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The Week’s Most Hunching, Bunching, and Actor-Punching Headlines

GENDERONIMO!

American mass shootings have occurred everywhere. Schools, malls, churches, temples (Jew, Sikh, and Buddhist), movie theaters, concerts, offices, even planes (disgruntled black PSA employee David Burke).

Amazingly, the one place in American society that has never seen a mass shooting is a movie or TV studio…locations where the most emotionally troubled and psychologically unstable people work in the most high-pressure environment.

That seems odd.

In Japan—a nation known for civility—the most deadly post-WWII mass killing was at an entertainment studio, when a disgruntled anime writer torched a production company, killing 36.

Makes you realize that Marvel fans are actually rather civilized, in that none of them responded with homicide to the atrocity that was Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania.

Sure, there’ve been Hollywood stalkers, like Ken Gause, a black guy who hosted a King of Comedy-style imaginary talk show in his basement. In a news clip popular at the time but scrubbed from the ’net today, Gause interviewed an imaginary “Joe Piscopo,” which was truly pathetic in that even though the show was entirely in his head, the best guest he could book was Piscopo.

Worse still, Piscopo would’ve shown up if invited; it would’ve been his highest-profile gig in decades.

Gause was arrested at NBC in 1989 for trying to beat Johnny Carson to death with a sock filled with gravel.

Ed McMahonslaughter’s been institutionalized ever since.

Yet those isolated instances aside, mass shooters leave Hollywood alone.

Last week Lily Gladstone, the Oscar-nominated “Nimíipuu Indian” costar of Martin Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon, declared that “zhe” is now nonbinary and must be referred to as “Niizh Manidoowag.” The news was announced by Hollywood Indian “two-spirit spokesperson” Yuè Begay.

That’s not a joke.

One suspects that shooters leave Hollywood alone because they know they’re inflicting more pain on society by allowing it to exist.

GRADUAY-SHUNNED
Poor Jerry Seinfeld. All the billionaire comic wanted to do at his commencement address before the graduating class at Duke was tell a few finely honed zingers.

Whyyyyyy do they call it commencement? It’s an ending, not a beginning. Come-mencement? More like go-mencement. Amirite?

(dead silence)

And matriculate? Isn’t that what happens at the end of a porn flick? I mean, hey—he matriculated on the chick’s face. And when it comes to matriculation, summa cum laude.

(deader silence)

And what’s the deal with the gown? Who made the decision that getting a diploma has to involve flowing nightwear? Why do graduates have to look like they’re about to fix a martini for Hugh Hefner?

(deadest silence)

Israel has the right to exist.

(the graduates riot and storm out)

Yes, poor Jerry saw a massive walkout on his commencement speech because he supports Israel in its war with Hamas.

Seinfeld, currently on tour promoting his star-crammed “comedy” Unfrosted, a film built on the Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World principle that if you stuff enough stars into a film it’ll have to get good reviews because no critic will want to piss off that many agents and PR people, was subjected not only to a walkout, but online accusations of being a “groomer,” lobbed from high-profile leftist Twitter accounts that resurfaced the time he dated a 17-year-old girl.

So much for “grooming” being a “right-wing trope.”

What’s the deal with statutory? Who wants to date a statue? Venus de Milo has no hands. That’ll make for a boring sex life.

Fortunately, because of Seinfeld’s skill at improv, he turned the walkout into material for his act.

What’s the deal with Hamas? How can two groups that don’t eat pork be fighting over something with “ham” in the name?

(silence on the level of Microsoft’s anechoic chamber)

BUSCEMI? MORE LIKE BASH-A-ME
Taking a cue from franchises like Coffee Bean that hand out “punch cards” (for every beverage bought, a hole is punched, and when the card’s full, you win a free drink), NYC Mayor Adams is handing his black citizens actual punch cards: punch enough celebrities, you get a free bottle of Ripple.

First it was Rick Moranis—decked as he walked the streets of Manhattan, the culprit being a black gent in an “I Love NY” T-shirt who was auditioning for a role in the movie Honey, I Shrunk the Number of Teeth in Rick Moranis’ Mouth. Then last month it was Michael Stuhlbarg, costar of HBO’s Boardwalk Empire and the nebbishy father in the Coen brothers’ A Serious Man.

And in a case of black wreck-cellence, last week a dude was like, “Why sock the costar when the leading man lives here too?” As Steve Buscemi, star of Boardwalk Empire, was jauntily strolling the streets of Manhattan enjoying his unbroken teeth, a large gentleman re-created the scene in Fargo in which Buscemi’s jaw is shattered.

“The city that never sleeps” has become “the city that never stops putting you to sleep” via the fists of black thugs. NYC is now “jock city,” punching Hollywood’s nerds just because it can.

Buscemi was taken to a local hospital where the ER doc immediately called for emergency surgery due to the celeb’s swollen eyes and caved-in cheeks. However, a colleague pointed out that this is just the way Buscemi always looks.

Former Trump aide Steve Bannon is scheduled to go on trial this month in NYC for his part in the “build the wall” scam, and frankly, the way Manhattan is these days, he’s probably safer in a comfortable white-collar cell than he is strolling down 14th Street.

EURO-FISSION
Most Monty Python sketches translated well across the Atlantic. Silly walks, dead parrots, penguins on the TV, and gay lumberjacks are funny the world over. But one sketch that always baffled Americans was the parody of Eurovision, the European song contest that has, since the end of WWII, united the continent while making outsiders glad they don’t live there.

In the sketch, Graham Chapman sings a song called “Bing Tiddle-Tiddle Bang,” and while U.S. viewers likely thought it was one of the show’s most “far-out” moments, it was actually its most fact-based. Those are the exact kind of songs that win Eurovision. A year before the Python sketch, the contest winner was a U.K. tune titled “Boom Bang-a-Bang.” Other winners have included Turkey’s “Say Na Na Na” and Spain’s “Baila el Chiki-Chiki.” This year’s first runner-up was Croatia’s “Rim Tim Tagi Dim.”

Eurovision is closed to Asian performers because their names keep getting mistaken for songs.

“And you are?”

“Bing Bong Bangy-Wang.”

“I’m sorry, that song’s already being performed by the Belgians.”

More than once, Dutch performers have won merely by stating their name before beginning their number.

“Hello! I’m Meep Boop Bork Geep Ook Beek.”

“You win!”

“Wait, I haven’t started yet!”

This year, the contest was rocked by something other than idiotic songs with retarded lyrics. An Israeli performer was allowed to enter the competition…and if you’re asking why a Europe-only song contest can’t find local Jews to perform, that’s probably a question best addressed to the German team.

BTW, the Ukrainian entrant was named Jerry Heil. Way to counter those rumors of Ukrainian Nazism.

The presence of an Israeli birthed fury from many of the entrants, including the Scottish team members, whose song “Kike-Killa-Killa-Kike-Kike” was an audience favorite. Several countries protested the fact that no Palestinian performers were allowed, but Eurovision has a rule against repeating past entries, and as “Boom Bang-a-Bang” is the Palestinian national anthem, the team was disqualified.

CORPORATE CHOKES ON WOKE YOKE
Is corporate America’s obsession with “woke” finally coming to an end?

According to several mainstream media pieces last week, the answer is yes.

And what killed the honeymoon? Why, the films of Jeremy Boreing and Ben Shapiro, of course! Their most recent, Prairie Preacherman, starring Nick Searcy as a moral but relatable preacher, Adam Baldwin as a log, James Woods as a prehistoric crater, and Gina Carano as a cowpie, single-handedly killed wokeism.

Just kidding! According to two separate stories last week via MSN and Reuters, corporate woke is dying because, plainly put, consumers have had enough. Target has decided to pull back on its “LGBT”-themed merchandise, discontinuing such trans-friendly children’s items as “baby’s first penis-flattener” and “Barbie’s itty bitty titty-binder.”

Turns out consumers really weren’t interested in toddler toys that sexualized and sexually confused small children.

Also pulled from shelves? Poop Chutes and Ladders, a game that introduced kids to the joys of anal sex; Operation (Tranny Edition), in which the goal is to remove a man’s penis without triggering the alarm; Connect Four (reconfigured as an endorsement of polygamy); Hungry Hungry Hippos (now presented as a body-positivity exercise for the morbidly obese); and of course Kick the Can, meant to encourage kids to explore the joys of sadomasochistic homoeroticism.

Jokes aside, MSN interviewed several corporate “experts” who wondered why consumers are rebelling against woke corporate culture that encourages young girls to cut off their breasts, which is a real-life and tragically sincere version of what Norm Macdonald once called “the perfect joke,” in which the setup is also the punchline.

“Corporate American is baffled as to why parents are not supporting stores that tell their daughters to chop off their boobs. Perhaps the reason is that stores are telling their daughters to chop off their boobs.”

Still, even if corporations are starting to back off from tranny toys, for the moment there’s still anti-Israel mania to fuel that yearning for social justice.

Coming from Mattel—Pali-bu Barbie, the Palestinian doll equipped with a dream car-bomb and a hacksaw for beheading G.I. Jew.