Old School Thigh Master

Bizarro is brought to you today by Saw VIII: Bleeding From The Ears.

I have to admit I'm really pleased with this joke. It's a simple idea based on an iconic game of childhood innocence and curiosity, but with the addition of a single word becomes dark and disturbing. What more can one ask of a cartoon?

Speaking of dark and disturbing, I turned on TV last night to watch Hardball and Countdown and it happened to be tuned to some show called "Extra" on NBC. Within seconds I could see that it was a faux news show about celebrities, that generation of mutant journalism that I think "Entertainment Tonight" started.

The three, beautiful, twenty-something meat puppets hosting "Extra" were in the middle of a stiffly scripted "disagreement" over something Suzanne Somers uttered about Patrick Swayze's cancer treatment. One marionette thought Suzanne had a right to speak her mind, another thought it was too soon and she should have known better, the third thought she was wrong for saying anything but did the right thing by apologizing. Fascinating.

I know a lot of people watch these shows, you may be among them, and I do not wish to offend anyone kind enough to read this blog. But I can't stand them. I guess my revulsion begins in the premise that a celebrity's routines activities are elevated to the status of "news," and moves on through the mannequin performance of the cue-card-reading models who, by telling you about celebrities, become celebrities themselves. This concept is akin to a librarian becoming as famous as the authors of the books in her care.

Human fascination with celebrity is an interesting subject, the roots of which are deep within our evolution. Chimps have the same impulse within their own groups. In one behavioral study I read about, when given a choice between looking at a picture of a troupe leader or a food reward, they often chose the celebrity photo. How many American's would rather watch "Extra" or "ET" than eat a plate of nachos? Fortunately, as God's anointed species, we are not forced to choose and can simultaneously stuff our faces with Monterey Jack and Jacko. Still, I'd like to put some people in a cage and test this theory.

I'm not completely immune to the charm of celebrities myself, it is programmed into our DNA to a point, but I'm not interested in them enough to read magazines devoted to them or watch news shows about their hourly goings on.

And, for the record, I think Suzanne Somers should have said MORE about Patrick Swayze's treatment! Whatever the hell that means.

Until tomorrow...become a master of your own thighs.