Losing My Perspicacity, July 25, 2025

Good morning and Happy Friday! Thanks for starting your day with LMP.

For the third straight day, we’ve lost a Gen X icon. First, it was Malcolm-Jamal Warner, who rose to fame playing Theo on The Cosby Show. Then, it was Ozzy Osbourne, whom parents in the 80s legit thought was going to turn their kids into Satan worshippers. And yesterday morning, word came that Hulk Hogan, undoubtedly the most famous pro wrestler in history, had also died. I’d be remiss if I didn't also mention that Chuck Mangione also passed away yesterday, but I’m not sure he meant as much to Gen X, outside of how often we heard “Feels So Good” when at the grocery store with our mothers.

I wrote earlier in the week about how terrified kids were of Ozzy in the 80s, and how at odds our “satanic panic” fears were with who Ozzy Osbourne actually was — less prince of darkness, more a dad who just wanted quiet while he watched his programs. Hulk Hogan, on the other hand, was the opposite: A guy who was sold to us all as a hero and who turned out to be a union-busting, Trump-loving racist — things that are a far bigger danger to America than Satanism ever was.

As a kid, I got all fired up for a bout of Hulkamania like everyone else. I remember being very upset when Hulk was stretchered out of the arena after a showdown with King Kong Bundy. However, after working for G/O Media following the decimation of Gawker Media and seeing what Hogan’s lawsuit (bankrolled by Peter Thiel) against the company wrought, I have nothing good to say about the man, who cost hundreds of people their jobs and changed journalism for the worse. Hogan also wasn’t that great of a wrestler — certainly a lesser athlete than guys like Bret “The Hitman” Hart, “Macho Man” Randy Savage, and Ricky Steamboat. And he couldn’t touch Roddy Piper on the mic.

What many non-wrestling fans don’t know about Hogan is that he tattled on his colleagues to their employer, Vince McMahon, when they attempted to unionize, something pro wrestling still desperately needs, to protect his own money and his place at the top of the WWE roster. Later, Hogan’s devotion to Donald Trump’s “me first, me only” politics would become obvious, but it came as somewhat of a surprise to his co-workers back in 1986.

Hogan was also a virulent racist, the most “Florida Man” to ever Florida Man. Here’s what Jospephine Riesman, who wrote the definitive biography of Vince McMahon in 2023, wrote about Hogan over at The Handbasket yesterday:

Hogan went on to say worse, but I refuse to put that kind of garbage in LMP.

Last year, Hogan spoke at the Republican National Convention, his “I am a real American” line taking on a sinister edge, given the “Mass Deportations Now!” signs attendees brandished throughout the event. Turns out Hogan only ever cared about all the little, white “Hulkamaniacs out there.”

You could not have convinced me at 8 years old that, some day, I’d be sad to see Ozzy Osbourne go and I’d feel nothing but “good riddance” for the Hulkster’s passing, but here we are. Hogan is a masterclass in “never meeting your heroes,” learning about their politics, or finding out what their colleagues think of them. Terry Bollea (Hogan’s real name) was not a good person, and he certainly wasn’t the “Say your prayers and eat your vitamins!” guy we were told he was. In the end, Bollea was just another white guy willing to hook his wagon to a fascist if it meant protecting what he saw as “his.”

As a child, I worshipped Hogan. As an adult, I think I’ll stick with Ozzy.

Today: South Park gets revenge for the Paramount rank and file; Jerome Powell fact-checks Trump in real time; LA grand juries are refusing to indict protesters; and The High Note.

Here we go.

Bravo, South Park

My opinion on South Park changes depending on the most recent episode. I’ll never forget watching their early years — from Mr. Hanky to Terrance and Phillip to the Canadian Royal Wedding — but somewhere along the way, the politics got meaner (more white male libertarian) and I eventually tuned out. However, I did pop back in for episodes like the epic takedown of Scientology and the NFL.

But I’ll hand it to Trey Parker and Matt Stone, they really had the back of their colleagues at Paramount/CBS with this most recent episode.

And this is how the episode ends (Content warning: male frontal nudity; Donald Trump’s male frontal nudity):

The episode is still available for now, although I don’t know how long it will remain so. Suffice it to say that the episode goes hard (and graphic) on the reported size and shape of Trump’s penis. I usually decry every use of AI, but in this case, I’m willing to make an exception.

Comedy Central, which carries South Park, is also owned by Paramount, and people suggested that the Paramount merger with Skydance would blow up after the episode aired. Unfortunately, it went through yesterday afternoon.

Meanwhile, the White House issued a statement that sounds big mad:

Given that Parker and Stone just inked a new deal with Paramount worth an estimated $1.5 billion, South Park seems pretty relevant.

Let Jerome Powell fact-check Trump on everything

Trump loves to talk shit about people to the media, but he always caves when standing right next to them. Take Federal Reserve Chairman Jerome Powell, who Trump keeps threatening to fire and whom he called “a numbskull” just last week.

Yesterday, Trump appeared alongside Powell while blathering on about the “overrun” in the cost of renovations at The Fed. Of course, Trump had his information wrong, and it took Powell about two seconds to debunk Trump’s stupid claims.

Tim Scott (R- SC) is only too happy to try to help Trump throw Powell under the bus, but Powell, who is smarter than both of them put together, takes one look at Trump’s information and points out that the pair is including the cost of an already-built office building in the “renovations.” Powell’s face throughout the entire exchange is so relatable. He’s so done with having to answer to this overcooked winter vegetable.

If Jerome Powell gets fired, maybe we can add him to the White House Press Corps? We could really use him.

LA feds are having a hard time getting indictments

If only every city in America could pull together the way Los Angeles has. Not only have they banded together to harass ICE, but they are also refusing to return indictments against protestors.

The old axiom “you can indict a ham sandwich” is true. Prosecutors nearly always get indictments from grand juries, and, when they don’t, it’s usually by design — for example, when a grand jury didn’t return an indictment against the police who killed Breonna Taylor. Prosecutors not getting indictments when they want them is exceedingly rare.

Keep in mind, grand juries only have to find probable cause that a crime took place, they don’t get anywhere near the reasonable doubt standard of a criminal trial. Most of the evidence in a grand trial comes from testimony by police or other law enforcement, so juries are flat-out refusing to believe what cops are telling them. And with good reason.

Anyone who has been a public defender can tell you that cops do this kind of thing all the time, believing their word is unassailable. Good on the LA grand juries for seeing through the subterfuge.

God, I love LA.

The High Note

Each Day, I do my best to leave you with a smile on your face, a song in your heart, and the will to fight another day.

Please enjoy this group of kids playing “Crazy Train” for Ozzy on xylophones.

Survive and advance out there today. Don’t let the bastards get you down. And have a great weekend!