Tag Archives: MAFIA

LIONEL PODCAST: My Interview With Pete Barbutti, Tonight Show and Vegas Legend

The days of magic. Pete Barbutti was a regular feature of the The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson
and I loved him when I was a kid. He’s an incredible jazz pianist as well as a multi-instrumented master of the accordion (or “cordine” as he was wont to say) and trumpet. His sense of humor was twisted, off beat, skewed and I howled. In many ways he cemented my skewed view of the world. Thanks to YouTube I can watch him again. And again. He represents to me a time when variety shows ruled, when they were simply glorious. When talent ruled supreme, when unique personality and charm and wit were the reason for the return visit. When people were famous not just for being famous. When comics weren’t deliberately filthy. When coprolalic rants and F-bomb sorties weren’t a substitution for wit. In this podcast Pete Barbutti mentions a great line from Buddy Hackett, who said (and I paraphrase): If it’s funny it’s not dirty and if it’s dirty it’s not funny. Hear! Hear!

The Magic of Vegas. Pete Barbutti recounts the days of Howard Hughes and when the “boys” ran the Vegas. It’s not just a nostalgic reminiscence, it’s the detailing of history. Our history. American history. And Pete Barbutti was and is a critical character in the history and recordation of American variety.

LIONEL PODCAST: Bilderberg, Anyone?

Ask anyone what they think about Bilderberg and they’ll invariably respond with a querical look and a “What the hell are you talking about?” Is it a pastry, a blimp or yet another newly identified part of the female anatomy? For years folks denied the mere existence of Bilderberg but now they’ve relented and even have their own website. Remember Pilger’s law: “If it’s been officially denied, then it’s probably true.” They’re meeting from June 9-12 at the Suvretta House hotel in St. Moritz. And unlike Davos or world economic fora or G8 conclaves and summits, Bilderberg is top secret and has all the trappings of a group of folks whose presence they want to hide. And why’s that do you suppose?

For years the mainstream media have refused to so much as utter a peep about the Bilderbergers which did nothing but fuel additional scrutiny and suspicion. It’s the hoary axiom “If you’ve got nothing to hide then why all the fuss?” I’ve heard the almost Pavlovian obeisance in the form of suggesting it’s yet another conspiracy theory, which has become shorthand for “I don’t know what I’m talking about.” Others have expressed sincere concern as to whether the Logan Act has been violated. It reads in part as follows infra.

§ 953. Private correspondence with foreign governments.

Any citizen of the United States, wherever he may be, who, without authority of the United States, directly or indirectly commences or carries on any correspondence or intercourse with any foreign government or any officer or agent thereof, with intent to influence the measures or conduct of any foreign government or of any officer or agent thereof, in relation to any disputes or controversies with the United States, or to defeat the measures of the United States, shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than three years, or both.

This section shall not abridge the right of a citizen to apply himself, or his agent, to any foreign government, or the agents thereof, for redress of any injury which he may have sustained from such government or any of its agents or subjects.

1 Stat. 613, January 30, 1799, codified at 18 U.S.C. § 953 (2004).

All this secrecy reminds me of a certain “conference” that was held on November 14, 1957, at the home of mobster Joseph “Joe the Barber” Barbara in Apalachin, New York. It was heralded as a supreme Mafia conclave that was attended by approximately 100 Mafiosi from the United States, Canada, and Italy. As you may recall when the cops came a-calling they alleged Mafia honchos booked it into the woods.

In my evening commentary on PIX 11 News I am of but a handful of MSM types who even broach the subject of Bilderberg. And that’s literally all I do, viz. just asking questions as to who they are. No other international summit receives the security and secrecy that these folks do. Imagine if every year the NFL owners or Hollywood studio execs met in secret with almost military-strength security at hotels around the world. ESPN and People Magazine would be all over the story. Harvey Levin and TMZ would have reporters camped out 24/7. But these scaredy cat and worthless folks in the MSM, under strict orders to obfuscate and distract, never utter a peep even in passing. Nada. Niente. Yet they possess the elephantine juevos to look into the camera and bleat the constipated drone of how they bring us the world. Give me a break, Ted Baxter.

LIONEL AUDIO: Pond Scum John Edwards, The Man-Child Satyr & The Object Of My Ire. Plus Stuff.

The name. This thing of ours. Morte Alla Francia, Italia Anela!

I swear, they’re all crazy. And viewers. Ah, the price of fame. I’ve nailed down the ambulatory schizophrenic crowd and welcome them to my personality constituency. I explain.

Sleazebucket. And I’m disgusted with and by John Edwards: slimy, sleazy and sordid. Not to be confused with John Edward, the charlatan and fraud who talks to dead people and dupes bereaved family members that he’s talking to Uncle Ed. (There must be something about that name. Or variations thereof.)

To think that this rube might have been the Democratic Nominee for POTUS. That, if nominated and then found out, John McCain and Sarah Palin could have won. Mr. Potter as Prez, who is closer actuarially to death than most candidates, and Sister Sarah, the proverbial heartbeat away. They could have won. And while I’m no Dem or Republi-con — a registered Independent, to be frank — the thought of Sarah Palin sitting across from Putin causes me to shudder.

Systematic Approximation. And then there’s Big Sister Janet and the latest installment of her handiwork: If You See Something, Say Something. Not to be confused with “If You Love Somebody Set Them Free.” Ah, that Gordon Sumner, what a sage.