Dave’s short words on celeb culture.
Anna Nicole’s death is the American newsmedia equivalent of a winning the lottery, which as the obvious metaphor would be, the same kind of life Anna Nicole had.
From hillbilly, to stripper, to national icon, to a Naked Gun star sex pot, to pill popper, to rehab, to sex pot, to shill, to lucky mother, to corpse.
Save the life of her baby child, I wish this had happened about 5 years ago.
Let’s just do Fitz here.
“There are no second acts in American Life.”
He was right, but he was wrong about one thing. For a largely Christian nation, we are a culture that loves the idea of resurrection and redemption.
Anna Nicole didn’t deserve a resurrection, and the fact her life was turned around because of a TV show which lead her to be comfortable is a bitter bowl of pudding, not because she was given the shot, but because it came at her expense “it’s not supposed to be funny, it just is” was the tagline. She deserved, as a human, a chance to live her life in relative peace, free of her 15 minute baggage.
Maybe blondes have more fun. Maybe that’s (along with two other reasons) we were attracted to her enough to care about her more than a normal supermodel. Maybe it was her naïve stupidity (or yokel charm) that made her endearing enough to actually follow her…by which I mean we would be sympathetic to her plight in the basic struggles on a new level.
The problem I have is this… she doesn’t deserve this send off. She deserves a quiet send off. An emotional note of sorrow, and a wish for her family’s best.
Steaze said this when the 10 p news came on. “She lived more in 39 years than most live in 5 lifetimes.”
Yeah. I agree.
++++
To sour this mood, I think of one of the lost classics of the 1990’s. 1998 had 5 great films.
Saving Private Ryan #1 of the decade
Rushmore #3 of the decade
Out of Sight
The Truman Show
And a Simple Plan.
No one remembers a Simple Plan. A genuine masterpiece from Sam Raimi, it’s a harrowing tale of suspicious fortune that ends in the worst way. Normal, poor people get a shot a great life, and then see the dream fade away due to greed and lack of trust.
The movie follows Bill Paxton (Hank) through this as the narrative. He is in, if I remember, 100% of the film’s actions.
His brother Jacob, played by Billy Bob Thornton, has a speech that goes something like this:
“I ain’t really ever been in love, or even really been with a girl. I remember one time a few years ago I started getting affection from this real pretty girl, and for a couple of weeks, we went along, her interested in me, going on dates. I remember one time we went for a walk, in the park, and she held my hand. I know it’s not much, but it was special, because, that’s about the best I ever had. Later on, I learned she was only doing it because of a bet with her friends, that I was a game. I don’t know, it still was nice. I think about that, even if it wasn’t real. It’d be nice to have that for real, once in my life. But I know that’s not really how it’s supposed to be.”
In one of those “what’s wrong with America” opines, that about sums up how I feel. Why waste time a blond who was given it all.
In the end, it just makes it all feel worse in compared to them, they were charmed, we were not. When we feel a sense of superiority when they falter, or conversely a sense of empathy when those who never did anything to contribute to life but pick the right numbers, it makes us worse as a people.
Save your tears for the Johnny Carson’s, the George Harrison’s, and the Mel Blanc’s. They did something for all of us, they connected us through art, not through news. Those are the only entertainers worth shedding tears for. They united us, not just in entertainment, but in because they did their part as artists to make the world feel smaller, and a bit more welcome, because growing up in America, it's hard not to be touched by one, if not all three of the aforementioned. When they pass, a part of who we were goes with them. That's the funeral of a great artist, that the result of a great life's end.
The rest are just dots on the grand maps of life, distractions from the real journey. I’m ashamed, as an American, that Anna Nicole Smith was even a dot, and doubly ashamed that we’re reporting on her death. It was her and her families loss, not ours.
From hillbilly, to stripper, to national icon, to a Naked Gun star sex pot, to pill popper, to rehab, to sex pot, to shill, to lucky mother, to corpse.
Save the life of her baby child, I wish this had happened about 5 years ago.
Let’s just do Fitz here.
“There are no second acts in American Life.”
He was right, but he was wrong about one thing. For a largely Christian nation, we are a culture that loves the idea of resurrection and redemption.
Anna Nicole didn’t deserve a resurrection, and the fact her life was turned around because of a TV show which lead her to be comfortable is a bitter bowl of pudding, not because she was given the shot, but because it came at her expense “it’s not supposed to be funny, it just is” was the tagline. She deserved, as a human, a chance to live her life in relative peace, free of her 15 minute baggage.
Maybe blondes have more fun. Maybe that’s (along with two other reasons) we were attracted to her enough to care about her more than a normal supermodel. Maybe it was her naïve stupidity (or yokel charm) that made her endearing enough to actually follow her…by which I mean we would be sympathetic to her plight in the basic struggles on a new level.
The problem I have is this… she doesn’t deserve this send off. She deserves a quiet send off. An emotional note of sorrow, and a wish for her family’s best.
Steaze said this when the 10 p news came on. “She lived more in 39 years than most live in 5 lifetimes.”
Yeah. I agree.
++++
To sour this mood, I think of one of the lost classics of the 1990’s. 1998 had 5 great films.
Saving Private Ryan #1 of the decade
Rushmore #3 of the decade
Out of Sight
The Truman Show
And a Simple Plan.
No one remembers a Simple Plan. A genuine masterpiece from Sam Raimi, it’s a harrowing tale of suspicious fortune that ends in the worst way. Normal, poor people get a shot a great life, and then see the dream fade away due to greed and lack of trust.
The movie follows Bill Paxton (Hank) through this as the narrative. He is in, if I remember, 100% of the film’s actions.
His brother Jacob, played by Billy Bob Thornton, has a speech that goes something like this:
“I ain’t really ever been in love, or even really been with a girl. I remember one time a few years ago I started getting affection from this real pretty girl, and for a couple of weeks, we went along, her interested in me, going on dates. I remember one time we went for a walk, in the park, and she held my hand. I know it’s not much, but it was special, because, that’s about the best I ever had. Later on, I learned she was only doing it because of a bet with her friends, that I was a game. I don’t know, it still was nice. I think about that, even if it wasn’t real. It’d be nice to have that for real, once in my life. But I know that’s not really how it’s supposed to be.”
In one of those “what’s wrong with America” opines, that about sums up how I feel. Why waste time a blond who was given it all.
In the end, it just makes it all feel worse in compared to them, they were charmed, we were not. When we feel a sense of superiority when they falter, or conversely a sense of empathy when those who never did anything to contribute to life but pick the right numbers, it makes us worse as a people.
Save your tears for the Johnny Carson’s, the George Harrison’s, and the Mel Blanc’s. They did something for all of us, they connected us through art, not through news. Those are the only entertainers worth shedding tears for. They united us, not just in entertainment, but in because they did their part as artists to make the world feel smaller, and a bit more welcome, because growing up in America, it's hard not to be touched by one, if not all three of the aforementioned. When they pass, a part of who we were goes with them. That's the funeral of a great artist, that the result of a great life's end.
The rest are just dots on the grand maps of life, distractions from the real journey. I’m ashamed, as an American, that Anna Nicole Smith was even a dot, and doubly ashamed that we’re reporting on her death. It was her and her families loss, not ours.
posted by Indiana at
10:53 PM
2 Comments:
then why are you writing about her?
By
Anonymous, at February 13, 2007 11:52 AM
What part about that was writing about her. That whole post is about our current culture.
If I had written some post about the shame of her death, it would be about the shame of the point was that we cared.
It was a for shame on humanity like the Natalee Holloway case.
Whatever. I'm sure it doesn't matter .
By
Indiana, at February 15, 2007 1:03 AM
Post a Comment
<< Home