The Whiteman family
Thanksgiving 1986, Dave Whiteman awakes in his Beverly Hills home, and minutes later is drenched by his sprinkler system suddenly malfunctioning while he goes to get the morning paper.
Nick Nolte awakes in a different location, with different problems.
I really wasn’t hoping to see Nick Nolte’s ass today for any reason actually.
B4B – NY Times Feb ‘09
Bush’s Exit Leaves Satire at Wit’s End
By CLYDE HABERMAN
Published: February 16, 2009
You’ve already heard more than enough about collapsed stock portfolios, vanished fortunes, disappearing jobs and consumer confidence that is fading faster than the Knicks’ playoff hopes. Let’s focus instead on a different crisis. What do you do when your raison d’être starts looking more like a raisin d’être — kind of shriveled?
If you’ve asked yourself that very question, then you know what life is like these days for a band of political satirists who have gone by the name of Billionaires for Bush.
For most of this decade, they sallied forth in tuxedos and tiaras for street theatrics about protecting developers from predator environmentalists and shielding the wealthy from money-crazed politicians who would have them pay more taxes. For some in the group, the holiday observed on Monday was known as Buy Your Own President’s Day.
They were getting along just fine, these Billionaires were, when a terrible thing happened.
George W. Bush left office.
It’s hard to be a Billionaire for Bush when there is no Bush. The group might have recast itself as Billionaires for Obama. But that would have required “irony we can believe in,” said Andrew Boyd, who sometimes goes by his Billionaire name, Phil T. Rich.
“Here’s the conundrum,” Mr. Boyd said. “Can you point out that the emperor has no clothes when you like the emperor — and his clothes?”
We told you this was a crisis.
Not that it’s entirely new. Satirists have struggled with the ascension of Barack Obama for a while now. Clearly, some white comedians are pulling their punches out of fear of being accused of racial insensitivity (though racial equality should mean that a black president may be skewered as thoroughly as a white one). Race aside, many comics feel that any new president deserves to be cut some slack. As an added inhibitor, some have said, this president is simply not his predecessor.
“He’s difficult to satirize,” Mr. Boyd said. “He’s very self-aware. He calls himself out on stuff. He’s able to leaven his own heaviness.” Self-awareness, Mr. Boyd said, was not a conspicuous trait of the previous president.
It should be noted that the Billionaires are not exactly equal opportunity offenders. Their politics fall squarely left of center. But unlike many activists, left or right, their weapon of choice is a rapier rather than a sledgehammer. In their reverse world, Vice President Dick Cheney was unfairly attacked and Halliburton wrongly maligned. Big Oil works for the common good, and streets must be liberated from destructive bicyclists.
“Bicycling is a gateway drug to environmentalism,” said Paul Bartlett, or Robin Eublind in Billionaire-speak.
The group tried switching focus as the Bush presidency’s days dwindled down. Some ventured forth as Billionaires for Bailouts. Others threw their support behind Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg by forming Billionaires for Term Limits Except for Billionaires.
But it wasn’t the same. The Champagne had lost its fizz.
“I think we were serious about having our brand lose its brand identity,” said Elissa Jiji or, if you prefer, Meg A. Bucks. Mr. Bartlett observed that “it’s not the time for ostentatious wealth.” Even though there are still plenty of potential targets — Bernard L. Madoff and bonus-hungry Wall Street executives, for example — there seems little point going after them when others are, too.
“They’re no longer held in such esteem that they need to be knocked down,” Mr. Boyd said.
For now, the Billionaires have chosen to put away their gowns, toss aside their top hats and leave their badminton rackets in the closet. Soon after the Obama inauguration, a few dozen of them met at a Greenwich Village bar for what Ms. Jiji described as “a last huzzah.” She had “thought we’d be sad,” she said, “but it was very festive.” Mr. Boyd called it a “farewell to arms contracts.”
But bear in mind that “Billionaires never die,” he said. “We just refinance.”
So they may be back. They could be like Tom Joad in reverse. If there’s a rich man being wrongly hassled by a tax collector, they’ll be there. If there’s a war profiteer unfairly condemned in the press, they’ll be there.
Look on the bright side, they said. It probably costs less than before to bribe corrupt public officials.
What they’re missing, though, are tunes to capture the mood. You have to give the Depression this much: It produced some great numbers. Mr. Boyd suggested reworking a classic from that era. This one would be called “Brother, Can You Spare a Diamond?”
E-mail: haberman@nytimes.com
Sofa #2
I am the heaven
I am the water
I am the dirt beneath your rollers
I am your secret smut & lost metal money
Down your cracks
I am your cracks & crannies
I am the clouds
I am embroidered
I am the author of all tucks & damask piping
I am the chrome dinette
I am the chrome dinette
I am the eggs of all persuasion
I am all days & nights
I am all days & nights
I am all days & nights
I am all days & nights
I am here
And you are my sofa
I am here
And you are my sofa
I am here
And you are my sofa
Chrysalis
Chris Ellis is so awesome. He is just the nicest person and has the best intentions, we can only hope he survives exposure to all those beautiful models with his brain intact. He lent me the computer I used at home for months, set me up with smokes and all sorts of handy stuff. He scattered when I got busy during the holidays and I felt bad about that, but he stayed busy.
He just came back from D.C. where he took some new pictures.
Seriously, Pat Buchanan? What?
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