It’s definitely worth your time to watch “Hail to the Trump,” Vanity Fair’s darkly funny Team America-esque glimpse of what a Donald Trump presidency might be like, performed by marionettes.
Produced and directed by Condé Nast’s Rachel Samuels and written by longtime Vanity Fair editor Bruce Handy, the marionettes were operated by a fellow named Scott Land. The first episode debuted on YouTube on November 9th with the latest installment coming out today.
I like how they parachuted into this with an outgoing President Barack Obama welcoming President-elect Trump to the Oval Office. It’s even more of a satiric gut-kick picturing Obama, of all people, having to play nice with the short-fingered vulgarian “birther” billionaire before his swearing in, because you know damned well Trump probably would act just like this.
After the jump, President Trump gets into a Twitter-war with the Kardashians and HATES his Secret Service code name…
Earlier this year Sen. David Vitter (R-LA) made a fucking idiotic attempt at “humor” by tweeting that it was a “Chick-fil-A kind of day” after the Supreme Court’s ruling on same sex marriage. Louisiana, if you go from Bobby Jindal to this goddamn fool, you’ll have gone from utterly terrible to someone far, far worse. Don’t do it.
During Tuesday night’s Louisiana gubernatorial debate, Sen. David Vitter, the GOP candidate criticized his Democratic opponent John Bel Edwards—an Army Ranger—for releasing a “vicious, negative” political ad that Vitter contended, was offensive to veterans.
Louisiana gubernatorial candidate John Bel Edwards (D) didn’t need to utter the word “prostitution” for viewers of Tuesday night’s debate to understand that he was hitting Sen. David Vitter (R-LA) over his involvement in the 2007 “D.C. Madam” scandal.
“Hundreds of veterans have contacted me,” Edwards said, “and they wanted to know that you were missing out on your public performance of your duties in Congress in order to engage in those extracurricular activities that you don’t want to admit to.”
Vitter had just criticized Edwards, a state representative, for releasing a “vicious negative ad” that he said offended veterans. The ad was released last week and juxtaposed Edwards’ service as an Army Ranger with the claim that Vitter “answered a prostitute’s call minutes after he skipped a vote honoring 28 soldiers who gave their lives in defense of our freedom.”
“David Vitter chose prostitutes over patriots,” the ad’s narrator intoned. “Now, the choice is yours.”
Vitter must not have seen the same ad I saw because frankly I can’t imagine even a single vet being offended by Edwards’ ad. I can quite easily see them being highly offended by Vitter’s shenanigans, but not so much at Edwards for pointing that out so… well, viciously and negatively. I mean how do you gingerly mention that your political opponent has a hooker problem? And why would you care to downplay it or tiptoe around it?
The amazing thing, to my mind, is that Vitter has never really had to answer to this… er… shit before. Being a proud “family values” Southern Republican, naturally Vitter professed “regret” for his “very serious sin” (actually crimes in both Louisiana and Washington) in a 2007 press conference with his wife beside him and I guess Baby Jesus just up and hosed all of that sin right off ‘im. He’s apparently Teflon-coated, because over the years Vitter has paid very little political price—as in nothing whatsoever—for his very public prostitution scandal. The Democrats have tried, oh how they have tried, but nothing ever really stuck to the Senator like a poop-filled diaper should.
I thought I’d seen a few vicious political ads in my day, but this one is unique. Watch “The Choice” below:
After the jump, a previous attempt to get the word out to Louisiana voters about David Vitter’s “messy” prostitution scandal from 2010
Our Philadelphian readers may know PYT, home of insanely gimmicky culinary constructions like the Deep-Fried Twinkie Burger, Chicken Bacon Eggo Sliders, and the Cocoa Krispies Chicken Burger. That restaurant has expanded to New York, specifically to 334 Bowery, former home of one location of Forcella Pizzeria, and more recently, the extremely short-lived Espoleta. Though rents in the city’s one-time Skid Row are no longer Skid Row cheap, PYT surely has no desire to be yet another bygone in that location, and they may have hit upon their rent-making gimmick: The Basquiat Prime Beef Burger, named for the great painter Jean-Michel Basquiat and priced at $64. Each. Look, I’m a total sucker for gimmicky sandwich places; whether it’s Kuma’s in Chicago, Melt in Cleveland, whatever, I’m all in for ridiculous shit like that. But I doubt I need to belabor the point that $64 for a burger seems beyond excessive even for Manhattan.
A 1982 Basquiat work, Untitled (The Black Athlete), just sold for 6.3 million, meaning that the Basiquiat burger is just a buck off from being 100,000 times less expensive than an actual Basquiat painting. And arguably, the figure in the painting could be interpreted as triumphantly brandishing a burger. Arguably. Very, very arguably.
But what do you get for your money? Per the restaurant’s tumblr, it’s made with “100% fresh 25% fat Wagyu Ribeye sourced from the NYC’s greatest Wagyu source, the ninjas at Japan Premium Beef.” OK, then, in that case I suppose we’ll generously take it on faith that that tastes $50 better than a regular upscale burger. The sandwich came to be named for the painter, not because it looks like his work, after the manner of the offerings at SFMOMA’s rooftop coffee bar—though I’d actually respect the hell out of that, and I find it curious that photos of the actual burger seem like they’re nowhere to be found online. (How is it possible that nobody’s Instagramed their $64 burger?) The sandwich is so named because the painter died of a heroin overdose literally around the corner on Great Jones Street. If any DM readers in Lower Manhattan are feeling lavish enough to take this one for the team and try one, we’d love to know if it’s worth the money, or at least if it’s a fit tribute to the artist. We’re guessing no way in hell on both counts, but we’re willing to listen.
Kathleen Tonn, a failed, former Republican U.S. Senate candidate who gained infamy briefly for displaying her “gift” of speaking in tongues, decided to wave a tampon around as she addressed city officials in Anchorage, Alaska, last night in a nonsensical anti-gay rights rant. Tonn carried a briefcase full of props into to the meeting of the Anchorage assembly. She pulled a Bible from her case and said “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. You like my trumpet? It’s a sound heard around the world.”
“Since one of my brethren introduced the King James Bible, since I represent the Lord Jesus Christ the great I am, I’m going to add to your public document and your public record from the public document of the great I am,” Tonn told baffled officials.
“Starting with, oh my — a tampon,” she said, pulling a feminine hygiene product from between the pages of her Bible. “Reminds me that little girls in pubescence get periods — female girls.”
Tonn, who is probably best known for a video she posted online showing herself fully clothed and speaking in tongues in a sauna, then angrily read a lengthy passage from the Second Epistle of Peter describing God’s wrathful judgment against Sodom and Gomorrah.
“Now, since you want to create some ordinance to avoid discrimination for members of our community who engage in, I perceive, unhealthy, ungodly behavior, you might want to consider creating an ordinance for one who speaks in tongues.”
Or perhaps summoning a van where people wearing all white uniforms bring you a nice comfy straightjacket and forcibly medicate you?
Dick Traini, the assembly chairman finally said “Ma’am, your time is up. Thank you for your testimony.”
How long will it take—how many decades, how many more centuries if we’re really unlucky—before the Christianity virus just completely and utterly burns itself out? At what point will there just simply be no more use for it and we’ll all just give up the (holy) ghost once and for all, call it a day AND MOVE ON?
I don’t have a prediction to make about that—Voltaire, who died in 1778, once wrote that he thought religion would die out in twenty years time—but I can say with some assurance (and even gratitude!) that idiot Palm Springs-based televangelist Joshua Mills is doing his very best to make people shake their heads in DISBELIEF and walk out of the church, hopefully never to return. Mills has claimed in the past that God can whiten teeth better than dentists and remove wrinkles better than Botox.
Here on the Internet talk show, It’s Supernatural with Sid Roth, Mills relates the story of how God covered him in glitter in an elevator in Toronto. Three onlookers in the elevator were saved before the doors even opened again. But best of all, they reenact this “anointing”! Hilarity ensues! Sid makes George Noory seem skeptical and it’s too bad that they didn’t have Mills play himself, that was really a missed opportunity if you ask me.
Everything that’s bleak about the modern world is wrapped-up like a perfect, little package with these illustrations by London-based artist and animator, Steve Cutts. Rampant consumerism. Shitty jobs. Environmental devastation. Disinformation. Nonsense. Billionaire psychopaths. Overcrowded cities—all present and accounted for. We’ve featured Cutts’ work here on DM before with his dark animation about the current lives of ‘80s cartoon characters.
If a picture paints a thousand words, these pieces are Molotov cocktails for the mind.
There’s a metalhead in the jury box of the Aurora mass shooting trial and the news is on it!
Colorado’s News 9 reports that an alternate juror in the mass murder trial against James Holmes wore a Metallica Ride The Lightning t-shirt which may have been in violation of a court order banning display of clothing which may influence the jury.
Neither the judge nor lawyers appeared to notice the shirt worn by juror 983, which features bolts of lightning hitting an empty electric chair on the front and the skeletal remains of a prisoner being electrocuted on the back side.
Judge Carlos Samour has “strictly prohibited” from his courtroom the “display of insignias, symbols, pictures, clothing, or any other items that may influence the jury” in an order that appears on a laminated placard in front of every spectator seat in court.
Since the matter was never brought up on the record Thursday, we don’t know whether the judge would have found the attire in violation of his order.
On Thursday, the 12 deliberating jurors delivered a verdict on aggravating factors, the first of three possible phases in the death penalty sentencing hearing.
Juror 983, who has sported heavy-metal themed tees in court before, is not on the panel of 12, but could be called on to deliberate if a juror should be excused for any reason.
The Metallica track “Ride The Lightning” is written from the point of view of a prisoner awaiting death by electrocution. According to James Hetfield, the song “was not a criticism of capital punishment, which I’m actually a supporter of. Rather, it’s simply about a man who faces death in the electric chair for a crime he didn’t commit.”
We’re guessing Juror 983 didn’t put that much thought into it.
Donald Trump’s anti-Mexican comments have made him few (no?) friends in America’s Hispanic community. In fact, I think it’s fair to say that other than a few Fox News-watching racist Republican trolls, his (unfounded) remarks seem low, vile and ridiculous to just about everyone. He’s a silly, grotesque man, full of himself and… he’s just a shithead. Fuck Donald Trump.
No… fuck his hair.
5 Rabbit Cerveceria is a Chicago-area microbrewery that had been supplying the signature beer for the ritzy Rebar in Chicago’s Trump Tower. The owners are Latino and have decided to sever ties with the loathsome billionaire. Now the Trump brew they had left over has been renamed “Chinga Tu Pelo”—which translates as “Fuck your hair”—in honor of the GOP Presidential and loudmouthed comb-over casualty.
5 Rabbit Cerveceria co-owner Andres Araya told WBEZ radio:
“We would be doing an injustice to the community we serve (and live in) by engaging in business with someone who does not accept our role in society and expresses a rhetoric of hate and ignorance towards us,” Araya wrote in a statement to WBEZ Monday.
“On a personal level, if I did, one of the things that scares me the most is sending the wrong message to my daughters. We are active members of this immigrant community and we need to stand up for ourselves, and more importantly, for those who do not have the voice or means to do so. The very foundation of the United States of America was built on acceptance and inclusion. That is what drew us here, and that´s what why we feel so strongly about this.”
“As a company, an integral part of our vision reads that we are ‘not only based in, but also look to promote a strong and positive image of Latin America, its heritage and people.’
It would be hypocritical of us to sustain the relationship.”
Right on! Chinga that moron’s pelo!
The giant mattress company Serta yesterday announced that it too would be severing ties with the GOP’s lumbering, out of control Frankenstein monster. Recently NBC and Univision both dumped their ties with the toxic Trump brand.
This self-immolation—Trump’s moronic inferno—is spectacular to watch, but I DO hope the thick-fingered vulgarian makes it to the first Republican debate in August and beyond. Look at how much damage he’s done to himself in such a short time and just imagine what he can do for the GOP!
Students of Internet culture know all about “Rule 34.” Rule 34 is an adage which asserts that “if something exists, there is porn of it.”
We can now add Charles Manson and his “family” to the list of things we didn’t expect to see given the porn treatment, but HERE WE ARE.
Adult Video News recently reported on the release of Manson Family XXX, an adult film directed by Will Ryder.
A TMZ report from last year reveals that Sharon Tate’s sister, Debra Tate, called Manson Family XXX “the lowest of lows” and vowed to sue the producers if they dared use Sharon’s name or likeness. As the film falls under the umbrella of “parody,” it is protected speech. Tasteless, but nevertheless protected.
Director Will Ryder stated, “The timing couldn’t be more perfect and we’ve had to put the brakes on this release for a while now due to certain legal challenges that I don’t want to talk about, but NBC is paving the way for us to have a summer blockbuster,” referring to NBC’s recently-premiered Aquarius, a “historical fiction” program based on the events surrounding the Manson Family.
Director, Ryder, claims his film explores “hippie love and intense sexual acts that took place at the Spahn Ranch near Los Angeles back in the late 1960s.”
“We actually shot much of our movie on that very land,” Ryder said.
Ryder added that his movie is a parody and “not sponsored, endorsed or affiliated with Charles Manson or any members of the Manson Family, the victims, the LAPD, Vincent Bugliosi or the Los Angeles district attorney’s office, NBC Universal or any distributors, actors, producers, writers, publishers, their estates or assignees.”
Best to cover your bases.
We have to admit, the scenes in the trailer seem like they could kinda be historically accurate. Group sex and heavy drug use were undoubtedly facts of “family life” on the Spahn Ranch.
Ryder seems to have at least convinced himself that his parody porn is a tasteful historical document of the Family:
I have to make myself clear that I am in no way glorifying murder and neither is NBC Television or any of the other mainstream production companies that are in production on Manson related projects.
We are telling parts of the Manson Family folklore just like the writers and producers of dozens of books, movies and television documentaries have told over the years. We’re just going to see them completely naked participating in all kinds of sexual exploration including wild animalistic group sex.
Here’s the pretty-much-safe-for-work trailer for “Manson Family XXX”:
I hate these shoes. I mean, I really hate them. I know it’s totally irrational—not to mention a big ole waste of time—to homicidally hate on these specific shoes with such venom, but just look at these fucking things and tell me you don’t feel the same way? Why? Why? And WHY?
Perhaps I’m in the minority here and you, dear Dangerous Minds reader, simply must have a pair. Scotty Franklin of Springfield, Missouri, customizes people’s personal boots and turns them into, er, these for $50. Fuck you, Scotty.