Going rogue
God knows I’ve done it, too (and right here on this blog, nonetheless!), but it is So. Goddamn. Annoying. when people say things like, “I like to zig when everyone else zags,” or ” “I’ve always been a really free thinker,” or “I’ve never been one to take the easy way out.” Yes, you have been. You have a normal job and live in a regular house and have a bunch of kids and drive a Ford Escort and nothing about you screams “dangerous” or “independent thinker.”
Unless you live in a handmade shack in the Alaskan wilderness or raise your own minks to create your own luxurious clothing or eat only red foods, you do not “zig when everyone else zags.” You zig right along with the rest of us. You are not a rogue. You are not wildly creative. You are not better than anyone else. You simply make different, yet equally mundane, choices. Shut up about it, already, and stop pretending you’re some sort of savant leader.
That, ladies and gents, is my Rant of the Day.
“I Am the Anonymous Hero Who Donated All Those Old Legwarmers to Goodwill”
Look, you all know I’m a big fan of donating to charity. I’m not going to criticize anyone for giving any amount to any cause. Except just this once.
A headline on today’s People.com shouts “Brad and Angelina Are $7 Million Givers!” The story (I use that term loosely) falls all over itself explaining how gracious these two celebrities are:
That was the amount given to various groups through the philanthropically minded couple’s Jolie-Pitt Foundation, which donated about half of the $13 million it raised last year to nonprofits like Global Health, Human Rights Watch, the Armed Services YMCA, and Pitt’s own Make It Right Foundation, dedicated to rebuilding New Orleans. Another $1 million went to various causes in Cambodia, home country for their son Maddox.
I’m not going to go into the fact that $7 million isn’t really that much, considering Jolie alone was the highest-paid actress of 2008, commanding $15 million per film.
What bothers me is the fine print of this whole deal. You can’t really say Brad and Angelina gave $7 million – their foundation did. And if you’ll notice, the article states the foundation “raised” $13 million in 2008 – so, that money didn’t exclusively come from The Golden Ones, nor did the foundation give even 50% of its earnings away to charity! What happened to that other $8 million?
I’m not trying to bring these people down. I just don’t think we should all gush about how generous they are before stopping to consider the details. It’s like how Madonna always talks about her Raising Malawi foundation… but did you know the foundation’s main goal is to preach Kabbalah to African children (all mail and donations go directly to the Kabbalah Centre)? The shelter, food and basic education it provides are merely second fiddle.
I realize how ego-boosting it is to be recognized for good deeds. But there comes a point where you need to either put up or shut up. Or, in the case of millionaires who will do anything to stay in the spotlight–including, gasp, giving to charity–put up and shut up.
A little bit of magic drenched in TOYS TOYS TOYS!
My family did not include “Watching parades” on our list of Thanksgiving traditions; no, that’s a habit I intentionally picked up on my own. As young as 11, I insisted on turning on the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade early in the morning. But, even then, I realized how boring parades are. Watching C-list celebrities lip synch to show tunes I don’t know and balloon representations of old Disney characters float lamely above the streets really didn’t do much for me. I’d always end up wandering away from the TV, and then pitching a fit when someone would inevitably turn the channel in my absence. “But, it’s the parade!” I’d scream, not yet aware that traditions can’t be forced.
So, naturally, I turned on the parade yesterday and made Adam watch it while we devoured our fajita lunch. And, naturally, I quickly realized why no one actually watches these things: not only are they boring, they’re patronizing and dripping with shameless commercialism.
The balloons were all of cartoon characters, of course, but not because kids love cartoons–because their parents love buying shit for them. The balloons were not mystical images of wonder, they were little more than conversation starters for their new movies, toys, books, CDs, downloads, what-have-you. When the Smurf balloon came lumbering down the street, Meredith Viera read some ridiculous script about a Smurf movie coming out in 2011. TWO-THOUSAND-ELEVEN. First off, who even likes the Smurfs anymore, besides thirty-something hipsters desperate to drench their families in ironic nostalgia? But secondly, why are you pimping a movie that doesn’t even come out for two years?!
There was even a Poppin’ Fresh balloon – he’s an advertising character! He doesn’t even have a show to promote! What?!
Ho, Ho, Ho.
The most insulting part was saved for last. I didn’t see it myself — I was attending to a puggy potty break outside — but Adam relayed his disgust the second I walked in the door. Apparently, when Santa closed out the parade, as he waved and smiled at the kids, as little elven dancers pranced around his sled, the announcers reminded us that we can experience the magic of Santa every day… at Universal Studios Resort.
Ah, consumerism. ‘Tis the season, ay? Looks like, at least in this case, my parents were right for eschewing tradition.
Don’t forget the ciggies!
Cranberry sauce? Check. Sage stuffing? Check. Camels? DOUBLE CHECK! (Click for larger image)
Happy Thanksgiving, y’all!
I’ll be at home, with just Adam and the pets, enjoying fajitas, cheesy chicken dip, Papa Murphy’s Pizza and as much wine as I can swallow. For that, I am thankful!
