Penultimate Twin Peaks

DATELINE: Down to the Finish Line

peaked

We’re going round the bend, literally, and figuratively, on the new David Lynch marathon in surreality, Twin Peaks.

For sixteen hours we have seen Dead People, People from Another Dimension, Weirdos, and maddening loose ends as well as standard plot holes. That’s the bargain with Lynch.

The recent show has started to blow up loose ends and loose characters, thankfully not waiting until ten minutes before denouement to drive the entire cast off one of the twin peaks of the title. So, Kyle MacLachlan has snapped out of his doldrum-idiot Doppleganger Dougie, and evil D.B. Cooper has dispatched his illegitimate son with electrifying alacrity.

In the meantime, Lynch has discovered a new star, Eamon Farren. Let’s hope he fares better than Dana Ashbrook or James Marshall in the next 25 years.

What more can be expected? Oh, Cooper’s assistant, long lost Diane turns out to be some kind of spirit from beyond, her connection to Dougie’s wife, Naomi Watts, now ignored in a puff of smoke and gunfire.

We saw Don Murray, formerly the leading man for Marilyn Monroe in Bus Stop, looking spry as he pushes 90 and thanked by Cooper for lending his old Hollywood fame to the tale.

There was a shoot-out in one of those foreclosed Las Vegas communities that didn’t make much sense. But, we never expect much sense.

When Cooper regains his wits, he is able to say, “I am the FBI,” with all the swagger fans of the show wanted to hear. Perhaps Sheriff Michael Ontkean will make an appearance in the final show.

Whatever will the final two-hour monstrosity of this TV Guernica give us? We know that Sherilyn Fenn has a revelation while looking in the mirror.

Twenty-five years passing will do that.

 

 

 

Advertisements

Celtics Send Cousin IT Packing to LeBronWorld

DATELINE:  $$ Talks to Celtics

 Thomas & Tom In Happier Days

Wowie Zowie, the Celtics are not letting the Patriots run for another championship without a Boston competition. We may have to renew our season tickets to the Celtics this year.

It now appears that Isaiah Thomas, Cousin IT himself, who has worked assiduously to improve the team and lure free agents to Boston, now is being sent to the glue factory in Cleveland. He became a folkhero for playing a day after his sister died–and his just reward has come in payback form.

Yes, Cleveland’s the place where both Kyrie Irving and LeBron James want to escape from more than ever.  It is tantamount to Napoleon’s exile island.

Thomas reportedly has a bad hip. As any senior citizen can tell you, a bad hip is the first indication that a nursing home in Cleveland may be on your itinerary.

Kyrie Irving will come to Green-land where Brad Stevens is the coach of choice for superstars who want to be appreciated.

Together with Gordon Hayward, we may have quite new 2007 dream team when Ray Allen and Kevin Garnett showed up and chewed up the league.

Now we understand why Danny Ainge held off on bringing Hayward to Boston for a dog and pony show. He had another big star in the wings to join in the fun. Whether another big star may be in the offing seems unlikely, but this is now the year of unexpected Trumps, and not always in bridge.

We still wonder where the big men are, as Danny keeps dispatching them to Westworld, or some other limbo.

If Kevin McHale is not coming out of retirement, perhaps we will yet see Kevin Durant in green. In the meantime, the Boston Celtics ask, “What have you done for us lately?”

 

 

 

Tom Brady’s Get-Rich Scheme

DATELINE: Co-starring Julian Edelman

 home Tom & Julie at home

The Boston Convention Center will be hosting an event on June 8 to guarantee Tom Brady will get richer quick. You will have your wallet deflated instantly.

Yes, the improbable Tony Robbins has roped in the Patriots star, and his sidekick, Julie Edelman, as guest speakers at his money-making extravaganza.

For $3000 you will receive priority check-in, which means Homeland Security will laugh at you. You will also have lunch in the Diamond Lounge, but Tom and Julie will be long-gone by then.

For $3000 you will sit in the Diamond Stage area and have a meet and greet with Tom and Julian. If you chose the $200 gold seats, you will be so far away from Tom that he couldn’t throw a pass to you with a bazooka.

This is billed as a “Systematized wealth plan.” Indeed, someone will be making big bucks off your ticket. And don’t ask for a refund. They claim you will love the event, but there are no money back guarantees. If Tom comes down with dyspepsia and misses out, so will your credit card.

How long will Tom speak? Our guess is about as long as the zeros in Tom’s bank account.

You will also receive Tony Robbins’ new book, which will be on the remainder table at Amazon in about a month.

We have learned that Julian has written a children’s book.  Beware, mom. It’s about a squirrel named Jules who collects big nuts. Most of them will be at this event.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Greasing the Skids, or Billionaire Acres

DATELINE: Money Talks

Once again we have received anonymous emails disparaging us for not showing enough respect to billionaires. We have to genuflect apparently when the names of Bill Gates or the Koch Brothers are mentioned.

We have had our conservative Goldwater roots questioned for not appreciating the men who have a cadre of lawyers to prevent them from paying too much tax.

Among those we have bitten in our rattlesnake mode, we list many sports billionaires—the new playboys of the Western world. How could we not like Patriots owner Robert ‘Don’t call me Krafty’ Kraft. Here is a man who kisses his players upon greeting, yes, literally, and they must kiss his cheek. No, the other one.

We have too often mocked John Henry as King John Henry VIII with his penchant for playing the Red Queen and offing the heads of those who speak evil.  We have been banned from Red Sox sites across the globe, lest he learn the snake in the Fenway grass, is slithering around.

We have dunned Mark Cuban, an arrogant public figure who pretends he is just like you or me. He isn’t. On this you can trust us.

We have castigated the footmen and under-butlers of the wealthy, like Roger Goodell. It is not some green-eyed monster that motivates us, but simply we cannot deny ourselves a big target that uses its privilege to be a mob variation of an under-boss.

You’d think we supported Bernie Sanders who also has made a stump speech out of singling out the super-rich. No, we think more of Donald Trump who blatantly throws his money in your face in every speech.

Billionaires, you gotta love’em. We can’t avoid avoid them.

Patriots Thumb Collective Nose at NFL Pro-Bowl

DATELINE: Read All About It!


No one wants to admit there is a giant conspiracy centering around the New England Patriots.

We don’t have to go into bugging the locker room or deflating the football to find it.

This week seven members of the team, given an honorary opportunity by the NFL, have chosen not to play in the NFL Pro-Bowl. They have kissed off  a large stipend and a free trip to Hawaii. This was turned down flat by every single Patriot player because they have integrity.

Do you think there is sour grapes here?

Do you think the teammates of Tom Brady are joining him in thumbing their noses at Roger Goodell and his goodwill, marketing games?

Players usually beg off for injury, but the entire Patriot squad has decided that Hawaiian beaches are not a panacea for what ails you.

We can’t blame the players (or Coach Belichick) for deciding that corrupt referees and a vindictive commissioner will not receive their hypocritical support.

And, that dear fans, is why no Patriots will show up at a sham game to be played the week before the Super Bowl.

Don’t be fooled by injury status, or exhaustion from a long season, or a desire to be with family as the motive here.

This is a clear cut case of sticking it in the eye of the beholder, Mr. Goodell. You are the reason the Patriots feel no desire to give you a free pass.

Wait till next season.

New England Patriots Distracted & Deflated

 

DATELINE:   Feeling pretty and stupid

During their playoff bye week, the New England Patriots kept a low profile. No one had to say “Deflate-gate,” in these parts of America.

They did not need distractions and are famous for taking the Great Hoodie’s mantra, “Do Your Job,” to the heights of Super Bowl awareness.

When your team has been decimated by injuries and your fan base is nervous with Nellie tendencies to shriek at the sight of a mouse on the sidelines, you don’t need to have bizarre antics abounding.

To that end, the Patriots kept all things small and unobtrusive, cutting any chance of media hysteria from the Boston-based scandal squad of sportswriters.

What did Belichick’s minions give us to write about? Not much.

Let’s think on it.

We feel like humming “Never on a Sunday,” that marvelous ditty from long ago before Any Given Sunday became the NFL mantra.

The Patriot coordinators were in the news for new jobs. Defensive coordinator and brainiac Matt Patricia took a quick jaunt to interview in Cleveland.

Danny Amendola found himself locked out of his carport.

Tom Brady’s underwear caused a media sensation.

Belichick took his team bowling, instead of practicing for the Chiefs.

Tom Brady announced he never drinks coffee.

Tom Brady and his wife Gisele walked into a movie theater, unannounced and plopped down to watch the NFL bashing film Concussion.

Gronk mysteriously disappeared from practice.

Bill Belichick showed up at a press conference with an inexplicable black eye.

Chandler Jones did a naked strut to the local police station in a confused state, imitating Arnold’s Terminator.

Cue the Boston Pops. We are ready for our Super Bowl Half Time Show.

“Thank heavens for little girls, for without them what would little boys do?”

We almost sound like Maurice Chevalier, singing up a storm with a wink and a leer in our voice. Ho-ho, indeed.