Hot Air: Yak, Yak, Yak

Did you learn anything last night?

Wait, lemme answer that. No, you didn’t.

The debate between the the major party candidates for the presidency was nothing more than disposable entertainment. Monitoring soc. med., I found the most important revelation to emerge from the hour-and-a-half pissing match was the certainty that D. Trump is a cocaine addict.

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Obsessive Sniffler & Water Gulper

At least that’s what the yodelers in my particular echo chamber were singing.

Is it any wonder why I refuse to watch candidate debates?

People say, Yeah, but what about Lincoln/Douglas?

To which I reply the L/D tugs of words actually served an important purpose in those pre-mass media days. With no TV, radio or internet, and with a very few citizens actually being able to read newspapers, the two major party candidate for United States Senator from Illinois had to do a grand tour of their state in order for at least some hundreds or thousands of voters to be able to ascertain what in the hell they were running for.

Today we can view photos of the insides of a candidate’s bowels if she or he’d recently had a colonoscopy (that is, except for D. Trump — then again, he proudly but inadvertently displays offal views of himself every time he steps before a camera but, y’know.) We’re familiar with pretty much every single solitary thing there is to know about where a candidate stands including, in Hillary’s case, what her recipe for oatmeal-chocolate chip cookies is — or was.

And, BTW, here’s the horribly offensive quote that led to Hillary, a quarter of a century ago, demeaning herself before those noted political scientists, the editors of Family Circle magazine:

I suppose I could have stayed home and baked cookies and had teas, but what I decided to do was to fulfill my profession, which I entered before my husband was in public life.

I like that Hillary one hell of a lot more than the one who eventually genuflected before the Fam. Circ. brain trust and the mag’s huffy readers who saw her stance as an unforgivable insult to them.

In any case, we know everything we need to know plus ten times that amount of info we have no business knowing regarding anyone and everyone who’s running for president.

So, I saved myself a lot of stomach-churning and blood pressure spikes by not watching the debate and — guess what — I still know just as much as you do about D. Trump and Hillary.

[Big Mike note: Just in case you need it, here’s the New York Times transcript of last night’s prate orgy.]

Big Talk

I had IU Eskanazi Art Museum director David Brenneman in the WFHB studios yesterday afternoon, taping this week’s edition of Big Talk and, I’ll tell you, I’ve haven’t met a more effusive, happy-to-be-here kind of guy in more decades than I care to remember. Basically, the dude’s just thrilled to pieces to be alive.

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This Week’s Big Talker: David Brenneman

The interview was a rollick and the only negative thing about it is I have to edit it down from 45 minutes to eight. Big Talk is a regular Thursday feature on WFHB’s Daily Local News. As always, go to The Pencil’s Big Talk page for past editions as well as the almost-unedited, nearly-full-length recordings of the original interviews. And this week, I’ll be running the first in a new weekly series of written interviews with my radio guests on Limestone Post online magazine. Stayed tuned for links as they become available.

Talk To Ya Later

The ’80s and L.A. — what a simultaneously terrifying and alluring combination. The Tubes, natch.

 

One thought on “Hot Air: Yak, Yak, Yak

  1. Such a good point, Mike. No wonder I was falling asleep during the debates; I was so bored once we stopped making fun of Donald’s tell-tale cocaine sniffing.

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