Instead of Accountability, Committees and Investigations

August 6, 2021

By Karen

So we have yet another example of yet another powerful politician — New York Governor Andrew Cuomo — investigated by the state’s attorney general and found to have “violated federal and state” laws against sexual harassment.

Cuomo denies all of it and remains governor while the state legislature conducts ANOTHER investigation before impeaching him.

If you or I “violated federal AND state law,” we could scream our innocence until our lungs burst while we were thrown in jail to await trial, with the certainty of a guilty verdict.

But if you’re an old white guy who wears ties, it’s OK to commit felonies willy-nilly. The only consequences you’ll face are a harsh speech and some hand-wringing while the so-called “authorities” form a new committee to confirm their already-completed investigation into the misdeeds the world already knows you committed because you yourself left a complete, bloody trail of video and audio we’ve all seen, as well as written evidence and a queue of witnesses eager to rat you out.

What I’d like to know is, who kidnapped accountability, and how do we get it back?

Five members of Trump’s Cabinet were referred to the Justice Department for criminal prosecution, yet they all walked away unscathed with their fresh taxpayer-funded fortunes to write their lying memoirs.

Despite being suspended from practicing law, raided and having his electronic devices seized weeks ago, Rudy Giuliani is still blathering threats on TV that anybody who dares to hold him accountable for any of his myriad crimes — for Trump and side gigs purely for profit — is a liar and will pay for it in heaven, whatever that’s supposed to mean.

While the Trump Organization itself and its chief financial officer Alan Weisselberg are under indictment, life goes grifting along for the other culpable executives, Trump’s demon spawn, Junior, Eric and Ivanka.

And Trump himself, the most hardcore, inept crook ever to befoul the Oval Office, has proven every day, on multimedia, beyond all doubt, that he’s a thief, cheat, mass murder, seditionist and traitor. Yet nearly seven months out of office, he’s still being treated like a monarch who answers to no law.

So, Trump merrily plots Phase 3 of his coup. Phase 1 was to overturn the election. Phase 2 was to dispatch his crazed MAGA cult to kill Congress.

This dementia patient is going around proclaiming himself our once and future dictator, and what accountability does he face? State, federal and congressional committees and investigations grinding at a pace to make even snails lose their shit.

Meanwhile, the halls of Congress reek from the stench of Republican vermin who commit daily treason by lying and aiding Trump’s coup attempts when they should be rotting in cells for engaging in sedition.

The only conclusions I can draw from all this stonewalling and inaction are:

1. Prosecutors (I’m looking at you, Merrick “Molasses” Garland) intend to foot-drag until statutes of limitations kick in and render certain crimes moot.

2. Prosecutors are waiting for the perps to die of natural causes before they’re brought to trial so nobody has to be the one to blame them for anything.

In the meantime, while Trump Republicans foment chaos and anarchy, Biden, bless his heart, ignores it and gaslights us with happy talk about bipartisanship and what a great country we are.

You know what would REALLY make this country great? The swift and safe return of accountability.


Wokeness Is Starting to Hit My Limits

March 22, 2021

By Karen

One particular assault accusation against New York Governor Andrew Cuomo recently got my attention. A woman named Anna says Cuomo kissed her against her will at what appeared to be a large wedding. His lips hit her cheek because she turned her head.

When I saw this picture, I had a flashback to another wedding decades ago…

Photo: CNN

It was probably 1967. I was 13, staying the summer in Massachusetts with my grandparents and forced to tag along to a big Italian wedding. I don’t remember who got married, but I’ll never forget the gorgeous little cream-colored lace dress I wore, which I accessorized with hot-pink fishnets that my grandmother hated. Instead, she made me wear white anklets. With LACE!

We were on the church steps when a great-uncle showed up. I barely knew him. He had the look of a less-handsome Cesar Romero…

Suddenly, this near-stranger grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me right on the lips. And that was my first real kiss with the opposite sex.

Was I “confused and shocked and embarrassed,” like Anna? Did I alert the media to call out Uncle Kissy-Face as a perverted pig?

None of that. I was definitely surprised, but that’s Italians for you. Grabby and affectionate. What’s more cringe-worthy to me was the humiliation of those stupid baby socks.

Cuomo is accused of making gauche passes that sound like assault. If he did, he deserves to be punished. But a kiss at a wedding? Give me a break.

I’m afraid our whole sense of male-female interaction is being twisted beyond recognition. I blew a gasket that Turner Classic Movies feels a need to put Henry Higgins “in context.” WTF?!

TCM plans to hold roundtable discussions before showing certain classic movies to explain why they’re unwoke.

In this new reality, My Fair Lady, the Lerner and Loewe musical adaptation of George Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion, is about a wealthy phonetics expert named Higgins who sets out to subjugate, humiliate and exploit a young women named Eliza Doolittle, whom he considers “a draggle-tailed guttersnipe” — just to win a bet.

TCM thinks Alan Jay Lerner made the story’s ending “less feminist” by giving it the upbeat ending viewers wanted, instead of Shaw’s. Watch it yourself. Higgins and Eliza have just had a final reckoning where he admires her new independence, calls her a “consort battleship,” but she tells him she can do “bloody well” without him. Now, he’s returning home alone…

I’ve watched this movie dozens of times and see Higgins, the “confirmed old bachelor,” finally brought to heel. At last, Eliza has put him in his place. When he tries to save face by inquiring about his slippers, she just smiles because they both know she’ll never fetch again.

I guess young people today think Eliza suffers from Stockholm Syndrome.

What’s surprising is that they haven’t gone berserk yet over another misogynistic musical written by those monsters Rodgers and Hammerstein based on a memoir published in 1870.

In The King & I, a young English widow with a son takes a job in Siam (now Thailand) as a governess. She immediately discovers that her workplace is toxic. Her boss, an Asian male, behaves like a king, walking around half-naked and demanding all subordinates — particularly women — to actually grovel at his feet. He forces Anna to live on-site against her will and be on call 24/7.

The climax of this woeful power imbalance may be the most prolonged and disturbing depiction of workplace harassment, bullying and sexual assault ever captured on film…

Since 1956, movie-goers have mistaken this movie, like My Fair Lady, as a love story without kisses. But now we know that Yul Brynner, his overpowering sexual magnetism notwithstanding, had NO BUSINESS touching Deborah Kerr’s waist without permission, let alone forcing her to do the polka.

Did I forget to mention that in both movies, not only was there great wealth and power disparity, but also age? Back in the day, these were called “May-December” romances, and no one considered themselves a victim.

PS: If Richard Rodgers were still with us, he’d be roasted alive on the spit of #MeToo with an apple in his mouth. He was a family man with two daughters who had a reputation for casual hookups. His music still pops up all the time in TV ads and comprises a sizable chunk of the Great American Songbook but, by today’s rules, we’d be compelled to silence and scrap his every note.


Will Sandra Lee Have the Last Laugh?

January 5, 2011

By Adele

The Today Show this morning did a story on Semi-Homemade’s Sandra Lee, who is now the first girlfriend of New York. Her lover, Andrew Cuomo, was sworn in last week as governor while she demurely held the Bible.

One of her pet causes will be to alleviate hunger in New York — one yukky can of vegetables at a time.

She and Cuomo met in the summer of 2005 after they both went through divorce. They have been living together and will continue to do so. Cuomo has 3 teenage daughters by his ex-wife, Kerry Kennedy (yes, one of those Kennedys). Sandra is childless.

Now that Sandra’s got connections in high places, I wonder if Karen’s buddy, Anthony Bourdain, will retire his schtick about her putrid Kwanzaa Cake? He may very well cross her path a lot more at anti-hunger charity events.

And did Huffington Post cave under Sandra’s new political status and yank Denise Vivaldo’s story about how she developed and sold to Sandra the Kwanzaa Cake recipe and many others even worse?

Will Sandra finally be on the receiving end of some respect, or earn herself a reputation as the tackiest hostess ever to grace a governor’s mansion, serving such delights as lasagna made with cottage cheese and tomato soup? Cuomo claims to love it, while his mother says the very idea makes her want to vomit.

Will her penchant for tablescapes and replacing all the drapes daily bust the state entertainment budget and drive the household staff berserk?

Michelle Obama tested her influence by getting women to wear studded gladiator belts hiked up under their armpits for a while. Will Sandra try to make MSG- and salt-laden processed and canned cuisine chic eats for New Yorkers?

Will being the governor’s girl (and, who knows, a future presidential candidate’s cutie) become so all-consuming that Sandra abandons her dream of becoming the reconstituted Martha Stewart? Will Cuomo have to use that familiar cardboard cutout of Sandra with the pasted-on smile at official functions while she’s out in the pantry concocting and chugging cocktails?

This reality show promises to be more fun to watch than anything Sandra Lee has ever done on the Food Network.


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