SCARAMUCCI, WHY?

Anthony Scaramucci said Tuesday that he is prepared to “fire everybody” in the White House communications shop in order to put an end to embarrassing internal leaks.

The financier and longtime Trump surrogate is eager to shake up the communications shop, which has been dominated by former Republican National Committee staffers loyal to White House chief of staff Reince Priebus, a former RNC chairman.

“They’ll all be fired by me,” he said. “I fired one guy the other day. I have three to four people I’ll fire tomorrow. (...)  Reince Priebus—if you want to leak something—he’ll be asked to resign very shortly.”

Sung to the tune of "Cara Mia" by Jay & the Americans:

Scaramucci, why

Must I say goodbye?

Each time I leak,

I start to get high!

I'm not such a chump,

I'm just helping Trump.

I'm praising him

When I'm on Fox News!

Scaramucci, why?

Scaramucci, why?

Scaramucci, why?

Scaramucci, why?

Scaramucci, look --

Don't give me the hook.

I'm chief of staff

Not some stupid mook.

Tony, hear my plea,

Please don't make me flee

I'm praising Trump 

When I'm on Fox News!

Scaramucci, why?

Scaramucci, why?

Scaramucci, why?

Scaramucci, why?

Each time I leak,

I start to get hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh!

Tony, let me be
A White House entity
I'll praise you, too,
When I'm on Fox News!

Scaramucci, why?

Scaramucci, why?

Scaramucci, why?
Scaramucci, why?

Scaramucci, whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?

                                                     **********************

STRICTLY ON BACKGROUND, PT. 12: "FRIENDS FROM COLLEGE"

It was a crisp, sunny November morning when I stepped out of the bus at the Tuxedo Club in Tuxedo Park, NY. I had arrived for my first "classy" role, one of a couple of hundred old-money swells attending a wedding. Up until now, the only old money I had ever been associated with were my collection of Indian-head pennies.

As the rest of the extras gathered inside the huge tent outside the club, I glanced around at the others who'd arrived earlier. As one of my colleagues pointed out, the production hired what were essentially the all-stars in the extra field.

Two months into this gig, and I was already accepted into ranks of the greats. Or they just needed as many people as possible to fill out the scene.

I had no idea what Friends from College was, or who the stars were. It wasn't until the P.A. gave us a quick rundown of what to expect in the first scene and started mentioning the cast that I had an idea: Seth Rogen, Keegan-Michael Key, Fred Savage... Hey! I know who those people are! 

Reminds me of the reform school.

Now this was getting really interesting, especially when we were ushered inside for our first scene. The Tuxedo Club is the kind of place where TV shows want to feature a place like the Tuxedo Club, know what I mean?

Forget about Platinum, you need an Iridium Amex Card to get into this joint. If you ever have a chance to attend a wedding at the Tuxedo Club, by all means go. Of course, you need a multi-millionaire friend or relative, but that shouldn't be too difficult to find.

It took only five minutes to shoot the scene, featuring a conga line snaking through the endless dining room while the rest of us grooved from the sidelines. Fortunately, I was so far away from the camera, my bad grooving would be invisible to the audience. What made up for my non-screen appearance, however, was walking past Seth Rogen, talking to whom I presumed to be the director, as we were ushered outside afterwards. For anyone interested, he looks and sounds like he does onscreen, which shouldn't be much of a shock.

Eight hours later, we were called back for more of the post-wedding party. Again, the camera and I weren't exactly the tightest of friends. It wasn't until the final shot, a few hours later, that I finally had my moment.

The party was now winding down, the remaining guests either dancing to the final
number or finishing dessert. As I described my dancing skills already, you know what I was picked for. Another extra and I were placed a table several feet across from another featuring the stars.

It wasn't until episode 6 of Friends from College became available a week or two ago on Netflix that I discovered I had a juicy shot -- front and left, and at the very beginning of the scene, being offered coffee by a server. 

For the first time, you couldn't miss me. Finally I was in a scene where former friends could ask with unmitigated jealousy, "Hey, what the hell is Kevin doing on TV?!" Eating a slice of cake, that's what.

I was happy to accept my server's offer for a cup of coffee, if only to perk me up (by now, I had been there close to 15 hours and was on the verge of narcolepsy). Pro that I am, however, you couldn't tell I discovered too late that it was cold. Oof!







I can be glimpsed in the background during the rest of the scene, a blurry figure eating cake and chatting with my tablemate. It wasn't until the very end that I was closer to the camera once more, sticking a fork in my mouth. Now I know why the Queen isn't allowed to be photographed while eating.

All in all, a lovely wedding. I just had no idea who got married. But the cake was good.


                                     **********************************************

MOVIE OF THE DAY: "LADYBUG LADYBUG" (1963)

Playing less like a movie and more like a long episode of The Twilight Zone with better cinematography, Ladybug Ladybug was one of many high-anxiety movies of the '50s and early '60s tackling the possibility of nuclear war -- Dr. Strangelove, Fail-Safe, Panic in the Year Zero!, On the Beach, etc.

The difference here is that Ladybug Ladybug focuses on the effect that nukes has on children. As if they really matter.

"Y" is for "Yes, your ass is cooked."

The classes at a rural elementary school are  rudely interrupted one morning by the ugly sound of an air raid buzzer. When it doesn't appear to be a drill -- and nobody can get through the authorities to glean the veracity of the warning -- the principal reluctantly orders the schoolkids to go home. Let's see... school -- or possible annihilation? What to choose?

While many travel on a bus, the rest are walked home, in two different groups, by their teachers. They need to arrive within an hour before the bombs are likely to drop. Now you tell us!

Don't get too comfortable, kids.

Their journey -- played out more or less in real time -- explores the kids' reaction to what initially seems like just a strange drill. Moments of peace are fleeting -- a boy named Gary reassuring his younger brother while finding a connection with a girl, Jill, he never spoke to before -- as fear and paranoia spread among the rest. Girls in my school were filled with fear and paranoia when I spoke to them.

Well, this doesn't look encouraging.

Each kid arrives home hoping for some kind of solace, but finds only parents too busy to calm them, grandparents on the verge of dementia, or empty houses. The hard-headed Harriet invites the remaining kids to join her in her family's bomb shelter while she waits for her parents to arrive. Party!

Harriet the Autocrat.

Well, not exactly. Instead of feeling safer, the kids feel their angst shoot up to 11 when Harriet starts barking out orders like martinet (or, being a girl, would that make her a martinette?). Apparently brainwashed by her equally-dominant parents, she quickly hands out schedules to eat, drink, and sleep -- no questions allowed. Did I call her a martinet? Make that a wife.

Harriet soon shows her true colors when Jill, having returned to an empty house, tries desperately to join the others in the shelter. Explaining that there won't be

No room at the nuclear inn.

enough room, Harriet refuses to let the distraught girl inside. Moments later, Gary tries to find Jill, not realizing that, in trying to find her own safe space, she has literally sealed her own doom. The other kids are left to panic on their own.

But guess what -- nobody realizes that the air raid warning was an accident. Hah! Joke's on them!

From Ladybug Ladybug's opening moments -- a freeze frame of a hand holding a stopwatch, stark credits accompanied by a simple flute and harp score -- we know we're watching an "important" early '60s drama. In keeping with the mood, much of the dialogue is a little overripe for schoolkids, while most of the adults are ineffectual at best, and uncaring at worst. And the freeze frame on Gary in its closing seconds, while probably chillingly effective at the time, further dates the movie.

However, props must be given to the writing/directing team of Frank and Eleanor Perry for making kids, rather than politicians or generals, the stars of Ladybug Ladybug. Also nice is the ambiguous climax where, despite the earlier explanation of a short circuit, it's unclear whether the sounds of planes approaching and bombs dropping are real or a figure of Gary's fearful, overworked imagination.

And what would an early '60s movies be without soon-to-be famous actors -- in this case, William Daniels, Nancy Marchand and Estelle Parsons. Coincidence alert: Jill, the doomed girl, describes herself as a soprano, while her teacher, Marchand, played the matriarch on The Sopranos! What do I win?

Movies like Ladybug Ladybug have to be seen in the context of their time. Everything is hit on the nose a little too hard; there's a definite feeling of wanting to get across an idea that had never been before expressed cinematically. Yet these detriments accurately evoke the era (both in terms of cinema and life itself) for today's audiences too young to have experienced it, and revives it for those of us who are, shall we say, somewhat evergreen in our years.

Yes, there was a time when fear could be gotten across in a simple, two-instrument score, no special effects, and in black and white. Audiences in 1963 would have found Ladybug Ladybug far scarier than any Transformers movie. And considering what's happening in the world today, so should we.

                                                 ***************************

BREAKING NEWS: 7/14/17

A growing movement among patients and psychiatrists believe that people who hear voices in their heads should have the right to refuse psychoactive drugs, and to listen to what the voices are saying instead.

Stephen Orlac, a patient and spokesman for the group, told reporters, "We believe this to be the best treatment for people like us with this condition. No, it isn't. Yes, it is! No, it isn't, you stupid bastard! Yes, it is, you whiney son of a bitch! No, it isn't, and why don't you just throw yourself off a bridge!"

Researchers at Harvard Medical School and the Wyss Institute for Biologically Inspired Engineering have stored a short video in the DNA of bacteria and then retrieved it. It’s the first time a video has been recorded into living cells.

They next to plan to store the video into Chris Christie's DNA in order to see it in IMAX.

In other science news, researchers at the University of California, San Francisco have found that having sex once a week can slow aging.

In a subsequent poll, an overwhelming number of wives said, "We'll stick with plastic surgery, thank you."

In related news, plastic surgeons at the University of Utah have discovered that breast implants can lessen gunshot wounds by slowing the bullets.

Doctors noticed an immediate upswing in men showing concern about saving the lives of their girlfriends and wives.

When Ashley Murrell banished her husband to sleep in the living room after he spent another 16-hour shift at work, she woke up the following morning to find him dead on the couch.

Local police reported their switchboard overloaded with calls from wives requesting the brand name of the couch.

                                                                     *******************

A PHARMACEUTICAL COMMERCIAL

INT. WHITE HOUSE OFFICE - DAY

DONALD TRUMP, JR., sitting on a couch, browses through a photo album, a look of concern crossing his face. His wife VANESSA sits beside him, lovingly rubbing his back. We hear:

VANESSA (v.o.): It started when my husband was looking through pictures of his friends and colleagues -- and didn't seem to remember who they were.

C.U. on photo album: Photos of Natalia Veselnitskaya, Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov, and Ambassador Sergey Kislyak.

Trump, Jr. looks at Vanessa with an expression that reads: Who are these people?

CUT TO: JARED KUSHNER, at his desk, filling out an official document, while IVANKA TRUMP looks over his shoulder. Like Vanessa, she appears concerned. We hear:

IVANKA (v.o.): My husband was always a stickler for details. So we knew there was a problem when my husband was forgetting to fill out important documents correctly.

C.U. on security clearance documents. Questions regarding Kushner meeting with any foreign officials are blank.

CUT TO: Montage of Trump, Jr. and Kushner with their wives in various homey situations: walking through the White House, standing on the White House south portico, sitting on benches in the park, etc., always trying to put on a brave face, as we hear:

NARRATOR (warm, caring): When a loved one is diagnosed with Russian Dementia, it can seem that all hope is lost. But now there's Leakxium. Leakxium is a new treatment that has shown to restore memory in those affected.

CUT TO: Montage of the couples as Trump, Jr. now happily recognizes the photos, and Kushner chuckles at the absurdity of leaving the government documents blank. CUT TO: Vanessa, now smiling at the camera.

VANESSA: After only three daily doses of Leakxium, my husband was able to recognize everyone he had forgotten meeting.

CUT TO: Ivanka, also smiling.

IVANKA: Leakxium brought back the memories that my husband believed were lost forever.

CUT TO: Further montages of the happy couples resuming a normal life, as we hear:

NARRATOR (v.o.): Possible side effects of Leakxium include public ridicule, perjury charges, and jail time. If you suffer any of these reactions, call your lawyer at once.

CUT TO: Vanessa and Ivanka.

VANESSA: With Leakxium, my husband's memory has been restored to its best condition since the summer of 2016.

IVANKA: If you, or any of your loved ones, have Russian Dementia, Leakxium is the treatment for them. Just make sure they're ready for the blowback.

C.U.: Bottle of Leakxium.

NARRATOR (v.o.): Ask your advisor if Leakxium is right for you. Leakxium -- from Deep State Pharmaceuticals.

                                                           **********************

NONE OF OUR YESTERDAYS

July 6, 1957: John is saved from the local constabulary
inviting him to the lockup.

At the risk of soiling my reputation as a Pulitzer Prize-winning historian (my book Things Have Always Been Bad and Are Getting Worse is now in its 5th printing), I neglected to note that yesterday, June 6, marked the 60th anniversary of John Lennon meeting Paul McCartney.

This would be, then, a good time not to ponder the Beatles' impact on the world. Instead, suppose what would have happened if, instead of watching John and his band the Quarrymen perform on the back of a flatbed truck at a church social, Paul said, "Eh, I think I'll go see Elvis in Loving You at the Odeon. That's a real rocker."

Only 15, and George already thinks he's better
than you.

For one thing, near the end of his life, John admitted that he would have wound up in jail had he never met Paul. Imagine the consequences: How would John ever had gotten his hands on high-grade acid and heroin? Would Ringo have become the greatest strip club drummer in the world? How would George have the chance to show his contempt for anyone who didn't share his beliefs? And how would Paul ever become the richest person in music?

But let's not focus just on the Beatles. The world itself would have been a far different place had John and Paul remained strangers. For instance:

Ed Sullivan would have been better known for plate-spinners, talking to an Italian mouse,

Circa 1960: Paul plants the idea of wearing
glasses in John's head.

and shoving Sergio Franchi down America's throat every other week.

Today's Beatle cover bands would be doing tribute shows to Jan & Dean.

The Rolling Stones would have remained a two-bit blues band, this depriving Mick Jagger from getting laid by 5,000 women. 

Brian Wilson never would have gone off his rocker trying to top Sgt. Pepper with Smile, and just continued writing songs about surfing and driving, to the relief of Mike Love. 

However, sensing an opening, Yoko Ono would have broken up Brian Wilson's marriage and the Beach Boys. Their first album together, the self-titled Ceramic Ono Band, would feature Brian screaming about his father Murry, Mike Love, and those striped shirts the Beach Boys had to wear in concert. Yoko's contribution would be limited to imitating a mental ward patient, and having Brian sign over his publishing rights.

Dr. Eugene Landy, in turn, would have lost his medical license for treating Gary Lewis' PTSD by denying him cheeseburgers.

Ready to take on the world -- and lay every girl in it.

While in concert, Frank Sinatra wouldn't have continued crediting "Something" to being composed by "Mr. Lennon and Mr. McCartney" until the end of his life.

The first line in George Martin's obituary would have been, "An obscure record producer, best known, if at all, for novelty records and working with British song stylist Matt Munro..."

"Shitty ancillary merchandise?
What shitty  ancillary
merchandise?"

No one would have come up with the idea of backwards tapes, thus depriving the religious right of yet another cudgel to swing in order to raise money for their questionable lifestyles. 

The Electric Light Orchestra would have slavishly copied the Dave Clark 5.

An entire generation of kids never would have had the chance to make fools of themselves by wearing ratty Beatle wigs.

Despite John's best efforts, Paul still
recognizes him.

Without Paul as his target, John would have gotten his drunken ass kicked on a regular basis for slagging off the blokes at the neighborhood pub.

Without John as his foil, Paul would have released his first (and last) U.S Top 10 single "Yesterday", earning him guest spots on The Hollywood Palace, The Kraft Music Hall, and Jackie Gleason and His American Scene Magazine, before returning to the UK to host Music with McCartney, airing Saturday evenings for the next 50 years. Paul would later describe his time in the U.S. as "the most amazing week of my life."

                                            

                       

                          *****************************

BREAKING NEWS: 7/6/17

Thirty people have signed on to participate in a Russian Hunger Games-style reality survival show, where they will have to hunt down criminals on a remote Siberian island, and where neither fighting, rape nor murder is prohibited.

The producers said it's a remake of The Chicago 11:00 News.

In Brazil, goalkeeper Bruno Fernandes de Souza has returned to playing soccer seven years after having the mother of his child abducted, tortured, murdered, and fed to a pack of dogs.

In explaining the brief prison sentence, police spokesman Diego Mierda said, "The dogs were hungry."





Sydney Smith, 30, of Los Angeles, has given up her dream of having her neck stretched after wearing five pounds of rings around her neck for five years. Smith said she was "obsessed" with giraffes.

She came up with the idea shortly after becoming obsessed with idiots.







Alexander Rasumny has organized the "Rent-A-Jew" project in Germany in order to promote cultural understanding and dialogue by offering face-to-face encounters with Jews.


"The catch is," Rasumny admitted, "their mothers have to meet you first so they can find out what you do for a living."

The Democratic National Committee this week asked party members to vote for their favorite bumper sticker to coincide with the 2018 elections. Slogans include "She Persisted, We Resisted", "Resist Persist" and "Democrats 2018: I Mean, Have You Seen the Other Guys?"

When asked why the DNC went this route, spokesman Brad Lanes told reporters, "It's easier than coming up with a winning strategy."

                                        *******************************
                                                    

THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF RAQQA

Several weeks ago, I wrote about Daniela Greene, the FBI translator who married rapper-turned-terrorist Abu Talha al-Almani -- conveniently forgetting she was already married to a law-abiding man in the U.S. They moved to Syria to live violently ever after. Or at least for a few weeks, which is how long it took her to decide she had made the biggest marital mistake since Ethel Merman and Ernest Borgnine. 

Before and after: Like many women in showbiz, Sally
Jones acquired a personal stylist.

Just to prove that America isn't the only country to produce women with odd tastes in men, meet British-born Sally Jones, a former member of the punk rock band Krunch, who, in 2013, fell burqa over heels for ISIS soldier Junaid Hussain.

You can already figure out what was going through her mind: What's the most punk rock thing I can do? I know -- join ISIS! Before you could say "Is this camel express or local?", Jones had changed her name to Umma Hussain (not to be confused with Uma Thurman, who has equally questionable tastes in husbands).

Soon, Junaid & Umma had become the Sonny & Cher of Syria, dubbed "Mr. & Mrs. Terror" by friends and foe alike. But instead of cutting records, they were out to cut some throats. 

Soon after moving to Raqqa -- even the name sounds, well, rock -- media savvy Umma made sure her fans could follow her by setting up a Twitter page. “My husband is away at training camp at the moment refreshing his ‘kaafir [infidel] killing skills’, went one early Tweet. "Don’t cry though he’ll be back soon :)” Not only does this fulfill the ideal of a hardworking husband, it also proves that ISIS is no stranger to emojis.

But like any artist worth her salt, Umma wasn't afraid to challenge her audience: “You Christians all need beheading with a nice blunt knife and stuck on the railings at raqqa..... Come here and I will do it for you.” And you thought Sid was Vicious.

Actually, it does look like he
wants to.

Yet Umma still had a maternal aide, having brought her then-10 year-old son Jojo with her to Syria. Unlike many kids who have a hard time adapting to a stepfather, Jojo joined the family business (whether he wanted to or not), living under the name Hamza, and executing heathens on his home turf.

Some guys go through their whole lives not knowing what they want to do -- and here's a kid, not yet 13, who already has his career laid out in front of him! Again, whether he wants it or not.

Good thing, too. Stepdad Junaid was killed in a drone strike in 2015, making Junior the terrorist of the house. Stoic that she is, Umma wrote, “I’m proud my husband was killed by the biggest enemy of Allah, may Allah be pleased with him, and I will never love anyone but him.” The blow was softened, too, by a monthly £520 stipend, with an occasional bonus for being a martyr's widow. Nice to know some businesses still have pension plans.

Rather than carrying on her late husband's foul deeds as planned, however, Umma quickly

Sally Jones aka Umma Husain:
the new Singing Nun.

became stuck between Raqqa and a hard place, having been demoted by the ISIS board of directors to the girls dorm, where prospective brides await the honor of being  "military wives".

Unfortunately, two years later she remains single. At 49, you see, Umma Hussain is considered too old to be marriage material. She didn't have to leave the West to discover that.

Now, according to one of her sister military wives, Umma wants to return home and put all this nonsense behind her. Talk about naïve! Does the new Axis Sally really think British authorities will let her dig out her old leather miniskirt, strap on the electric guitar, and go on a reunion tour with Krunch without, er, some Western-style penance?

Probably not. Like Daniela Greene, Sally/Umma undoubtedly realizes she's made her dirt-covered floor, and  has to lie in it. She now spends her days crying in the dorm.

Crying? Crying?! There's no crying in terrorism!

                                                     ***********************