Ditto for the Jon Stewart hagiography machine. The satirist for the ages is currently vying with Trump, that other satirist for the ages, for this week's Greatest Clicks award.
In other news (not that you'd know that there was any other news):
The New York Times dog-whistles the accusation that President Obama is a dog-whistling anti-Semite for daring to criticize Aipac's multimillion dollar ad campaign to squelch the Iran nuclear deal. Writes Julie Hirschfeld Davis,
Well, that's all good then. Israel and the USA are members of the same family, just as the American economy family and the American government family are just like your family. (Whenever a politician or operative uses the word "family," you can be very sure that something nasty is afoot.)Mr. Obama’s advisers strongly disputed the suggestion that he used coded language to single out Aipac when he said in his American University speech that “many of the same people who argued for the war in Iraq are now making the case against the Iran nuclear deal.”“This has nothing to do with anybody’s identity; this is a policy difference about the Iranian nuclear program,” said Benjamin J. Rhodes, the deputy national security adviser for strategic communications. “We don’t see this as us versus them,” Mr. Rhodes added, predicting that the White House and Aipac would work closely in the future on other matters, including Israeli security. “This is a family argument, not a permanent rupture.”
The Times unquestioningly accepted Aipac's denial that it is funding the mammoth PR blitz against the Iran deal, even though it has been proven the pro-Israel government lobby is behind the effort. I got a call a month or so ago from this lobby, called Citizens For a Nuclear Free Iran. The woman haltingly and ineptly reading from her script claimed she had a direct open line to somebody she hilariously called "Senator Chuck" (she meant Schumer) and insisted she connect me to him immediately so I could personally voice my terror, outrage and confusion. I hung up on her, but now wish I hadn't, if only to find out whether she did, in fact, have direct access to Senator Chuck. Because every time I try to call him -- say, on the TPP -- his mailbox is mysteriously full.
Speaking of phone calls, it has now reached the point where my home phone has become an instrument of torture, payable by me. Every other call I get is from "Bridget from Card Services," or some guy claiming that my Windows system is a mess, but if I will just give him all my passwords, he can fix it for me remotely. I tell him I prefer to wash my own windows with a weak ammonia solution, thank you, and then I hang up. That "Do Not Call" registry is a joke. So is the app claiming to be able to block robo-calls.
The latest monthly jobs report reveals that the Precariat is still teetering, "solid and steady," on the brink of destitution. This disaster of crappy pay, part-time jobs and temporary gigs is a big fat bore, as far as the Times is concerned. But I bet they are not half as bored as the youth of America. Nearly half the teenagers who went looking for a job this summer were unable to find one. The number of unemployed people aged 16-24 increased by a staggering 2.1 million in just the last quarter. All the old people are stealing the sub-minimum wage/commission- only phone solicitation jobs.
For those lucky enough to have a real job, the latest thing is for your boss to plant a microchip under your skin to make sure you're not playing Solitaire on his dime, or otherwise goofing off, even on your own time. This is also being done, supposedly, to track your "wellness," because your health is of the utmost importance to them. It is estimated that by next year, most major corporations will fit workers out with "fitness trackers." At Amazon, warehouse workers are already monitored by GPS before they're stopped and frisked -- on their own dime -- upon leaving the workplace.
For those lucky enough not to have Big Brother for a boss, there is always entrepreneurship. Some unknown bootstrapper out there in Washington DC exerted some good old-fashioned American can-doism by paintballing the American war thug presidents in their alleged balls.
If thuggery doesn't do it for you, maybe the Postmodern Incestuous Industrial Complex will: