Britney Spears Tries To Hang Herself!
This news cycle is too short. In a world where Western Civ is in a dither about whether or not the global economy is worth preserving, we have no shortage of time on the airwaves to broadcast impropaganda on the state of our pop culture. But wait. There may be just the right sentiment out there. It's a good thing that we want to see Britney dead. It's a good thing that we want to see Anna Nichole Smith unrested in peace. Ann Coulter's imminent demise makes for the trifecta. All we can do is cross our fingers and hope to God that Madonna gets shot in the face. Nothing addresses the American fascination with empty celebrity like our even greater desires to see these wastrels get theirs in the end. The only problem is that it takes too long.
What we need is a new kind of pop star. Somebody who can rocket to insane levels of wealth and fame in very short order, and who having done the perfect glitz tour of all our equally insane fantasies, plunge to the depths of despair, crash and burn, burn, burn. The only real question is exactly how long this process should take from peak to valley.
There's ample precedent and a soft place in the American heart for one-hit wonders. The phenomenon just needs a little amping up. Now it takes about six months on the pop charts and the news shows for any celebrity to seep into most of the nation's heads. Short of blowing up a building or a high speed police chase, there's probably not a quicker way. American Idol, The Apprentice and Survivor are some fairly snappy ways to feed the celebrity machine. They generate just the right kind of publicity. The problem is that that doesn't help us address the political end. We need a good amateur or reality show about local politicians. You know, the housewife who makes the leap from PTA to Board of Ed, the retired Vietnam vet whose succesful fight against a zoning ordinance gets him to city council, the articulate black woman who breaks the old boy network in the City Assessor's office, the outspoken blogger who makes it onto a radio talk show. Such are lightweight American heroes too. We need them to get in way over their heads just like every other kind of celebrity. Why? Because we wanna understand it too. We, the great American middle class whose unmitigated desire for whiter teeth and slimmer hips bankrolls a multibillion dollar industry and dozens of hours of television weekly. We can do this!
Then we need a set of taboos and brightlines for our newfound heroes to trip up on. Forget N, F and C, we need at least a whole alphabet of X-words that we can train our satellites and paparazzi on for 24/7 surveillance. The moment they trip, text messages are broadcast, regularly scheduled programs are interrupted and alerts break into every broadcast and podcast. Except for infomercials. Nothing, I repeat nothing under any circumstances are ever allowed to interrupt infomercials. They are the electric grid underlying great engines like CNBC. If they are ever stopped, then the terrorists win.
The world stands still. People will remember the moment. "I was getting a coffee at Dunkin Donuts but they didn't have any hazelnut. I always get hazelnut. I had a bad feeling about this." You can see the hazy black and white photo zoomed grainy on the History Channel docudrama. You hear the 911 call. You speed your Tivo through the commercial break for the money shot.. and there it is, over and over, like planes through Manhattan, like Jesse Jackson pointing to the shooter, like Jackie O spinning in her seat, the most valuable piece of intellectual property a nation can own. A Historic Moment.
Cut to weeping families. Our favorite anchor's dramatic pause. "America's Sweetheart Is Dead".
God this is great. Man every two years. We run them back to back like Winter and Summer Olympics. Somebody from the political world in midterm years and somebody from entertainment in election years.
Hey Sumner Redstone. Call me, I'll build you a whole media network on this idea alone.
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