the rant By Tim Sampson
But what did I see? A report about whose Apprentice is doing better: the Donald's or Martha's. It was very in-depth and it was almost as bad as the news about Nick and Jessica's possible breakup, which I also heard about. The problem is that I don't know who Nick and Jessica are or what they have contributed to society to warrant the media attention. I swear, I really don't know who they are. I was all up on that breakup of what's-his-name who was in the Trojan War movie and his wife who was on Friends, although I really can't remember their names. Part of it is senility. This is coming from a person who sat across the booth from someone at a bar several years ago trying to remember who he was, only to finally realize he was my stepbrother at the time. I say I'm awful only because I let this crap actually enter my psyche. Take CNN's Nancy Grace. I actually found myself offering an opinion about her to someone today. Granted, the opinion was that she is uncannily scary and more than likely was originally a man, but the mere fact that I had an opinion about her of any kind totally freaked me out. The only solace I could find was that I was quoted in a Japanese newspaper article the other day and hoped against hope that a paper in North Korea might pick it up and run it. Thankfully, it was not political in nature, so big men in sunglasses and black suits won't likely come knocking at my door. Wait a minute. What am I saying? I'd pay to have big men dressed in black and wearing sunglasses come knocking at my door. So I flip away from Nancy Grace, by this time thinking I need to live in Tibet to wean myself from watching television, and I run across a story on teens having oral sex. Seems they take this very casually these days and do it in lieu of intercourse because they've been told over and over and over that intercourse is wrong, wrong, wrong. Sure, it's a problem. But that report was followed by one with the media falling all over themselves about having the first interview with Tom Cruise's "girlfriend" since she and Tom announced that she's pregnant. Yep, knocked-up while dating. Isn't this sort of a double standard? (Not to mention a total freak show?) I also read somewhere that the girlfriend, whoever she is, might have to go through the Church of Scientology's optional "silent birth" process, in which words are kept to an absolute minimum because babies retain verbal content during birth that can lead to irrational fears later in life. Whoa. Let's just hope the little fetus wasn't able to hear them when it was being conceived. I can just hear Tom now, screaming, "Ewwwwe. Gross. Why do I keep having to do this?! Why couldn't we just adopt like I did with Nicole?!" No telling what kind of fears that would instill in a newborn. Let's just hope the girlfriend doesn't have postpartum depression or she's up you-know-what creek without a paddle (or any drugs or counseling, because Tom knows everything there is to know about that kind of thing and, in fact, has studied the entire science of psychiatry). But it's all okay. I flipped to another channel where the description of the show was, "A friend is killed during a series of high-profile robberies by men in clown masks." I knew then that there was still hope.