No contest!

Donald Trump wins TV interviews through attrition, abetted by his questioners’ incompetence or resistance to bending their rigid program formats in the interest of truth and clarity.

Trump famously wears down interviewers with marathon stream-of-conscious riffs, benefiting hugely when they don’t require him to back up his tall tales—demand it on the spot—before speeding forward to the next question. Most of these interviewers haven’t the will or mental dexterity to engage in close-quarters combat with Trump. So they wilt; after each encounter, you can see his footprints on them.

And the smarter, more competent interviewers are too shackled by their stopwatches—must get on to the next interview—to go off script and take time to make him fully accountable.

Take the host of ABC’s “This Week with George Stephanopoulos” a very bright guy who does better than most with Trump. But still falls way, way short. That was true Sunday morning in an interview that was taped the day after the Democratic National Convention.

George Step-Trump interview

To his credit, GS threw in some pointed follow-up questions. But not nearly enough I found when watching the interview and later picking through the transcript.

His missed opportunities were plentiful, a list as long as Trump’s Pinocchio-lying nose. Here are a few:

–When questioned about former New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg’s Trump-trashing speech at the Dem convention, Trump responded, “…I think he made a deal with Hillary where he gets a job because he’d like to— ’’


GS should have interrupted and asked: Do you have evidence that Bloomberg agreed to speak in exchange for a job in the Clinton administration? If Trump obfuscated (who, him?) or didn’t answer, GS should not have continued until he did answer. But the clock was ticking, and he moved on.

–Trump all but accused Clinton of rigging the coming three televised Presidential debates so that two would air against highly popular NFL games, implying she was fearful of losing and wanted as few voters a possible to see her face Trump: “You know, Hillary wants to be against the NFL—”


GS should have cut in and demanded that Trump cite his evidence. But he didn’t.

–When GS brought up the anti-Trump Dem convention speech of Khizr Kahn, whose Army captain son, Humayun, died in Iraq, Trump asked, “Who wrote that? Did Hillary’s script writer write it? Everybody—”


GS should have asked Trump for evidence to support his message that someone in the Clinton camp had written Khizr Kahn’s heartfelt speech. But he didn’t, instead letting Trump ramble on and leave behind his usual dungy trail of nasty innuendo.

Trump appears to have a very limited vocabulary and little command of the language. But the one word he’ll understand is the one he never hears.



I’ve been wall to wall with the GOP and Democratic conventions, and here is how the media shake out.

Throughout modern history, we’ve heard from movie critics, theater critics, music critics, dance critics, media critics, literary critics, architecture critics, culture critics, food critics and critics of critics. Have I omitted any? Oh, yes, inane and blustery (blush) TV critics.

Now it’s come down to this. TV anchors, reporters and commentators—mentally twiddling their thumbs as the two major parties execute their camera-ready stagecraft—have evolved into an arcane new species.

Speech critics.

Yes, thumbs up/thumbs down political journalists who generate blurbs as if writing for movie ads: glorious, superb, breathtaking, beautifully expressed, loved it. And slams, too, of course, with pundits and other Great Minds informing you if the podium speeches you watched were good or bad, electrifying or dull, effective or ineffective. As if you had to be told.

Take Tuesday night’s Dem headliner Bill Clinton. I experienced his speech from the perspective of someone who would rather Hillary possess the nuclear codes than hair-trigger Trumpet. It’s not that I don’t favor eliminating ISIS, only that I’d prefer not eliminating the entire planet at the same time.

Bill Clinton 3

So, I found Clinton’s speech masterfully written and delivered—sweet and personal leading to a big-bang payoff—however much of it may have been embroidered or flat-out erroneous. C’mon, I want her to win. So if the goal was to soften his wife’s image and show her “other side,” he nailed it.

I thought.

Though most of the reviews were positive, the beginning that I liked (“In the spring of 1971, I met a girl…”), a few speech critics didn’t dig at all. Several felt dwelling on the Clintons’ courtship was “risky,” given his famous philandering.

Not that assessing these speeches as entertainment value has a place in news.

Much of media see all of this as a kind of show biz, and approach it that way. MSNBC’s Chris Matthews can be an enjoyable hoot, for example. But you wanted to slap a strait jacket on him the way he raved about the Trumpet propaganda video at last week’s GOP convention, going on and on about Jon Voight’s narration, and again pounding that theme late Tuesday night after Clinton’s speech.

His is not the only media pulse pounding like a Tom Tom these days.

Yet the GOP and Democratic nominating conventions are rarely more than tailored-for-TV-and-iPad infomercials, and their speakers as much gussied-up  hucksters as Matthew McConaughey in a Lincoln. All of it is self-serving propaganda.

Nothing is written in stone about media being responsible for giving presidential candidates “bounce” in the polls via free exposure at these partisan extravaganzas.

Nonetheless, these suckers are covered live and lavishly like the blockbuster news events they aren’t, when, with a few obvious exceptions, a 90-second daily TV summary and half column of newspaper or Internet space plus a few photos would suffice. For junkies, there’s always gavel-to-gavel no-frills coverage on C-SPAN.

One speech that hardly merited live coverage in its marathon entirety was Clinton’s Hillary toast. You couldn’t have detected news in it even with a Geiger counter. Nor much breaking news of any kind in both conventions.

Good people disagree about whether the present system of having state primaries and caucuses cumulatively pick major party presidential nominees is better or worse than the combustible oldies where choices for the top job were dictated by wheeling, dealing party leaders. What would the Bernie-or-busters say about that?

I’m no nostalgia-nik. But oh, for the good old days when these suckers were shows you could count on, a real rumble of action and insults, several days of suspenseful infighting over naming the party’s standard-bearer.

That hasn’t happened for years. Let’s see, what was that guy’s name, Grover Cleveland?

But seriously…it is true that no convention since 1952 has gone past the first ballot. Not for decades, in fact, has there been a truly definitive one whose top nominee was not taken for granted in advance. Whose undecided delegates truly made a difference. Whose TV interviews had relevance beyond filling time and justifying the expense of mounting this absurd level of coverage.

As for this month, my blurb: Enough already.

Rosenbeast Returns

We’re b-a-a-a-a-a-ck.

Rosenbeast and the board of directors (see Bio) have been on hiatus, and now we’re back—smarter, smirkier, smuttier, smellier and—obviously—as alliterative as ever.

And more angry.

Election Outrage: I’m not just pissed at the Clintons; I’m white-hot furious!  Just livid that their bullshit blunders and appalling judgement have widened a path for a pitch-dark, know-nothing, predatory carnivore to become our next President.

Is this really happening or just another bad Hollywood script? If only…

Hillary and Donald

Despite her own sinkhole flaws, Hillary Clinton should be leading that dangerous dingbat Donald Trump in the polls by half a mile, not half a head. And even that thin margin may be kayoed by the latest one-two punch of Bill Clinton’s outrageous private chat with Atty. Gen. Loretta Lynch followed by FBI Director James B. Comey citing Hillary’s “extremely careless” handling of classified information on her private email account.

She may avoid criminal prosecution but not prosecution in the court of public opinion, as voters decide between a congenital liar in Trumpet and a selective liar in Hillary.

My God, what lack of character and, most surprisingly, incredible stupidity. The Clintons are supposed to be plenty smart. But how smart do they look now? And how deceitful?

Self-serving Plug: I am now writing short stories for Nikki Finke’s website, My first title to land, “Paradise,” is very dark. Coming: “A Killer Review,” less dark. In progress: “Law & Disorder,” spun from my ongoing addiction to “Law & Order” reruns. Rehab hasn’t worked. After all these years, I’m still hooked and helpless to resist.

“Life on Speed”: That’s the title of a book Charles Feldman and I are researching. It’s our second book about the Internet, but this time a pavement’s-eye-perspective of its impact on everyday society.

Not on government and other big institutions—that’s been done. But on ordinary individuals. We’re collecting personal stories of how the Internet impacts you—the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker. In other words, if it changes the way you live your life and/or do your job—for better or for worse.

We’re especially interested in ways the Internet’s blazing speed alters society. On a macro level, it’s changed the world. But what about the individual? Has our sped-up, revved-up cosmos changed your life in any way?

If you have a story to tell, here’s your chance. I’m listening.


What stands tallest in news, the message or the messenger? These days it’s a toss-up.

Meet the latest addition to media’s Mount Rushmore.  Actually, you already have. So ubiquitous is she, how could you not? In case you’ve spent the year hermetically sealed in the Middle-earth, though, try this:

Anchors a week-night newscast. Check. Smart, articulate, quick witted. Check. Blonde charisma galore. Check. Laser blues with lots of lash. Check. Face of Fox News, talk shows and magazine covers. Check. Soon-to-be author of a memoir sold to HarperCollins for a reported $10 million. Check.

And Tuesday night she’ll head her own prime-time special, boasting a marquee sit-down with of all people, the famously flawed and offensive Trumpet. You remember him, the insult geyser who ballooned her already thriving career into something much, much HUGER!!!!!

Our sympathies; cosmic fame is a heavy burden. Yet she appears to be adapting nicely. The title of her Fox special is Megyn Kelly Presents. A more accurate title:

Megyn Kelly Presents Megyn Kelly.

These are amazing times for journalists in an election season conferring celebrity on many of the used-to-be anonymous.  For that we can thank ever-orbiting social media and cable news channels that fill their gaping news holes with panels of pundits titled “contributors.”  The result is not just endless repetitive chatter—the same people jawing about the same people—but also fame for the conga line of participants, most of them once-obscure ink-stained wretches now queueing for their close-ups.

Kelly beams high wattage in this expanding galaxy of star media, a phenomenon that is worrisome. Anchors and other celebrity journalists flourish largely because of their stature as personalities, the problem coming when their renown overshadows the news they cover. And it often does.

Here was the headline on a Yahoo News account of a recent Kelly interview whose subject, Dan Patrick, didn’t make the cut: “Megan Kelly Hits Hard Against Texas Lt.  Governor Over Trans Bathroom Laws.”

Tom Grunick2As Aaron Altman, the newsroom conscience of James Brooks’ film, “Broadcast News,” says sarcastically, “Let’s never forget, we’re the real story, not them.”
“Broadcast News” is a needle in the eye, its mocking of the ego and ethical values of TV news as relevant now as when the movie was released in 1987.  In one pivotal sequence, the network’s Washington anchor Tom Grunick (William Hurt) wraps a live report following a swiftly resolved military flare-up between the U.S. and Libya, assuring viewers, “I think we’re okay.”

Whereupon his bureau chief mutters: “Who the hell cares what you think.”

In other words, messengers should stay the hell out of their stories, a commandment that benefits everyone. In fact, just the presence of a celebrity journalist can intrude, especially in interviews when the high profile of the questioner threatens to overshadow the interviewee.

Anderson Cooper4

That’s certainly so with CNN star Anderson Cooper, whom a recent poll found to be the nation’s most recognizable newscaster. And no wonder; the guy is everywhere. He’s had his own syndicated daytime talk show. He’s on “60 minutes” in addition to anchoring a weeknight prime-time newscast and hosting most of CNN’s special events, including its giggly annual New Year’s Eve bash with comic Kathy Griffin. Prior to this election season, he would cap each newscast with The Ridiculist, an infantile comedy monologue that stomped on a new hapless schnook each night. And he’s published two memoirs.

There’s a reason why news anchors from San Diego to Slippery Rock are paid more than everyone else on the staff, and it’s not because they are smarter or better journalists. Don’t be shocked if the opposite is true. I know Los Angeles anchors who have had a pretty fair day when they get their shoes tied in the morning.

Newscasts, both national and local, have always been built largely on personalities, with focus groups and other high-priced audience research put in as bricks and mortar.

Back in the day, that Cro-Magnon Walter Cronkite was paid top dollar by CBS News not because he parachuted over Normandy with U.S. troops during World War II. He became the nation’s Uncle Walter—a must watch—because he was magnificently avuncular, something indefinable in his face, voice and manner earning America’s trust.

He, too, was the personification of celebrity. As was ABC News icon Barbara Walters, whose tell-all celebrity chats in prime time generated giant ratings along with tears. I once proposed a new show  titled “Me,” in which a different celebrity would interview her each week. Tonight, Julia Roberts shares secrets about Barbara’s life, loves, secrets and regrets.

All of that is quaint measured against the ego journalism epitomized by media-blitzing Kelly. In the grand tradition of celebrities, she is completing a week-long press tour promoting her prime-time special that The Los Angeles Times splashed across the front page of Sunday Calendar, selling the “Kelly-Trump show” as a clash of titans ala David Frost quizzing Richard Nixon in 1977.


What’s next for Kelly?  No one has said, but don’t rule out “Dancing with the Stars.”










In the coming months, you will hear much about internecine squabbles over the 2016 Republican and Democratic Party platforms. With much media fanfare, these mission statements (This is what we absolutely stand for but not necessarily…) are created every four years by party nobility during their national conventions to name a presidential ticket.

This year’s noise has already begun, amplified by Bernie Sanders threatening a floor fight should he not be fairly represented on the Dems standing committees that codify the party’s plank and convention rules (who will speak and for how long?).  And like a drum roll at a public execution, this low hum will build toward a deafening crescendo at nominating galas where media hordes will gather in hopes of witnessing mayhem.

Major media’s biggest nightmare: they spend big bucks to mobilize for pandemonium at each convention, and oh, m’God, orderliness breaks out.

As if platforms mattered, by the way.

Pop quiz:

Name one plank in the 2012 Republican or Democratic Party platform. Not the entire platform, one plank. C’mon, smarty pants, one itsy bitsy crummy plank. Even one itsy bitsy crummy sliver of one itsy bitsy crummy plank.

Can you do it?

Uh-huh. As I thought, you have no clue. Nor did I until consulting Google.

That’s because party platforms are meaningless throwaways. That will be the case even if the Dems, for example, do officially endorse Bernie’s call for a $15 federal minimum wage and sweeping campaign finance reform. The reality: platforms are obscure political footnotes suitable for archives, scrapbooks and lining the bottoms of bird cages.  They’re swept from memory as soon as they are officially rubber stamped by their respective parties. After which, off they go to the attic, where they sit in the dust beside other abandoned platitudes, as deprived of sunlight as Miss Havisham’s chalky wedding table in “Great Expectations.” In other words, you have to part the cobwebs to find them.

So why all the fuss? Because, with few exceptions, fuss is the adrenalin of this millennium’s Internet-driven, social media-nourished journalism. And conflict is the fuel of fuss.

So beware: if Trumpet and the GOP are somehow reborn as Mister Rogers Neighborhood and the Dems’ Band of Bernies discovers serenity, expect media to fill the conflict void with party planks fought over by party hacks.


SPEAKING OF CONFLICT…I had a spirited chat with a very bright conservative Republican about the toxic campaign atmosphere. Yes, he was distressed by his party’s farcical 2016, but adamant: if required to choose between Hillary Clinton and the GOP’s last standing kazoo, put him down for the kazoo.

No, he doesn’t like Trumpet, but would take anyone over Hillary, whom he really, really despises, echoing a visceral response to her shared by many others that is rarely based on anything rational or specific.

Which I find boggling.

Dislike her policies, dislike her judgment, dislike her troubling lack of candor, dislike her body language, dislike her voice, dislike her responses to her husband’s diddling, dislike her.  And boy, oh boy, the woman cannot tell a joke. I get all of that.

But flat-out hatred? As if she were the Lucifer of 2016? This level of animosity transcends partisanship and policy disagreements. Its origins are organic, a revulsion rising from deep within that only a shrink could comprehend.

As for revulsion, I told my friend that even if Trumpet were a Democrat who shared my lefty ideals, I would not vote for him. Not because he is intellectually lazy, which he is. Not because he is unprepared, which he is. Not because he is deceitful, which he is. Not because he’s predictably unpredictable, which he is. Not because he is a jerk, which, c’mon, you know he is.

cubanmissilecrisisBut definitely—slam dunk—because he is demonstrably, perilously unstable. I can envision many scenarios in which his presence in the Oval Office would be not just risky, but lethal. Flash back, for example, to the nail-biting JFK/Khrushchev stare-down during the 13-day Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962. Imagine if Trumpet had been President.

A chilling hypothetical, right? Which is why I’d vote for anyone, anyone over him.

Anyone? My GOP friend, knowing my political proclivity, threw out some names as a test:

Ted Cruz? Yes.

Carly Fiorina? Yes.

Richard Nixon? Yes.

George W. Bush? Yes.

Dick Cheney? Oh, boy…but yes.

No one likes a spoil sport. What about Trumpet the entertainer and showman, his pithy tweets and crowd-pleasing monologues that have even many in the media slapping their knees? Do we not all look forward to them? And are they not just a hoot?

On his good days, sure, which, when you think about it, carries its own risk.

In 1985, the great Neil Postman published a prescient book whose warning is relevant now to Americans and media swooning over the fun value of a certain presidential candidate. Its title:

“Amusing Ourselves to Death.”


Talk about backasswards, how revolutionary that Donald Trump became a serious candidate before becoming a serious person. Or trying to become one, like a 69-year-old on a bicycle for the first time.

Now that the 2016 primary election burlesque appears to have turned a sharp corner and veered toward possible resolution—cross your fingers—here is some of the debris.

After slogging through a transcript of the new, improved and Oval Office-ready Trumpet’s foreign policy speech, I’m now pretty sure why he wears his rock of hair in a sprayed-to-the hilt colossal comb-over.

To hide the lobotomy scar.

Yet it was striking how two mainstream papers I regularly read, the New York Times and Los Angeles Times, gave sober coverage to the speech as if Trumpet had inadvertently uttered something worth recalling.

NYT: Trump “gave a foreign policy speech Wednesday in Washington, shifting his focus to topics…”

Oh, please. This reminds me, once again, of hilarious radio satirists Bob and Ray providing meticulous, in-depth, step-by-step analysis of how to make a bologna sandwich. In Trumpet’s case, baloney.

The title of another Bob and Ray flight of fancy perfectly fits this election season’s exotic GOP universe.

Galaxy of the Baboons

It also epitomizes do-anything-to-get-noticed Yahoo News, which ran the following provocative banner over a story on April 20:

“Cruz rejects Canadian citizenship”

Accompanying this was a Ted Cruz photo with a cutline that read: “The 2016 presidential prospect’s origins have been under scrutiny lately.”


Hmmm. A little tardy in the campaign for that; Trumpet hadn’t questioned the Canadian-born Cruz’s birth qualifications for months.

Worse than tardy, it was a musty antique. The story, from Politico, originally ran Aug. 20, 2013. That made it nearly three years old, the kind of footnote that doesn’t concern Yahoo News in its self-serving pursuit of clicks.

Just as honesty is often a casualty—flicked away like lint from a lapel—in candidates’ quest for votes.  And that goes for both major parties.

All right, I get it; emails, shmemails. But puleeeeeze, Madam Secretary, if you’re so Holy Hillary with your pockets turned out and nothing hidden, so pristine and sparkly, do the right and honorable thing, even if it means walking the plank. Give a nod to good old Bernie and share transcripts of your big-bucks speeches to Wall Streeters. Don’t flim flam and obfuscate like an octopus fleeing from peril behind a cloud of ink.

Carly Fiorina picSpeaking of that, this week’s GOP headliners also gave us Flim and Flam in the persons of Cruz and his new best pal Carley Fiorina. There he was anointing Fiorina as his running mate on a fantasy GOP ticket he is likely to head only if the election is held on Pluto.

This is the same Fiorina who said of him earlier, when she, too, was seeking the top job: “Ted is just like any other politician; he says whatever he needs to say to get elected.”

Exactly. Yet she’s now salivating all over the guy. When a TV reporter asked Fiorina to reconcile her conflicting public statements about Cruz, she replied (and I’m paraphrasing): candidates say things in the heat of battle, and it’s no big deal.

The obvious follow-up: Then, Ms. Fiorina, you were disingenuous or lying when, with notable passion and ferocity, you earlier aimed those negatives at Cruz? If so, why should we believe you now?

But it wasn’t asked.

Cruz kidsAs if summoned from central casting, Cruz’s two young daughters again spent time on the stump with him and his wife. The girls are not only humanizing for a candidate whose humanity is largely elusive, they’re a pair of adorable cuties whose presence raises an issue that applies to candidates of both major parties. You know, the multitudes who shade the truth and sometimes flat-out lie to gain advantage in the pornography of politics.

Let’s assume the Bible-thumping Cruzes are virtuous parents who try mightily to instill in their girls such high-minded values as the Golden Rule and so on and so on, including DO NOT LIE!  If that is the case, how does Cruz justify suspending those noble values in service of personal ambition?

Do as I say, girls, not as I do?

I believe that’s called hypocrisy.

Attaching an exclamation mark to the week, a freshly exalted Fiorina pandered her way into the hearts of Cruz supporters by singing a song to his daughters. The bizarre scene illustrated why “Saturday Night Live” parodies of the candidates often fail. They’re redundant because the candidates themselves are parodies.

Send in the baboons. Don’t bother, they’re already here.




















Like many of you, I’ve been tethered to the battle for delegates en route to Tuesday’s pivotal New York primary—and repulsed.

The screeching vitriol, the screaming distortions, the self-centric bloviating, the relentless indecency, the fantastical illusions, the outrageous deceptions, the defamatory hocus-pocus, the cold-hearted treachery, the shameless bamboozling, the scandalous duplicity and, my God, the flat-out lies.

But enough about the media.


In the crosshairs here: Yahoo.

Britain’s Daily Mail is said to be interested in buying financially challenged Yahoo. And why not? The two tabloids are highly compatible in tone: the Daily Mail is famously sensationalist, and Yahoo’s mostly low-brow home page is to news and ethics what Trumpet and Lyin’ Ted are to truth:

Any similarity is purely coincidental.

Yahoo maintains a boutique reporting staff along with $10 million-a-year Katie Couric, hired for star power and her potential to score high-profile interviews. Yahoo is an overwhelmingly aggregate operation, though. It poaches news and fluff from other sources for display on a homepage dotted, notes The Los Angeles Times, with “must-click crime stories, scintillating celebrity gossip and self-help items.”

And oh, yes, rampant fabrication and other crapola.

Dandruff Kills Family of Five

20 Ways to Pick Your Nose

All right, the above is hyperbole. But only slight hyperbole.

Yahoo is not just list-laden, it reeks of lists. Just today—and this is on the level—I came across 7 Actors That Are Actually Really Short. Which I was about to click on when I encountered The 13 Highest Paid Football Managers in the World. Information I’d been dying to know, but then my eye caught 8 Nail Clippers to Keep Your Nails in Tip Top Shape. Which I was about to explore until diverted by 3 Myths about Grief That Need to be Busted. Heart thumping, I would have clicked immediately had I not sighted Seattle’s Essential Brunch Restaurants.

I wonder if they offer highchairs for really short actors.

Well, you get the idea.

Nor does Yahoo take a back seat to any tabloid when it comes to outright deceit.

It reported recently that Trader Joe’s would close all its stores and discontinue its brand products in 2017.  A Trader Joe’s regular, I let out a yelp. Though posted March 31, the 600-word faux story turned out to be an April Fools’ joke.

How was anyone to know? Every day is April Fools’ at Yahoo.

On Friday, it ran this headline advertising a story about Los Angeles Lakers superstar Kobe Bryant signing fellow players’ sneakers as part of his marathon retirement ritual:

Kobe Bryant Threw Away Nick Young’s Sneakers in the trash instead of signing…

It looked like a snub, a cruel affront.  How could you, Kobe? When I clicked on the headline I learned that Bryant did, indeed, trash Young’s shoes—but then gave him a new pair that he subsequently signed.

Yahoo has a voracious appetite for the hateful. Flash back to Jan. 11 when it dangled this election-season carrot in front of readers:

Police Find Candidate’s Wife on the Side of the Road

Who wouldn’t bite on a headline this provocative? I sure did, and when clicking on it I learned it was accurate. The story, from BuzzFeed News, referred to Cruz’s, wife, Heidi, during a bout with depression, being found “sitting with her head in her hands” on a grassy area by an expressway in Austin, Tex.

In 2005.


Yahoo also swirls together news, commentary and ads into a single cocktail that blurs lines. This was typical:

Clinton’s email excuses are falling apart

The headline topped an unlabeled commentary by Washington Post columnist Marc A. Thiessen slid between news stories.

As was this one above an unlabeled Washington Post commentary: Hillary Clinton, blind to her own greed, makes another blunder

Yahoo is also notorious for its dishonest use of photos out of context.

Watch Hillary Clinton Completely Fall Apart Onstage shouted a headline that put a negative spin on a photo of her (eyes closed, face anguished) that appeared with a report from saying she fumbled an answer to a question from Anderson Cooper during a CNN town hall telecast.

Perhaps she did. But the photo was unrelated to the question.

Elevating malicious to an art form, Yahoo used a photo of Clinton appearing disinterested, even bored under a headline referring to a campaign event: Hillary to Black Woman’s Question: Why don’t you go run for something?

One problem: the photo was from her earlier appearance before the GOP-led House committee investigating the 2012 attack on the U.S. diplomatic and CIA compound in Benghazi, Libya.

Not that Yahoo is partisan.

In a victory speech after winning the Nevada caucuses, Trumpet called out the various demographic groups that pushed him over the top. Yahoo chose to highlight only the one that made him look bad.

Trump’s cry: “I love the poorly educated.”

I suspect Yahoo does, too. I’m making out a list of 10 credible sources for news. Yahoo is not on it.