Twilight Zone Weekly

I was reading my Entertainment Weekly and it was jarring. It was so carefree and happy and celebratory – the new TV season is starting and they are all excited about all the crappy shows premiering and they write such positive, uplifting things about them and their chances, all the while, you know they are all ready wrote the cancellation blurbs about Hells Kitchen, Doogie Howser Esq and The Ghost Whisperer - because they are total cancellation bait. Cancelled and not Brilliant.

With the new season starting comes the second season of Desperate B-Listresses so EW can finally stop exhausting themselves coming up with increasingly moronic excuses to cover of Eva Noreasontoknowhernameia every week.

Hey, look! She’s reminding us of what a great rack she has and that her tits are 15 years younger then the other Housewives’ tits and she is really cool about not being nominated for an Emmy™ by bravely joking about how she didn’t want one anyway! And look at her rack!

Here’s one of her picking her nose at a stop light! She is so real!!

Now, this one is really special! Look! She’s wearing a bathing suit! In Public! At an Awards Show! In Miami! During a Hurricane! What a sense of humor! She is so edgy! And what a trooper!

Here she is at the opening of an envelope! What a professional!

Whatever. Why hasn’t Terri Hatcher used one of her skeletal shoulder blades to puncture Longernamererias giant head?

But other then Eva Gonorrhea’s unfortunate bathing suit, there was no real mention of the hurricane or New Orleans or the rest of the Gulf Coast or the death toll or the shocking realty of American Refugees/Evacuees/Survivors or what celebrities think about the hurricane or the destruction of New Orleans and the Gulf Coast and the shocking reality of American Refugees/Evacuees/Survivors. It went on the whole issue with out once mentioning we should give to the Red Cross (try watching or reading anything now with out a mention of The Red Cross) It was so unreal. I mean, nothing had happened yet. I felt like I did reading my little entertainment rags that arrived 9/10. They seemed to be about a world that was so different than the real one, I kind of liked the “fake” world. Everyone was so happy. But then, like now, I hated them too, for being happy and ignorant. It pisses me off that they aren’t shocked and horrified like the rest of us. How dare they be smiling when all I want to do is cry.

I never thought about how the the publications we use to catalogue our world are so often out of date. Something traumatic happens and they don’t cover it for a week. They are perpetually out of sync. It isn’t just my lamo entertainment mags that are lagging and out of sync. My New Yorker seems to be about food this time around, not a mention of devastation or presidential malfeasance, or national mourning and shame. It’s hard to read these and feel like they are not at all relevant. I looked at it and wanted to say “What are you talking about! How can you be going on about restaurants at a time like this?” Last week everything was so normal. Reading those issues today is like reading an old, old magazine you might find for sale at 1000 times its cover price at an antique shop, everything they covered seems so cute and naïve and fluffy. It’s the same Twilight Zone version of the world where Shrub can blather nostalgically about WW2 and VJ day like nothing else was going on.

It’s a little shocking to not read about the admins blunders in The New Yorker a whole news-ish magazine with out any reference to the admins shocking mishandling of the catastrophe. They did mention the never ending vacation but they were still joshing the admin because it wasn’t over yet.

And because I didn’t mention it in yesterdays post, George W. Bush is evil.