Mysteriousness in Celebritation Land
I'm just about the last person in the world who would ever read Heat. If there were an explosion on the Earth and everyone in the world died tomorrow except me, Heat's readership figures would be less than zero, because I would buy a copy of Heat, photocopy it, and then return both to the newsagents and demand my money back. And then God saw it and saw that it was good.
So why am I starting a blog called "Red Carpet Rumblings" if I hate celebrity culture and everything to do with it? Because the internet makes it OK for me to do so. But, mostly, because I'm a film journalist in good standing and so I spend my days around them and can't help hearing about their boob jobs and face lifts and new albums. Because they tell me about these things as they assume that I am interested.
I'm not interested. If there was a scale of interest, 1 being Not Very Interested and 10 being Very Interested Indeed, I would be at minus 12. Because I'm rebelliously not interested like that.
But they tell me anyway, because that's what famous people like to talk about. When they're not talking about the problems with the government and child poverty that is. And then you get the ones who think the problem with the government is that child poverty exists and they're even more boring, if you can imagine such levels of boredom.
Bono, I'm looking at you. We used to have Mother Theresa. Now we have Bono. Hey Bono, I liked your last album. I maybe listened to Elevation a time too many so that I'm fairly certain that were I ever to see you live I'd be able to sing along to the chorus without a lyric sheet in front of me. But were I to see you live I would no doubt have to endure your lectures about world poverty while waiting for you to sing Elevation. Because apparently paying £100 to see you sing about lifts isn't good enough for you - you jumped up Irish wanker - I have to listen to your thoughts on poverty.
Funny, Bono, 'cos last time I checked the rich lists they told me that you had more money in your bank account than the sum total of the 79,999 other "fans" - and they only call themselves that with the same level of irony as one who would listen to their slightly batty grandmother talk about how the Nazi's stole her cheese - standing around me. But God forbid you could share a bit of your personal fortune - no doubt handsomely supplemented by those iPod ads, because "People have a wroight to cloin warter. And oiPahds." - to fix this poverty crisis you imagine exists because someone told you about it one time. Oh no, let's have a concert to raise "awareness, not money."
Gee, thank God I went to that Live8 thing, because if I hadn't gone to see hundreds of bands play their greatest hits while off my tits on ecstacy and alcohol I would never have known about poverty. I think I'll listen to Elevation on my iPod while I get a taxi home. And then play some Sega. My eyes have truly been opened. I bet all those poverty-stricken souls are thrilled that they have plenty of awareness in their lives now. That's so much more useful than money. You tit.
So, to summarise, I hate Bono because he's richer than me. The poverty lecturing thing is just an excuse. Oh, and this blog is about how much I love and/or hate other people who are richer for me and about how much I really, really, really, really hate Heat magazine for making more money than I do despite being so shit that if I were to use it for toilet paper I would actually be wiping up my shit with someone else's shit. And does that make sense to you? No it doesn't. But I live in the first world (as Bono keeps telling me) and that gives me a right to have a blog in which I bitch about people with more money than me, because that's what the internet was made for and if you don't like it, you can fuck off.
So why am I starting a blog called "Red Carpet Rumblings" if I hate celebrity culture and everything to do with it? Because the internet makes it OK for me to do so. But, mostly, because I'm a film journalist in good standing and so I spend my days around them and can't help hearing about their boob jobs and face lifts and new albums. Because they tell me about these things as they assume that I am interested.
I'm not interested. If there was a scale of interest, 1 being Not Very Interested and 10 being Very Interested Indeed, I would be at minus 12. Because I'm rebelliously not interested like that.
But they tell me anyway, because that's what famous people like to talk about. When they're not talking about the problems with the government and child poverty that is. And then you get the ones who think the problem with the government is that child poverty exists and they're even more boring, if you can imagine such levels of boredom.
Bono, I'm looking at you. We used to have Mother Theresa. Now we have Bono. Hey Bono, I liked your last album. I maybe listened to Elevation a time too many so that I'm fairly certain that were I ever to see you live I'd be able to sing along to the chorus without a lyric sheet in front of me. But were I to see you live I would no doubt have to endure your lectures about world poverty while waiting for you to sing Elevation. Because apparently paying £100 to see you sing about lifts isn't good enough for you - you jumped up Irish wanker - I have to listen to your thoughts on poverty.Funny, Bono, 'cos last time I checked the rich lists they told me that you had more money in your bank account than the sum total of the 79,999 other "fans" - and they only call themselves that with the same level of irony as one who would listen to their slightly batty grandmother talk about how the Nazi's stole her cheese - standing around me. But God forbid you could share a bit of your personal fortune - no doubt handsomely supplemented by those iPod ads, because "People have a wroight to cloin warter. And oiPahds." - to fix this poverty crisis you imagine exists because someone told you about it one time. Oh no, let's have a concert to raise "awareness, not money."
Gee, thank God I went to that Live8 thing, because if I hadn't gone to see hundreds of bands play their greatest hits while off my tits on ecstacy and alcohol I would never have known about poverty. I think I'll listen to Elevation on my iPod while I get a taxi home. And then play some Sega. My eyes have truly been opened. I bet all those poverty-stricken souls are thrilled that they have plenty of awareness in their lives now. That's so much more useful than money. You tit.
So, to summarise, I hate Bono because he's richer than me. The poverty lecturing thing is just an excuse. Oh, and this blog is about how much I love and/or hate other people who are richer for me and about how much I really, really, really, really hate Heat magazine for making more money than I do despite being so shit that if I were to use it for toilet paper I would actually be wiping up my shit with someone else's shit. And does that make sense to you? No it doesn't. But I live in the first world (as Bono keeps telling me) and that gives me a right to have a blog in which I bitch about people with more money than me, because that's what the internet was made for and if you don't like it, you can fuck off.
Welcome to the internet Rumbler. You've been a Datarock single too long in coming.
Posted by
Kat |
7:06 AM