Can We Call A Dumb-Ass A Dumb-Ass?
In the world of news stories that fly at us at a rapid fire pace, two stick in my mind. The most recent deals with grade school kids singing a revamped song in praise of President Obama. Some parents were concerned that this could be seen as brain washing. This story comes on the heals of parents being concerned about President Obama’s broadcast message to school children. They were worried about it being political in nature.
I know everyone is entitled to their opinion, but folks, these parents baffle me. The tie in between songs and brainwashing. Don’t see it. Makes no sense to me. Dumb-assed.
Having qualms about the president’s message to school children without having prior knowledge of its content, also dumb-assed.
It could be possible that these “concerned” parents are of the ultra conservative persuasion, and just wanted to throw stones into the public discourse.
Anyway, the dumb-assed syndrome is hardly new. Decades ago when the Equal Rights Amendment was being proposed its opponents threw out warning that its passage would result in women being drafted into the military and being expected to engage in front line combat. And worst yet, be mandated to use co-ed bathrooms. At the time there was no indication that any of those measures would result from the passage of the ERA. Yet there were guests on news and talk shows who insisted this would be the case. I can’t recall a host or anchor ever saying the insinuations were stupid and outlandish, and yes, dumb-assed.
Why the silence by the media? Well, it could be because they feel the need to stay impartial during their hosting and anchoring duties. Or better yet, there is so much air time needed to be filled, that if they began offending the stupid and dumb-assed they may be left scrambling for guests and content to put on the air.
Ah, but my fellow Americans, I have a solution to this monumental problem. A dumb-assed alert. We have TV weather warnings. Parental discretion warnings for mature content. We need the same thing when an obvious dumb-assed story is about to be reported. A buzzer could go off, and a flashing superimposed “dumb-assed story” crawl could be positioned at the bottom of the screen. This would ease my, and many other people’s minds.
Mass media. Are you listening?
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
About
The news that Michael Vick would be re-instated into the NFL didn’t come as a shock to me. I always had the feeling he would be allowed to play again if he showed any true signs of genuine remorse. I’m stuck in the middle of the equation because I’m a dog lover and a big NFL fan.
On the other hand, the NFL is the biggest straight out meat market in sports when it comes to acquiring and discarding players. It has to be due to the high attrition rate related to wear and tear and career ending injuries. Consequently, anybody showing any genuine talent will probably be given a chance to line up and give it a go. Michael Vick certainly fits into that category.
In general, the NFL always exits in a paradox. On one hand they are extremely popular, especially on television, and loves to promote itself as an all American sport for the whole family. But in reality, football is a pretty violent, highly mean-spirited game played by hard-nosed men that relish shouting obscenities at each other.
It should be no surprise that such a game would attract young men with highly aggressive hard-nosed personalities, a plus for players that play some positions. A side bar to this is that some players find it hard to turn off their aggressive no holds bared nature outside of the playing field, which has sometimes led to problems with the law.
NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell has instituted what you could call a no nonsense policy for players who step out of line and get convicted of high crimes and misdemeanors. He seems to be the sole authority on when or if the offending players will be suspended and for how long. The approach seems credible enough but probably won’t be 100% successful just due to the nature of the game and the type of people it takes to field a competitive team.
This brings me to the Jetsons, a 1960s animated TV show that was the opposite of the Flintstones. It had a futuristic premise that featured all the space age advancements that should have occurred by now, but haven’t exactly come to be. The show featured things like flying cars that folded up into a briefcase, talking robot house keepers, and food machines that deliver a cooked meal in a couple seconds. I’m glad the flying cars haven’t happened .As bad as some people drive I would not want to have to be constantly looking upward in anticipation of two crashed cars landing on my head.
I recall an episode of the Jetsons that included a football game. It wasn’t played by humans, but by robots that were controlled by the team’s coaches. What a boom this would be for the NFL. No dealing with humans and their petty frailties and problems. No injuries, no criminal behavior by players, no annoying flamboyant wide receivers, no agents wanting big contracts for their star players. Just robots or androids you wheel out of a box and send out to play in the games. And if a player should malfunction or break down, you would just haul out an equally skilled replacement and keep playing.
The only people who would probably object would be actual human beings with the skills to play professional football. They could start an alternative old school league but it wouldn’t have the juice of the NFL behind them.
But on the other hand, how long would it be before some overzealous owner got nailed for illegal programming or assembling the team’s robots, resulting in scandalous headlines.
Oh well. Never mind.
On the other hand, the NFL is the biggest straight out meat market in sports when it comes to acquiring and discarding players. It has to be due to the high attrition rate related to wear and tear and career ending injuries. Consequently, anybody showing any genuine talent will probably be given a chance to line up and give it a go. Michael Vick certainly fits into that category.
In general, the NFL always exits in a paradox. On one hand they are extremely popular, especially on television, and loves to promote itself as an all American sport for the whole family. But in reality, football is a pretty violent, highly mean-spirited game played by hard-nosed men that relish shouting obscenities at each other.
It should be no surprise that such a game would attract young men with highly aggressive hard-nosed personalities, a plus for players that play some positions. A side bar to this is that some players find it hard to turn off their aggressive no holds bared nature outside of the playing field, which has sometimes led to problems with the law.
NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell has instituted what you could call a no nonsense policy for players who step out of line and get convicted of high crimes and misdemeanors. He seems to be the sole authority on when or if the offending players will be suspended and for how long. The approach seems credible enough but probably won’t be 100% successful just due to the nature of the game and the type of people it takes to field a competitive team.
This brings me to the Jetsons, a 1960s animated TV show that was the opposite of the Flintstones. It had a futuristic premise that featured all the space age advancements that should have occurred by now, but haven’t exactly come to be. The show featured things like flying cars that folded up into a briefcase, talking robot house keepers, and food machines that deliver a cooked meal in a couple seconds. I’m glad the flying cars haven’t happened .As bad as some people drive I would not want to have to be constantly looking upward in anticipation of two crashed cars landing on my head.
I recall an episode of the Jetsons that included a football game. It wasn’t played by humans, but by robots that were controlled by the team’s coaches. What a boom this would be for the NFL. No dealing with humans and their petty frailties and problems. No injuries, no criminal behavior by players, no annoying flamboyant wide receivers, no agents wanting big contracts for their star players. Just robots or androids you wheel out of a box and send out to play in the games. And if a player should malfunction or break down, you would just haul out an equally skilled replacement and keep playing.
The only people who would probably object would be actual human beings with the skills to play professional football. They could start an alternative old school league but it wouldn’t have the juice of the NFL behind them.
But on the other hand, how long would it be before some overzealous owner got nailed for illegal programming or assembling the team’s robots, resulting in scandalous headlines.
Oh well. Never mind.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Reality TV Heaven and Hell
At this point I suppose it’s safe to say that reality TV shows are here to stay, for better or worst, heaven or hell. I’m not a particularly big fan of reality television, although there are shows I do watch. Like all other television shows they exist in varying degrees of quality, and survive varying amounts of time.
However, I’m beginning to notice something uniquely insidious about reality shows. Even if there’s a show you don’t like, and have no interest in whatsoever, you may not be able to escape the people featured in the show unless you completely give up viewing television. I had never heard of the Jon and Kate show until stories of their crumbling marriage surfaced. As far as I can tell the dissolution of their marriage is probably for the good of mankind. What I strongly object to is the constant reports and updates on these annoying people. They pop up on magazine shows, morning shows like Today, and even local news broadcasts.
The Hills is another show I’ve never watched. But I have seen way too much coverage of the stars of the show, especially Heidi and Spencer, apparently the most annoying people in their age group in America, if not the world.
Somebody tell me how this travesty can be put to a stop
Good people, if I do say so myself, I sometimes come up with brilliant ideas. This one is for the ultimate reality show called House on a Steep Hill. I’m positive it will be a guaranteed ratings winner. It will be a one time broadcast live and unedited.
The premise of the show will be to gather together a group of the most annoying and unlikeable reality show participants on a false promise, and fly them by helicopter to a luxury house located on a steep hill.
Once the group has gathered inside the house, Boom , a dynamite charge will, to say the least, put a shock into the group. The blast won’t be strong enough to wipe out all the participants. But think of the thrill of seeing your most hated reality show star bite the dust in a big way.
A broadcast announcement will tell the survivors weather conditions won’t allow a helicopter rescue, but if they journey to the bottom of the hill they will be saved.
Now here comes the next twist. Sprinkled around the slope of the hill will be mean and hungry wild animals; lions and tigers and bears, oh my. The prospect of seeing one or more alleged stars being ripped to shreds, and eaten for lunch by a wild animal has to be just what the doctor ordered for the dedicated reality show fan.
Not to be totally unfair, there will also be weapons placed along the path going down the hill. Everything from primitive spears and bows and arrows to hand guns and Uzis. The trick for the stars will be to acquire the best weapon possible before being attacked by one or more animals.
I’ll tell you folks, the suspense will be amazing. Either all the pesky reality stars will become wild animal appetizers, or some will actually survive, and win our respect, if not admiration. A ratings winner for sure. Call me, networks. Call me.
However, I’m beginning to notice something uniquely insidious about reality shows. Even if there’s a show you don’t like, and have no interest in whatsoever, you may not be able to escape the people featured in the show unless you completely give up viewing television. I had never heard of the Jon and Kate show until stories of their crumbling marriage surfaced. As far as I can tell the dissolution of their marriage is probably for the good of mankind. What I strongly object to is the constant reports and updates on these annoying people. They pop up on magazine shows, morning shows like Today, and even local news broadcasts.
The Hills is another show I’ve never watched. But I have seen way too much coverage of the stars of the show, especially Heidi and Spencer, apparently the most annoying people in their age group in America, if not the world.
Somebody tell me how this travesty can be put to a stop
Good people, if I do say so myself, I sometimes come up with brilliant ideas. This one is for the ultimate reality show called House on a Steep Hill. I’m positive it will be a guaranteed ratings winner. It will be a one time broadcast live and unedited.
The premise of the show will be to gather together a group of the most annoying and unlikeable reality show participants on a false promise, and fly them by helicopter to a luxury house located on a steep hill.
Once the group has gathered inside the house, Boom , a dynamite charge will, to say the least, put a shock into the group. The blast won’t be strong enough to wipe out all the participants. But think of the thrill of seeing your most hated reality show star bite the dust in a big way.
A broadcast announcement will tell the survivors weather conditions won’t allow a helicopter rescue, but if they journey to the bottom of the hill they will be saved.
Now here comes the next twist. Sprinkled around the slope of the hill will be mean and hungry wild animals; lions and tigers and bears, oh my. The prospect of seeing one or more alleged stars being ripped to shreds, and eaten for lunch by a wild animal has to be just what the doctor ordered for the dedicated reality show fan.
Not to be totally unfair, there will also be weapons placed along the path going down the hill. Everything from primitive spears and bows and arrows to hand guns and Uzis. The trick for the stars will be to acquire the best weapon possible before being attacked by one or more animals.
I’ll tell you folks, the suspense will be amazing. Either all the pesky reality stars will become wild animal appetizers, or some will actually survive, and win our respect, if not admiration. A ratings winner for sure. Call me, networks. Call me.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
About Power Groupies & Power Guys
The Governor Sanford affair is the latest in the saga of
political sex scandals. In some ways it’s fairly typical. In
others, not so much. I mean he didn’t just trek across town, or
even across country to hook up with his mistress. He went all the
way to South America with no back up story to really explain his
disappearance. Plus once he confessed he couldn’t stop talking
and cataloguing his sins. This at least spared us the spectacle
of the loyal political wife bravely standing by her man.
I have often been skeptical about these public displays of
support. In private I picture the wife pounding the offending
husband up side the head with a frying pan. And having this kind of
response to any request by the husband.
“Get you a beer. You want me to get you a beer. Why don’t you
ask the slutty little bitch to come get you a beer?”
The female groupie personality type is hardly new. Especially
in high profile professions like acting, music, and athletics. In
the case of politicians power is the great allure. For every JFK
or John Edwards there could be an aging, balding, not so hot
looking politician scoring with a hot babe solely because of his
position of power.
For the power guys, it could be several reasons why they become
players in the game. From believing they are entitled because of
the exalted position they hold, or being thrilled at the chance
of hooking up with a woman they considered to be way out of their
league.
In the past, a sex scandal almost always spelled doom for the
elected official. These days it’s an iffy situation. It could
depend on how the story is spun, what the circumstances are, or
believe it or not, how good a job the office holder is doing in
representing his constituency.
Also in the past, the press looked the other way in the case of
Marilyn Monroe and JFK. In today’s world of overblown media
outlets and instant internet coverage, it would seem to be
virtually impossible for a major female entertainment personality
to carry on an affair with the President of the United States.
Thus, we had a chubby intern becoming an instant infamous
celebrity, and a president going through impeachment hearings.
To me, I almost wish some newly elected official would say
something like:
“I must say, I’m a horny type guy. I might succumb to lust in
my heart. I may screw the wrong girl. But I won’t screw you, my
loyal voting public.”
Of course, this will never happen. But as for sex scandals, I
suspect they’ll stay around for awhile. You can count on it. Stay
tuned.
political sex scandals. In some ways it’s fairly typical. In
others, not so much. I mean he didn’t just trek across town, or
even across country to hook up with his mistress. He went all the
way to South America with no back up story to really explain his
disappearance. Plus once he confessed he couldn’t stop talking
and cataloguing his sins. This at least spared us the spectacle
of the loyal political wife bravely standing by her man.
I have often been skeptical about these public displays of
support. In private I picture the wife pounding the offending
husband up side the head with a frying pan. And having this kind of
response to any request by the husband.
“Get you a beer. You want me to get you a beer. Why don’t you
ask the slutty little bitch to come get you a beer?”
The female groupie personality type is hardly new. Especially
in high profile professions like acting, music, and athletics. In
the case of politicians power is the great allure. For every JFK
or John Edwards there could be an aging, balding, not so hot
looking politician scoring with a hot babe solely because of his
position of power.
For the power guys, it could be several reasons why they become
players in the game. From believing they are entitled because of
the exalted position they hold, or being thrilled at the chance
of hooking up with a woman they considered to be way out of their
league.
In the past, a sex scandal almost always spelled doom for the
elected official. These days it’s an iffy situation. It could
depend on how the story is spun, what the circumstances are, or
believe it or not, how good a job the office holder is doing in
representing his constituency.
Also in the past, the press looked the other way in the case of
Marilyn Monroe and JFK. In today’s world of overblown media
outlets and instant internet coverage, it would seem to be
virtually impossible for a major female entertainment personality
to carry on an affair with the President of the United States.
Thus, we had a chubby intern becoming an instant infamous
celebrity, and a president going through impeachment hearings.
To me, I almost wish some newly elected official would say
something like:
“I must say, I’m a horny type guy. I might succumb to lust in
my heart. I may screw the wrong girl. But I won’t screw you, my
loyal voting public.”
Of course, this will never happen. But as for sex scandals, I
suspect they’ll stay around for awhile. You can count on it. Stay
tuned.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Random Thoughts About Michael Jackson
I have to say I grew up in Gary so I was a witness to seeing the Jackson Five evolve from talent show sensations to playing local clubs to being signed by Motown. On the every day side the house where they lived happened to be situated directly behind a little league baseball field where I and the older Jackson brothers played. I remember many a foul ball landing in the Jackson’s yard. Seeing the van they used to transport themselves and their equipment to gigs. Or passing by seeing little kids like Janet running about in baby clothes.
I keep thinking that Michael’s life was the ultimate contradiction. What made him highly popular and successful also kept him from finding a delicate balance between his private and public life. It was if his celebrity burned so white hot he became like an alien from another planet. He could be admired to the point of frenzy, but not really completely understood by his fans. He could look for a place to fit in, but would find it difficult to find someone that could completely relate to his unique position in the world.
At the time Michael married Lisa Marie Pressley I wondered why he picked her out of all the women in the world. But on the other hand, with Michael reputed to be an astute student of show business, he knew Elvis was the one rock and roll era entertainer that mirrored his own career the most.
The parallels between Elvis and Michael are obvious. The rare triple threat of top notch vocals, unique dancing and movement, combined with irresistable charisma. In their own ways both were ground breaking. Elvis drove white teenagers crazy in the sexually repressed 1950s. He also scared the crap out of parents, drew the ire of religious conservatives, and as a by product, probably caused white kids to gravitate more to black entertainers with styles that Elvis emulated. With the sheer force of his talent Michael became a world wide sensation. He also broke down barriers like the practice of black acts having to break out big on the R&B charts before ever getting airplay on top 40 stations. Not to mention making MTV revamp their early practice of not broadcasting videos by black artists.
The classic TV appearance by Elvis was his stint on the Ed Sullivan in which they blocked out the bottom half of his body because his movements were considered too sexually suggestive. Instead of protecting their children, the action probably made them even more attracted to Elvis.
Michael solidified his position as the undisputed man of the times with his dazzling performance of Billy Jean on the Motown 25th television special. Anybody would be hard pressed to find a more electrifying and right on point piece of video of the same length on any subject, let alone a musical performance.
I’m hardly an expert, and could be off base, but I can’t help but wonder what would have happened had Michael had under gone a type of theraphy that would have helped him separate his performing self from his real life existence. If he could have been his on Clark Kent and put his Superman suit in a closet to be pulled out at appropriate times. I suppose we’ll never know.
I’m sure that, like Elvis, Michael’s music and video contributions will live on and prosper, and will be embraced by a new crop of fans who didn’t get the chance to see him perform in person or on a live broadcast. Such are the things legends are made of.
I keep thinking that Michael’s life was the ultimate contradiction. What made him highly popular and successful also kept him from finding a delicate balance between his private and public life. It was if his celebrity burned so white hot he became like an alien from another planet. He could be admired to the point of frenzy, but not really completely understood by his fans. He could look for a place to fit in, but would find it difficult to find someone that could completely relate to his unique position in the world.
At the time Michael married Lisa Marie Pressley I wondered why he picked her out of all the women in the world. But on the other hand, with Michael reputed to be an astute student of show business, he knew Elvis was the one rock and roll era entertainer that mirrored his own career the most.
The parallels between Elvis and Michael are obvious. The rare triple threat of top notch vocals, unique dancing and movement, combined with irresistable charisma. In their own ways both were ground breaking. Elvis drove white teenagers crazy in the sexually repressed 1950s. He also scared the crap out of parents, drew the ire of religious conservatives, and as a by product, probably caused white kids to gravitate more to black entertainers with styles that Elvis emulated. With the sheer force of his talent Michael became a world wide sensation. He also broke down barriers like the practice of black acts having to break out big on the R&B charts before ever getting airplay on top 40 stations. Not to mention making MTV revamp their early practice of not broadcasting videos by black artists.
The classic TV appearance by Elvis was his stint on the Ed Sullivan in which they blocked out the bottom half of his body because his movements were considered too sexually suggestive. Instead of protecting their children, the action probably made them even more attracted to Elvis.
Michael solidified his position as the undisputed man of the times with his dazzling performance of Billy Jean on the Motown 25th television special. Anybody would be hard pressed to find a more electrifying and right on point piece of video of the same length on any subject, let alone a musical performance.
I’m hardly an expert, and could be off base, but I can’t help but wonder what would have happened had Michael had under gone a type of theraphy that would have helped him separate his performing self from his real life existence. If he could have been his on Clark Kent and put his Superman suit in a closet to be pulled out at appropriate times. I suppose we’ll never know.
I’m sure that, like Elvis, Michael’s music and video contributions will live on and prosper, and will be embraced by a new crop of fans who didn’t get the chance to see him perform in person or on a live broadcast. Such are the things legends are made of.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
A Plea For a Beach Dress Code
Well folks, it’s close to summer time, and the living may be easy. It’s that time of year, especially in places where they have traditionally cool, or cold winters, when many people will be flocking to the beach.
This is my area of grave concern. Most people feel free to dress in the manner that is comfortable to them. On the surface nothing is wrong with this. But in reality, it can be a harry situation for the eyes to see. This is why I think a beach dress code is badly needed. The code doesn’t have to be formal or enforceable by law, it would just be something people would adhere to naturally.
In a business office setting women are not going to show up in a halter and a micro mini dress. Men don’t come to work wearing a suit coat and no shirt. We need the same kind of responsible behavior when it comes to visiting the beach.
Now I have nothing against plus sized women enjoying the beach. But let’s face it, is any kind of two piece bathing suit a great look for you? I think not.
Full figure men. Do you really need to be shirtless at the beach, especially if you have man boobs so large you can make Pamela Anderson envious? My answer would be no.
I know some places have ordinances against women wearing thong or G-string bottoms. Apparently parents are concerned about their children seeing female butts. But let’s face it, we’re in the age of the internet, cable TV, texting, and Girls Gone Wild. If kids really want to see bare buns, they’ll find someplace to see them. What might be more disturbing to kids is to see a well-boobed man with a pregnant belly. Can you imagine a kid saying:
"Mama, that man has breasts like you. Is he pregnant? I thought only women can have babies."
Full figure types are hardly the only offenders. For all you large boobed women that wear bikini tops a couple sizes too small, don’t be surprised when all male eyes are upon you in anticipation of a major wardrobe malfunction.
I can’t leave out the guys. Especially the roided up, oiled up, hunks with their so-called perfect bodies. Do we need to see you in your too tight speedos showing off your ballet dancer style packages? I don’t think so.
My fellow Americans, we must have a beach dress code! Please think about it.
This is my area of grave concern. Most people feel free to dress in the manner that is comfortable to them. On the surface nothing is wrong with this. But in reality, it can be a harry situation for the eyes to see. This is why I think a beach dress code is badly needed. The code doesn’t have to be formal or enforceable by law, it would just be something people would adhere to naturally.
In a business office setting women are not going to show up in a halter and a micro mini dress. Men don’t come to work wearing a suit coat and no shirt. We need the same kind of responsible behavior when it comes to visiting the beach.
Now I have nothing against plus sized women enjoying the beach. But let’s face it, is any kind of two piece bathing suit a great look for you? I think not.
Full figure men. Do you really need to be shirtless at the beach, especially if you have man boobs so large you can make Pamela Anderson envious? My answer would be no.
I know some places have ordinances against women wearing thong or G-string bottoms. Apparently parents are concerned about their children seeing female butts. But let’s face it, we’re in the age of the internet, cable TV, texting, and Girls Gone Wild. If kids really want to see bare buns, they’ll find someplace to see them. What might be more disturbing to kids is to see a well-boobed man with a pregnant belly. Can you imagine a kid saying:
"Mama, that man has breasts like you. Is he pregnant? I thought only women can have babies."
Full figure types are hardly the only offenders. For all you large boobed women that wear bikini tops a couple sizes too small, don’t be surprised when all male eyes are upon you in anticipation of a major wardrobe malfunction.
I can’t leave out the guys. Especially the roided up, oiled up, hunks with their so-called perfect bodies. Do we need to see you in your too tight speedos showing off your ballet dancer style packages? I don’t think so.
My fellow Americans, we must have a beach dress code! Please think about it.
Monday, June 1, 2009
The Fame and Shame Game
The other night after I, for some unknown reason, had just watched my fourth celebrity and entertainment half hour magazine show, it dawned on me that I was watching way too many celebrity and entertainment shows. But the fact that so many shows exist underscores our ever growing obsession with celebrity and fame. Either we hunger for news about this or that celebrity, or we long to become one ourselves. So it's no surprise that an ever growing publication and broadcast industry has exploded centering around the fame game. But the funny thing is no matter how horny, crazed, alcohol and drug addicted, marrying and divorcing celebrities are, they don't seem to do this at a fast enough rate to fill all those publication pages or broadcast time. One solution has been the time-honored practice of fabricating stories based on half truths, or no truth at all. The other is the Orwellian practice of rumor is truth, and truth is rumor, meaning a news source can report an item as rumor, then others will pick it up and report it until those involved in the rumor have to respond as if the rumor was based in fact.
Just at the right moment the reality TV craze came along just in time to feed the celebrity monster. Now you don't have to accomplish anything in areas like the arts or sports over a period of time. You just have to participate in one of these shows that get decent ratings.
And what do you have to do to qualify? Attempt to sing. Attempt being the key word. If you can actually sing you may launch a professional singing career. If you suck to high heaven, you get a one shot dose of national humiliation. The fame game can be cruel. But hey, fame is fame.
Other roads to fame are right there for you if you're willing to grovel for the attention of some semi-desirable bachelor or bachelorette along with a dozen or so other potential permanent suitors. Or you can journey to some godforsaken island where you will be starved to death, eaten alive by exotic insects, and lied to, backstabbed, and double-crossed by just about every other human being present. All for the chance to win a million dollars. And if you want to extent your fifteen minutes of fame you can do like one winner and not pay taxes and hope the IRS won't notice. Of course that won't work, and the press will be right there to cover your trial and conviction for tax evasion. Another venue for the fame-shame game is the TV talk show. When they run out of real celebrities guests, reality stars will have to do. Check out this talk show exchange: "We're back. I'm Blink Nesbie. And my next guest is London Bridges, heir to the Super Ribbed condom empire, and reality TV star. London, it's great to have you hear." "Yeah, like, it's really cool being here with you. You're kinda cute." "Well thank you. You're a lovely young lady. Now let's talk about your career. It began with your appearance on the reality show Let's Eat Some Insects. What was it like eating so many insects?' "Well, you know, it was kind of cool once you got used to it." "What did they taste like?" "Chicken mostly. Some like sunflower seeds." "Of course," smiled the host. "Before the reality show, you had those sex tapes leak out." "Yeah. That was unfortunate. People say they were dirty sex tapes, but they really weren't." "There was the one where your naked butt was spanked by a guy using raw spaghetti sticks." "Oh yeah. Let me explain that. The guy was a chef at a restaurant my family owns. He had been in a down mood. It was a therapy thing." "But what about the tape of the guy licking chocolate syrup off your nude body?" "I was helping a friend get over an eating disorder." "Really." "Yeah. For sure. I'm not a freaky hoocie. I'm really not."
Just at the right moment the reality TV craze came along just in time to feed the celebrity monster. Now you don't have to accomplish anything in areas like the arts or sports over a period of time. You just have to participate in one of these shows that get decent ratings.
And what do you have to do to qualify? Attempt to sing. Attempt being the key word. If you can actually sing you may launch a professional singing career. If you suck to high heaven, you get a one shot dose of national humiliation. The fame game can be cruel. But hey, fame is fame.
Other roads to fame are right there for you if you're willing to grovel for the attention of some semi-desirable bachelor or bachelorette along with a dozen or so other potential permanent suitors. Or you can journey to some godforsaken island where you will be starved to death, eaten alive by exotic insects, and lied to, backstabbed, and double-crossed by just about every other human being present. All for the chance to win a million dollars. And if you want to extent your fifteen minutes of fame you can do like one winner and not pay taxes and hope the IRS won't notice. Of course that won't work, and the press will be right there to cover your trial and conviction for tax evasion. Another venue for the fame-shame game is the TV talk show. When they run out of real celebrities guests, reality stars will have to do. Check out this talk show exchange: "We're back. I'm Blink Nesbie. And my next guest is London Bridges, heir to the Super Ribbed condom empire, and reality TV star. London, it's great to have you hear." "Yeah, like, it's really cool being here with you. You're kinda cute." "Well thank you. You're a lovely young lady. Now let's talk about your career. It began with your appearance on the reality show Let's Eat Some Insects. What was it like eating so many insects?' "Well, you know, it was kind of cool once you got used to it." "What did they taste like?" "Chicken mostly. Some like sunflower seeds." "Of course," smiled the host. "Before the reality show, you had those sex tapes leak out." "Yeah. That was unfortunate. People say they were dirty sex tapes, but they really weren't." "There was the one where your naked butt was spanked by a guy using raw spaghetti sticks." "Oh yeah. Let me explain that. The guy was a chef at a restaurant my family owns. He had been in a down mood. It was a therapy thing." "But what about the tape of the guy licking chocolate syrup off your nude body?" "I was helping a friend get over an eating disorder." "Really." "Yeah. For sure. I'm not a freaky hoocie. I'm really not."
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