I’ve loathed Trump for quite a few years — he’s the only truly Satanic President this country has ever had. But right now I hate the Bidens (Joe, Jill, Hunter) even more.

It will be a monumental tragedy when Biden-Harris lose on 11.5.24, but a part of me, a deep-down part, will be savoring a certain emotional satisfaction from this.

I’ll be muttering to Biden, “You bought this, you rotting pumpkin…your defiance and arrogance and lack of patriotism ushered in this defeat. Enjoying the moment, fucker? Your name is mud. May your reputation suffer eternally.”

The Bidens and the ugly & deranged HE commentariat chorus share the #1 spot right now…top of my hate list.

— from “Inside the GOP Effort to Make Sure Biden Is The Democratic Nominee,” reported on 7.3 by notus.org’s Ben T.N. Mause and Reese Gorman.

“Democrats Don’t Know How To Spot A Weak Hand,” posted on 7.9.24:

Here are a few supplemental remarks about Fly Me To The Moon (Sony, 7.12,) which I favorably reviewed last weekend.

(1) Colin Jost‘s cameo as Senator Cook, a conservative none-too-bright, is a little embarassing. He only has a couple of lines, for one thing, and you can barely see him — he’s mostly covered in shadows. Jost is married to Scarlett Johansson, the film’s star and senior producer, and they couldn’t give him, say, six or seven lines?…a well-lighted scene with a little back-and-forth repartee? It’s humiliating, man — grounds for divorce.

(2) Ray Romano plays an upper-level NASA administrator named Henry Smalls…fine. But why is he wearing a ten-day growth of beard? NASA bigwigs were total straight-arrows, for one thing, and nobody in 1969 walked around with the Miami Vice Don Johnson short-beard look. That shit didn’t begin until the mid to late ’80s.

(3) Early on there’s a magnificent nighttime shot of a couple of Cape Canaveral launch towers a mile or so away, glowing with amber light. Congrats to dp Dariusz Wolski.

(4) Despite the protests of some delusional HE commentariat lunatics, Todd Douglas Miller‘s Apollo 11 showed without a shadow of a doubt that obesity was mostly non-existent in 1969. And yet Fly Me To The Moon includes two insert shots of a beefy. bordering-on-fat TV reporter going on about the atmosphere of excitement at Cape Canaveral, etc. There aren’t any galumphy, sea-lion-sized TV reporters now, and there sure as shit weren’t any 55 years ago.

(5) Woody Harrelson‘s Moe Berkus, a governmental “bad” guy, insists that fake moon landing footage should be captured in case the Apollo 11 mission goes wrong. Fine, but why is it important to shoot this footage live, or concurrent with the actual moon landing and exploration? They could have shot it a few days before and nobody would be the wiser. It makes no practical sense.

(6) Channing Tatum‘s Cole Davis is a total drag to be around. He stops the film in its tracks every time he says a line.

(7) And by the way, Tatum is now 44, and a recent promotional interview he did with Johansson shows he’s clearly going bald. He could fix this shit right away by going to Prague — his middle-aged years have only just begun! — but of course he won’t because he’s too cool for school.

If Barack Obama, Bill Clinton, Chuck Schumer, Hakeem Jeffries and Nancy Pelosi don’t stand up and insist to Joe Biden that he needs to fold his tent and release his delegates, their reputations will be soiled beyond repair. A chance to stop The Beast was put before them and they wimped out? History will not forgive them.

“Biden Won’t Win — The Democrats Need a Plan — Here’s One” — James Carville, N.Y. Times, 7.8.24:

“Mark my words: Joe Biden is going to be out of the 2024 presidential race. Whether he is ready to admit it or not. His pleas on Monday to congressional Democrats for support will not unite the party behind him. Mr. Biden says he’s staying in the race, but it’s only a matter of time before Democratic pressure and public and private polling lead him to exit the race. The jig is up, and the sooner Mr. Biden and Democratic leaders accept this, the better. We need to move forward.

“But it can’t be by anointing Vice President Kamala Harris or anyone else as the presumptive Democratic nominee. We’ve got to do it out in the open — the exact opposite of what Donald Trump wants us to do.

“I want to see the Democratic Party hold four historic town halls between now and the Democratic National Convention in August — one each in the South, the Northeast, the Midwest and the West.

“We can recruit the two most obvious and qualified people in the world to facilitate substantive discussions: Barack Obama and Bill Clinton. They may not represent every faction under our party’s big tent. But they care as much about our democracy as our nation’s first president, they understand what it takes to be president, and they know how to win.”

From N.Y Times 7.8 editorial — “The Democratic Party Must Speak the Plain Truth to the President

“For those at the helm of the Democratic Party — including the Senate majority leader, Chuck Schumer; the House minority leader, Hakeem Jeffries; and even the former House speaker Nancy Pelosi — the time has arrived to speak forcefully to the president and the public about the need for a new candidate, before time runs out for other candidates to make their case to the party’s convention delegates.

“These Democratic leaders know that the presidency is not a day job, and Mr. Biden needs to hear from them and others that the security of and stakes for America are too high to continue to move forward with Mr. Biden as the nominee.

“If their reticence up to now was partly a show of respect and partly a calculation that Mr. Biden would be more receptive to private counsel than to public criticism, it is increasingly clear that the president is unwilling to accept the reality of his situation. He is engaging in a staring contest with Democratic leaders, and he appears to be winning. The only way to persuade Mr. Biden to accept the need for new leadership is to demonstrate that the party is no longer following him.

“The 2024 presidential election is not a contest between two men, or even between two political parties. It is a battle for who we are as a nation.

“President Biden clearly understands the stakes. But he seems to have lost track of his own role in this national drama. As the situation has become more dire, he has come to regard himself as indispensable. He does not seem to understand that he is now the problem — and that the best hope for Democrats to retain the White House is for him to step aside.”

…I’d be super-down for this…Denzel throws dust into the eyes of a charging rhino!…some other actor (Chris Walken?) saying to 20-years-younger Denzel “you shall be my instrument.” That I could easily go for. That I would delight in.

But I can’t invest in a gladiator flick film starring Paul “weepy dad + milky complexion + greasy whiskers” Mescal. He’s too vulnerable, too meditative, too watery-eyed. Not my kind of alpha male. 24 years ago Russell Crowe had that X-factor, coiled-tension, charging-bull quality, and Mescal is supposed to be his son? Not buying it. Outside of the deranged HE commentariat trolls, relatively few are.

If Ridley had gone with a real man, fine. But the tearful, melancholy, too-quick-to-smile father from Afterburn? Forget it. He’s not good-looking enough. His jaw is too pointy, too Margaret Hamilton.

There’s no trusting a trailer, of course, but I’m sensing that the overall tone of Gladiator II is on the porno-violent side…overly emphasized…more blood, more severed limbs, more howling rage, etc. But at least there’s no more herky-jerky cinematography.

I won’t be seeing Osgood Perkins‘ Longlegs until early Thursday evening…best I can do.

The first Osgood Perkins was, as we all know, a highly regarded stage actor who died in 1937 at age 45. He was the father of the late, great Anthony Perkins, who was born in 1932 and died in ’92. The current Osgood is the son of Anthony and Berry Berenson — the latter was killed on 9.11.01 when her flight, American Airlines #11, slammed into the north tower of the World Trade Center.

55 years ago Andy Warhol and Paul Morrissey‘s Lonesome Cowboys goofed on the idea of Manhattan gay guys pretending be buckskin buckaroos. It was a silly, sloppy mess but amusing here and there. Or so I thought when I caught it in Los Angeles way back when.

To go by SXSW reviews Luke Gilford’s
National Anthem is a sincere love story about Charlie Plummer‘s Dylan, a straight young guy, falling in love with a trans rodeo performer named Sky, played by Eve Lindley.

I haven’t seen the newbie, and I’m not sure that I need to.

In a nutshell, Steve Schmnidt’s 7.8.24 essay — “We Are Running Out of Time” — says that we really, really don’t have much time left to stop a catastrophe.

Transcript: “Where is the mighty voice of the Democratic party asserting Americanism? It’s absent, it’s a whisper, it can’t be heard and this is the tragedy. Democracy is collapsing, not because it’s not good but it’s become weak and corrupt, and because fascism is rising in its place as it did almost 100 years ago.

“This is an extraordinary moment, a dangerous one. The leaders of the Democratic party have deluded themselves, lied to themselves, engaged in a game of pretend. They looked away, they wished away what was clearly in front of their eyes and here’s the deal — life does not permit such things, it always catches up.

“This moment requires leadership, patriotism, conviction…it requires on the part of Joe Biden an act of humility, an act of patriotism.

“We should appreciate what we’re witnessing. We don’t have much time left to stop it. In fact there are only 42 days until the Democrats [nominate Joe Biden and in so doing] give away the country to Project 2025 and to Donald Trump and [only a few weeks later] Donald Trump will wait somewhere in a hotel suite, perhaps at Mar a Lago, waiting as the seconds tick down until the networks are ready to make their projections. The difference is that in 2016 the world was surprised, [and] in 2020 we we all saw it happen and knew it was over for Trump. But this time Trump is winning and there won’t be a surprise when ABC News and NBC News and CBS News and CNN and Fox all say the words ‘Donald John Trump, the 45th president of the United States, is tonight the president-elect of the United States.’

“It will be a moment of immense tragedy…a tragedy that could be seen as far off as any that has ever been able to be seen for it and we will have watched it come down the tracks at us, from the moment the light was just a little pin prick peeking out in the dark until it ran over everything. What a shameful moment for the country, for the media, and for the Democratic party…what a terrible low moment.

“But [our path] can be redeemed. There must be another road taken and what that road rejects is self-interest…what that road rejects is power for the sake of power…what it embraces is duty and honor and sacrifice. It is the American Road and down that road awaits a brilliant legacy for the 46th president of the United States, and on the road not taken something terrible awaits…not just defeat but an eradication of everything that Joe Biden has done. Because the only memory that will remain, the only indentation in the sand that will persist is a legacy of losing to Trump.”

Honest HE rewrite under the eyes of a watchful God: “I can respond to all this by saying clearly and unequivocally: Because my obvious cognitive decline has become the central focus of the ongoing 2024 Presidential campaign (even though Donald Trump‘s authoritarian and fascistic views about presidential power, recently fortified by the Supreme Court, are far more threatening in a general sense), I am all but certain to lose both the popular and electoral vote counts on 11.5.24.

“In short, I am finished. My goose is cooked. But I am determined to run nonetheless because my life-of-Joe-Biden saga has always been about persistence, tenacity and never giving up.

“Will tens of millions of Americans suffer and howl and stamp their feet when Trump is re-elected? Will American democracy as we’ve known it take a spear wound or two and perhaps worse? Almost certainly. But as I said to George Stephanopoulos the other night, what matters in the end is how I feel and whether I’ve fought my best fight.

“’As long as I gave it my all,’ I said to George, ‘and did the best job I know I can do — that’s what this is about.’

“Translation: If the United States of America has to go down with me, so be it.

“So as your president and as a staunch fellow Democrat, don’t fret about Trump’s coming victory. What matters the most is how I, Joe Biden, feel about myself, and how Dr. Jill Biden feels about me and how my eternally disreputable, formerly addicted son feels about me, and how obstinate and mule-headed I’m willing to be. And as your president, trust me, I am more of a mule than Francis! (Go ahead — ask Donald O’Connor. No, wait, he died 20 years ago.)

“My Irish feet, trust me, are set in cement, and Biden cement doesn’t crack.”

After I began to think and write about Charlotte Wells’ listless Aftersun, which I saw in Cannes in ‘22 and will never see again, I discovered I was having difficulty remembering the name of Paul Mescal, who played the weepy dad.

It wasn’t just that I felt an instant animal dislike for this 20something Irish actor, but something about his last name just wouldn’t stay in my brain. It didn’t sound Irish, for one thing. Too mushy. So I decided upon a word association technique. I thought of him as a form of human mescaline (i.e., disorienting) and it worked. I simply decided that this watery-eyed sedative of an actor was the Carlos Castaneda mescalito guy, even though there was nothing the least bit trippy about him.

Problem solved.