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This is reality. Feed this child, not the monster.
That’s it! I’ve had it! I have reached my boiling point this week after that whiny, arrogant, talentless, spoiled princess, who shall forever remain nameless on my blog, got a divorce after only 72 days of marriage. Whoopty freakin’ do. Nobody who lives in the real world is surprised and yet, YET, it is front page news. It’s on every cover of every celebrity mag, it’s even news on what was once considered “credible” news sources. Can’t.Stop.Gritting.Teeth.
If the media is the mirror reflecting back on us, then we’re a sad, pathetic lot for sure. It’s not just this insipid woman and her family that are dragging us down, but the reality “superstar” in general, like the people in Jersey Shore, Real Housewives, or Toddlers and Tiaras. I have never, not even once, watched one of those shows and I know way more than I ever want to about them because it spills over into every other aspect of our culture. It’s like smut osmosis. Totally unavoidable.
I think now is the time to invest in a good pair of hip waders, because the crap is being piled so fast around us, it’s going to be hard to get out of soon. When as a society we hold up the likes of that family as “celebrities” then I can only say this; we’re fucked. Is this who we hold up for our sons and daughters as role models? People who make sex tapes to become famous? People who whore themselves out for money? People with no talent, who only take and not give? “Of course we don’t”, we say, “these people are a joke”. Right? It’s what we all say to each other. So, riddle me this. Why are these people becoming millionaires? Who’s helping them get there? We are, with our unending need to rubberneck at the train wreck.
I struggle daily to find role models for my daughters in contemporary media and currently have a choice of “not so bad”, “passable” or “not a chance”. Where’s the great? Where’s the inspiring? They exist, I have to believe they exist, it’s just that the media doesn’t think they can sell that. A long time ago, the media bought into the “sex sells” mentality and now, can’t or won’t, break out of that prison they’ve built for us.
Here’s something else that really bothers me about our obsession with these people. When we allow ourselves to wallow in the cesspool, we lose a grip on the really important things. Like, oh, I don’t know, the fact that a there are almost 11 MILLION PEOPLE STARVING IN AFRICA. This person’s pathetic marriage and impending divorce is not news and we poison the well when we allow it to be.
There is no doubt that we can’t live all bad news all the time either. We should be able to laugh, smile, and have fun with the lighter side of life. Lifestyle news, humour columns, fashion pages, help lighten things up. But let me ask you this? When you read about these people, do you feel better? About yourself, maybe, because you’re not such a freakin’ disaster. But as a society, do you think we’re raising ourselves up? Every time you pick up a magazine with one of them on the cover you feed the machine, every time you watch one of those shows you feed the machine. You help the monster grow. And you also make the monster very rich. Grotesquely rich.
We, as a society helped pay for that $20 million dollar 72 day farce of a marriage. I was wondering what $20 million could have done for good so I went to the World Vision website and checked out their costs. For that much money 4,761 children could have been sponsored for 10 years. 1,333 wells could have been drilled. 200,000 medical clinics could have been stocked with life saving medication. Finally, 400,000 classrooms could have been stocked with school supplies.
Think about that before you pick up that next tabloid with what's-her-names face plastered all over it. Let’s raise the bar before it crushes us under its weight.
Full disclosure: pre-children I used to buy one smutty magazine a week. It was pre-reality television thankfully and celebrities were there because they had a talent besides sex tapes to fall back on. When my first daughter was born, I became much more critical (as we all do) and decided I didn’t want those lying around the house. The messages we send about body, love, and life through those magazines are distorted and sick. I made a conscious decision not to contribute to the smut osmosis.