A kindly older woman offered me a head scarf. I respectfully put it on, despite the heat. A few minutes later, however, an angry greyhaired man in a plaid shirt walked into the women’s area, came up to me and another female reporter from a different Calgary paper and insisted we leave. “No media allowed,” he barked.
“You don’t support us, we won’t support you,” said the man in plaid.
It was a strange occurrence, particularly since I had been invited to attend the event…
Ironically, TV was also getting more popular, and required an endless supply of “stuff” to air. Comedians who could manage it got into TV.
Eventually, the lucky (Milton Berle) or talented (everybodyelse) ones who made it in TV (on and off camera) made more money, had more comfortable lives and were seen by millions more people than they would have been in the Catskills.
But what if, before those great things had come to pass, the Catskills comics had tried to ban air conditioning in NYC because it threatened their “way of life”?
“First vaudeville, now this!! We demand the government DO something!!”
Thank God most of them were too drunk or distrustful of each other to get any such campaign going.
Plus this was the fifties, so people were less likely to think that way.
PS: The seventies were another matter — if you’ve never heard of the great Comedy Store Strike, click here.
The slick production is set for official release on the 11th anniversary of al-Qaida’s 2001 terrorist attacks.
The video presents a sympathetic view of Taliban fighters planting a roadside bomb in Afghanistan, detonating it, opening fire on the soldiers who emerge, and finally executing a wounded soldier hiding behind his vehicle.
Liberals hate big business and the white men who run it because the whole thing reminds them of their father. Dad was disappointed in them for spending tens of thousands of his dollars at NYU taking Japanese Animation & New Media.
Therefore, massage their own daddy complexes by pretending to hate the rich white male father figure as much as they do. (…) Say, “These guys aren’t entrepreneurs. They’re slave drivers.”
Then you can add, “That’s the saddest part about illegal immigration. It only benefits rich whites in both countries.
“Poor Mexicans on both sides of the border are worse off for it, and black workers in California are the first ones to lose jobs to illegal—sorry—undocumented workers.”
Don’t say, “Multiculturalism is a weakness,” because the liberal hears, “Having a variety of restaurants scares me because I’m racist.”
Instead say, “High schools in California have metal detectors and the tension between blacks and Hispanics is getting so bad, it’s bordering on a race war. Why? So rich whites can ‘steal’ another $100 million.”
In a deeply narcissistic age, self-aggrandising tattoos have become the body badge of choice for thousands. But by enlarging ourselves with tattoos, we’re belittling ourselves in the process. It’s a sign of our low expectations that having control over flesh decorations is considered to be the limit of our capacities as an individual. So while shaping the outside world seems near impossible, you can at least shape barbed-wire patterns on your arm.
By the way: watch the hysteria that accompanies pieces like this. Tattoo freaks are almost as bad as trannies in terms of sheer touchiness and irrationality.
Which comes as no surprise since they can’t help but take these criticisms personally: these narcissists’ entire identities are embodied in their ugly expensive “ink” or their collection of size 12 pumps.
PS: As I’ve been saying for decades, “cool” is not a Christian concept.
You can only be one or the other.
The attempt to be both is the sand upon which every Christian attempt at “relevancy” has been constructed, with predictable results.
The handwriting is on the wall in Canada, which legalized same-sex “marriage” in 2005, in effect completely changing its true meaning. Since then, as Michael Coren notes in National Review Online, “there have been between 200 and 300 [legal] proceedings … against critics and opponents of same-sex marriage.” (…)
In British Columbia, the Knights of Columbus agreed to rent its building for a wedding reception before finding out that the couple was lesbian. When they did find out, they apologized to the women and agreed to both find an alternative venue and pay the costs for printing new invitations: But that wasn’t good enough. The women prosecuted, and the Human Rights Commission ordered the Knights of Columbus to pay a fine.
Of course, the lesbians knew perfectly well what the Catholic Church teaches about marriage, but they sought out a Catholic-owned building, anyway. As Michael Coren puts it, “it’s becoming obvious that Christian people, leaders, and organizations are being targeted, almost certainly to create legal precedents”—precedents intended to silence and punish anyone who dares to disagree with so-called gay “marriage.”
Savage told his “Savage Nation” listeners that on the way to the studio for his program tonight he visited a world famous neurologist he knows, and they talked about Obamacare.
The physician urged Savage to check out Roberts’ history with epilepsy, referring him to a New York Times report in August 2007.
The article said that after Roberts suffered a seizure, doctors were weighing whether to treat him with powerful drugs with “troubling side effects,” including mental slowing and forgetfulness.
Roberts had suffered a seizure 14 years earlier. The seizures meet the criteria for epilepsy, the Times report said, because they were “unprovoked,” meaning that they were not caused by a head injury, a drug reaction or another known factor.
The neurologist told Savage that Roberts’ cognition could be affected by taking epilepsy medicine.
Equally implausible is the jump the Minis take over a long gap between buildings at Fiat’s factory, made up to look like a Turinese street. According to calculations based on the weight of gold and inflation, each Mini would have had to carry nearly twice their weight in gold bars, so nearly everything about the best part of The Italian Job is magnificent, boldface and – literally – gilded bullshit. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, cinematically speaking. (…)
I’d go so far as to say that the film’s enduring popularity as a Mojo magazine icon/Cool Britannia antecedent kept the Mini’s reputation alive as fewer of them survived on the roads, and probably contributed to the marque’s survival and BMW’s decision to revive it in its slightly bigger, much heavier and far more luxurious form in 2001.