I have an aversion to celebrity, faux celebrity, wannabe celebrity, blah blah, brainsplatting blah celebrity. It all disgusts me. Worse yet, it baffles me those who get some form of celebrity via Reality Show "fame." People who aspire to that type of thing, not even faking a talent of some sort, they really repulse me.
Yes, repulse!
Because whenever I see a snippet of a Reality Show via a commercial, on the rare occasions I am in front of a TV, I cringe to think these whining bipeds have anything to do with the human race I believe I am a part of. Especially when most Reality Show set-ups highlight the lowest characteristics of being human. Greed and deceipt and the finagling ways of the bottom-feeders dragging knuckles and integrity through the muck they call life. Anyway, side-tracking but, yeah, celebrity and those who obsess over them, I don't get it. Why, when I log online, am I inundated with such World Shaking News Events as, well, how about from today: Rhianna's New Tattoo, Justin Bieber's Fashion Flubs, Joan Rivers Without Makeup (!!!), and Snooki...this or that? Okay, no Snooki today, one of the rare occasions, along with no Kardashian nonsense, but I hate that my brain space even acknowledges knowing a wee bit about these...these...[don't do it, John Claude. Don't stoop to their gold-lined gutter sub-level] [yes, I understand how the tail end of that statement might, just might be construed as stooping, but I'm standing up now and no, I won't go there anymore]...
Do you actually care? I mean...really? Why? And what the F**k is a Snooki? (I found out, actually, and utilized the info in...oh, wait, don't let me get ahead of myself.)
But...it does inspire some of my poetry. My head-shaking observations of the human race as it skids into a ditch brings out some vitriolic verses or slingshot stanzas or simply Words of Truth!!! [horns blaring, bows taken, thank you, thank you...]
My poetry deals with many things, from the dark places I enjoy exploring, to love, erotica, sex and World View observations, be it politics or the misuse of technology or the misuse of Mother Nature...or the mind-numbing shenanigans of celebrities I don't give a flying squirrel about.
Of which, a lot of the latter disgust--ah, there's that word again--hooks into the misuse of money that comes with the celebrity lifestyle, but that's for another time, another poem, but right now, here's an example of my poetry and, yes, I use the word loosely, that relates to this mindset.
Just an excuse to spew and have fun while doing it, hehe...
The poem is called, "Psychologically Corrosive Elements in Mass Media, Adopted by Angelina Jolie, Sponsored by Budweiser, Disney, Oprah and The Food Channel, Circa 2011." Yes, really. It was published in the ever cool Zouch magazine last year. The editor made a comment of sensing a Ginsberg vibe in my poetry, probably because of this one; too kind, but made me smile. And the quote by Snooki at the end, yes, Snooki, for all the Snooki fans reading this blog, is real. Another reason for me to shake my head.
Enjoy!
Psychologically Corrosive Elements in Mass Media,
Adopted by Angelina Jolie, Sponsored by Budweiser, Disney, Oprah and The Food
Channel, Circa 2011
by
John Claude Smith
Born under the watchful eye of
Cathode “Ray” Cyclops--
a Jerry Bruckheimer Production!
in association with ESPN and Apple
digital convenience at your fingertips
(Blackberry; iPOD; iPAD)
God of Image and Narcissism
God of Forgotten Humanity
Wrung like blood-stained clothe
(CSI DNA CBS personalized SKU)
the celluloid ‘stains’ perceptions:
the EGO is the basis for all decisions:
what is good for me is good for me
SO (a Simon Cowell/Nightline Special Report)
Misguided under the watchful eye of
Cathode “Ray” Cyclops--
A Jerry Bruckheimer Production!
society’s jacked-in downloaded voyeuristic screen time
rolls infinitely like the credits to a James Cameron
movie
across the monitors within wasted twitterazzi minds
not Sony or Toshiba but Lindsey and Paris
Progenitors to the 21st Century Child®
connections impersonal as the touch of flesh
and the simmer of Self-Love
“I thought I broke my vagina bone…it was terrible.”--Snooki
Despite, or perhaps because of, the fact that you are possibly barking mad, I agree with every word you say.
ReplyDeleteHaha, thanks, Andy! Barking mad works for me. ;-) And thanks for reading, too!
ReplyDeleteBarking mad=Kardashian et al.
ReplyDeleteHello, Jill and, yes, your point is Completely Valid! ;-) All of them, indeed!
ReplyDelete