I'm going to keep this short today, peeps. You know that's not my usual style, but I'm not feeling my usual self. (My stomach usually doesn't feel like it's full of rusty nails agitating like a washing machine.)
Truth be told, I was going to forgo posting altogether, but a certain headline caught my eye and I had some thoughts -- as I'm prone to do -- and figured I'd share.
Upon logging out of Hotmail, MSN.com presented me with the following gem -- "Report: 'Jersey Shore' cast goes on strike."
(Why couldn't those sadists at MSN know that I am already sick to my stomach?)
Apparently, the "stars" -- and I use that term in the loosest possible context (think Pauly Shore) -- believe they are underpaid.
(Now, I don't know the going rate for: working out, tanning and laundering dirty clothes, but if it's more than $10k/episode, then I am clearly in the wrong profession.)
The problem with fame is that it gives people an inflated sense of self-importance. Sure, entertainment serves a somewhat important role. Life is stressful and hard, and the temporary escape it provides can help keep us sane.
But let's keep things in perspective, people!
Does anyone really think the Jersey Shore crew serves a more vital purpose to society than doctors, teachers or firefighters? (Well, I mean "anyone besides the cast of Jersey Shore themselves.")
Given the choice, would anyone really pick "being able to watch Jersey Shore" over "having my garbage removed?" (As long as people are using their heads, they are choosing garbage men as being more important than Jersey Shore cast members.)
Perhaps I shouldn't get hung up on something as trivial as "talent," but what possible talent do these people have to offer, exceptional tan-ness aside? (None.) Why should I care about them? (I don't.) And why can't that one guy keep his shirt down? (Note: I'm in excellent physical condition, but I don't feel the need to constantly pull up my shirt in public.)
According to Wikipedia -- the most reliable source of information ever created -- there were 9 episodes of Season 1. At $10,000 a pop, that's... well, you can do the math. Is the service they provide really that valuable?
No, no it's not.
Editor's note: He'll do better next time, folks. The stomach issues have not been a lot of fun.