TWO SCUM BAGS
JON STEWART and the Muslim Communist who is running for Mayor of NYC.
Jon Stewart, once hailed as the sharp-witted king of shticky satire on The Daily Show, has devolved into a hollow caricature of his former self—a bitter, aging provocateur whose recent fawning over anti-Israel activist Zohran Mamdani reeks of self-loathing and opportunistic pandering.
In a cringeworthy episode of The Problem with Jon Stewart, he gushed over Mamdani, a Queens assemblyman with deep ties to Islamist extremism, dubbing him the “Jackie Robinson of New York City.”
This wasn’t mere hyperbole; it was a grotesque insult to the civil rights icon and, more damningly, to the 2,977 New Yorkers slaughtered on September 11, 2001, by al-Qaeda terrorists.
Stewart, a Jewish man born Jonathan Stuart Leibowitz, chose to elevate a figure whose family and political allies have flirted with terror apologism, all while mocking the very city that birthed his career. It’s a betrayal that exposes Stewart as a scum bag sellout, trading authenticity for relevance in a post-Trump media circus.
Let’s unpack Mamdani first, because Stewart’s worship of him isn’t just tone-deaf—it’s radioactive.
Zohran Mamdani is the son of Mahmood Mamdani, a Columbia University professor notorious for his post-9/11 screed Good Muslim, Bad Muslim, which essentially blamed American foreign policy for the attacks rather than the jihadists who executed them. The elder Mamdani has defended aspects of political Islam, including ties to groups like the Muslim Brotherhood, and his work has been cited by apologists for Hamas and Hezbollah.
Young Zohran, a Democratic Socialist, (euphemism for communist) has built his career on anti-Zionist firebrand rhetoric, co-sponsoring bills to boycott Israel and platforming voices that celebrate “intifada” chants—code for glorifying violence against Jews.
His campaign was bankrolled by the far-left orbit that includes SJP (Students for Justice in Palestine), which has faced lawsuits for allegedly supporting terrorist organizations. Yet Stewart, in a segment dripping with sycophancy, compared this radical to Jackie Robinson, the Black trailblazer who broke baseball’s color barrier amid death threats and bigotry.
The analogy is vile: Robinson endured real racism to integrate a sport; Mamdani leverages identity politics to mainstream Islamist sympathies in a city scarred by the Twin Towers’ fall.
Stewart’s praise isn’t comedy—it’s complicity, a signal to his audience that excusing terror-adjacent figures is progressive.
Why would a Jewish guy like Stewart kneel before this?
Simple: self-hatred, marinated in decades of performative liberalism. Stewart has a history of Jewish self-flagellation, from his craven defenses of anti-Semitic tropes on his show to his post-retirement pivot into full-throated Israel-bashing.
In 2023, he equated Israel’s defensive war against Hamas—sparked by the October 7 massacre of 1,200 Jews—with “genocide,” ignoring the terrorists’ explicit goal of Jewish extermination. This isn’t bold truth-telling; it’s a rich, coastal elite’s guilt trip, where criticizing Israel absolves one of actual Jewish solidarity.
Stewart’s family fled Eastern European pogroms; his grandfather was a Holocaust survivor. Yet he treats Jewish pain as a punchline, once joking about Israelis as “warmongers” while Palestinians are perpetual victims. Pair that with his Mamdani love-in, and it screams internalized antisemitism: the “good Jew” who hates his own tribe to win applause from the woke brigade.
It’s the same pathology that saw him platform Ilhan Omar, the congresswoman who peddled “dual loyalty” smears against Jews, without a hint of pushback.
Stewart isn’t wrestling with identity; he’s auctioning it off for Netflix deals and TED Talk invites.
And the insult to 9/11 victims? That’s where Stewart’s scum bag status solidifies into something unforgivable. New Yorkers lost fathers, mothers, firefighters—ordinary heroes vaporized by Muslim extremists funded by the same ideological swamp Mamdani’s circle wades in.
Stewart, who built his brand on post-9/11 raw emotion (remember his tearful Daily Show monologue?), now spits on that grief. By lionizing Mamdani, he implicitly endorses a worldview that soft-pedals jihadism:
“It wasn’t real Islam,” or “U.S. imperialism provoked it.” Bullshit. Al-Qaeda didn’t need provocation; they needed box cutters and blind hatred. Stewart’s generation rebuilt Ground Zero into a gleaming testament to resilience, yet he treats it like ancient history, irrelevant to his virtue-signaling. It’s as if he’s forgotten the dust-choked streets, the missing posters, the endless funerals. No, worse: he’s chosen to forget, because remembering might cramp his “allyship” with anti-Western radicals.
This from a guy who once skewered Bush for Iraq but now ignores Iran’s proxy wars that echo 9/11’s fanaticism. Hypocrisy? It’s moral rot.
Stewart’s broader sellout to Muslims—or more precisely, to the Islamist-adjacent left—stems from his desperate grab for limelight.
At 62, he’s an “aging prune,” whose humor has curdled into sanctimonious lectures. The Problem with Jon Stewart flopped because audiences smelled the inauthenticity: the chain-smoking cynic turned preachy elder statesman, hawking Apple TV+ schlock while pocketing millions from 9/11 first-responder advocacy (irony alert: he lobbied for their health fund, then betrays their memory). His Mamdani episode was peak grift—courting the DSA youth vote, the TikTok generation that sees Hamas as “resistance.”
It’s not about justice; it’s about relevance. Stewart couldn’t stay retired; he itched for the stage, so he morphed into a pushy, nervy has-been, shoving his way into every culture war skirmish. Remember his 2024 election rants? Equivocating Trump and Biden while ignoring campus antisemitism. Or his Gaza takes, where he wept for Palestinian “children” but shrugged at beheaded Israeli babies. Sold out? Absolutely.
He’s traded Jewish spines for Muslim Brotherhood brownie points, all to stay the cool uncle at the progressive Thanksgiving.
In the end, Stewart’s scum bag arc is a tragedy of squandered capital. He could’ve been the voice calling out extremism on all sides—jihadists and their enablers. Instead, he’s a cautionary tale: fame erodes principle, leaving a husk who insults the dead to hug the living devils. New Yorkers deserve better than this prune’s platitudes. If Stewart has an ounce of soul left, he’ll apologize—not to Mamdani, but to the ghosts of 9/11 and the Jews he’s abandoned. Until then, he’s just noise: loud, irrelevant, and deeply ashamed.
