Meet Ken Perenyi, New American Hero Artist (NOT).

Meet Ken Perenyi, Unethical Dishonest Art Forger, with new unethical book out now - Could this book turn out to be another James Frey incident? One hopes the Lawyers vetted it well and I hope PEgasus knows what it is doing. PW adds: Most interesting is Perenyi’s description of his hangups with his own aging process and distressing his forgeries so that they might appear authentically weathered. Unfortunately, he never presents the reader with an authentic depiction of the mind of a pathological fraud. PW SAYS: Painter, draft dodger, and art world huckster Perenyi offers a facile, ghostwritten account of the ''glory'' (scare quotes intended) days of his 30-year career as an art forger. . ....In theory, there’s enough to this story to pique a discerning reader’s interest; on the page, however, Perenyi’s tale unravels with vacuous prose and a lack of self-awareness or genuine insight; he offers little more than rote, blow-by-blow accounts of his scandals. In the tradition of Frank Abagnale's ''Catch Me If You Can'', -- SEE? WHAT DID WE TELL YOU?!!! -- and certain to be an unethical and cockamamie bombshell for Pegasus Books and the MSM, here is the story of one of America's greatest yet unethical and dishonest -- let s be honest! -- art forgers. Some readers who don't care about ethics or honesty in America might be be captivated as they follow the development of this remarkable yet flawed talent over a 40-year career. Ghostwtitten by Allan Smithee. Perenyi, a Hungarian-American most likely, given his noble surname, barely finished ninth grade, but his ghostwriter (name withheld but mentioned in the book's acknowledgements page) illustrates how he became one of America’s top unethical dishonest art forgers. Thanks, -- we'll take a closer look at Ken Perenyi. We did a quick blog post on him last month, too. Thanks for using Who2! Elmyr (pronounced el-meer) de Hory was a notorious art forger of the 20th century. The flamboyant Hungarian claimed to have sold more than 1,000 fakes to galleries and museums around the world during his career. His insistence that he had passed off paintings by such artists as Picasso, Modigliani and Matisse caused a scandal in the world of art and its experts. After serving a jail sentence in Spain, De Hory later told his story with Clifford Irving in the 1969 book Fake! He committed suicide. CAVEAT EMPTOR illustrates how he became one of America’s top unethical dishonest art forgers. Why the culture that spawned him is now celebrating him as ''culture hero'' and ''celebrity'', with a movie option on the table as well, is beyond words. But this is America, and "catch me if you can" is the going motto, Madoff to Perenyi. Thing is Madoff got caught and charged (and sentenced), while Perenyi walked scot free. Hero artist he is now! Ouch. Unfortunately, Perenyi in his ghsotwritten "memori/confession" (scare quotes intended) never presents the reader with an authentic depiction of the mind of a pathological fraud, which is really what the book should have been all about. Wait for the movie, with Leonardo DiCaprio, right? "CAVEAT EMPTOR: The Secret [Ghostwritten] Life of an [Unethical, Dishonest] ]American 'Art' (scare quotes intended) Forger"

"CAVEAT EMPTOR: The Secret [Ghostwritten] Life of an [Unethical, Dishonest] ]American 'Art' (scare quotes intended) Forger"

Unconvicted because never charged yet fully admitting his past, American art forger Ken Perenyi's ghostwritten "memoir" (scare quotes intended) titled "CAVEAT EMPTOR: The Secret Life of an American Art Forger", the ghostwritten confessional tell-all of how a "tune in, turn on, drop out" high school kid from 1960s New Jersey learned to forge the great 19th century American artists and dupe the biggest auction houses and galleries in New York and London for 30 years without getting caught, was edited by Claiborne Hancock at Pegasus Books and agented by Don Fehr at Trident Media Group. Unfortunately, he never presents the reader with an authentic depiction of the mind of a pathological fraud, which is really what the book should have been all about. Wait for the movie, with Leonardo DeCaprio reprising his role as Frank, er, Ken Perenyi?

Perenyi, a Hungarian-American most likely, given his noble surname, barely finished ninth grade, but his ghostwriter (name withheld but mentioned in the book's acknowledgements page) illustrates how he became one of America’s top unethical dishonest art forgers. Why the culture that spawned him in now celebrating him as culture hero and celebrity, with a movie option on the table as well, is beyond words. But this is America, and "catch me if you can" is the going motto, Madoff to Perenyi. Thing is Madoff got caught and charged (and sentenced), while Perenyi walked scot free.

Born in 1949 in Hoboken, New Jersey, Ken Perenyi is a self-taught artist who painted his first pictures during the Summer of Love in 1967, having discovered an uncanny ability to intuitively grasp the aesthetic and technical aspects of the Old Masters. A series of fateful events resulted in what was to become a 30 year "career' as a professional and dishonest and unethical art forger. Today he operates his own studio in Madeira Beach, Florida where he lives single -- a confirmed bachelor -- and afraid of his own aging process and fearing death.

SNYNOPSIS: When Perenyi met Tony Masaccio, who lived in a building called the “Castle” near the author’s hometown of Fort Lee, N.J., he was a young uneducated and untutored guy, a blank slate just waiting for someone with chalk. The Castle was a center of cosmic energy where dozens of people showed up for Masaccio’s parties and long, lost weekends in the 1960s. When he discovered his talent for art, Tom Daly, a local artist, took Perenyi under his wing, sharing his artistic knowledge and encouraging his eager student to learn by copying great works. A book about Han van Meegeren, a Dutch art forger, taught the author the basic principles of forgery, and a job working for a conservator allowed him to hone his talents. Visits with Daly and Masaccio to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the auction rooms of New York City gave Perenyi all he needed to begin producing his “Flemish” paintings. He began with Dutch paintings and moved on to American art and then British sporting pictures. He never copied known works, but he developed an eye for what inspired the artists and created paintings that they could very well have done, always using authentic materials. His eager buyers ranged from local shops to the great auction houses of New York and London.

Some readers who don't care about ethics or honesty in America might be be captivated as they follow the development of this remarkable yet flawed talent over a 40-year career. Ghostwtitten by Allan Smithee.   BACKGROUNDER: Ten years ago, an FBI investigation in conjunction with the U.S. Attorney's Office in the Southern District of New York was about to expose a scandal in the art world that would have been front-page news in New York and London. After a trail of fake paintings of astonishing quality led federal agents to art dealers, renowned experts, and the major auction houses, the investigation inexplicably ended, despite an abundance of evidence collected. The case was closed and the FBI file was marked “exempt from public disclosure.”
Now that the statute of limitations on these crimes has expired and the case appears hermetically sealed shut by the FBI, this book, Caveat Emptor, is Ken Perenyi's confession. It is the story, in detail, of how he pulled it all off.
Glamorous stories of art-world scandal have always captured the public imagination. However, not since Clifford Irving's 1969 bestselling Fake has there been a story at all like this one. Caveat Emptor is unique in that it is the first and only book by and about America's first and only great art forger. And unlike other forgers, Perenyi produced no paper trail, no fake provenance whatsoever; he let the paintings speak for themselves. And that they did, routinely mesmerizing the experts in mere seconds.
In the tradition of Frank Abagnale's ''Catch Me If You Can'', -- SEE? WHAT DID WE TELL YOU?!!! -- and certain to be an unethical and cockamamie  bombshell for Pegasus Books and the MSM, here is the story of one of America's greatest yet unethical and dishonest -- let
s be honest! -- art forgers.

PW SAYS: Painter, draft dodger, and art world huckster Perenyi offers a facile, ghostwritten account of the ''glory'' (scare quotes intended) days of his 30-year career as an art forger. His story begins in “the Castle,” a dilapidated New Jersey estate inhabited by two beatnik artists who take in the younger Perenyi as one of their own. With his new mentors, Perenyi pays frequent visits to Max’s Kansas City and rubs shoulders with Warhol acolytes, inspiring him to try his hand at painting. Soon enough, he’s replicating 16th-century Flemish portraits, which he sells to antique dealers and galleries. As his exploits grow in value and range, the threat of being caught rises and the FBI draws near. In theory, there’s enough to this story to pique a discerning reader’s interest; on the page, however, Perenyi’s tale unravels with vacuous prose and a lack of self-awareness or genuine insight; he offers little more than rote, blow-by-blow accounts of his scandals. Most interesting is Perenyi’s description of his hangups with his own aging process and distressing his forgeries so that they might appear authentically weathered. Unfortunately, he never presents the reader with an authentic depiction of the mind of a pathological fraud. Born in New Jersey some 63 years ago to a Hungarian-American factory machinist name Mr Perenyi and his wife Katya, Ken stil single after all these years, now lives in Florida and worries about getting old and hearing Death's sad knocking on his door. But for now, there's the book and Hollywood is calling! So there IS redemption in America, and Ken is living proof. Sort of.

Rachel Cotterill reviews: "A disappointing telling of what should have been an interesting story. I did like the technical details of forgery, from composition through to ageing the finished work. However, I found the style of the book rather too dry and unengaging."

Somewhere, Elmyr de Hory is smiling. WHO?

----------------Elmyr (pronounced el-meer) de Hory was a notorious art forger of the 20th century. The flamboyant Hungarian claimed to have sold more than 1,000 fakes to galleries and museums around the world during his career. His insistence that he had passed off paintings by such artists as Picasso, Modigliani and Matisse caused a scandal in the world of art and its experts. After serving a jail sentence in Spain, De Hory was kicked out of the country and later told his story with Clifford Irving in the 1969 book Fake! He apparently committed suicide in 1976, although some believe he faked that, too. De Hory is featured in the Orson Welles film F for Fake (1974) and the documentary Masterpiece or Forgery? (1997).

Extra credit:During the making of F For Fake, Irving was discovered to be a fraud as well, having faked his "authorized" biography of billionaire Howard Hughes.

Christian Amanpour says "the climate debate is over" and has Michio Kaku on as a guest to prove it (VIDEO HERE)

xp-amanpour-climate-change-debate-over.cnn" /> http://amanpour.blogs.cnn.com/2012/07/31/the-climate-change-debate-is-over/

By Christiane Amanpour




In the fierce and sometimes ugly fight over global climate change, we finally have an answer coming from the earth itself: the weather is telling us climate change is here and we are causing it. Theoretical physicist Michio Kaku is among the scientist who say the world is giving us signs that climate change is already happening (to see how he explains it, watch the video above). This summer, there have been relentless droughts, wildfires, melting glaciers and unprecedented storms – all happening at the same time. And around the world people are demanding something be done about it. Even in the United States, ground zero for climate change denial, six in ten Americans say they believe it is indeed happening. But political leaders are missing in action – cowed by a vociferous climate change denial club, which is actually now shrinking faster than the polar ice caps.

Hungarian-surnamed ''conman'' made fortune with forged paintings, gets celebrated by New York Times as hero?

This story was also reported in the Guardian in the UK ten days before the New York Times pounced on it, and then in the New York Post on July 22, a few days after the NYTimes story by Patti Cohen.

For nearly 30 years, Ken Perenyi made a small dishonest fortune forging works by popular 18th- and 19th-century artists like Martin Johnson Heade, Gilbert Stuart and Charles Bird King.   Then in 1998, Mr. Perenyi says, two FBI agents showed up on his doorstep, curious about a couple of paintings sold at Christie’s and Sotheby’s, ostensibly by the maritime artist James E. Buttersworth but actually his own meticulous creations.

Over the next few years, he says, the FBI continued to keep a close watch on him at his bayside bungalow here, tracking his work and where it sold, and talking to his friends and associates. Though the authorities never charged him, the scrutiny pushed Mr. Perenyi to develop what he calls “a new business model”: openly selling his faked oils as the reproductions of the finest masters.



Now they are bought by Palm Beach decorators, antiques dealers, professionals, business executives and others who want the look of cultured gentility without the price tag.



“I realized the life I knew and loved was over,” he said of his career as a con man. Whereas one Perenyi forgery fetched more than $700,000 at auction, now he sells a nearly identical work for as little as $5,000. They are the art-world equivalent of a three-carat cubic zirconia that can be flaunted as a Tiffany diamond.



Are they sold as authentic by the people who buy them?



“During the first few years of trying to market and sell my paintings legitimately, I couldn’t say where they went or what people did with them,” Mr. Perenyi, a 63-year-old man of Hungarian ancestry born in New Jersey who barely finished 9th grade, said in an interview with the New York Times who is treating him as a cultural hero and celebrity rather than the unethical conman that he was at his home in Florida. Behind him hung three fake Buttersworths, similar to the yachts that first attracted the F.B.I.’s notice. “Today I have an established clientele, and I only sell to people I know.”



Though many businesses sell fine-art reproductions, few can match Mr. Perenyi’s craftsmanship — or his checkered past.



His dishonest and unethical forgeries, he says, financed an extravagant lifestyle that included European trips, exclusive restaurants, Versace couture and “total freedom.” He says they brought him into contact with mob enforcers, the lawyer Roy Cohn and the artist Andy Warhol, who, he says, bought one of his forgeries, a John F. Peto. He is married and has three children, sources say.



He gives details of his exploits in a forthcoming memoir that celebrates his unethical life, “Caveat Emptor: the Secret Life of an American Art Forger” (printed by Pegasus Books which apparently also celebrates his dishonest unethical life), and which has already been ''optioned'' -- which means nothing --  by Ron Howard RKO Pictures. It is being marketed as a celebratory\y confession, and Mr. Perenyi, who is open in discussing his life as a swindler but not about his
ethnic background or lifestyle, is safe in the knowledge that the statute of limitations for his forgeries has passed.



An F.B.I. spokesman said that officials could not comment on the accuracy of his account because the case file, while inactive, had not been closed.



As for Pegasus, Claiborne@pegasusbooks.com  Hancock, the publisher, said a lawyer had ''vetted'' {scare quotes intended) the manuscript, careful not to follow in the same footsteps of Herman Rosenblat's fake Holocaust memoir which Oprah once championed before the hoax was revealed. Mr. Perenyi also has receipts for some works he had consigned for auction as a dealer but, in reality, had created.



Mr. Perenyi estimates that hundreds of his fakes remain in circulation. Occasionally he glimpses one (“It’s like bumping into an old friend”) in an auction catalog or in a magazine. “I miss the addictive thrill of fooling the experts,” he said. “It was great sport for me.”



A spokesman for Sotheby’s declined to comment. A spokesman for Christie’s said that the names of consigners are confidential but noted that a work Mr. Perenyi refers to as his own, a rendering attributed to Heade of two hummingbirds that was sold in 1993, is in the artist’s catalogue raisonné, the definitive compendium of his work. The author of the Heade catalogue, Theodore E. Stebbins Jr. , a curator of American art at the Harvard Art Museums, said that if Mr. Perenyi’s account is persuasive, he would need to re-examine the work.



The difference between Mr. Perenyi’s legal business and his criminal one is that now he makes clear his paintings are reproductions, even though they have the artist’s signature. Fraud applies only when someone actively misrepresents a copy as an original.



But he continues to take immense pride in his dishonest and unethical skill. “There’s no one who does what I do,” he said.



Actually, in Europe, there is. John Myatt, a British forger who spent four months in prison in 1999, also sells “genuine fakes” for a chain of galleries owned by a British publishing company. Top-notch artists like Mr. Myatt and Mr. Perenyi can command relatively high prices for fakes. Mr. Perenyi prices his reproductions, with their carefully aged frames, canvases and backings, from $2,500 for a small hummingbird that he signs with Heade’s name to $30,000 for a large Roman vista after Pannini.



Authentic paintings attract collectors for a variety of reasons: an artist’s vision, a venerable reputation, investment potential or the ineffable mystique of the genuine. High-end fakes sate a different sort of desire: aesthetic cachet at a fraction of the price.



“I have some of his paintings mixed in with real art,” said Nancy Telese, a Palm Beach socialite and a longtime friend of Mr. Perenyi’s. She owns his versions of Heade, Picasso, Modigliani, Miró and others.



“Of course they’re much less expensive than a real painting,” Ms. Telese said. “But I thought his work was their equal. They were just so beautiful, with such detail. This is like what I see in the museums around the world.”



The “Picassos” will elicit a gasp from viewers, she said. Most people won’t ask if the works are real, but if they do, “I say they’re reproductions,” she said.



Mr. Perenyi said other clients did not want to speak with a reporter because they present his works as the real thing.



At Trinity Gallery in St. Petersburg, Fla., where Mr. Perenyi’s work is sold, the owner, Allan Abrams, said his buyers are usually “a professional older couple who all their lives wanted to own a painting by a certain artist, and this is the closest they’ll ever get.” Impressionist paintings and male nudes are the biggest sellers, said Mr. Abrams, who requires all buyers to sign a receipt attesting that they know they’re buying a reproduction.



Mr. Perenyi’s own home, a replica of a Nantucket saltbox cottage, is filled with some of his favorite creations, including William A. Walker’s cabin scenes, a Stuart portrait of George Washington and John F. Herring Sr.’s horses.



During the interview he hauled out a few large, blue plastic tubs and took off their lids. Inside one were stacks of tiny framed canvases in the style of the 18th-century view painter Francesco Guardi, a rival of Canaletto and Pannini who painted scenic postcards of Venice to sell to British nobility on their Grand Tour. Hundreds of other paintings Mr. Perenyi has produced are stockpiled in secure storage units nearby, he said.



Spreading half a dozen of his Guardi replicas across the living room floor, Mr. Perenyi said he developed his artistic technique on his own and learned the forensics by working for a restorer and a frame maker when he was in his 20s. Through extensive research and trial and error, he figured out how to simulate the telltale signs of age: the distinctive spider-web cracking in the paint, the tiny dots of fly droppings, and the slimy green look of old varnish when viewed under ultraviolet light. One of his best, he says, was a Heade-style passion flower that Sothebys sold as a new discovery in 1994 for $717,500. A copy now hangs over his fireplace.



Today Mr. Perenyi sees himself as a spiritual heir to the artists he copies. “These men were businessmen,” he said; they made multiple variations of a painting and employed other artists in their studio to replicate their work.



“I’m convinced that if these artists were alive today, they would thank me,” he said. “I’m somebody that understands and appreciates their work.”



Standing over one of his Herrings he pointed out the sheen of the horse’s coat and the crystal-clear detail of the jockey’s face. “I don’t wish to flatter myself,” he said, celebrating himself, “but I’m sure Herring himself would be proud to put his name on this painting.”

This story was also reported in the Guardian in the UK ten days before the New York Times pounced on it, and then in the New York Post on July 22, a few days after the NYTimes story by Patti Cohen.

CAVEAT EMPTOR! -- How did this NYT story come about? Some Readers want to know. Well....to make a long story short.....The reporter, Ms Cohen, being in the NYT culture beat department, gets scores of books from publishers and she also regularly scans book catalogues looking for titles that look interesting and that she might want to write about one day. Lately, she's been writing a lot about art forgery and one day she saw a book galley -- ARC? -- of Ken Perenyi’s book “Caveat Emptor,” which mentioned he was now selling “genuine fakes.” Patti noticed a few other references to similar practices and she proabably thought it would make a good news story, so she most likely discussed it with her NYT editor. Reporters in culture, as well as other sections like style and science, frequently travel to other places to do stories that are on their beat. That is why the fashion writers cover the catwalks in Paris even though the NYT has a bureau there, and NYT art writers go to Basel, Miami and Swtizerland, and their music reporter went with the Philharmonic to North Korea and so on. So this forger story was her beat, so she was the one to cover the story. The UK Guardian beat her to the scoop a full 10 days earlier, btw. Yes, the same story appeared in the UK on July 7. Patti most likely did what all good reporters do and called Pegasus Books to inquire, for her story, what kind of fact-checking measures their lawyers took to verify the author’s account. As in vetting. As for the timing of the story, a month before pub date, which means the PR coup by having a pre-publication story in the NYT about an upcoming book a full 30 days before pub date is priceless in terms of PR and book publicity, mind you. But bear in mind that stories about the book were beginning to appear in the British press, a good piece in the Guardian among others, and if Cohen waited any longer, until the real official pub date, August 20, the Times would have been late with the story instead of first. Well, the first in the USA. In fact, the Guardian did the story first, got the scoop, and it appeared online for worldwide readers a full 2 weeks before the Times late entry. The New York Post then picked up the NYT story and rewrote it for their own post. Such is life in the news zones.


And now you know ...the rest of the story!

Will this book turn out to be another JAMES FREY incident in USA publishing? One never knows. But the book's lawyer says he vetted the entire manuscript. So everything looks kosher for now. Let's see if any enterprising investigative journalists come up with anything new before pub date or after. This story has legs. And the main qeustion, we ponder, is this: why is American culture about to make a hero and celebrity of this guy with a book and a movie and a big story in the New York Times? Is this right? What would Oprah do?

 

In the Waiting Room: a poem about National Geographic Magazine in 1918

In Worcester, Massachusetts,

I went with Aunt Consuelo

to keep her dentist's appointment

and sat and waited for her

in the dentist's waiting room.

It was winter. It got dark

early. The waiting room

was full of grown-up people,

arctics and overcoats,

lamps and magazines.

My aunt was inside

what seemed like a long time

and while I waited and read

the National Geographic

(I could read) and carefully

studied the photographs:

the inside of a volcano,

black, and full of ashes;

then it was spilling over

in rivulets of fire.

Osa and Martin Johnson

dressed in riding breeches,

laced boots, and pith helmets.

A dead man slung on a pole

"Long Pig," the caption said.

Babies with pointed heads

wound round and round with string;

black, naked women with necks

wound round and round with wire

like the necks of light bulbs.

Their breasts were horrifying.

I read it right straight through.

I was too shy to stop.

And then I looked at the cover:

the yellow margins, the date.

Suddenly, from inside,

came an oh! of pain

--Aunt Consuelo's voice--

not very loud or long.

I wasn't at all surprised;

even then I knew she was

a foolish, timid woman.

I might have been embarrassed,

but wasn't. What took me

completely by surprise

was that it was me:

my voice, in my mouth.

Without thinking at all

I was my foolish aunt,

I--we--were falling, falling,

our eyes glued to the cover

of the National Geographic,

February, 1918.



I said to myself: three days

and you'll be seven years old.

I was saying it to stop

the sensation of falling off

the round, turning world.

into cold, blue-black space.

But I felt: you are an I,

you are an Elizabeth,

you are one of them.

Why should you be one, too?

I scarcely dared to look

to see what it was I was.

I gave a sidelong glance

--I couldn't look any higher--

at shadowy gray knees,

trousers and skirts and boots

and different pairs of hands

lying under the lamps.

I knew that nothing stranger

had ever happened, that nothing

stranger could ever happen.



Why should I be my aunt,

or me, or anyone?

What similarities

boots, hands, the family voice

I felt in my throat, or even

the National Geographic

and those awful hanging breasts

held us all together

or made us all just one?

How I didn't know any

word for it how "unlikely". . .

How had I come to be here,

like them, and overhear

a cry of pain that could have

got loud and worse but hadn't?



The waiting room was bright

and too hot. It was sliding

beneath a big black wave,

another, and another.



Then I was back in it.

The War was on. Outside,

in Worcester, Massachusetts,

were night and slush and cold,

and it was still the fifth

of February, 1918.





-- a poem by Elizabeth Bishop in 1976

New New York Times Public Editor: Margaret Sullivan (HOW LONG WILL SHE LAST? BETTING POOL HERE?)

On the other hand, Margaret Sullivan, above, might prove a genius in her new slot as NYTimes public editor OMBUDSWOMAN, the first woman and first WHITE WOMAN ever to hold the job. She was a newspaper editor in Buffalo, one of only an estimated 30 newspaper editors in the city’s entire history! --

“One of them was Mark Twain, and one of them was me!” she once told a reporter. “It’s a great legacy.”

It is 'not kosher' to joke about Anne Frank, Ricky Gervais!

Back in April, an America writer challenged British comedian here to stop cracking

vulgar and crude jokes about Anne Frank after the writer spotted him

making a tasteless joke about Anne Frank and her family on the Jon

Stewart Comedy Central "Daily Show" on national

television. The news posted on The Wrap about his challenge to Gervais

to please stop with the Anne Frank jokes was picked up by

several Jewish and non-Jewish news outlets, from The Foward and The Tablet in New

York to the Jewish Chronicle in London.



After I wrote an "Open Letter to Ricky Gervais" for The Wrap here,

Gervais responded, through his PR people apparently, with an email to

me which was published

in the Jewish Chronicle newspaper in Britain. His piece was titled

"Why it's kosher to joke about Anne Frank," and with no apologies,

Gervais wrote, among other things:



"I have had that routine for nearly 10 years now. It is about the

misunderstanding and ignorance of what is clearly a tragic and

horrific situation. My comic persona is that of a man who speaks with

great arrogance and authority but who along the way reveals his

immense stupidity.

In this particular routine, I envisage an almost slapstick version of

the Nazis entering the home of Anne Frank on a daily basis and always

failing to bother to "look upstairs".



I even have one of them suggest, "Looking upstairs today, Sarge?" The

officer replies, "No, let's move on."



The first Nazi then says: "What's that tapping sound?" - as I mime

using an old fashioned typewriter. Again the joke here is the

supremely stupid assumption that Anne Frank obliviously and noisily

typed her diary.



The Sarge (who I am portraying as a lazy and incompetent Nazi)

answers, "Mice! Move on".



The final layer of ignorance in the routine is that, instead of taking

the obvious and correct stance that Nazis were disgusting, immoral and

evil, I merely conclude that they were "rubbish" because of their

inability to find Anne Frank earlier - like it was all part of a big,

mutually agreed game of hide-and-seek.



I can see if [if a Jewish person] took this routine at face value as

my real opinion on this profound and heroic tragedy, it could be

deemed highly offensive. However, this is obviously an absurd comic

position with the audience well in on the joke, fully aware that I am

saying the exact opposite of what every right-minded person thinks.



I often get accused of finding comedy in places where no comedy is to

be found. I feel you can make a joke about anything. It just depends

on what the joke is. Comedy comes from a good or a bad place and the

problem is in its interpretation, with some people confusing the

subject of a joke with the joke's real target. The target of this joke

is the comedian's ignorance."





So much for apologizing for the Jon Stewart show fiasco. Now in the

middle of the summer, Mr Gervais lets loose again in a recent Twitter

message to his many "fans," whoever

they might be, tweeting: "If I had a time machine, I’d go back and

sneak Anne Frank a DVD of 'Home Alone'. It could give her the edge.”



The 51-year-old British comic tweeted that to over 2.5 million

''followers," and of course he landed in hot water again with Jewish

readers in Europe and North America.

He quickly deleted the offensive tweet after being slammed by fans,

according to London press reports, but in response the outspoken

comedian and star of "The Office" tweeted this: “We have to stop this

recent culture of people telling us they’re offended and expecting us

to give a [damn]."





Ricky Gervais is a terribly tasteless, serial offender of the memory

of Anne Frank and her family and he just won't stop. What makes this

man tick? Do Britons really lap this stuff up?