Pfunksfoolosophy

I dont’ know about you folks, but I am really getting tired of hearing about Britney, Paris, Nicole, Lindsay and all the rest. Even mentioning them in this blog is giving them attention.

That makes me nutty. Remember when we actually got NEWS when we tuned in? Now, the 15 minutes of fame people ARE the news. We didn’t get the constant barrage of celebrity information when I was growing up. You only got the Rona Barrett report and that was blessedly brief. Usually involved Zsa Zsa Gabor. SHE was the Paris Hilton of my day (sorta) and she had the decency to keep her panties on. She just married a lot. Gotta respect that. No talent to speak of, but we never saw photos of her vagina or video of her engaging in a sexual encounter. The thing is, WE are creating the market by purchasing tabloids and tuning in to every entertainment news outlet we can get our grubby little hands on.
We have so many blogs and websites devoted to entertainment gossip that I am convinced that I know entirely too much about Angelina Jolie. I don’t even read them, but I feel as though I’m contributing somehow by just seeing them. It’s my feeling that we’ve got to cry ‘Uncle’ soon or I’m going to become the tabloid sniper.
What happened to private lives being private? I do NOT want to know why Nicole is so skinny. I don’t care. I’ve got rent to pay.

Paris Hilton’s jail time that never was? Sweet mother of heaven! Who cares?
I heartily pray that after each news soundbite the reporter will say: And for the record, I couldn’t care less. Wait–nope. I really couldn’t. Back to you, Mary!

What if we all wrote in and said: We don’t care. We. Just. Don’t. Care.

It doesn’t make me feel better to know that some starlet has a substance abuse problem due to the fact that she’s the chief breadwinner in her family and that precludes sound parenting. It saddens me.

I don’t delight in the misery of some undereducated songstress who makes horrible choices for herself and her children; I want to get her home number and tell her to bunk with me for a little while until she can get her head on straight. And I want to wash her mouth out with soap. And get her to some parenting classes.

Foolosophy is about being forgiving and lending a hand when it’s needed. It’s about loving well and often. It’s not about being a sin voyeur, ya know?
I can’t point a finger at someone, man. All I can do is pray that these poor kids make it home okay.

Chances are, they won’t. So, I’ve gotta take a break from television for a time. I can’t bring myself to make fun of them anymore. What if it was one of my kids in this kind of trouble?
I would want compassion offered them.  It doesn’t matter if these kids are wealthy and famous. They are in trouble. They’re rudderless and guess what? Our derision isn’t helpful.

It’s not entertaining.
Poor kids. I really DO hope they make it home okay.

This entry was posted on Friday, September 14th, 2007 at 1:28 am and is filed under Entertainment. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.