'Slam Frank': The Anne Frank musical with something to offend everyone



Ten years ago, I sat in the dark at the Public Theater in downtown New York City, surrounded by a murmuring crowd, waiting for the curtain to rise on a brand-new play called "Hamilton."

At that point in time, Lin-Manuel Miranda’s hip-hop musical had yet to become the behemoth it is now. Quite the opposite — there were no cast albums or Disney+ recordings, and aside from a few regional workshops years earlier and its word-of-mouth reputation as the “next big thing,” no one in the audience had any idea what we were in for.

A pansexual Latina Anne Frank with an Afro-Caribbean tiger mom and a chronically 'neurospicy' closet case for a dad? Now you've gone too far.

Expanding the form

The next few hours were filled with a strange, albeit thoroughly impressive, showing of lyrical prowess. Miranda had somehow managed to turn historian Ron Chernow's 818-page Alexander Hamilton biography into a crowd-pleasing, pop-culture-infused depiction of the earliest days of a fledgling America.

More provocative was Miranda's deliberate choice to cast primarily black and Latino actors to portray the founding fathers. While a few nitpickers balked at the spectacle of "people of color" portraying slave owners, most marveled at the audacious ingenuity of it: What could be more revolutionary than retelling the American story so that it reflects all Americans?

The crowd left the theater excited. There was no doubt that we had witnessed something groundbreaking. If Aaron Burr could be black and Alexander Hamilton Puerto Rican, what else was possible?

Decolonizing 'Diary'

Eight years later, lyricist and composer Andrew Fox stumbled upon an answer. It came to him in the form of a (since-deleted) 2022 Twitter thread hotly debating a never-before-asked question: Did Anne Frank ever acknowledge her white privilege?

As is often the case, the online arguing devolved into acrimonious ad hominem and fruitless whataboutism. Fox realized that mere words would never get to heart of the matter. As with "Hamilton," it would take the power of musical theater to win hearts and minds. And he would do Miranda's non-white casting one better — reimagining Anne Frank herself as a person of color.

And so Fox and librettist Joel Sinensky set out to transform the "Diary of Anne Frank" into "Slam Frank," an intersectional, multiethnic, gender-queer, decolonized, anti-capitalist, hyper-empowering Afro-Latin hip-hop musical.

Originally slated for three weeks at small off-Broadway venue the Asylum, "Slam Frank" has become a massive hit for the theater, which recently extended its run through the end of December.

Piercings and Patagonias

Want diversity? Look no farther than the viewers showing up in droves. At any given performance, you can find a septum piercing, a Patagonia vest, and a pair of bifocals all in the same row.

Yes, even liberals enjoy "Slam Frank," despite the outrage it has provoked in some of their compatriots. “This whole project is head-spinningly grotesque and offensive,” went one post to the r/JewsOfConscience sub-Reddit. “Bringing up the holocaust and not mentioning the current genocide in Gaza just gives me the ick,” lamented another.

The irony of takes like these is thick, since one can imagine these same critics of "Slam Frank" being perfectly open to the idea of race- and gender-swapping other historical characters. But a pansexual Latina Anne Frank with an Afro-Caribbean tiger mom and a chronically "neurospicy" closet case for a dad? Now you've gone too far.

RELATED: 'Anne Frank' kindergarten is being renamed for the sake of diversity: 'We wanted a name without a political background'

TIM SLOAN/AFP via Getty Images

A real production

The show's earliest marketing attracted attention with a simpler question: “Is 'Slam Frank' a real musical?”

The answer is a decisive "yes." "Slam Frank" is not a social media gimmick or an expertly crafted exercise in long-form rage- bait. Again: It is a full-length show, with a cast, that is being performed on regularly scheduled dates at the Asylum NYC.

I know because I've seen it. "Slam Frank" is not just a real production, but an entertaining one. It is smartly written, balancing humor with sincerity, featuring songs composed and performed with impressive musicianship. Think Trey Parker and Matt Stone’s "The Book of Mormon" or the award-winning puppet extravaganza "Avenue Q" — but with a final gesture of leftist piety that pushes the logic of your average keffiyeh-clad student protester at Columbia to uncomfortable extremes.

The shocking finale is played so straight that plenty will miss the satire, and even those in on the joke may notice how easily it could be mistaken for peak-wokeness agitprop. If there is a clear "message" here, the show's creators aren't about to clarify it. "Slam Frank" is happy to offend each viewer in whatever way he, she, or they wish to be offended. How's that for inclusive?

Trump personally requested the revival of an iconic movie franchise — and now it's happening



Just days after it was reported that President Donald Trump was pushing for the revival of classic 1980s and 1990s movies, Paramount is now making the president's dream a reality.

Trump ally Larry Ellison's control over Paramount — and its giant film library that includes "Titanic" and "Saving Private Ryan" — is the key connection.

'Cancel culture stopped them dead in their tracks.'

According to Semafor, Trump has been pushing to bring back what were described as the "raucous comedies" and action movies of decades past, and has shown passion for titles like Jean-Claude Van Damme's generational martial arts movie, 1988's "Bloodsport."

That isn't the first title to be resuscitated by Paramount, however. Rather, the president has reportedly personally asked Paramount to revive the buddy cop film "Rush Hour," from director Brett Ratner, starring comedian Chris Tucker and action star Jackie Chan.

As of Tuesday, it seems Paramount is ready to get the ball rolling on "Rush Hour 4" nearly two decades since the last release.

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Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan. Photo by Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images

The studio is now in the works to distribute the sequel, according to Variety, which also reported that Trump requested the franchise's return. Paramount will release the movie theatrically but will not be marketing or financing it, while Warner Bros.' New Line Cinema will get a percentage of box office revenue; they backed the original production and sequels.

Variety also reported that director Ratner and the "Rush Hour" producers shopped the new film around to different studios, but cancel culture stopped them dead in their tracks, with other Hollywood execs not wanting to be attached to Ratner's name.

Ratner, who recently directed a documentary on Melania Trump, hasn't done a feature film since 2014's "Hercules" starring Dwayne "the Rock" Johnson.

Ratner was accused of a whole slew of sex crimes in October 2017 as part of the Me Too movement that saw at least six women launch accusations at him.

This resulted in Warner Bros. severing ties with the "X-Men: The Last Stand" director.

RELATED: Fugees felon gets 14 years for illegal Obama donations

Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker. Photo by Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images

The three "Rush Hour" films, released in 1998, 2001, and 2007, vaulted both Chan and Tucker from their specific genres into the mainstream and grossed over $500 million against a combined budget of around $263 million. Internationally, the films grossed almost another $400 million.

Throughout the 1990s, Tucker had been a successful stand-up comedian and starred in movies like "Friday" and "The Fifth Element" before landing the iconic role.

Chan had already starred in dozens of action films, but his popularity was on the rise in the United States in 1990s, with "Supercop" and "Rumble in the Bronx" gaining cult status, before "Rush Hour" took him to new heights.

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'Landman': Is Taylor Sheridan's gritty oil drama the last honest show about America?



The days of "The Wire," "The Sopranos," "Boardwalk Empire," "Breaking Bad," and "Better Call Saul" are gone. And they're never coming back.

Instead of quality TV, we get a stream of shallow muck that insults our intelligence and wastes our time. Seth Rogen peddling the same stale stoner humor for the thousandth time. Pedro Pascal starring in a dystopian video-game adaptation so obsessed with gay "representation" that it might as well list Grindr as a co-producer.

Sheridan shows a country held together by early mornings, long shifts, and people who take pride in work most citizens rarely notice.

Then, just as you’re about to suffocate in the hothouse atmosphere of algorithm-driven fake-prestige TV, one show comes stomping in with a pair of steel-toed boots and kicks the door off its hinges. Fresh air floods the place — enough that something real might actually grow again. That show is "Landman."

Drill, baby, drill

Forget "shame"; it's time to drill, baby, drill. Taylor Sheridan's hit is back for season 2, with the TV auteur once again proving that he is one of the few people in Hollywood who actually understands the America he is depicting. Many viewers know him from "Yellowstone," the rare modern hit that refused to treat ranchers the way Hollywood treats anyone who still works with their hands. Where executive elites see deplorables, he sees Americans with stories worth telling.

Sheridan brings that same respect to "Landman." He writes ordinary Americans with dignity rather than derision. He shows them as they are: hardworking, flawed, loyal, funny, and strong enough to carry a story on their backs. "Landman" is no cheap cousin of "Yellowstone." It stands tall: lean, mean, focused, and built with the same skill that made Sheridan’s early work impossible to ignore.

The show moves effortlessly between blue-collar reality and white-collar brutality, revealing the canyon between those who pull the oil from the ground and those who profit from it. There’s a real honesty to that contrast. Sheridan knows this world, and it shows. You feel it in every shot of the Permian Basin. You hear it in the blunt, believable way his characters speak.

Billy Bob at his best

And then there’s Billy Bob Thornton. One of America’s finest actors, doing his best work since he stole "Fargo" as a soft-spoken psychopath who could change the temperature of a room with a single line. As Tommy Norris, a ruthless oilman, he brings back that same menace, just a little more restrained. He’s the perfect Sheridan creation: bruised, stubborn, quick to size people up, and capable of cruelty when pushed.

Season 1 worked best when it put Norris at the center and let everything else orbit around him. The very first scene of the very first episode sets the tone. Norris, blindfolded in a room with a cartel heavy, cracks a dry line about how they both traffic in addictive products. His just happens to make more money. It’s a joke with teeth. Sheridan doesn’t shy away from the darker corners of the oil world, the places where danger, deceit, and obscene wealth share the same bed.

Norris once ran his own outfit. Now he’s a fixer for M-Tex Oil, answering to Monty Miller, a billionaire played by Jon Hamm of "Mad Men" fame. Hamm leans into one of the last great “man’s man” roles on TV. He moves through marble corridors and executive suites with the relaxed confidence of a man who has never had to fight for a parking space or a paycheck.

Norris gets the other Texas. The asylum-adjacent McMansion he shares with co-workers. The long, unforgiving drives that eat up whole days. And the late-night waffle joints where truckers, rig hands, and the down-and-outs swallow bad coffee and brood over worse decisions.

Recognizably real

Sheridan shows a country held together by early mornings, long shifts, and people who take pride in work most citizens rarely notice. He zooms in on communities where faith still shapes daily life, where people curse when they have to, where men bow their heads before a meal and chew tobacco like there’s no tomorrow.

For conservatives, and especially for Christians who are tired of being reduced to stereotypes, "Landman" feels recognizably real. Season 1 had its flaws, including a few moments that leaned too hard into climate panic, but it never lost sight of what matters: good storytelling built on real characters and real consequences.

RELATED: 'Yellowstone' actor Forrie J. Smith on why America needs to rediscover its cowboy culture

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Men at work

And yes, the progressive pearl-clutchers will claim "Landman" has a “woman problem,” the same complaint they threw at "Yellowstone." They insist that Sheridan sidelines women or turns them into cardboard cutouts.

The truth is far less dramatic. Both ranching and the oil fields are worlds dominated by men, and Sheridan writes them as they actually are, not as activists wish them to be. That’s not misogyny, but an accurate reflection of the reality millions of Americans live every day. Sure, some female characters could use more lines, but that hardly damages the show. It simply acknowledges that in these worlds, the danger, the decisions, and the dirty work fall mostly on men.

"Landman" also has something most modern shows forget: a genuine sense of place. Not the packaged Americana you see on postcards, but the West Texas that actually exists, where the heat melts your mind and vacation time is something you hear about, not something you get.

Season 2 promises to go deeper — underground for the oil and under the skin of the people who pull it out. More tension between the barons and the boys in the mud. More of Thornton’s world-weary wit. And more of what Sheridan does better than anyone around: crafting TV that wouldn’t look out of place beside the giants of the late 1990s and early 2000s.

If "Yellowstone" was Sheridan’s hymn to the American ranch, "Landman" is his sermon on the American worker. In an age of narrative nothingness, something on TV finally feels worth watching.

Louis CK's 'Ingram': Skilled comic spews self-indulgent self-abuse



For more than two centuries, the great American novel has tempted writers who dreamed of capturing the country’s soul between two covers.

From Melville’s "Moby-Dick" to Fitzgerald’s "The Great Gatsby," from Faulkner’s haunted South to Steinbeck’s dust-caked plains, these novels shaped the way Americans saw themselves. Even in decline, the form still attracted giants. Updike, Roth, Morrison — writers who made words shine and sentences sing. Each tried to show what it means to be American: to dream, to stumble, and to start again.

To compound matters, 'Ingram' isn’t just a story of exploration, but also one of self-exploration, in the most literal and least appealing sense.

Now comes comedian, filmmaker, and repentant sex pest Louis C.K. to try his hand at what turns out to be ... a not-great American novel. In truth, it’s awful.

Road to nowhere

"Ingram" reads like a road map to nowhere — meandering, bloated, and grammatically reckless. The prose wanders as if written under anesthesia. Sentences stretch, then sag. The paragraphs arrive in puddles, not lines. There’s an energy in C.K.’s comedy — a kind of desperate honesty — that, on stage, electrifies. But on the page, that same honesty slips into self-indulgence. The book is less "On the Road" and more off the rails.

To be clear, I love his comedy. I’ve seen him live and will see him again in the new year. He remains one of the most gifted observers of human absurdity alive — a man who can mine a half-eaten slice of pizza for existential truth. But this is not about comedy. This is about writing. And C.K. cannot write. The pacing, the architecture, the restraint — none of it is there.

Rough draft

The story unfolds in a version of rural Texas that seems to exist only in C.K.’s imagination, a land of dull prospects and even duller minds. At its center is Ingram, a poor, half-feral boy raised in poverty and pushed out into the world by a mother who tells him she has nothing left to offer. His education consists of hardship and hearsay. He treats running water like sorcery and basic plumbing like black magic. C.K. calls it “a young drifter’s coming of age in an indifferent world,” but it reads more like rough stand-up notes bound by mistake.

The writing is atrocious. Vast portions of the book read like this:

I couldn’t see my eyes, but I knew what was on my throat was a hand by the way it was warm and tightening and quivering like you could feel the thinking inside each finger, which were so long and thick that one of them pressed hard against the whole side of my face.

Or this:

I sat up, rubbing my aching neck til my breath came back regular, and I crawled out the tent flap myself, finding the world around me lit by the sun, which, just rising, was still low enough in the sky to throw its light down there under the great road, which was once again roaring and shaking above me.

Sentences stretch on like prison terms, suffocated by their own syntax, gasping for punctuation. The dialogue is somehow worse. Ingram’s conversations with the drifters and degenerates he meets on his journey stumble from cliché to confusion, the rhythm of speech giving way to nonsensical babble.

RELATED: Bill Maher and Bill Burr agree Louis CK should be welcomed back in Hollywood

Photo by Ronald Martinez/Getty Images

A gripping tale

To compound matters, "Ingram," isn’t just a story of exploration, but also one of self-exploration, in the most literal and least appealing sense. There’s a staggering amount of masturbation. C.K. doesn’t so much write about shame as relive it, page after sticky page. His public fall from grace plays out again and again, only now under the pretense of art. It’s less confession than repetition — self-absolution by way of self-abuse, and somehow still not funny.

Any comparisons to writers like Bukowski or Barry Hannah are little more than wishful thinking. Bukowski was grimy, but in a graceful way. He wrote filth with style, turning hangovers into hymns.

Hannah’s madness had a tune to it, strange but unmistakably his own. Even Hunter S. Thompson, at his most incoherent, had velocity. His sentences tore through the page, drug-fueled but deliberate.

C.K.’s writing has none of that. He tries to channel Americana — the heat, the highways, the hard men who dream of escape — but his clumsy prose ensures the only thing channeled is confusion. As C.K. recently told Bill Maher, he did no research for the book, and that much is evident from the first page. His characters talk like they were written by a man who’s only seen Texas through "No Country for Old Men."

Don't quit your day job

In the history of American letters, many great writers have fallen. Hemingway drank himself into oblivion; Mailer stabbed his wife; Capote drowned in his own decadence. But their sentences still stood. Their craft was the redemption. With "Ingram," C.K. has no such refuge. The book exposes the limits of confession as art — that point where self-exposure turns into self-immolation. It could have been great; instead, it’s the very opposite. The only thing it proves is that writing and performing are different callings. Comedy forgives indiscipline. Literature doesn’t.

The great American novel has survived worse assaults — from bored professors, from self-serious minimalists, from MFA factories that mistake verbosity for vision. But rarely has it been dragged so low by someone so convinced of his brilliance. There’s perverse poetry in it, though. A man who was caught with his pants down now delivers a novel that never pulls them back up.

Fugees felon gets 14 years for illegal Obama donations



Platinum-selling artist Pras has been sentenced to prison following charges related to illegal foreign lobbying and conspiracy.

Prakazrel Samuel Michel, member of the huge 1990s group the Fugees, has been trapped in legal turmoil for years surrounding apparent attempts to influence presidential elections and administrations.

'There's a possibility that I'm going in while I'm fighting.'

The Fugees' 1996 album "The Score" went seven-times platinum in the United States, and even though the record hit No. 1 in seven countries, it was the group's last original release.

Michel was charged in 2019 and began his trial four years later in 2023. The three-week trial that included testimony from actor Leonardo DiCaprio was focused on multiple money-laundering schemes related to Malaysian financier Jho Low, a Billboard report revealed.

First, Michel was accused of secretly funneling $2 million from Low to Barack Obama's 2012 presidential campaign. The donations were allegedly made through straw donors. In 2023, Michel said he received $20 million from Low, but it was only to help him get a photo with Obama. These figures were part of a $120 million total Michel received from Low, WCBV reported.

Secondly, Michel was accused of funneling money from Low to a lobbying campaign that had the goal of convincing President Trump's administration to drop an investigation into Low in 2019.

RELATED: Why the post-Pelosi Democratic Party seems directionless

Pras Michel arrives at U.S. District Court on March 31, 2023, in Washington, D.C. Photo by Kevin Dietsch/Getty Images

Michel was recently ordered to forfeit over $64 million after he was found guilty for his attempts to influence the Trump administration.

'Next chapter'

A representative named Erica Dumas told Variety, "Throughout his career Pras has broken barriers. This is not the end of his story. He appreciates the outpouring of support as he approaches the next chapter."

Pras had previously told the outlet that he planned to appeal the outcome of the case, saying he was "going to fight" and "going to appeal."

"But there's a possibility that I'm going in while I'm fighting," he said. "It's just the reality."

RELATED: Grammy-Winning Singer Headed to Prison for Failing to Pay $1 Million Owed in Taxes

Wyclef Jean (L), Pras Michel (C), and Lauryn Hill (R) attend the 24th Annual American Music Awards at the Shrine Auditorium in Los Angeles, California, January 1997. Photo by Vinnie Zuffante/Getty Images

Tumultuous trio

The other Fugees members went on to have careers worthy of feature film.

In 2010, Wyclef Jean attempted to run for president of Haiti after a hurricane ravaged the island. He was eventually dropped from the ballot, presumably because he did not meet the country's residency requirements. It was also revealed in the process that Jean had been claiming he was three years younger than he actually was, admitting he was 40 years old, not 37.

In 2013, Lauryn Hill spent three months in prison for failing to pay around $1 million in taxes. At the time, she compared her experience in the music industry to slavery.

"I am a child of former slaves who had a system imposed on them," she claimed. "I had an economic system imposed on me."

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YouTube prankster challenges cops to a duel — immediately regrets it



Infamous YouTube prankster Jack Doherty faces serious jail time after a run-in with police in Miami Beach last weekend.

The charges — which include possession of a controlled substance, possession of 20 grams or less of marijuana, and resisting an officer without violence — could get the baby-faced boor up to seven years in prison.

'After we duel, sir.'

After going viral with his "flipping" videos as a teen, Doherty has amassed a huge following — and a reputation for obnoxious public behavior — over the last decade.

Doherty was filming content for his over 15 million YouTube subscribers while parked in the middle of the street in Miami when local police asked him to move. That's when the trouble began.

In a video uploaded to TikTok, Doherty is heard responding to the request by telling police, "I challenge y'all to a duel," as he plays a gambling app on his phone. Repeated requests by the police were met with the same response. "After we duel, sir."

Fed-up cops placed Doherty under arrest, before conducting a search that led to a string of charges.

RELATED: 'The Naked Gun' creator David Zucker bashes 'frightened' Hollywood elites

YouTuber Jack Doherty Arrested While Filming Content On Miami Street

"Chill, chill, chill," Doherty said as an officer placed his hands in cuffs.

In bodycam footage from Miami Beach Police, an officer searched Doherty's pockets and found a pill before placing him in the back seat of a patrol car.

While it isn't clear what the pill was, "Inside Edition" reported that Doherty was later charged with possession of cannabis, a misdemeanor, as well as possession of a controlled substance, a felony. Another misdemeanor, resisting an officer without violence, was also charged.

The Populist Times reported, however, that Doherty was charged with possession of amphetamines and cited another video where police were visibly upset with the young male.

"You think you’re funny?" a uniformed officer asked Doherty. "If you're gonna be funny, get out of the f**king street. I don’t know who the f**k you think you are, bro," the officer added.

RELATED: Fat chance! Obese immigrants make America sicker.

Photo by Jerod Harris/Getty Images

Doherty was reportedly booked into a Miami-Dade County facility just before 9 a.m., alleging that he was released after about 10 hours.

Doherty said in a subsequent video that he "waited in a cell for five hours" before getting fingerprints and mug shots. "Then I chilled in there for another five-plus hours, maybe more," he explained.

He was later released on $500 bond, according to "Inside Edition," with an arraignment set for January.

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Sore Liu-ser: Multimillionaire 'Kill Bill' star gripes about 'Caucasian'-heavy Hollywood



Boo-hoo, Lucy Liu.

The veteran actress is in the awards season mix for “Rosemead,” the tale of an immigrant grappling with a troubled teenage son. That means she’s working the press circuit, talking to as many media outlets as she can to promote a possible Best Actress nomination.

No more peeks at Erivo’s extended, Freddy Krueger-like nails or Grande waving away a helicopter overhead as if it were about to swoop down on them.

If you think political campaigns are cynical, you haven’t seen an actor push for a golden statuette. That may explain why Liu shared her victimhood story with the Hollywood Reporter.

Turns out the chronically employed star (123 acting credits, according to IMDB.com) hasn’t been employed enough, by her standards.

I remember being like, "Why isn't there more happening?" ... I didn't want to participate in anything where I felt like they weren't even taking me seriously. How am I being given these offers that are less than when I started in this business? It was a sign of disrespect to me, and I didn't really want that. I didn't want to acquiesce to that ... I cannot turn myself into somebody who looks Caucasian, but if I could, I would've had so many more opportunities.

Liu has had the kind of career most actors would kill to duplicate. That doesn’t play on the identity politics guilt of her peers though. Nor is it fodder for a “woe is me” awards speech ...

Rest for the 'Wicked'

That’s a wrap!

The “Wicked: For Good” press push got the heave-ho earlier this week when star Cynthia Erivo reportedly lost her voice. Co-star Ariana Grande pulled out of her appearances in solidarity.

Yup. Not remotely suspicious.

The duo made way too many headlines last year during their initial “Wicked” press tour. Why? It was just ... weird. Odd. Creepy. The stars’ emaciated appearance didn’t help, but their kooky, collective affect was off-putting, to be kind.

Even the Free Press called out the duo’s sadly emaciated state.

They trotted out more of the same for round two, and someone had the good sense to yank them off the stage before the bulletproof sequel hit theaters Nov. 21.

No more peeks at Erivo’s extended, Freddy Krueger-like nails or Grande waving away a helicopter overhead as if it were about to swoop down on them.

Any publicity is good publicity, right? Not when it’s wickedly cringe ...

RELATED: 'Last Days' brings empathy to doomed Sentinel Island missionary's story

Vertical

Face for radio

John Oliver thinks it’s 1985.

HBO's far-left lip flapper is furious that the Trump administration stripped NPR of its federal funding. Who will ignore senile presidents and laptop scandals without our hard-earned dollars?

Think of the children!

Never mind that Americans have endless ways to access news, from AM radio to TV, satellite, cable, and streaming options. Heck, just pick up a $20 set of rabbit ears, and you’ll get a crush of local TV stations in many swathes of the country.

You have to live in a bunker a hundred feet below the earth to avoid the news.

Oliver, to his credit, put his money where his mouth is. Or at least, your money. He set up a public auction to raise cash for NPR stations.

Why? Because we’re all going to croak without it. That’s assuming you didn’t die following the passage of the One Big Beautiful Bill Act and the lack of net neutrality.

“Public radio saves lives. The emergency broadcast system. Without it, people would die."

A second-rate satirist might have a field day with anyone pushing the “you’ll die without X, Y, or Z” card. Alas Oliver doesn’t warrant that ranking ...

'Running' on empty

Rising star status ain’t what it used to be.

Glen Powell seemed like the next Tom Cruise for a hot minute. Handsome. Affable. Unwilling to insult half the country. He stole a few moments during “Top Gun: Maverick” and powered a mediocre rom-com — 2023’s “Anyone but You” — into a $220 million global hit.

So when Hollywood handed him the keys to the “Running Man” remake, the industry assumed he had finally arrived. Give him his “I’m on the A-List” smoking jacket.

That’s until the remake’s opening weekend numbers came in. Or rather trickled in. That $16 million-plus haul just won’t cut it.

Now Powell’s next film is under the microscope. The project dubbed “Huntington” just got a last-minute name change to “How to Make a Killing.” The film follows Powell’s character as he tries to ensure he’ll inherit millions from his uber-wealthy family. That’s despite getting cast out of the clan’s good graces.

The movie now has a Feb. 20 release date, hardly a key window for an A-lister like Powell.

Then again, his time on the A-list may have already expired.