-gosh, 100% for-real internet headline of the day:

Kim Kardashian Angers Fans by Speaking at Educational Organization


Tuesday, June 30, 2015


Much has been made about Joyce Mitchell, the seamstress who helped two killers escape from a maximum security prison because she was in love with at least one of them. If only she had lived in Canada, she could have joined a dating site that would have scratched her 25-to-life itch. And yes, she could have met the murderer of her dreams -- someone like Luka Magnotta:

Warning to anyone who dates this guy: if you're in a hurry, it's best not to say "chop chop." 

Having gotten that out of the way, let's check out his profile on Canadian Inmates Connect, a site for convicts looking for companionship from people outside those cold, gray walls:

Just the photos and the first line of his bio is enough to put him in front of the line. But before you ladies go out and buy a new outfit, you should know that Luka is gay. (But I know I can change him! I hear you cry. I wouldn't try it. He appears to be pretty settled in the way he is.)

As for Luka himself: judging by his demands, he's got a few problems. Speaking strictly from an apparel point of view, that upturned-collar look went out with A Flock of Seagulls. Too, the little crucifix around his neck is a general turn-off to anyone who isn't a practicing Christian like him. By the way, Luka should expect plenty of angry texts from the P.C. police who will see his demand for someone "white and in shape" as racist and sizeist.

However, I don't blame him for wanting somebody "emotionally stable," since it's good when couples balance things out. However, right now Luka's already in a "long term committed relationship" -- like, with the Canadian government for the next 50 or so years. (His "expected release date" of 2037 must refer to the last movie he made before his arrest.)

"My home is spacious, with a well-maintained lawn."
Luka's little lean-to, Archambault Penitentiary, hasn't the storied history of, say, Alcatraz or Sing Sing, having been built only in 1969. But that shouldn't bother potential suitors, since it's still worthy of a mention on a web page with the compelling title, "Archambault Prison's Bloody, Brutal History."  Fun fact: More guards have been killed there than at any other Canadian prison!

It was the philosopher Drew Barrymore who was quoted by the cerebral journal Us magazine as saying, "I think it's nice when people find love, because I feel like everyone deserves it."  Luka Magnotta would deeply and truly agree with you, Drew. Maybe you've got friends in Hollywood who would like to meet someone who's also looking for love. Having starred in porno movies, Luka's also in the "business," so there'd be plenty of shop talk to share. 

Yes, Drew, I'm sure Luka shares your philosophy. No doubt Luka thought his late Chinese boyfriend "deserved it" as well.


Monday, June 29, 2015


Read enough stories emanating from Japan, and you can get lockjaw from saying, "Now I've heard everything." First, it was girls going ga-ga for a gorilla (click here for details). But if you think gay marriage is a big deal, then you haven't heard what went down in Tokyo over the weekend:

This is what they call a Japanese kiss.
You've got to hand it to the Japanese. They have no problem with love in any of its guises. And it didn't even take a Supreme Court decision for the happy couple to tie the knot -- or is it "flick the switch"?

But as you can see from the photos, this wasn't just an ordinary robot wedding. Either this is the electronic version of an inter-species marriage, or the groom is much older than his almost realistically-blushing bride. Because while Yukirin is going for the human look, Frios is something you'd see in a Three Stooges short at the end of their movie career. I mean, he looks like, well, a robot. 

Larry Flynt is offering a million dollars
for the wedding night video.
Yukirin's parents must be appalled by their daughter's choice in men. "We wired you to pass for human, and this is what you marry -- some guy with antennae for ears who wears gasoline cans for shoes?" And take a look at Frios' lower extremities, then ponder what the honeymoon is going to be like for the poor bride. But doesn't the idea of having robots for children seem worth the pain even for human mothers? It sure does for the fathers, I can tell you that.

The Bobby Jindals and Mike Huckabees of Japan are probably committing hari-kiri even as we speak, while the Barack Obamas and Hillary Clintons (who were against robot weddings before it became politically expedient) are now ready to officiate at future nuptials. Do you, Eiichi, take Riko to be your lawfully wedded cyborg, for shinier and rustier, in breakdowns and ruthlessly destroying mankind, for as long as you both shall be programmed?

Save the rice -- just throw sensors.


Saturday, June 27, 2015


Shabani ponders who the next lucky
girl will be to peel his banana.
New York women are forever saying, "All the good men are taken." They think it's bad here, they should jet over to Japan. It appears that women are down to ogling an entirely different species:

In this P.C. world we live in, I know it's difficult for you to say out loud what you're thinking. So let the senior zookeeper, Allan Schmidt, say it for you: "The Japanese are crazy." Thank you, zookeeper Schmidt, thank you. It would help if you had a Japanese name, but you work over there, so that works 50% in your favor.

In Japan, this is considered
a love story.
I thought it was bad when I once met a woman who said her ideal man was "a combination of Michael Jackson and Superman." At least those two could be loosely considered men. Shabani, on the other hand, spent his childhood swinging in trees and throwing feces at his competition -- which now includes Japanese males. When Japanese mothers plead with their daughters to settle down with a nice boy, they're not kidding.

Japan is known for many wacky things -- the Ramen Noodle Museum, horse meat-flavored ice cream, leg pillows for lonely men -- but amour gorille takes the rice cake. Now instead of talking about the birds and the bees, parents are going to have uncomfortable conversations with their kids about the simians and the homo sapiens.

Shabani knows that women always go for the bad boy.
It's bad enough when I see Upper East Side women walking their chihuahuas in baby carriages. They might be idiots, but they're likely not delusional. Women who flirt with gorillas, though, are in a whole different category. Like a category entitled, "People Who Need to be Locked Up (But Not in a Zoo)." 

There are no winners here. As far as the women are concerned, their menfolk can't possibly meet the standards set by Shabani. As for the men, well, these dames are in love with a gorilla. Even Allan Schmidt himself admits, "I would say most people would consider him fairly dashing." I expect sales of those leg pillows for lonely men to increase dramatically.


Thursday, June 25, 2015


Unlike other spy movies of the '60s, The Defector takes a serious look at the quiet drudgery and danger of international espionage. Physicist John Bower is blackmailed by the CIA to enter East Germany in order to pick up microfilm from a disgruntled Russian scientist. Peter Heinzmann, a physicist working for the Stasi, is assigned to tail Bower -- a man whose work he respects -- in order to get the microfilm first. When the Russian scientist is murdered -- and the microfilm proves worthless -- Heinzamann is ordered to get Bower to defect to East Germany. With the help of a young woman named Frieda, Bower manages to escape to the West -- but the Stasi has one more trick up its sleeve.

The Defector -- a French production shot in Germany -- lingers in the mind, but for mainly the wrong reasons. It's an interesting but slow picture, picking up steam only in the final 30 minutes or so, when Bower tries escaping enemy hands. The story is certainly interesting -- I have a feeling it's a more accurate snapshot of the spy game than the James Bond movies -- but that's not what gives The Defector its cachet.

How do you say "Yikes!" in German?
No, that would be Montgomery Clift's final performance as Bower. Looking less like Tom Cruise as he did in I Confess, the 45 year-old Clift now resembles the drunken, decimated Buster Keaton in the latter's final M-G-M talkies. You can't help but gasp at his first close-up. Once the handsomest actor in movies, he now appears more haunted than the house in The Amityville Horror, the victim of a near-fatal car crash a decade earlier, followed by a constant intake of booze and pills. Food? What's food?

Yet, as if capitalizing on his physical downward spiral, Clift is an ideal choice as the accidental spy. This is no Sean Connery, but an isolated, sickly man who takes the job only to keep his government research grants coming. At no time do you ever think he could fight his way out of a situation. In fact, having him shot at point-blank range would seem a blessing.

Hardy Kruger is caught between a cop
and a hard place.
As Heinzamann, Hardy Kruger gives the Stasi operative a humanity missing from other spy movies of the day. Like Bower, Heinzamann is blackmailed by his handler to complete the job. They're two of a kind, even if the German is in better physical condition. He actually likes Bower and would rather see him return safely home than to get stuck on the wrong side of the Berlin Wall -- even if they could make beautiful research together in East Germany.

Oddly, he looks better on acid.

Judging by the one-sheet atop this page, The Defector's American release downplayed Clift's involvement (it was his first movie in four years), while trying to sell it as something similar to the trippy Roger Corman movies coming into vogue, thanks to one scene where Bower is slipped some acid. As if the drug was necessary; from the moment Bower arrives in Leipzig, his paranoia increases under the constant state-run surveillance, where even a visit to a doctor might mean life or death for all involved.

The Defector is dated in many ways -- the microfilm is said to determine if the USSR will get to the moon before the USA, a problem charmingly naive compared to today's international crises -- but is refreshing for its almost utter lack of "excitement". Today's spy movies replace genuine drama with CGI, impossibly handsome undercover agents, and allegedly-clever one-liners. The Defector's biggest action sequence is a power boat blowing up in the last reel. 

This is an action star?
Yet Bower's climactic escape -- by bike, foot, and boat -- makes for more genuine excitement than any Mission Impossible movie, because you wonder just how the hell Montgomery Clift survived any physical exertion outside of breathing. Disguised as farmer, Clift looks more like a concentration camp survivor.

No, I don't think so.
Perhaps that's why a love scene depicted in one of The Defector's lobby cards is nowhere to be seen in the final cut. The idea of a naked Clift in bed with a cute 26 year-old woman is just too much to take.

Clift's death (from "occlusive coronary artery disease") four months before The Defector's American release probably doomed what little success it might have achieved. The actor's sickly aura hangs over the movie like a human car wreck, keeping your attention even when the pace slackens and you wonder just where the story's going. Like his fellow method actor Marlon Brando in the twilight of his career, Clift just had to show up to make a project interesting.

To read about two other Montgomery Clift movies, I Confess and Freud, click here and here.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015


It's nice to feel justified, even when it takes years. And this past week, it happened to me twice.

The first event involves an obscure cable network called MeTV. This isn't for narcissists; the call letters stand for Memorable Entertainment Television. Its entire schedule is made up of TV shows from the '50s to the early '80s. I never heard of it until quite recently.

Other than the uniforms, this is what
Bronx cops still look like.
Now, say "classic old shows" to some people, and the first thing they think of is M*A*S*H, All in the Family, or Mary Tyler Moore. Feh. To me, "great TV" was mostly in black & white, and rarely seen in syndication after 1969, if at all.

So I was thrilled that MeTV recently began running Car 54, Where are You?, the short-lived sitcom about Gunther Toody and Francis Muldoon, two idiot cops working in a forgotten Bronx precinct. 

Having grown up in Rhode Island, I never realized how authentic Car 54's atmosphere was. Location shots are real, while the interiors were shot at Biograph Studios, built on East 175th Street in 1913. The characters -- Italians, Irish Catholics, Jews -- reflect the neighborhood.

My daughter has always been open to old entertainment, and, true to form, became a fan of Car 54 after only one episode. She has no idea that its stars, Fred Gwynne and Joe E. Ross, came from Broadway and burlesque respectively. All she knows is that they (and the rest of the cast) don't look like anybody on TV today -- and that she can't get enough of Ross' desperate "Ooh! Ooh!"  

What impressed me about Car 54 in 1962 still impresses today: not only does it have black characters, they're accepted as equals. The last episode I caught had six black actors -- three men and three women, probably more than any prime time series today. 

And you know what else? The damn show is still funny. You can keep Mary Tyler Moore.

Justification comes in other ways as well. Like most kids, my daughter used to think I was a complete numbskull. So you can imagine her surprise that, even now, her female friends think I'm funny and cool. Even better, her male friends in high school used to find me intimidating. If you told any of this to the kids I went to school with, they'd think you were out of your mind.

But what puts the coolest icing on the cake for her is that young black men compliment me on my retro headgear. "Nice hat, man" -- I get it all the time, or at least some of the time. 

And I'm da bomb.
I was wearing my Panama chapeau on Father's Day when my wife took a photo of us. My daughter posted it to her Instagram account. A moment later, she reported that her friend's brother ("He's black, you know") wrote, "Ya Pops is JIGGY!"

"What did I tell you?" I responded self-righteously. "I'm jiggy! I've been saying it for years!" -- even before the word was invented. Or I knew what the hell it meant.

Comedy authority. Cool to girls. Intimidating to boys. A fashion plate to urban youth. It took decades, but I've become a recognized figure in all these fields. By the time I'm dead, I should be a Pulitzer Prize winner.


Friday, June 19, 2015


President Barack Obama and Republican Speaker of the House John Boehner held a joint press conference following the mass shooting at a church in Charleston, South Carolina that left nine African-American parishioners dead at the hands of a white separatist with mental issues.

"As you know," President Obama said, "I've had to speak in the wake of over a dozen similar tragedies since I took office. And you know why? Because it's a lot easier than actually doing something about keeping guns out of the hands of crazy people. That would mean convincing Democrats and Republicans alike to to stop bending over and getting penetrated with money from the NRA and paranoid yahoos who can't sleep at night unless they have 25 assault rifles scattered around their house. 

"And you know how I always say that having discussions about race is difficult?" President Obama asked. "Bullshit! We all do it every time something like this happens. Me, Morning Joe, Bill O'Reilly, Rachel Maddow, every senator, mayor and dog catcher -- we love having these discussions because it's easier than actually doing anything about the state of race relations. Better to write 'Charleston Strong' on Twitter instead."

"I have to agree with my good friend Barack Obama," Rep. Boehner interjected. "I work with many representatives from the South, and the only race discussion they want to have is about who can get home first at the end of the workday. And as for guns -- there's as much chance of Congress passing meaningful legislation as there is putting the Confederate flag on the South Carolina capitol grounds at half-mast after this mass murder. I mean, save your breath, people. The news is on 24/7, and before you know it, you'll get distracted by the next shiny toy. Let's just do the usual 'Our thoughts and prayers go out to the good people of blah blah blah.' It sounds like we're saying something meaningful."

"My good friend John Boehner put it well," said President Obama. "So, in conclusion, let me say that our thoughts and prayers go out to the good people of Charleston. And by 'thoughts,' I mean thinking about how long we can keep passing the buck."

"And by 'prayers,' Rep. Boehner added, "I mean praying we stay strong enough to continue ignoring the obvious, and keeping the money flowing in."


Tuesday, June 16, 2015


For decades, maybe centuries, women have had a leg up on men when it came to good health. But with the release of the latest CDC report, that might change:

It's a fat world, after all...
Well, OK, women are technically 55 years behind the times, because the same report tells us that the average American male weighs 195.5 pounds today. C'mon, ladies, you gotta get in line at the Golden Corral buffet!

If you've spent any time at the tourist attractions in Orlando, Florida, this report won't surprise you at all. In fact, 166.2 pounds sounds a little low. A lot low. During our last family vacation at Disney World eight or nine years ago, there was enough elephantine human flesh on display to feed every stranded soccer team in the world about six million times over. If you ever want to see people having oral sex with a giant smoked turkey leg, Disney's the place to be.

Remember how Michelle Obama took a lot of heat for saying that her husband's election was the first time she felt proud of America? I can tell you exactly when I was first embarrassed for it. I was talking to a French businessman who was getting transferred back to Paris after living in New York for several years. I asked him what he thought of America. He said he liked it very much, "but there are so many overweight people!" He knew from experience, since the same CDC report says the average American is 33 pounds heavier than the average Frenchman. Scare bleu cheese!

Cheer up, lady, at least you got a hit single
out of  your misery.
The terminally-sensitive Millenials would probably refer to the CDC report as "fat-shaming." This might not be such a bad thing, when you consider that the report also tells us only 12.2 Americans could fit in a room vs 20 from Bangladesh.

Yet the only shame any group of Americans would feel are runway models. And that shame would be for those Bangladeshis, whom they would advise to go on the salt-and-toothpick diet if they wanted any chance at getting hired for Fashion Week.

If you didn't know how important it is for some people to gorge themselves, this headline from the April 8, 2015 edition of the Las Vegas Review-Journal should help: 

Suicide at M Resort blamed on loss of free  buffet for life

Click on the headline to see a picture of the victim, then do a Google Image search. You won't be shocked to discover that there are people more deserving to win free meals for life. Like maybe one of those 20 Bangladeshis who are probably still starving in a room somewhere.