The Random Griffith

We need to stop elevatin’ skanky hoes to famehood

Posted in celebrity ooze by Jackson Griffith on 30/08/2010

First, let’s get one thing straight: I totally love sex. I think sexual union, and the bliss that emanates from it when it’s good, are, you know, the pinnacle of marvelousness. I think people should have lots of good healthy sex, and that when people have lots of good healthy sex, they tend not to be so crinkly and saditty and besotten with crossed-up conditions and flumjummery. In fact, I wish I was having good healthy sex right this minute, because then I would be mellow as a cello afterward and I’d probably take a pass on what I’m about to go all scribbular with, probably because I’ve been getting nothing but eithergasms these days. (You know what that is, right? It’s like, I must be getting lots of eithergasms, because I sho’ ain’t gettin’ no muthafuggin’ orgasms.)

But I digress. I’d be all like, thanks, sweetie, but why get worked up about anything? Would you be so kind as to dip that tree of grapes toward my mouth again so I can nibble, contemplate the fall of empire and then restore my magick wand and go all Caligula on your magnificent ass one more time?

Where the whole ball of confusion gets slightly problematic, at least for me, is when a person becomes famous for, well, fucking, or sucking, or getting an endless parade of professional-sports sausage to blow loads in their face, and then they parlay that to tabloid top-tennery. Like, well, take the daughter of one of O.J. Simpson’s now-deceased close personal friends, a woman who not only got famous for making a sex tape, wherein her putatively bubblicious gluteus maximus got tapped, thus instantaneously realigning her status from tight end to wide receiver, by a second-rate rapper whose only real claim to fame is that his sister was child star turned contemporary hit radio format star Brandy, and then the very same second-rate rapper took what we in the Central Valley call a good country-style piss on her face. Or so I have heard, as Kwim Lardassian’s turn as a porn queen was up there with Elizabeth Berkley’s film debut in Paul Verhoeven’s unintentional classic, Showgirls, and at least Showgirls was marginally interesting because it had Gina Gershon in it. To paraphrase Samuel Goldwyn, I watched part of the Kwim tape all the way through. A small part, really; what I saw moved me from squickage to sleepytime.

Okay, now answer me this question: Why in fuckety fuck’s sake are we making these people famous? Why are these people being elevated to international renown, to magazine covers, to cable television shows? What fucking talent do idiots like Kwim Lardassian have that merits any kind of attention at all? Are they saving the planet? Are they helping to solve the British Petroleum Disaster in the Gulf of Mexico? Are they doing anything that benefits humankind?

No. They’re fucking shopping somewhere, or getting loads blown in their faces by dumb jocks.

I really think the genius of Mizz (rhymes with “jizz”) Lardassian is that she’s parlayed a sex tape of a lousy lay and a golden shower into not only her own fame, but she’s managed to foist her sisters — um, Kuntknee’s one, and the other one’s named, I think, Khloechop, and there’s her little sisters Khrunteee and Kooteee — into the limelight, too, plus her Jocelyn Wildensteinesque mom and Olympic-athlete-turned-plastic-surgery-casualty stepdad, and a bunch of other Tapout mooks and maloofuses, some of them allegedly sporting professionals.

But gosh darned no-lubrication intercourse them colonically with a big stiff grizzly bear chubby, really, along with the whole Comcast machine that foisted them into prominence, and pushed idiot nobodies like that Chelsea Handler bint into the public consciousness. If I was anyone with juice in our nation’s capital, I’d be down there showing our senators and representatives episodes of Keeping Up With the Kardashians just to make the point that Comcast is the corporate entity responsible for foisting that swill, and is it really any kind of good idea to let those morons get their hands on NBC? Yeah, NBC and its broadcast properties can be pretty dumb, but nowhere near as full-on paint-sniffing stupid as Comcast. Hey, you want to hand what’s left of broadcast media over to Short Bus Incorporated? Comcast is right up there with Rupert Murdoch.

Actually, Murdoch’s properties have done some good things (Donnie Darko, Office Space, Idiocracy), and one gets the idea that ol’ Rupe gets a good laugh that Americans are such cough syrup-guzzling dopes that they’ll take the saucer-kook ravings of Glenn Beck and the chihuahua biscuit-wheedling of Sean Hannity seriously; at Comcast, you know they’re not in on the joke, because they started as cable TV clowns in Philadelphia, the city that booed Santa Claus, even if Santa was drunk off his fat ass.

I’m not sure about you, but I think there should be a moratorium on skanky hoes and idiot tools being catapulted to instant fame by corporate media properties whose principal interest seems to be dumbing down the populace as far as they can so that people will buy whatever tripe the broadcasters are foisting. We need more science instead. We need to start making scientists and smart people our heroes, and stop elevating people whose only virtue, or lack of virtue, is that they like to go shopping, and they tweet their daily inanities, and then they have sex with other stupid people and there’s a camera, and then somehow they get famous and they start getting paid five-figure sums just to show up at parties and nightclubs.

Because if we keep listening to idiots, the only thing we’ll know how to do is, well, fuck, to put it in coarse French terms. Yep. Fuck and go shopping. Meanwhile, hell, meet handbasket, with us in it. So we need to start boning up on stuff again (pun entirely unintended), and while we’re at it, we might stop watching spoiled people run rampant with their entitlement issues, and start watching things that have a teensy bit more uplift value.

I’ll get off my little soapbox now. Sorry for the rant. Well, not really. —Jackson Griffith

I posted this a while back, then took it down. In light of certain recent events, I figured it might be something a few of you might find worth reading. Or, maybe not.

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