“For the most part people are not curious except about themselves.” -John Steinbeck
Look at me, love me, look at me. I’m an “artist”. Kurt Cobain said, “I don’t care what you think unless it’s about me”. We live in a world where half the public doesn’t have a clue who is running for president. That same audience though will tell you whether OK magazine or In Touch magazine is a better value for the buck. They will tell you the exact TV schedule of all the “Housewives” shows, from Beverly Hills to Atlanta and from DC. to NY. Their dvr’s are at maximum capacity loaded with the Kardashsians, Bridezilla and The Biggest Loser. Even soap operas can’t compete with the repetitious drone of “real life” stuff. The dumbing down of America is in full swing and gaining steam by the hour.
Last night Meryl Streep won best actress for portraying one of the greatest women in the last one hundred years. She effortlessly maintained her “utterly shocked” act upon accepting gazillionth industry award. She thanked everyone but the woman she portrayed in the movie, Margaret Thatcher. No class. Not even a little.
Madonna looked like Iggy Pop and her particular acceptance speech was embarrassing in its narcissism. Scorcese looked like Mo Green and Rob Lowe, using gallons of “man tan” looked like a sleazy car salesman. The look works for him. I think his tan broke the teleprompter. Everyone looked like a slice of cheese. Jessica Lange managed a crazier look than her role on American Horror Story and all the mindless “artists” fell to bended knee when Sidney Poitier, unbearably anti American, took the stage. All the women over forty successfully pulled off the Jocelyn Wildenstein look with flying colors.
This was their night. It’s their world and I guess I just live in it. I’ll take my world.