More Tawdry Viewing

I didn’t see the MTV awards show this year.  Then again, I’ve never seen an MTV award show.

True to form, those preceding two facts will not deter me from weighing in on this year’s highly-hyped edition.  For those readers who actually saw the awards show, feel free to roll your eyes at the inaccuracies which will soon follow.  For the rest of you, take my word for it and try to enjoy my synopsis.  By reading my account and not actually watching the show, you’ll have saved yourself an hour or two, including roughly 23 minutes of Axe Body Spray commercials.

This isn't the MTV trophy, it's from Darwincountry dot org.  No one can deny the "evolution of outrageous" of MTV's award behavior.  I can't wait to read about what happens next year!
This isn’t the MTV trophy, it’s from Darwincountry dot org. No one can deny the “evolution of outrageous” of MTV’s award behavior. I can’t wait to read about what happens next year!

As a bit of background, MTV Music Television – which hasn’t aired music videos since who knows when – has an annual movie and music awards show.  The show has had its share of “outrageous” moments, all of which served to catapult someone further into the spotlight for a few more minutes.  This is the same venue where Madonna sucked face with Britney and Lady Gaga covered her loins with flank steaks (or maybe she covered her flanks with loins).  Howard Stern once flew in dressed as his own super hero, “Fartman”, and blew up part of the stage with an egger.

The Gagster had originally thought about wearing this tie with khakis and a sport jacket, but didn't think it was "outrageous" enough.  (Image from z a z z l e dot com
Lady Gagster had originally thought about wearing this tie with khakis and a sport jacket, but didn’t think it was “outrageous” enough. (Image from z a z z l e dot com

This year’s big story, if the internet is to be believed, is that Miley Cyrus did a naughty dance on stage.  To be honest, I wouldn’t recognize Miley if she was twerking right in front of my house.  It’s a safe bet that I’d yell at her to stay the hell off my grass though.  I’ve written about Miley before and if nothing else interesting happens in the future, I likely will again.  She’s constantly featured in gossip rags and we all know that’s where I get some of my best material.

Even more fun than Miley’s dancing is the feigned shocked reactions by the media to what they had all expected in the first place.  I don’t doubt that some of the talk-news types already had “outrage over something that was said or done at the MTV awards” penciled into the following week’s programming before the show even happened.

I sat in a doctor’s office waiting room on Monday, listening to one TV talking head after another yabber on and on about Miley’s performance, with one commentator making the suggestion that they should no longer call her by name.  Apparently, “She Who Will Not Be Named” is this knucklehead’s idea of a punishment for someone whose parents named her “Miley”.  It seemed something of an over-reaction to Miley’s antics to put her in the same category as Beetlejuice and Leona Helmsley.

She Who Shall Not Be Named (Image from content dot time dot com)
She Who Shall Not Be Named.  “Why so serious?” – so sayeth the Joker.  (Image from content dot time dot com)

On Tuesday I sat in another doctor’s waiting room and listened to more of the same.  I’m either getting old or I’ve changed careers and become a pharmaceutical sales rep.

At one point, they stopped talking about Miley having unsafe relations with a foam finger and discussed poison gas attacks and the likelihood of the US getting themselves into yet another no-win military clusterfuck in yet another middle eastern country.  There was a commercial break and then it was back to more in-depth debate over the outrageous behavior of former child stars.  Justin Beiber could not be reached for comment as he was busy killing a potted palm.

As the world teeters on the brink of absolute bedlam, I suppose it’s a perverse luxury to spend our time worrying about a skinny white girl shaking her moneymaker on a TV award show.  I can hardly wait to see what diversions next week will bring.

The World Ends in 2012, or is it 2013?

Excuse me people, I’m really out of touch.  I think it was the Mayans who predicted the end of the world in the year 2012.  Maybe it was the Incas.  It could’ve been the Amish – I just don’t know and I don’t care to Google it right now.  I’m sitting in my kitchen while my house and town are lashed by the early stages of “Frankenstorm”, a.k.a. “Hurricane Sandy”, a.k.a. “Rainy-Days-and-Mondays-Always-Get-Me-Down”.  Maybe thumbing my nose at the end of days isn’t such a good idea under such conditions – but dammit all to hell, I’ve got to write! (plus, there’s not much on TV).

The Mayans may have predicted the end of the world, but they didn’t count on the ass-kicking, all-terrain ability of my Jeep Grand Cherokee. Yesirree, this baby is built for the end of days. (Image from

Pop culture gurus and doomsday types have latched onto this whole 2012-end-of-the-world thingy.  It’s interesting that they waited until like 2009 to do so.  I guess that’s because up until then, everyone had predicted 2000 – or “why-too-kay” – to be the finale.  One thing is for certain, if the world’s going to end, it’s going to be due to some catchy-named package.  Anyway, now that we’re closing in on 2013, they’ve all quieted down a tad. 

It’s funny, but my impression of those ancient civilizations didn’t include their understanding or acknowledging our current calendar, so I don’t quite get how they picked 2012.  I’m really hoping the true translation wasn’t “2012-ish…you know, give or take a couple of cycles from Ix Chel, the moon goddess.”

At any rate, it’s typical of modern society and Hollywood to embrace the end of the world part of the prophecy, but ignore the rest of the ancient culture.  They conveniently left out the sacrificing of virgins to Xyl-Chtep the Sun God and the regular interpretation of chicken innards to predict the coming drought and baby genders.

No, no, ancient cultures, it’s NOT okay to kill people to appease Xyl-Chtep, and it’s certainly not politically correct to single out the virgins.  The Sun God will have to go without an offering this week.  If you’ve got a problem with old Xyl-Chtep, I’d suggest a little something with an SPF over 30.

I picked up this Mayan plate at a yard sale. My friend Betty says it means the world is going to end this year, but I just like the bright colors.  It looks fabulous hanging in my foyer! (Image from

As for reading chicken guts, we prefer Kindles and Us Weekly for gossip about people called “Kardashians”.  Also, while we accept your thought that the world will end in 2012, we reject using corn husks to wipe our heinies after we drop a deuce out behind the pyramid.  This isn’t Survivor – we prefer our Charmin 2-ply and a nice porcelain throne.  A little privacy would be nice, and the latest National Enquirer if you have it, I need to catch up on what Britney’s doing these days.

So anyway, I wrote those paragraphs unaware that within a few hours I would be plunged into darkness for a week or so.  No sooner had the lights come back on then I flew out of the country for another week.  Now I’m finally back, with electricity and half an idea as to what time zone I’m in.  It’s been a short strange trip.

I’m only posting this to prove to my loyal readers – both of them – that I’m not dead or a Power Ball winner – though I’m bound to be at least one of those two things eventually, and you don’t need an ancient culture to predict that!