Sunday, May 15, 2005

For some time now I have had a mighty and thoughtful blog entry in mind. I wanted to punch out something meaningful and considered. This was to be a serious and significant commentary on things and stuff, as well as my contribution to the furtherance of the worldwide discourse on events and people and whatnot.

But I haven't gotten around to it just yet.

And here I am, with nothing meaningful, mighty, thoughtful, considered, serious, significant, or discursive to say. So why am I posting anyway? Well. I'm glad you asked.

There is a television show in Germany called "Wetten Das?". It consists of stupid human tricks, basically, but with the twist that "celebrity" guests have to bet on whether the stupid human can actually do what they say they can do. Being a German show, most of the celebrities are German. But since celebrity knows no borders, neither does the show. Tonight's episode, for example, is coming live from Turkey, in front of a massive audience in an old Roman amphitheater (the show only comes on a few times a year, so as to embiggen the deal). Birgit and I are/were watching it because Birgit's sister's boyfriend is in the audience and we hoped to catch a glimpse of him (we haven't).

That we haven't caught a glimpse of Murat means that this has been nothing more than a waste of time. But one of the "celebrities" on the show makes it more than simply that. It makes it a pain in my ass. It makes it a craw-sticker.

I am not a big fan of the whole "celebrity" thing, but I reserve a special loathing for those famous people who have done nothing (such as act or sing or dance or play sports or what have you) to earn their fame in some way. I really hate, in other words, people who are famous for being famous. If I ask someone "who is that person?", I want to hear that the person is a performer or thing-doer of some sort.

A couple of years ago, I started to see mentions of tonight's offender on the internets. I was puzzled enough to ask either Sara or Scott about the person. I was disappointed to learn that the person is the very model of fame resulting from fame. This person is Why They Hate Us. This person is why I hate us. I hate people who like this person, hate people who find this person interesting, hate people who find this person remotely distracting. I hate myself for getting so angry about this person. I hate the fact that I have been out of the US (and therefore out of this person's famefeeder) for all but a month or so of this person's 15 minutes and STILL I find myself confronted with this person.

This person is PARIS HILTON. Paris Hilton was just on German television. Why? Well, because she is famous. What did she do to get famous? As near as I can tell she sucked some dude's dick. There must be something more to her fame than that, of course, since otherwise I can think of several people I can personally endorse as equally deserving of fame (some more than others, if you want to get right down to it, and one more deserving of infamy than fame).

Has she ever done ANYTHING else which might have drawn the disembodied, flaming eye that is German popular culture? No. Just the dick sucking. And yet there she was. Just now. On my TV.

I hate. So much.

In happier news, look Carlton-ward.


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