Gawdzilla Sama
TImeToSweepTheLeg
Exactly. Somebody actually gets it. Errr.
Because Fox are reliably liars, it's wrong. Get that?
Exactly. Somebody actually gets it. Errr.
To be fair, I'm not sure you should represent all of Fox News by the nonsense on Fox and Friends. They're kinda the special needs class of Fox News high school.
It's closer to "Because Fox, the facts are wrong."
So just an ad hominem, then?
Have you actually read the thread and the linked material?
Virtually nothing about the OP's claims is true.
Serious question: Have you ever watched Fox and Friends?
Virtually nothing about the OP's claims is true.
The facts aren't wrong because Fox says them. Fox says those facts because those facts are wrong. They're the perfect embodiment of "I reject your reality and substitute my own."
Except that this doesn't seem to be what happened in this particular case.
Still trying to make somebody believe that? If you find one, let me know, I've got this bridge in Brooklyn to sell.
Don't you understand? The LSU finance professor later retracted his boneheaded comments, and even though Kilmeade and the rest of the mouthbreathers on "Fox and Friends" didn't retract anything, that means the whole clip linked in the OP is retroactively and entirely erased from history and therefore never happened in the first place.
Really? I would have guessed that the entire high school is a special needs school. Certainly O'Reilly and Hannity belong in that class.
Look...Rogers was evil...but he was the awesome kind of evil!
That's "gilley", not "guile". Politicians wear guile suits.Look...Rogers was evil...but he was the awesome kind of evil!
We all know he was a tattooed freak* that killed a whole bunch of Nazis/Japs/Koreans/Vietcong* while he served as a Marine sniper*, hence having to wear long sleeve shirts on TV*. Then he was thrown in prison* to take the rap for his brother* who was some sort of child molester*, and as part of his probation*, he couldn't directly work with kids*, so he invented the puppets*. The original puppets he made were from the hides of baby seals* that he shot with his sniper rifle* that he smuggled out of the military*. Plus, all of his sweaters were hand woven by illegal Mexicans* that he kidnapped himself* and forced to live under the studio*. His signature song, "Won't You Be My Neighbor?", was realized as Rogers lay in silence while he stalked the Tex/Mex border* draped in nothing but a guile suit and live scorpions*.
Dude, the guy is a legend!
*[citation needed]
That's "gilley", not "guile". Politicians wear guile suits.
They're the perfect embodiment of "I reject your reality and substitute my own."
In 1969, Rogers appeared before the United States Senate Subcommittee on Communications. His goal was to support funding for PBS and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, in response to significant proposed cuts. In about six minutes of testimony, Rogers spoke of the need for social and emotional education that public television provided. He passionately argued that alternative television programming like his Neighborhood helped encourage children to become happy and productive citizens, sometimes opposing less positive messages in media and in popular culture. He even recited the lyrics to one of his songs.
The chairman of the subcommittee, John O. Pastore, was not previously familiar with Rogers' work, and was sometimes described as impatient. However, he reported that the testimony had given him goosebumps, and declared, "I think it's wonderful. Looks like you just earned the $20 million." The subsequent congressional appropriation, for 1971, increased PBS funding from $9 million to $22 million.[
Mister Rogers' Neighborhood won four Emmy awards, and Rogers himself was presented with a Lifetime Achievement Award at the 1997 Daytime Emmys, as described by Esquire's Tom Junod:
Mister Rogers went onstage to accept the award — and there, in front of all the soap opera stars and talk show sinceratrons, in front of all the jutting man-tanned jaws and jutting saltwater bosoms, he made his small bow and said into the microphone, "All of us have special ones who have loved us into being. Would you just take, along with me, ten seconds to think of the people who have helped you become who you are. Ten seconds of silence."
And then he lifted his wrist, looked at the audience, looked at his watch, and said, "I'll watch the time." There was, at first, a small whoop from the crowd, a giddy, strangled hiccup of laughter, as people realized that he wasn't kidding, that Mister Rogers was not some convenient eunuch, but rather a man, an authority figure who actually expected them to do what he asked. And so they did. One second, two seconds, three seconds — and now the jaws clenched, and the bosoms heaved, and the mascara ran, and the tears fell upon the beglittered gathering like rain leaking down a crystal chandelier. And Mister Rogers finally looked up from his watch and said softly "May God be with you," to all his vanquished children.
Visually, the presentation of the show was very simple, and it did not feature the animation or fast pace of other children's shows, which Rogers thought of as "bombardment".[3] Rogers also believed in not acting out a different persona on camera compared to how he acted off camera, stating that "One of the greatest gifts you can give anybody is the gift of your honest self. I also believe that kids can spot a phony a mile away."[22] Rogers composed almost all of the music on the program.[note 1] He wanted to teach children to love themselves and others, and he addressed common childhood fears with comforting songs and skits. For example, one of his famous songs explains how a child cannot be pulled down the bathtub drain because he or she will not fit. He even once took a trip to the Children's Hospital of Pittsburgh to show children that a hospital is not a place to fear.
In the mid-1980s, the Burger King fast-food chain lampooned Rogers' image with an actor called "Mr. Rodney", imitating Rogers' television character.[23] Rogers found the character's pitching fast food as confusing to children, and called a press conference in which he stated that he did not endorse the company's use of his character or likeness (Rogers did no commercial endorsements of any kind throughout his career, though over the years he acted as a pitchman for several non-profit organizations dedicated to learning). The chain publicly apologized for the faux pas, and pulled the ads.[24] By contrast, Fred Rogers found Eddie Murphy's parody of his show on Saturday Night Live, "Mister Robinson's Neighborhood," amusing and affectionate, which was also initially broadcast at a time of night when his own child audience was not likely to see it
During the controversy surrounding the introduction of the household VCR, Rogers was involved in supporting the manufacturers of VCRs in court. His 1979 testimony in the case Sony Corp. of America v. Universal City Studios, Inc. noted that he did not object to home recording of his television programs, for instance, by families in order to watch together at a later time. This testimony contrasted with the views of others in the television industry who objected to home recording or believed that devices to facilitate it should be taxed or regulated.
The Supreme Court considered the testimony of Rogers in its decision that held that the Betamax video recorder did not infringe copyright. The Court stated that his views were a notable piece of evidence "that many [television] producers are willing to allow private time-shifting to continue"
Also of note: Fred Rogers was a Presbyterian minister