PROSTRATE FOR PROSTATE

Many years ago, I had a good friend who frequented an illegal brothel located in a West Side condo. He ran through so much money that he asked for, and received, $3,000 from his grandmother for "medical expenses," when it was actually for further visits. He justified it by saying his afternoon trysts were good for his health.
 
While I had a good laugh over it, it seems he was onto something after all. As the headline in the London Telegraph read this week, Sex with 21 Women Lowers Risk of Prostate Cancer, Academics Find 

Finally, some headway in the cure for cancer! As the article says:

Sleeping with more than 20 women protects men against prostate cancer, a study has suggested.

Men who had slept with more than 20 women lowered their risk of developing cancer by almost one third, and were 19 per cent less likely to develop the most aggressive form. 

Take with liquor three times a day.

And remember, ladies, this is science, as President Obama would say. So none of your complaining when hubby comes home stinking of cheap perfume -- he was just undergoing aggressive treatment for his prostate. Academics said so.

Not that it's going to do me any good. When I first glanced at the article, I thought it said having sex 20 times. I've been married 22 years, so I would have just about qualified. But 20 women? My prostate's probably the size of a casaba melon by now. So much for "a strong marriage" being the key to prolonging a man's life. It only seems that way. (Provide your own rimshot.)

Boy oh boy, I cannot wait for the commercials for this prostate treatment. Right now, they always feature a middle-aged couple driving through the country and pitching a tent in the woods. Now, you're going to see hubby kicking his wife out the passenger side, then filling the SUV with as many hot women who'll fit. Possible side effects include euphoria, ecstasy, and an urge to smoke a cigarette afterwards. Do not take while operating heavy machinery, driving a vehicle, or, come to think of it, doing anything other than watching porn.

The doctors will see you now.

Then there's the Moonlite Bunny Ranch, Nevada's legendary legal brothel. If the Ranch's owner is smart, he'll rename it the Desert Prostate Clinic. Customers would then be able to take medical deductions on their 1040. And at these prices, they'll have to. 

In the interest of economics, I researched just how much an average visit -- make that "treatment" -- the Bunny Ranch sets you back. One former patient was blunt: 

2 girls, 2 hours? Your looking at $2500-$4000! Even if you choose mediocre girls, each girl is going to need $400- $500 an hour or more, depending, so do the math.

When it comes to maintaining your health, nobody wants to settle for mediocrity. On the other hand, if your standards are low, you'll be able to afford more visits. You know how some people have to choose between eating and paying the doctor? There are plenty of men who will starve in order to pay these bills. You can't put a price on good health. 

Women, as usual, have it lucky because they don't have a prostate to maintain. All they're going to get after sex with 20 men is chlamydia. I can hear Debbie Wasserman Shultz now: "It's just another example of the Republicans' war on women!" Like women would knowingly have sex with Republicans anyway. 

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BREAKING NEWS: QUARANTINE EDITION

Under pressure from the Centers for Disease Control, New Jersey Governor Chris Christie has freed Kaci Hickox from a 21-day mandatory quarantine in the Newark Liberty Airport parking lot. Ms. Hickox, a nurse, had arrived after treating Ebola victims in West Africa.

The CDC admitted, however, that medical professionals returning from affected areas should be required to be self-quarantined in an area devoid of potential contact with the public. By that measure, the CDC said, the best place would be MSNBC during primetime. 

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NOT ONCE MORE

If you live in New York and watch CBS Sunday Morning News, you know the worst part of the program -- aside from host Charles Osgood's insistence on singing Christmas songs and reciting his kindergarten-level poetry -- are the commercials for the Broadway musical Once, the treacly story of a young street musician and his unrequited love for a woman.

My wife and I saw the movie version in 2006. A low-key affair, its melancholy vibe was kind of a welcome change from the force-fed happy endings I'm used to. The stars of Once, who also wrote the songs, broke up by the time they won the Oscar for Best Original Song, amping its bittersweet aura.

Once became the hipster's favorite movie of the year, treating it as a musical version of a lost story by Franz Kafka. Its Oscar-winning number was the tearful "Falling," whose lyrics cleverly rhyme "you" with "you," "me" with "me," and "home" with "choice." But what its young fans identified with was the song's heartfelt, heartsick, heartburn-inducing cri de coeur expressing a love that nobody else in history has ever felt or will feel again. You remember that bullshit from your youth, don't you?

"I take that as a personal insult."

Everybody sing along! Falling slowly, eyes that know me/And I can't go back... Oh, how I wish you did go back, way, way back, as far as your one-way ticket will take you. Because since the opening of the stage version of Once, I've spit out my coffee every week upon hearing that song via the bovine lowing of the twee leading man.

Once? If only!

As time passed, new commercials for the show aired, featuring "real" audience members (paid for their services), swooning over what they just experienced. A middle-aged man, responding to his wife's astonishment at how much he enjoyed Once, muttered, "Hey, I have feelings, too!" So do I -- and I feel like throwing up.

The cast checks for dog crap on their shoes.

Another, much younger Once fan commented on the onstage pub's gimmick of serving beer to the audience. "How can you not love a show where you can drink?" she asked rhetorically. Let me tell you, the only way I could love that show is if I drank enough Guinness to land me in a coma. 

But that won't be necessary much longer. The new commercial that aired last Sunday warned that Once is closing in January. 

"Thank God!" I cried aloud. It was the most welcome announcement since V-J Day. This is your final chance, whispered the announcer, to see the musical that transformed Broadway.

Really? Honest? Do you swear?

So all you non-New Yorkers, be on the lookout for Once's road company commercials next year, and don't say you weren't warned. Now if only that damn Wicked musical would shutter its doors so I don't have to deal with those commercials. So if you care to find me/Look to the western sky!... 

I think I'll be heading east, thank you. Like China.

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MOVIE OF THE DAY: "MR. ARKADIN" (aka 'CONFIDENTIAL REPORT") (1955)

Hey, remember that Orson Welles movie about the mysterious, manipulative, all-powerful yet ultimately self-destructive tycoon? The one told in flashback? With the deep-focus black & white cinematography, striking close-ups, and memorable character actors in supporting roles?

It can be only one movie: Mr. Arkadin. Right?

Written and directed by Welles during his lengthy European sojourn in the 1950s, Mr. Arkadin is the probably the most obscure movie the great man ever made; it certainly appears to be the most low-budget. Alternately sloppy, brilliant, inexplicable, and hypnotic, Mr. Arkadin tells the story of the titular character -- played by Welles -- who claims not to remember his life before one winter's evening in 1927, when he suddenly found $200,000 in Swiss francs stuffed in his wallet, from which he started his financial empire. 

Arkadin hires Guy van Stratten, a low-rent criminal with underworld connections, to find out who he (Arkadin) really is and how he got that all that money. As Guy travels around the world digging up information, he finds Arkadin's past becoming even more puzzling. Especially when Arkadin himself starts tailing Guy -- and as the people Arkadin knew back in the day start winding up dead.

For all Mr. Arkadin promises -- and delivers -- its weakest link is front and center. As Guy van Stratten, Robert Arden gives the worst performance since the introduction of sound. Just what Welles, usually impeccable when it came to casting, saw in him is a mystery greater than the movie itself. I mean, Arden doesn't even move convincingly. It comes close, in fact, to becoming a parody of bad acting.

To be fair, however, Welles' script does Arden no favors. Guy's "hard-boiled" dialogue is closer to weakly-poached  -- again, nearly a film noir parody. Too, Welles appeared to have re-written some of Aden's lines after he completed filming, so that his dubbed dialogue often doesn't match what he was originally saying. 

Then there's Welles' flamboyant performance. Not only does he speak with an accent difficult to identify -- which was perhaps the point -- his theatrical make-up is never quite believable. Thanks to his many close-ups, the phony nose, rouged-up cheeks, stiff beard, and hairnet under the wig are evident. Had he been onstage, it would be no problem. But three inches from a movie camera, he often appears to be what he really was: a 40 year-old playing a much older man.

And as long as we're talking about distractions, what do we make of Paola Mori as Arkadin's daughter Raina? Arkadin's obsession with her becomes that much more interesting when you learn that Mori was Welles' real-life wife. As for her acting skills, well, she's right up there with co-star Robert Arden.

Don't get me wrong.  Mr. Arkadin is never less than fascinating. For Welles understood the very look of cinema better than any director of his time. Not even the great Alfred Hitchcock was so visually consistent and fascinating. The scene with Arkadin and Guy's drunk girlfriend Mily in a rolling yacht; the grotesque close-ups; Arkadin's bizarre costume party. And, of course, there's the story itself, which pulls you in the same way Arkadin pulls in everyone around him.

Once the the boy genius of movies, Welles was, by the time of the Arkadin shoot, an outcast, thanks to his working style. Just give me your money, appeared to have been his typical pitch. In return, I'll go over-budget and over the scheduled shooting time. Then I'll disappear in the editing room for months on end -- and get distracted with another project -- until you get fed up and release it before I'm ready, which will probably be never, anyway. Look up the phrase "own worst enemy" and you'll see a picture of Orson Welles.

And so Mr. Arkadin's producer removed some scenes while re-arranging others, releasing it in Europe as Confidential Report, where it was immediately hailed as Orson Welles' best movie yet. A few years later, French cineastes named it one of the 12 greatest movies of all time. Now, you're likely to get a "Qu'est est ce Confidential Report?" from their grandchildren.


Under its original title, Mr. Arkadin saw its New York debut in 1962 before quickly disappearing. The American edit, told in flashback, is closer to what Welles had envisioned. But what was it really supposed to look like? Who knows? All I can tell you is that Mr. Arkadin, like The Lady from Shanghai, is an alleged "lesser" Welles production that despite its faults -- like the quite audible whirring of the camera on at least one occasion -- is worth repeated viewings.


No doubt Welles identified with the grand, larger-than-life puppet-master Arkadin. Most of his close-ups are shot from below, allowing him to loom over us like God. Outtakes reveal Welles giving precise line-readings to his actors, going so far as explaining how to hold their mouths after finishing their dialogue. You want to talk about a control freak? Welles dubbed in his own voice for at least 18 actors in the movie. Orson, lay off the caffeine for five minutes!


Welles' outlandish make-up itself might be a deliberate ruse. As written, Arkadin has done everything in his power to remain hidden from the world, even refusing to remove his mask at his own costume party or allowing himself to be photographed. After my second viewing, it hit me: Welles is supposed to be playing Arkadin in obvious disguise!... Or is he? Again I ask, who knows?

No surprise that his final movie, F for Fake, was a playful documentary about the art of fooling the public for fun and profit. Unlike Arkadin, however, Orson Welles had too much of the former and not nearly enough of the latter. 

PS: The name is pronounced Ar-KAY-din, not ARK-a-din. I made the same mistake, too

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BREAKING NEWS: EXECUTION EDITION

Responding to a Reuters report stating that the number of government-sponsored beheadings in Saudi Arabia has dramatically increased recently, real estate developer Donald Trump took to his Facebook page in anger:

Once again, our president has allowed another country to surpass America. While we have put 30 prisoners to death since the beginning of the year, Saudi Arabia has executed at least 57. And 26 of them were in August alone! That a president allows any country to take the lead in any field is a travesty. But to lose to an Arab country is a disgrace.

As has been proven over and over again, the private sector is much better than the government at getting the job done. Therefore, I'm offering to execute all 3,070 inmates currently on death row in America before the end of the year via the new Trump Hot Seat Electric Chair®.  I will provide a chair to each of the 32 states currently with the death penalty, along with a Trump associate who has been trained in its use. By executing roughly 42 people a day, we'll be able to "clear the decks" before January 2015.

As you know, I don't put my name on just any product. With its black marble legs and brass seat, the Trump Hot Seat Electric Chair® is the greatest form of criminal death you will ever see. Anyone interested in viewing one in person can visit the lobby of the Trump Tower on Madison Avenue in New York where we have one on display. I promise you that once you see the Trump Hot Seat Electric Chair® for yourself, you will agree that punishment doesn't get any better than this!

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BREAKING NEWS: EBOLA EDITION

As fears over an Ebola outbreak continue to grow, the White House is under increasing pressure to prevent flights containing passengers from affected African countries from entering the United States.

President Barack Obama, however, is resisting such a move. White House spokesman Josh Earnest explained to reporters, "How else are we going to know who's infected unless they come here? Africa's a big place, you know."

Meanwhile, Sen Ted Cruz (R-TX) has issued a statement regarding Nina Pham, the first nurse to be diagnosed with Ebola after treating an infected Liberian man at a Dallas hospital. "The fact that Nurse Pham was taken for treatment in Bethesda, Maryland shows yet another failure of Obamacare. She works at a hospital in Dallas already, and yet was flown over 1,300 miles for treatment. Who's picking up the tab for this unnecessary travel? The American taxpayers, that's who. When Congress returns to work next month, I'm going to demand an investigation to see if Nurse Pham took out a student loan without having any way to repay it if she were to die from this infection -- and once again, leaving the American taxpayers on the hook."

In a related matter, the Walt Disney Company is suing Sudan and the Republic of Congo -- the original sources of the disease in 1976 -- for copyright infringement, claiming that the top part of the Ebola virus is "an unauthorized facsimile of Mickey Mouse." Disney is also seeking damages for "defaming the reputation of our theme parks' beloved official greeter. Mickey Mouse is expected to bring joy and laughter, not black vomit and projectile diarrhea."

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BREAKING NEWS: CHEMICAL WEAPONS EDITION

The New York Times is reporting that American soldiers stationed in Iraq were unknowingly exposed to chemical weapons from 2004 to 2011. These weapons, which the Pentagon kept secret from the troops, were manufactured in part by the United States.

A spokesman for President Obama, noting that the weapons were from a previous administration, referred The Ol' Fish-Eye to a spokesman for former President George W. Bush, who in turn referred us to a spokesman for former Secretary of Defense Colin Powell. 

That spokesman, noting the manufacture of the agents began before the Bush administration, referred us to a spokesman for former President Bill Clinton, who, in turn, referred us to a spokesman for former Secretary of Defense William Cohen.

That spokesman, noting the manufacture of the agents began before the Clinton administration, referred us to a spokesman for former President George H.W. Bush, who, in turn, referred us to a spokesman for former Secretary of Defense Dick Cheney.

That spokesman, noting that the casualties happened in later administrations, referred us to spokesmen for former President George W. Bush and President Barack Obama, who referred us to the spokesman for the wounded soldiers.

The soldiers, however, have no spokesman.

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BREAKING NEWS: LOCKHEED & NORTHROP EDITION

Bloomberg News is reporting that the biggest U.S. defense companies, including Lockheed Martin and Northrop Grumman, are trading at record prices as shareholders reap rewards from escalating military conflicts around the world.

While this news added to the belief that war profiteers are capitalizing on death, White House assistant spokesman Brad Lanes had a different point of view. "This is a perfect time to invest in the stock market, specifically in these particular companies. While much of the business community has seen volatility, defense contractors are a safe place to put your money. As President Obama and Senator [John] McCain have reminded us, the war on ISIL is expected to take years before we can declare victory. Some military experts have even predicted a 30-year war. That's 30 years of solid profit margins."

Pointing to investment graphs showing positive movement for Lockheed and Northrop, Lanes continued, "Look at this. I'd like to see Apple or Google equal these two. And as far as employment is concerned, the defense industry is the go-to place for qualified college graduates. Because once ISIL is defeated, the Pentagon guarantees another terrorist organization will take its place."

Lanes chuckled, "Hey, whoever heard of the Khorasian group until two weeks ago? I mean, I thought it was some philanthropic organization. You know, 'The McLaughlin Group is made possible by a grant from the Khorasian group.' So as long as there's a Middle East, job-seekers have nothing to worry about."

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BREAKING NEWS: JAY LENO EDITION

The Hollywood Reporter has an exclusive story this week on Jay Leno's possible return to television on CNBC. The series would center on his well-known love of cars. According to The Hollywood Reporter, "Leno has been loyal to NBC (his car-themed web series Jay's Garage is still hosted on NBC.com), and he has a relationship with CNBC president Mark Hoffman."

Network spokesman Brad Lanes told The Ol' Fish-Eye, "We're delighted that Jay is continuing his psychologically-abusive relationship with the NBC family. Like a battered spouse with low self-esteem, Jay keeps coming back no matter how times we screw him over. Give him the Tonight Show, only to openly consider replacing him with Letterman months later; throw him off when he's number one; put him on a lousy hybrid talk-variety-what-the-hell-is-this-shit show; give him back Tonight; cut the show's budget by half, then get rid of him again when he's still number one. Doesn't matter. We know he'll be there saying, 'I'm sorry, honey, I promise to do better next time.'"

Throwing darts at a dartboard featuring the face of Leno, Lanes added, "As you know, Jay was in talks with CNN, A&E, the History Channel, and several other networks and production companies. But not only did he come crawling back to the people who have zero respect for him, he's going to be on CNBC, the lowest-rated cable channel in the Western world. And in primetime, where he bombed four years ago! Man, does this do our hearts good."

"And when the inevitable ratings slide begins," Lanes said, juggling rolls of Jay Leno toilet paper, "that's when we'll dream up another inappropriate series for him. I'm thinking of something along the lines of his current web show, Jay's Garage. Only this is going to be called Jay's Garbage. We'll follow Jay as he empties the kitchen trash, then takes it to the dump in his 1922-model Shelvoke & Drewry garbage truck. There'll be a guest in the passenger seat, who Jay will interview during the ride."

When asked if this was too similar to Jerry Seinfeld's web series Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee, Lanes bristled. "Not at all. Because unlike Jerry, Jay's going to allow the guest to take the wheel for a few minutes. That's comedy, NBC-style!"

As the interview came to a close, Lanes remarked, "You know, they tell me there was a time when Jay was the funniest stand-up around -- edgy, if you can believe it. And that when he plays live gigs, he's still hilarious. But we at NBC like our jokes tepid and edges rubbed smooth. As long as Jay is ambulatory, he'll have a home at NBC: Nothing But Contempt."

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THE AGING DATING GAME

My wife spends the occasional weekend at a retreat in the Berkshires. After one visit, she said, "If I die first, you should go there. There are so many single women you could meet!"

Understandably, I asked, "How old are they?"

"Most of them are our age."

Understandably, I replied, "But I wouldn't want someone our age!" 

A slippery slope.

What younger woman wouldn't want to get involved with a man who was around when the likes of Humphrey Bogart, Oliver Hardy, and Ethel Barrymore still walked the earth? Especially if she even heard of them?

I'm kidding (kind of), but many older men aren't. According to a recent poll conducted by the dating site OK Cupid, 50 year-old single men prefer 22 year-old women. And although single men older than 50 weren’t part of this survey, I have a feeling many of them would be equally as delusional.

What was he thinking?

Women have a right to be unhappy about this state of affairs, but they have to take certain things into consideration. First, many older men suffer from ocular conditions that make their mirror reflections appear decades younger than they really are. Interestingly, the chances of this happening increases in proportion to their net worth. Exception to the rule: Taylor Hackford, who married Helen Mirren (in 1997) when they were both 52, and who are still together. Crazy show business people!

Man, is she old!

Second, if men are still single by age 50, it’s probably because they’re not marriage material to begin with. Exception to the rule: George Clooney. And just to show what a mensch he is, Clooney (age 53) married a woman only 17 years his junior.

Third, scientists say that men are hardwired to seek out the most fertile partners for the survival of the species. Although, frankly, I think they say that to justify the first two excuses.

I’m not sure what men in their 50s have in common with women three decades their junior, although emotional immaturity appears to come into play. I hear these girls talking on the street and in the subway, and few of them appear conversant in anything other than the latest pop sensation (usually with the moniker DJ or MC), or reality show celebrity. 

Too, they speak almost exclusively in a kind of verbal Morse code, thanks to the limits of Twitter, texting, and education. And don't get me going on the excessive use of "like" and "y'know," and that uptick at the end of every sentence which makes every declarative statement sound like a question?

MC Bobby D

While similar values were important during my dating days, a shallow guy like me gravitated toward pop culture touchstones. If I were still single, it would be paramount that a prospective date remembered a time when grade school came to a dead-stop to watch a rocket launch on a little black-and-white TV, a new Volkswagen Beetle cost $3,000, and Bob Dylan was regularly heard on Top 40 radio. The rest would take care of itself.

Men who troll for excessively-younger women will undoubtedly enjoy a quick thrill before their sugar babies eventually desire someone their own age. As for me, there’s something quite satisfying about spending a rainy Sunday afternoon on the couch with my wife, as we silently read and enjoy each other’s company. After 22 years of marriage, that’s pretty damn thrilling in itself.

And for the record, OK Cupid found that 50 year-old single women go for men no older than 46. Unfortunately, if you look at the graph atop the page, you'll see guys that age only have eyes for 20 year-old girls. 

Middle-aged women can take heart in one incontrovertible fact: there are more 
100 year-old men alive today than ever before. Start filling up those hot-water bottles, ladies!

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MOVIE OF THE DAY: "THE PRESIDENT'S MYSTERY" (1936)

James Blake has a bad case of the guilts, thanks to being a mouthpiece for George Sartos, the ruthless owner of National Cannery. After lobbying Congress to kill a proposal that would help small businesses at the expense of National Cannery's profits, Blake decides to cash in his $5,000,000 investments and fake his death. 

Leaving behind his faithless wife, Ilka, he moves to Springvale, a town negatively impacted by his lobbying, to revive the local co-op cannery. Ilka, meanwhile, is killed by Sartos' chauffeur, Roger. Just as Blake's succeeding in rebuilding Springvale, Sartos tracks him down. When Blake refuses Sartos' blackmail, he's arrested for Ilka's murder. The kindly sheriff lets Blake out of jail in order to prevent a mob -- paid by Sartos -- from destroying the cannery. Roger confesses to Ilka's death, and Sartos himself is arrested for inciting a riot.

I know what you're thinking. Where's the president? And where's the mystery? In the title, that's where. As the on-screen prologue explains:

How the hell do I know? You're the President.

President Franklin D. Roosevelt, talking with a magazine editor on one of his favorite subjects - mystery stories - advanced the question: "How can a man disappear with five million dollars of his own money in negotiable form and not be traced?" Challenged by this, the editor enlisted the aid of six famous authors. The result was a thrilling story. The same problem intrigued the producers of this photoplay, and in another form is now brought to the screen. The proceeds of the sale of the plot, both for publication and motion picture rights, have been given voluntarily by the publisher to the Georgia Warm Springs Foundation.  

Someone should tell Liberty that there's a
difference between "Plot By" and
"Shooting the Breeze with a Friend Over Drinks."

Well, that was a very generous donation. I only wish the screenwriters had been half as generous as donating a real mystery. In fact, the only mystery is why it's called a mystery. 

I've never read the original novel, but I would hope it's more "thrilling" than the movie. Hero James Blake isn't even smart enough to come up with the ol' fake-death-and-disappear routine on his own. He gets the idea from the latest copy of Liberty magazine where -- well, whaddaya know! -- The President's Mystery is prominently featured. Meta movie, 1936-style.

"Hey, I use a cigarette-holder like FDR.
I must be a good guy!"

If The President's Mystery is interesting at all today, it's because how ruthless and almost nihilistic businessman George Sartos is. An SOB whose corporate philosophy makes the Walton Family look like the Little Sisters of Mercy, he literally doesn't care about the effect his business practices have on anybody, as long as National Cannery's profits keep going north. 

James Blake's lobbying is shown in a montage that features everything you hate about Washington: boozing, schmoozing, golfing -- let's call it what it is, legal bribery -- interspersed with a series of screaming newspaper headlines: SMALL INDUSTRIES DOOMED! FEDERAL LOANS OUT! Hey, capitalist pigs gotta eat. 

C'mon, cheer up. Think of how happy
the corporate shareholders are!

And movie audiences gotta get romantic subplots, like the one James Blake has with Springvale Cannery owner Charlotte Brown. After meeting cute in a trout stream, Blake follows Charlotte back to the Springvale town meeting, where he discovers just how destructive his lobbying has been. This gives its citizens a chance to drive home how unchecked capitalism, crooked politicians and Godzilla-sized businesses can ruin entire towns. How nice that America has learned its lesson since then. Oh wait. (James and Charlotte are played by British-born Henry Wilcoxin -- a favorite of Cecil B. DeMille -- and Betty Furness, whose appearance is trumpeted on the credits as "Courtesy MGM". It must have been something of a drag for both to get loaned out to Poverty Row's Republic Pictures for a low-budget B-movie like this.)

Some of the movie's political theatre might be courtesy co-screenwriter Nathaniel West. Yes, the author of Miss Lonelyhearts and The Day of the Locust was better known -- make that better paid -- as a screenwriter, first at Republic Pictures, then later at RKO Radio. West might have painted a grim picture of Hollywood in Locust, but when you make a grand total of $1,280 from your novels (according to West bios), well, the movie factory looks pretty good. Great writers, like the aforementioned capitalist pigs, gotta eat, too.

Note FDR's quote on the upper left --
not exactly a ringing endorsement of
his own idea.

Over the years, The President's Mystery was one of those obscure movies I'd always wanted to see, just for its bizarre origins. A story written by six authors, each taking a different chapter, from an idea suggested by the sitting president. The film version co-written by a man almost unknown in his own day, but would later be renown as the author of two of the more trenchant novels about the underbelly of American popular culture. President Roosevelt himself gets a "Story Conceived By" screen credit.

And the result? A not-bad 52-minute movie which, had its origins been more humble, would have become even more forgotten than it already it is. It's remarkable, in its own way, that The President's Mystery successfully tackles so many different topics -- capitalism, quasi-socialism, murder, economics -- in less than an hour. In that respect, it would make a great double-bill with the still-relevant Washington Merry-Go-Round. And it still leaves time for a wedding engagement at the climax. 

Don't think I spoiled the ending -- that was no mystery, either.

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 To read about Washington-Merry-Go-Round, go here.

BREAKING NEWS: JOE BIDEN EDITION

Gaffe-prone Vice-President Joe Biden is coming under fire once more for a series of recent verbal missteps. Recently, he had to apologize to the Ant-Defamation League for calling unscrupulous money-lenders "shylocks." The same week, he referred to Asia as "the Orient."

Biden brushed off concerns that these and other misfires were going to hurt his chance at winning his party's presidential nomination in 2016. "That rumor must have been started by some stupid Polack. There's not a Chinaman's chance I'm in trouble. That boy in the Oval Office has put his full faith in me. The idea that people are taking offense is like saying an Irishman goes home sober every night. I mean, you've gotta be some kind of dumb blonde to believe it."

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BREAKING NEWS: WHITE HOUSE SECURITY BREACH EDITION

Two days after Secret Service Director Julia Pierson resigned, another White House security breach was reported. The intruder broke through the front door and, screaming unintelligibly, ran straight into the Oval Office. Fortunately, an agent was able to wrestle Mrs. Clinton to the ground.

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