Violent Acres

I don’t really write much about Paris Hilton or Brad Pitt or whoever because I care even less about their day to day lives than I do about yours. I don’t need to know what they decided to name their adopted African children, nor am I particularly concerned with how much they’ve spent on collars for their dogs. Pictures of them frolicking on the beach bore me and their red carpet witticisms make my head hurt. I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m mildly disturbed by societies penchant to engage in celebrity worship. Furthermore, I strongly suspect that every single person who subscribes to People Magazine or US Weekly is a fucking retard.

Or maybe I just don’t get it. After all, it really does seem like I’m outnumbered. Every time I turn around, I come in contact with celebrity news. Paris Hilton drives without a license and the entire world goes nuts. Lindsey Lohan gets drunk and we can’t wait to read about her future stint in rehab. Rosie gets into a fight with Trump or some blond bimbo on some television show and all of the sudden we’re shelving news about the war or the economy or the world to listen to them bicker. I turn on my television and I’m assaulted by television shows where I can actually see inside their houses! Or find out how much they spend on jewelry! Look! Here’s a picture of their stretch marks!

It’s fucking ridiculous. It seems like we gave the celebrities the big screen, the TV, the media, the Internet, the radio and our souls. And why not? They’re the ones living the American dream, aren’t they?

Speaking of the American dream, has anyone noticed how much it’s changed? The American dream used to be about owning a modest home, having a happy family, and supporting yourself with honest, hard work. No one vies for things like that anymore.

Now we want obnoxious mansions, plastic surgery, designer children, and teeth made of gold. Life doesn’t seem worth living unless we can get invites to all the best parties or fly around the world in a private jet. Minimally, we’d like to star in at least one reality TV show!

The average American spends half of their time chasing this new unattainable version of the American dream and the other half of their time watching those who are living it.

But, here’s the kicker: No seems troubled by the fact that so many celebrities seem absolutely miserable. In fact, it’s almost as if their unhappiness and heartache thrills us. Sure, we may feign polite interest at a heartwarming story featuring Oprah at a school opening, but what we really want to hear is the dirt. Show us the scars from the bad boob jobs! Let us listen to the audio of them screaming at their children! Make public their drug addictions and struggles with body image! Give us the gory details on their imploding marriages or broken friendships!

Tell us that they’re unhappy, so we can look down on them and say to ourselves that if we were in their position, we wouldn’t be such fuck ups!

Isn’t it weird that when shit hits the fan we assume the problem lies with the celebrity and not with the lifestyle? We condemn celebrities for being stupid and spoiled because it makes us feel better about our failure to attain what they have. We look down our noses at a princess with coke on her nose because it’s the only time in our lives when society tells us it’s OK to feel superior.

It’s a trick, people. It’s a clever sleight of the hand. We are shown enough of the lives of celebrities to make us secretly (Or not so secretly) want to emulate them, but should we ever get discouraged with the chase, we are shown the spoiled, rich brats fucking it all up.

The message is clear: Happiness is 14 room mansions with crews of people to clean up after you. Happiness is pedigree dogs and elevators made for your fleet of cars. Happiness is personal chefs and dishing with Kathy Griffin on which neighbor is the biggest bitch. Right now, Mary Kate Olson has access to happiness. But that ungrateful bitch is spending all of her time clutching a toilet and pissing it all away. You are the ones who really deserve it, so keep chasing!

And what is happening while we’re all spending our time chasing this crazy, fucked up version of the American dream? Why, the handful of people who are actually in power are laughing at us while they simultaneously rape resources, steal more wealth, and send children off to die so they can buy another set of cuff links. Oh, and on their down time, they dream up more unrealistic goals for us to adopt so we don’t give them any shit about it, either. On the off chance we do get a little upset, they can just funnel a few million more bottles of prozac down to the little people until we’re all pleasantly oblivious to the world around us. After all, it’s far easier to rule over stupid cows than it is to deal with angry adults.

I know I sound like a conspiracy theorist. But it amazes me that so few people have not realized that problem is not with the individual celebrity, but the lifestyle they’re living. I suspect that any person living in a cold, sterile, prepackaged, soulless environment might have a few problems remaining on an even keel.

I guess what it comes down to is a simple question of the lesser of two evils. Who, pray tell, is more pathetic?

Those who live their lives in excess…mindlessly consuming more and more until they end up self destructing?

Or those who secretly envy them?

Who should we pity more?

Those who live empty existences revolving around status, material belongings, and artificial relationships?

Or those who would give up their lives to watch them live theirs?

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