The Passing Parade: Cheap Shots from a Drive By Mind

"...difficile est saturam non scribere. Nam quis iniquae tam patiens urbis, tam ferreus, ut teneat se..." "...it is hard not to write Satire. For who is so tolerant of the unjust City, so steeled, that he can restrain himself... Juvenal, The Satires (1.30-32) akakyakakyevich@gmail.com

Friday, December 01, 2006

I HEARD IT THROUGH THE GRAPEVINE: So there I was, stuck in morning traffic behind an armored bus transporting a fresh crop of miscreants to one of our happy little burg’s many vacation facilities for the feloniously inclined, when I heard something strange on the radio. No, it wasn't gangsta rap or heavy metal or even that crazy preacher from the slough of urban despond immediately across the river from us, for whom the existence of gays, Jews, Catholics, and tuna casserole is incontrovertible evidence that the last days are upon us; no indeed, it was the news. I listen to the news on my way into work, for reasons I am not sure I fathom; you’d think that the last thing anyone would want to listen to in the morning is a recounting of everything that went wrong in the world since they went to bed the night before, but there are stranger things in the world, I suppose. I make no claims to perfect knowledge here, and like Job and his sufferings, I simply assume there must be a reason for the phenomenon and then move on.

Even with this stress-relieving view of the world and its manifold stupidities, I am still not sure how to react to the news that Britney Spears was photographed this week in the act of not wearing underwear, a type of photography known to the paparazzi who traffic in such imagery as a crotch shot. At the time the paparazzi caught Ms. Spears sans lingerie, she was in the company of Paris Hilton, whom we have discussed here before, and Lindsey Lohan, both of whom have contributed greatly to this particular genre of photojournalism in the past and will, no doubt, continue to do so in the future. I do not know why this particular photographic genre exists; barring the effects of hermaphroditism, a rose is a rose is a rose, as it were, but the genre does exist so someone must find this sort of photograph interesting. I just find it odd that a woman who has just had two children in as many years would want to expose her reproductive anatomy to anyone; you’d think that after all that labor she’d just want the thing to rest for a while. But then, as I said, I make no claims to omniscience here, although the ongoing interest in Ms. Spears' genitalia might be the proof the crazy preacher is looking for and the Day of Judgement really is nigh. That's something to think about.
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