Misanthropic Meanderings

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Location: California, United States

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Friday, January 26, 2007

bloviate blowhards of bullshit

Here's something odd I've noticed while living the life virtual. First and foremost, fame means you've earned hatred. Doesn't matter what you've done, unless it involved serving the poor and dying quickly thereafter, people will hate you at least 60% of the time. Second, if you are female, you will be hated 80% of the time. If you are not a beautiful female, you will be hated 95% of the time.

Right now, the haters delight in one person, Oprah. Oprah is fat, Oprah made her money off peoples misery, Oprah's a suck up, Oprah is touchy-feely crap, Oprah is ignorant, Oprah is evil. The latest wickedness she's done is...open a school for girls in Africa. OMIGOD! CALL OUT NATO! How does she do such wickedness & not go to jail?! What? She's horrible for building a school in an underfunded country, serving the most opportunity denied populace, young women? The reason why this is wrong may surprise you. It's because schools in America could've used the money. I'm sorry, I do believe we actually have both a tax base that is richer & a government with a supposed mandate to support education for all. I didn't know Oprah should only support the richest country in the world because she lives here. So much for freedom.

I can abide hating Oprah, just because. Nobody has to love anyone else. You simply have to tolerate them. What I find interesting is, that as Oprah gained in power & money, hating her is the cool thing to do. Why should you hate Oprah? Because so many people love her. hm. It's a lot like dropping the cool indie band once they make it big. It’s odd that good deeds are a consistant cause of punishment. She helps Katrina victims-she's then exploiting Katrina victims. She promotes book reading with her club-she's pandering to the masses. Does anyone rag on Jerry Springer or Maury Povitch for their daytime freakshows with almost no social redeeming values beyond paychecks for our nations tv booth switchers & chicago/ny studio staff? Are these somehow better people?

Reality shows with ungodly levels of exploitation such as Survivor, American Idol, Top Chef, Top Model, Apprentice, is there any huge online outcry against people getting rich off of those? Not really. In fact, those are hugely popular. What is Oprah's crime then?

I'd say she not only has the gaul to be female, black, fat (at least previously) and on tv, likeshe's worthy or something, but she also has the temerity to share the wealth. How dare she give stuff away to audience members or to foreigner children! And this nonsense of trying to be positive & educational by bringing up social issues like women's rights in Afghanistan 3 years before we invade or teaching josephine blow about global warming & mad cow disease, well, how dare she! If only she could sit on her money, talk about herself or better yet spew her opinions forth, often while being utterly wrong, then she'd be okay. And if she were a man.

Dammit, why can't she be just like Bill O'Reilly. That would be great.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Operation

A few things crossed my mind in the run-up to, during & after my operation. During the pre-op examine, when my doctor & I were still wondering what we'd do & how we'd do it, I had to hop up onto the olde exam table for a quick peek. I resisted the urge to mention it's customary to offer a meal and a few drinks before a woman's expected to flash all. I couldn't resist the urge to point out that gyn exams always make me want to sing "Back in the Saddle Again".

Before I got wheeled in to be carved like a christmas goose, the anesthesiologist stopped by. He kept talking to me about nothing in particular, all the while shaking these little bottles. Every so often he'd put one of them into the IV in my arm. I kept wondering if he thought he was fooling me by chatting me up as he put narcotic shit in my arm. I barely recall him leaving and next thing I know I wake up 7 hours later, in a strange room, with my legs being massaged by some mechanised booties that went from ankle to thigh. It's like classic bing drinking moment minus hookers & 12 bottles of scotch. Wasn't this an ABC afterschool special?

There's even more inappropriate humour in recovery but I'll spare you all that for now, except for these little words: friction itch. Time for my nap.

Friday, January 05, 2007

Post Holiday Blues

Well, we survived the juggernaut called "Christmas". Go us. I don't know if Hanukkah or Ramadan suffers from a surfeit of marketing blitzs or worst of all, huge, unattainable expectations, but I predict in about 120 years, they too, will be sick of holiday songs by November 12th & bemoaning credit card bills on january 8th. What can I say. I love the holiday, hate the accoutrements.

This will be the first christmas I missed out on celebrating with my friends and my gifting did not match other seasons. I was in hospital from the 21st until the 23rd, having an 'ectomy. On the one hand, I do wish I had scheduled it a bit later, but, time really was of the essence. My big holiday celibration involved ensuring I could sit up, swallow pills and move myself to the bathroom so I could leave before christmas. I spent a lot of time watching midnite specials on cable, with my legs in massaging boots. In a way, this was the most restful holiday I've had in a while. And, it was a relief to not be surrounded by tinsel. But I'm sorry I missed the dinner.

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