James Dean Died 60 Years Ago Today

DATELINE: A Small Tribute

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Would the ultimate Rebel Without A Cause actually be 84 today if he had lived? It is unlikely he would have survived the 1960s or the 1980s with his lifestyle.

Yet, we still think of his eternal adolescence, painful youth, and promise lost.

This week as a tribute to Dean we decided to give away copies of our caustic biography of the star, THE NEXT JAMES DEAN. The book featured some insider knowledge of Dean never published before—or since. One fan accused us of snapping a photo of his dead body for the cover image.

Then we took on all the imitators, clones, and clowns, who tried to emulate James Dean. Some were guiltless victims of studio publicity, but many went slightly bonkers trying to emulate him.

Dean made ten times the number of TV shows as his movies. And, most fans probably have not seen hours and hours of his live TV performances. Some are stunning, years ahead of their time.

Few fans know that ghoulish Alfred Hitchcock decided to film one of his seminal suspense scenes at the site of Dean’s deadly car crash. Yes, that desolate stretch of highway is where Cary Grant is chased by a crop duster in North by Northwest. Well, it’s actually a model, a drone by today’s standards.

Fans may not know that the same stretch of road is thought to be haunted by the ghost of Dean and his mysterious and missing death car. Each year on September 30th, around 6pm in the sunset, you can hear a sports car racing down the highway, but end up in a crashing sound. It is the ghost car of Dean.

Fox News is now reporting the car has been found, hidden away behind a false wall to prevent it from killing new victims.

We thought Dean was deader than a door-nail by now. One of his few surviving contemporaries thinks he won’t last. Yet, when we put our e-book up for free taking in honor of James Dean, about 300 fans downloaded our testimonial book. We were delighted.

There were no strings, catches, or tricks. We just gave the book away to dedicated fans. We think Jim Dean of Indiana would have approved.

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Super Bowl L Compromised

DATELINE: Wafting Emanations

What the ‘L’ is going on, NFL?Featured image

You want to put Deflategate behind you, like Satan, but you don’t accomplish that by scheduling your appeal court date three days before the half-time show.

In case you were wondering, the NFL does not believe Tom Brady will appear in Super Bowl 50.  As we have all noticed, the NFL has abandoned their traditional Roman numeral for the next Super Bowl, thinking its fans would not understand the meaning of L.

They also have agreed to have the appeal of Deflategate during the week of the Super Bowl in February of 2016. So much for their claims they did not want Deflategate to distract fans.

So, there will be two super events leading up to kickoff.  Media Day will compete with Court Day.

A few legal experts claim Tom will not have to travel back to court with an entourage of lawyers and media in tow.

Yet, we cannot help but think the notion of a Super Bowl quarterback facing the ultimate distraction is a guarantee to try to make the Patriots lose the game.

Integrity, where is thy sting?

Ask that old Bumblebee Goodell.  We aren’t sure if Roger is a stinger or a stinker.

The idea that the NFL will try to compromise who wins the game is only slightly less appalling than the idea that the entire enterprise is fixed, a long held suspicion among the cognoscenti.

Ortiz 502, Brady 401

DATELINE: Record Winners

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We haven’t made enough of the record setters this month.

First, David Ortiz passed 500 home runs in his career. It is unexpected since everyone urged him to retire when he had about 400 round-trippers. Ortiz never listened to his critics.

On the same level playing field, Tom Brady was urged at the start of last year to call it a game. He came back with a vengeance—and is now on a Revenge of the Deflategate tour.

Neither man listened to the wizened, but unwise media and radio blabbers. Thank heavens. Brady’s freight train of bombs pushed him past 400 touchdowns this week.

So, today Tom Brady has surpassed a mark that Roger Goodell never expected to occur in the first four games of this season. Brady was supposed to be on the shelf, prevented from having a moment of glory in a sport Goodell himself never could play.

Brady and Ortiz have graced the Boston skyline longer than some of the new scrapers along the Charles.

If you’re around long enough, you will tend to break a few records and a few hearts. If you are a lucky superstar, you keep them in proportion to your fanbase.

Like Tom, Big Papi has also been run down in a scandal of PED use. All those around him lost their heads and hearts to enhanced statistics. Oh, they’ve accused Ortiz of dubious behavior, much like Tom Brady.

However, you cannot deny the overwhelming evidence of decades of high level performance.

Something else is at work. It’s called talent beyond that of mortal men.

So, this week in Boston sports we shout out our Pope Francis ‘hosannah on high’ (usually reserved for messiahs)  to Tom Brady and David Ortiz for giving us hundreds of breathtaking moments in the 21st century.

Yikes! The Ghost of Deflategate Returns

DATELINE: Oh, the Horror!Featured image

Like a bad movie sequel, Deflategate has risen from the dead again and is now ready to reap its zombie plot on another football season. We haven’t seen such horror since Abbot and Costello met Frankenstein.

In an act of solidarity that might make weaker men vomit, the NFL and the NFLPA have agreed to speed up the appeal process to suspend Tom Brady.

You might say the players’ union and Brady must be fairly confident that they will prevail to enter into an agreement with the Devil-may-care Goodell contingent.

Of course, all this may be a plot to guarantee more media coverage for yet another off-season. You can’t beat football zombies running through the NBA, MLB, and NHL seasons.

NFL officials all insist that 2015 and the playoffs in 2016, for Super Bowl 50, are sacrosanct. There will be no stopping Brady from appearing. They claim to want to have the matter over in time for the summer camp of 2016.

Perhaps Brady will be retired at that point. In all likelihood, he will be gearing up for another run at the Super Bowl.

The ostensible reason for the appeal speeding up is to settle the matter once and for all time about the authority of the NFL in matters of discipline.

And, you thought it was just to guarantee another shot at punishing Tom.

So, the Ghost of Deflategate will continue to haunt us for the foreseeable future. Everyone gags at the mention of the term, but don’t let that stop Roger Goodell from finding a balm for his bruised ego.

A Word Whispered to Donald Trump

DATELINE: Pass It Along to The Donald

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Two weeks ago, we noted the parallels between Mr. Donald Trump and General George Patton.

This week, in an interview, Trump mentioned his admiration for the great World War II leader.

So, undaunted, we think The Donald ought to take a page out of the movie script written by Francis Ford Coppola back in the 1960s.

The George C. Scott movie began with Patton coming up to a podium before a gigantic American flag—and he delivered a homily with pizzazz.

How natural would it be for Donald J. Trump to rise from below to stand before an American flag backdrop and deliver a message about veterans?

We are not on Mr. Trump’s payroll. That ship has sailed along with the gravy train chock full of hangers on. We are charmed enough by the beguiling frankness of Trump to make an occasional suggestion to fit in with his message and attitude.

We do not advocate that he go around slapping silly his Republican opponents. He has already mastered that dope slap approach and has applied it judiciously.

We do think it would not hurt to be seen at the local park in Hamilton, Massachusetts, where General Patton’s tank sits in the middle the town green. We love a good photo op—and know Mr. Trump does too.

 

 

 

Tom Brady: Salt Shaker of the Earth

DATELINE:  Of Biblical Proportions

Featured image Curse of the Cat People

Who is the Bum of the Week for Tom Brady?

Who is this week’s victim? Someone must be thrown to the lion, and we will watch the carnage at the Gillette close shave amphitheater, and this lion does not reside in Detroit. He is the king of the jungle known as Foxboro.

His minions are wildlife running amok with names like Jules, Gronk, and Chandler. Hold the Mayo.

Jacksonville’s ersatz team will be entering the lion’s den—and their quarterback is unfortunately not named Daniel. We expect to see a cryin’ jag of monumental proportions.

Yes, the hue and cry shall be, “Mercy,” and not the kind dispensed by the late, great Red Sox announcer Ned Martin. We expect the calls for mercy will come from the media that dunned Tom Brady as a Cheater Emeritus.

Yes, the same people who were disbelievers of the message of Brady and called him the anti-QB, now shall reaping what they sowed.

Hell may have no fury like a woman scorned, but a soft-spoken New England quarterback may not be far behind. Tom Brady will not lag in his attempt to put the Jag team in the rear view mirror, more devastated than the wreck of the Hesperus.

Hurricane Tom may start a surge of gushing touchdowns that will rain down on the plain cities of the NFL. If you believe that he who is without sin should cast the first stone, Brady’s footballs will fall like meteors upon the faithless fans of football.

If Tom Brady now hails from Sodom and Gomorrah, it is only in his angelic guise that he turns his opponents into pillars of salt.

Tom Brady: Onward with the Torch Held High

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Tom Brady had one of the most amazing games of his career this Sunday against the Bills.

However, in some NFL offices, this was greeted with disgust. When it came to naming the Player of the Week, for the second time in two weeks, the NFL went to a lesser mortal.

Some fans are now speculating that the NFL is dining on sour grapes. It may be their intention to deny Brady any acknowledgement of existence for the four weeks of the season they wanted him suspended.

So, play as he will, the NFL will ignore his work and accomplishments.

For them the asterisk is all in their pea brain.

If you wanted or needed evidence of the pettiness of Roger Goodell, you have only to see that the denial of Brady recognition is the emblem on the shield.

Before the season began, the NFL posted a graphic with the contending QBs for the Super Bowl 50—and nary a Tom photo dotted the matrix.

Now they continue the small minded feud by refusing to recognize greatness. They still want to honor him with a bunch of sticks ablaze as he is tied to a pillory. Shades of Joan of Arc. They just want the guy dead.

It could be that this vendetta against Brady will linger far beyond week four. Yet, Tom is on his own mission: the Vindication Tour in which he torches every team that questioned his integrity—and he probably adds a few of Roger Goodell’s favorites to the list.

Will it result in an undefeated season that takes no prisoners?

There could be nothing more pleasurable than a Super Bowl that the Commissioner avoids.

Unpaid Bills, Credited Patriots

DATELINE: T-Rex Deafened by Crowd Noise

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In anticipation of beating the New England Patriots, T-Rex Ryan was prepared to do the Dance of the Seven Veils to have the head of Tom Brady delivered to him on a silver platter.

Alas, Rex is no Salome. He is more like a salami roll covered in mustard.

The Bills coach is insisting too that the entire league is against the Patriots and want his team to beat them. Well, it is not rocket science to believe that all opponents of Bill and Tom want to beat them.

Ryan may be the next Twinkle Toes when it comes to the glass slipper he wants to try on. We all know that Tom Brady is the only one whose slim foot fits into a glass slipper.

By the time midnight rolls around, our salami roll Buffalo wings coach will turn into a pumpkin pie. Before he is minced up, he may look like a hollow jack o’lantern. It’s appropriate with the season about to change to hobgoblin time.

Yes, night must fall, and so must Fall fall. It could be the fall of the Ryan Empire before he has even established bragging rights.

By halftime you could hear a pin drop. The problem with arrogance is that players tend to play cheap shot games. The Bills took their coach’s words to heart: penalties seemed to flow like crowd noise.

By fourth quarter, T-Rex was a subdued man, though his team made it interesting—owing to a Brady fumble. In the end, T-Rex seemed as taciturn as Bill Belichick who never gloats. Their end-game hand-shake was piss-poor. Ryan never acknowledged Brady.

Our Prediction is Our Predilection: Patriots Best Bills Collectors

DATELINE: Patriotic Gore

If you are surprised at the number of people who have picked the Patriots to lose their road opener to the Buffalo-winged Bills, a Jurassic Park team under a T-Rex coach, you must be living under an obsidian rock. The post-deflated Patriots are pumped up. Straight is the gate.

Picking the Pats to lose is the purview of a group of people who’d make mainstream political candidates cringe. The Patriots are hated, fans. They are despised across the spectrum, and more unliked by media shills. In fact, media/Fourth Estate types may be pandering to their readers and followers by dunning the Patsies.

You may have fallen under the spell of ESPN with their perpetual lyrical parallel hypnosis treatment of viewers. The spell has put national football fans into a robotic anti-Brady mood.

Bear in mind that Tom Brady has won over 160 career games if he throws for 24 points or more during his cakewalk. And, he is now upon his world tour of vengeance. Buffalo will soon be a checkmark of no consequence in the juggernaut of Belichick’s minions.

Bear in mind that Rob Gronkowski is a Buffalo native with a desire to show the home crowd how good he is.

It’s enough to make us scratch our pinhead. Why would anyone think the Patriots don’t stand a chance against the Bills?

We suppose that the selection of the Bills increases rabid fandom quotient (RFQ).

We also plan to tune in to see if Brady shakes T-Rex Ryan’s hand at game’s end.

Only one factor gives us pause in the face of so much hatred: Belichick teams always do poorly against unknown, untested, and untalented young quarterbacks. Hmmm. What is that aroma brewing?

The Dumbing of America Continues…

DATELINE: Idiots, Unite!

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Nitwits, arise. You have nothing to lose but your continuing obtuseness.

You cannot have intelligent satire in a nation of imbeciles.

College degrees notwithstanding, Americans are idiots for the most part.

They revel in their anti-intellectualism and anti-science. The Taliban may want to destroy history and send us back to live in caves, but the American public hasn’t a thought about it.

They rely on the expertise of a handful of people to provide technological marvels, but they could not survive if their toys broke down. What? Go back to the days of no email? No television? How did people live like that? It’s tantamount to not having a bathroom with running water.

With knowledge all around us, people revel in their stupidity. They trust talk show hosts on radio and TV. They take crypto-science as the real truth==and see PhDs talking about Ancient Aliens on the History channel, no less.

With knowledge and the ability to find real information at one’s fingertips, the public seems saturated and has withdrawn from the learning business. Schools are now merely babysitting services for adolescents.

In 1995 an editorial at the New York Times lamented that America was turning into a land of nitwits. Twenty years later, you may find no comfort in the news. We have gone beyond Beavis and Butthead as a cartoon to real life versions all around us.

Intelligent design and intelligent satire are equally received with no challenges,

Satirists are facing a bleak future when their humor is beyond having a biting sarcastic effect.

 Henceforth, we shall make every effort to catalogue idiots, fools, nitwits, imbeciles, and in the Bugs vernacular, Maroons, in our humble blog of character assassinations.

 

Obtuse Time in America

 DATELINE: UNFUNNY NITWITS

Featured imageAmericans Try On Dunce Cap

Obuse is a word we feel compelled to apply to large numbers of Americans.

At a Trump rally, one ‘informed’ voter rose to ask a question. Now, we presume these questions are all plants. Apparently not in the Trump camp. Perhaps they will start to better control their questioners.

This nitwit rose to discuss the “Muslim” problem. We know from that tone that he has a final solution to the problem of Muslims. Whether there are innocent people out there or not.

He also prefaced his inane comments with the notion that President Obama is a Muslim, “as everyone knows.”

Hunh? Where do voters receive their information? Not from Mr. Trump who apparently did not feel the comment deserved correction. In his defense Donald Trump claimed not to hear the opening words of the question in the large hall with its bad acoustics. We suppose that is possible.

Then in Boston on the same day, the media asked the next door neighbor to Baby Doe why she never realized the poster child and the girl in the next apartment were the same dead child.

This bright light claimed that she was not among the 55 million people who saw the poster and artist rendition of Baby Doe. It was shockingly accurate to the real pictures released later in the day. It was on TV nearly daily for 85 days.

We should not be surprised that media saturation and social media dominance has left people out there living in total ignorance. Stupid is a form of obtuse. These people are too dense to hear or to see information. They have no curiosity and/or interest in what the media presents. They watch with one eye and listen without hearing.

These are registered voters. Heaven help America. Just ask that Dallas student named Ahmed what time it is.

Trump Wins a Big Endorsement

DATELINE: Birds of a Feather

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To no one’s surprise, the man with a Trump cap with the logo “Make America Great Again” in his locker has thrown his support behind presidential candidate Donald Trump. “It would be great,” said one icon about another becoming America’s next president.

Tom Brady was directly asked if he supported The Donald—one of his better golf buddies, and Brady’s answer was unequivocal. There was no suspense when it came to Tom’s loyalty.

Brady is of the mind that Trump will put a putting green on the White House lawn if he wins the election as president.

With a major debate of all Republican candidates pending on this evening, Trump will have to throw more touchdowns than Brady managed on Sunday in order to neutralize his opponents.

Brady probably feels some sympathy for the man who gave his total support during the lingering effects of the Deflategate court case this summer. As of now, Trump is about as beleaguered as a man with the media on his back, disrespect emanating from a large segment of the political spectrum, and a self-made man mantra.

Trump and Brady share many characteristics, which is probably why Trump wanted the QB to wine, dine, and marry his daughter a decade ago.

Brady continued his “aw, shucks,” demeanor by simply gushing about the memorabilia that Trump had sent him. It was something of a keepsake no matter how the political winds blow.

Brady may also be keeping an eye on Trump’s gameplan—and it may become the blueprint for Tom’s own run in the political arena sometime down the road.

The Trumping of Patton

DATELINE: REINCARNATION OF AMERICAN HEROES

 Featured imageTrump or Patton?

As cultural phenomenon go, Donald Trump seems singular.

Yet, he is in the great tradition of American iconoclasts. He is a populist with appeal to shock the staid liberals and New Puritans. In case you forgot, there was a hero of World War II with much of the same bravado. He was an entertainer who wore ivory handled six shooters on his hips and rode a tank.

We refer to the pattern-breaker, General George S. Patton.

Donald Trump may have seen him played by George C. Scott in the Oscar-winning movie of 1970. Tough guy Scott played tough guy Patton now being channeled by tough guy Trump.

Patton appalled genteel America, but boy did the soldiers love him—even if he spilled their blood with his guts.

Patton was removed from command for his waggish tongue that embarrassed politicians. He hated politicians. He even dope-slapped a soldier who seemed shell shocked and unable to go out to the front lines. The media kept looking for a soft spot to do him in. They did eventually.

It may sound like a familiar refrain as the media looks to do in Donald Trump. In the meantime, Patton who believed in reincarnation may be the new Donald.

Patton was a breath of fresh air; the Donald has yet to drive a tank. We hope he won’t as we recall how the image ruined Michael Dukakis when he ran for president. Yet, Trump would look quite natural bulldozing his way across America in a tank.

Déjà vu All Over Again for Alain Delon

DATELINE: Movies Come Alive

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That apple has not fallen far from the tree.

We loved Alain Delon in Purple Noon. Now we have the surprising treat of going back in a time machine and watching Delon start his career all over again.

Yes, it is possible when the aging Lothario of legend has a son who is now twenty-one years of age—and beginning his movie career. Alain-Fabien Delon is a Doppleganger of his father. And, curiously enough, that is the name of a short film that has stars in for director Julien Landais.

The film has all the pretentions needed to launch a male Helen of Troy.

With its baroque music and set in a hall with gilded ceilings, the younger Delon seems as home as his father amid great beauty in objets d’art.

Director Landais seems to be evoking any number of past French films from the glory days of cinema. This little two-minute drill seems to resemble Last Year at Marienbad with its hero traipsing the halls of grandeur.

Of course, the success of the short is completely dependent on the utter fascination with seeing Alain Delon again, youthful and stunning. You cannot see enough of the newcomer, and the director keeps him in tantalizing quick closeups that whet your recognition of the father.

The younger Delon speaks English, which took his father a while longer to make his American film debut. The son will take a step or two up on his father’s career by starting in English at the top of the game.

He has appeared in several supporting roles in the past few years, but Mr. DeMille can tell you he is ready for his big closeup.

Keep your eyes on Alain-Fabien Delon.

Next on the Hit List: the Buffalo Bills

DATELINE: HUMOR

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T-Rex Ryan is still plodding around New York, but his territory has moved northward to Alaska. He stopped, however, when the shuffle came to Buffalo.

As the new coach of the Bills, T-Rex will still be a constant thorn in the side of Bill Belichick, or at least two times per season.

Yes, it appears that game two of the season will be a trip up to Niagara Falls. Whether it will be a slow, slow turn to victory, inch by inch, or a cascade over the Falls, only T-Rex can tell.

Rex won his first game up in Buffalo—and already looks like he actually has players who will do what he asks and a supportive front office. Yet, he remains the quintessential man of whimsy.

When asked if he would be preparing for the Patriots, Ryan noted that he first would have a few beers before tackling the gameplan.  We would certainly note that he will need more than a few beers after the game. We hope he will not resort to cyanide. He is too valuable as comic relief.

But, we grow mean spirited. We actually like T-Rex and are happy that he has escaped from New York (the Big Apple) and can now enjoy the borderline treat of honeymooners at the Falls and a real football team.

Whether the Bills shall overtake Bill Belichick’s juggernaut, time will tell us within a week. We expect a competitive game and a few chuckles in between the infuriating smugness of T-Rex.

Let us rejoice.