Posturing Over A Breast

It’s 7:52 A.M. and I just finished shoveling the overnight snowfall.  I walk inside, log on, and click over to Drudge and see that the infamous breast is still making tongues wag, eyeballs bulge and, bloviators bloviate.

The lovely Melis has the Today Show tuned in, and I can overhear Lauer et al reading scripts emphasising the mighty FCC’s ongoing investigation, as I sit in the kitchen, listening to an ES-355 sing to me.  They’re going to uncover the conspiracy behind this titillating display, for the children of course.

Think about this.  Consider the lineup of performers on that stage.  Jackson, Timberlake, Kid Rock, P Diddy, Jessica Simpson, faux musicians all.  These individuals are entertainers?  For whom?  Parents, FCCers, MTVers, politicians and other various dogooders, mouthing platitudes of concern for the children, what in the hell did you think you were going to see on that stage?  A wholesome rendition of Kum-By-Ya?  Check your premises people.  Each and every one of the performers on that stage, as a friend stated to me an email, are “delinquents and adolescent barbarians who need their asses spanked, but good..”  Nouveau spoiled rich kids is all they are, and all this acting shocked at their antics, on stage, is only an acknowledgement, by all the posturers, that they’ve been fooled all along by the performers so called personas as wholesome entertainment for the whole family.  Bah.

Update:  I almost forgot this.  Last night, while reading The Razor’s Edge, Melis and daughter were watching American Idol.  One auditioner was reprimanded by Simon for appearance.  Simon’s comment, and I paraphrase here to the best of my recollection, was “This is all about image.”  Nothing about talent or musical ability, image.  Think about that, too.

Update II: Roderick Long’s concluding statement on the fiasco.

Government: the thin blue line that separates us from Janet Jackson.

Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 02/03 at 06:52 AM

  1. Personally, I am far more offended by the sounds that emerge every time Dan Rather opens his cake hole than by the sight of an aging pop star’s boobie.

    Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)  on  02/03  at  08:48 PM

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