Saturday, December 10, 2016

Return to Scamalot.

Never cry when WBAI's begging sprees come to an end—there's always a new one around the corner. One was revved up today and it brought tears to my eyes when I heard Mimi Rosenberg (black by choice) say that our weather is wrong... it's 78 degrees, she said. Sure felt like 33. Then, remarkably, she offered for sale a twisted history "thank you gift" that is in such short supply that she will not be able to repeat the offer. Isn't that what she told us when it was really 78 degrees? Could WBAI be lying to us? Of course not!

Shrillerina Prescod also came on with a golden oldie about racism, then we heard from the Amino ladies, sounding as fresh as they always do when they want to heal you with their stuff, and Null was in the mix. Haven't heard Bates yet, if he's locked up, he surely left behind a digital trail of distorted history.

One has to wonder why Desperate Reimers thinks that this is the kind of nostalgia a remnant audience wants to hear.

Since they don't send out the "gifts" anyway, why not offer cars and Rolexes, or three nights in Nigeria? A mink dashiki?  


  1. The Winter Begathon has started a few scant weeks after the end (?) of the Fall Begathon, and I happened to listen to Amy Goodman pitching this morning. She did that thing where she starts listing neighborhoods in NYC and towns in New Jersey and in Nassau and Suffolk counties. I always wonder what the point of that is. Are people actually induced to contribute because she mentions their neighborhood or town? I find that hard to believe. Is there any other reason for Goodman's constant litany of geographical place names?

  2. That last sentence reminds me so much of the old Tubes song What Do You Want From Life. The ending part is a litany of mostly silly prizes you can have. Once upon a time, The Tubes had great lyrics parodying American culture.


  3. The term "SCAMALOT" should be reserved for the Kennedy Family.


  4. Randy Credico just said a lie. He said he can hear WBAI over the air in Albany. I used to live in ALBANY. YOU CAN'T HEAR IT THERE. You can hear it as far east as Port Jefferson and New Haven and as far north as Kingston. YOU CAN'T HERE IT IN ALBANY.


    1. I have found that even those who don't routinely lie will do so when pitching for money. They are desperately trying to sell this sow's ear as a silk purse—the silk purse it used to be until they and others of their ilk grabbed it.