I’m writing this while at my first-ever Free Press board meeting. Did you know we have a board now? We do. Apparently I’m “distracting” and “those danishes are for investors.” First order of business is ousting the CEO.
→ Kamala’s big hostile interview: It definitely looked like Kamala Harris was talking to a journalist, doing an interview in her quest for the biggest job in the country—nay, the world. They were sitting in chairs, yes. There were cameras, certainly. Patent pumps, check! And the woman acting as a journalist was asking questions with a kind of serious face. And yet. And yet it was not in any way an interview with a journalist. Here was Stephanie Ruhle, MSNBC host, just a few days earlier arguing on Real Time with Bill Maher that it’s not fair to ask that Kamala Harris have answers to policy questions. This is a real back-and-forth with the New York Times columnist Bret Stephens, who said that Kamala should answer questions:
Stephanie Ruhle: “Let’s say you don’t like her answer—are you going to vote for Donald Trump?”
Bret Stephens: “No, I’m not—I just said I’m not going to vote for him.”
Stephanie Ruhle: “Kamala Harris is not running for perfect—she’s running against Trump. We have two choices. And so there are some things you might not know her answer to.”
Good job, Stephanie Ruhle. Very good job. You get to do the Kamala interview now! And what an interview it was. Here was the vibe:
Stephanie Ruhle: “Prices are still high.”
Kamala Harris: “I agree with you.”
The message to the media is very simple: You have to be a huge Kamala fan, you must learn all the lyrics, you must debase yourself as a journalist, and then you’ll get to hear some “answers” to some “questions” and you’ll get one signed pair of Kamala the Cop handcuffs (I would do literally anything for a set, Kamala, I will debase myself more than anyone, please). Kamala, call on me! I know that when you worked at McDonald’s you did fries! Not McFlurries, fries!
It might sound crass, but as Kamala rises in the polls and journalists tear off their blazers to reveal Kamala Harris chest tattoos, I’ve never been more bullish on The Free Press. My message to mainstream media: Keep on keeping on. I love you guys. And if you’re a CNN anchor thinking about posting a Kamala appreciation TikTok dance to get your own Kamala sit-down “interview,” I love that for you. I’m not here to stop you. I’m here to teach you the dance, and profit from your weakness, which is why, Free Press board, I deserve a raise.
→ This is where Trump is, emotionally: Donald J. Trump spent his week selling Official Trump Coins. The former president of this great nation—and the current Republican candidate for the job—stood in front of large American flags, wearing an American flag pin on his lapel, and issued fake currency with his own face on it. He told viewers that “The President Donald J. Trump First Edition Silver Medallion will be available starting Wednesday.” He said they were the ONLY OFFICIAL coin designed by him.
Whenever I think we’ve hit Trump’s schlocky bottom, I find out we have not. There is more. And more under that. If this man gets back into the White House, he will gather all the various candlesticks, spread them on the lawn, and hold a garage sale. My main question is, what can you buy with these coins and what is the exchange rate? Is my house worth ten Trump coins? Six coins, four goats, and an Appeal to Heaven flag?
Specifically, we need to study the FAQs:
→ Tucker’s new pouches: If the Trump coin’s not doing it for you, there’s the Tucker nicotine pouch. In the before-times, Tucker had been a Zyn nicotine pouch man. He has said that “The truth is, Zyn is a powerful work enhancer, and also a male enhancer.” Gross. I suppose the nicotine pouch lost its power over Tucker when news broke that Zyn’s parent company, Philip Morris International, donated to Kamala Harris. I think she’s quite attractive—a male enhancer, if you will—but Tucker does not agree.
So now, Tucker is starting a competitor, called Alp. Yes, Philip Morris, tobacco corporation, was too woke for Tuck-Tuck, who says: “I just thought, okay, there should be a product that reflects the style, the aesthetic, the culture, the beliefs of the people who use it.” My guess is you start packing an Alp patch in your cheek and ten minutes later you just have a few questions about World War II. The wintergreen Alp flavor causes you to have no skepticism whatsoever of a crackhead who claims to have had a gay love affair with Obama. It’s all on the side of the canister.