Jeffery Toobin single-handedly got himself jerked off the staff writers list at The New Yorker last week for, well, booming while Zooming.
Worse, Toobin, with a mere flick of the wrist, has given new meaning to the TV phrase “two-shot” for not understanding that manual override meant shutting off the camera and not engaging in a self-guided tour.
Thus (the ancient) magazine The New Yorker, neither wanting to get pulled into a sticky back-and-forth with now online only Playboy as the publication of choice for finding Nemo, nor wanting its publisher to be referred to as Condee Nasty, jettisoned the nearsighted (self-induced?) Toobin like well-shucked corn.
Meanwhile back at CNN, Jeff “Mother” Zucker has yet to get his hands around the Toobin problem, given that he already has one anchor who allegedly stuck his crotch-scented fingers into a bartender’s nose, another who is a glorified hypocrite with delusions of competence, and a third who is the poor little rich kid whose only salient characteristic otherwise would have him hawking plastic bags as the new Man From Glad.
So what is Zucker, the dwarf-king of “news,” and CNN’s self-styled answer to Yoda, going to do?
Perhaps he could repackage Toobin as the host of something other than a legal show. That would surely be a handy way to tickle Yoda behind his ears!
Think of the possibilities!
A Toobin-hosted gastronomy show like the one of the late Anthony Bourdain’s, “Parts Unknown.”
It could echo the former by calling it “Jeffery Toobin’s Parts Well-Known,” and it could feature episodes like “Crushing the Carrot” or “Cooking the Cucumber” or “Making Waffles,” or “Cream Soups are Mmm, Mmm, Good!”
Or Mother Zucker could palm him off as the host of a wildlife show: “Jeffery Toobin’s Vile Kingdom,” with episodes like “Marching the Penguin,” “Playing with the Porpoise” or given the season, “Making the Wild Turkey Gobble.”
But then too, Mother Zucker could relieve the problem at hand by giving Toobin a legal show: “Badgering the Witness!”
Alas, perhaps the best title would be the eponymous phrase for properly dealing with Toobin’s incredibly gross stupidity in the first place: “Punching The Clown.”