Thursday, March 08, 2007

stop the planet, I want to get off

apparently I am an alien who was kidnapped by earthlings and raised among them. however, now I'm hoping the mothership returns to pick me up soon because I'm no longer finding my anthropological studies of earthling behavior very interesting. it seems that earthlings, and a closely related subspecies, republicans, have values, experiences, and identities quite different than my own. I'm grateful to the mothership and the brave alien scientists who placed me here for making sure that the food, water, and atmosphere here on earth was compatible with our own back home on the planet, well, whatever it's called, but they failed to check for other toxic incompatibilities.

one of the blogs I read regularly which is quite interesting, is Joe. My. God. There's been a feature lately about this guy Dirty Sanchez--um, er, Matt Sanchez--a fairly unattractive and very shallow ex gay pornstar now hanging out with the likes of Ann Coulter and Newt Gingrich. this pornstar is a typical mirror-gazing narcissist who is now denouncing Columbia University's student body for being leftist. he's a marine, apparently thinking now that he's spent years shooting jizz for the entertainment of gay men he'd like to go kill some Arabs. with my fellow gay men (and the bears who who are well represented by JMG) I'm horrified by this fellow. but more than that I'm horrified by what he represents. The ridiculous "facercise" exercises, the unappealing pornography, the unappealing over-gymmed body, the shocking right-wing politics, I can only draw the conclusion that I belong to an alien culture and have been accidently left here among this nation of narcissists.

I watched an episode of American Idol. Untalented narcissists caterwauling and whining. Each time I saw someone's so-caled singing praised I wondered how my own idea of actual musical talent could be so different than what America--hmmm perhaps I shoud bring back Amerikkka--seems to enjoy. Surely on my own planet singing is pleasant and tuneful: this alleged talent is apparently overly influenced by some earth-based viral contaminant.

Then there's Bravo TV. Often entertaining. Well, like watching a train wreck or a bad accident on the freeway. The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Workout. Top Design. Who ARE these people? How did they get their heads trapped so far up their own sphincters? Do these people live their whole lives thinking absolutely....nothing? Perhaps global warming has overheated their brains and caused irreversible damage?

I could go on and on. I'm not sure if the alien overlords read blogs, but if you do, dear overlords, please send the Mothership soon, and hurry! Beam me up!

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