Dead air

KRCC is just one of the three public broadcasters we support.

CPR, we hardly knew ye.

The Right got another zopilote feather in its asshat with the news that the Corporation for Public Broadcasting will cease operations in 2026.

What’s the problem? Why, money, of course. There’s just not enough to go around! Writes The New York Times:

Hey, $500 million here, $500 million there, and pretty soon you’re talking about real money. Money for stuff like — oh, I don’t know — say, a $30 million military parade to give Felonious Punk a chubby on his birthday. Or $1 billion to refurb’ a Qatari jet that he will take with him to his “library,” which will be a walk-in closet full of fuck books, golf scorecards (see the Fiction stacks), and classified documents (homeless dude thumbing through them whilst on the shitter).

And then there’s the tab for flying this fat cunt around the world to visit his golf courses, where the locals gather to jeer, snigger, and call him a fat cunt. We can call him a fat cunt right here at home for free. See? I just did it. Didn’t cost one of the pennies we won’t be making in 2026.

Maybe that’s why the Corporation for Public Broadcasting got it in the neck. No pennies for that crowd.

Not the best, but not bad

Herself being at the movies with some friends, and Miss Mia Sopaipilla snoozing in her tower, I was nibbling a green chile cheeseburger with fries and checking the TV for something that wouldn’t spoil my appetite when I stumbled upon this John Prine retrospective on “Austin City Limits.”

It’s titled “The Best of John Prine,” but it isn’t, not by a long shot. You’d need a lot more than 54 minutes to cover that vast expanse of musical territory.

But I’ll take it. And don’t I wish we had 54 more years of John Prine. I’ve been listening to his stories for a half-century and I’d be delighted to stick around for an extended encore.