Current mood: disgruntled
I join Myspace and I find the most obnoxious banner ad ever. It has the bouncing Brad Pitt head. No. I do not want to kiss Brad Pitt. No, not even for a powder pink RAZR phone. In fact, I may never purchase anything from RAZR. So there! Hear that RAZR? Hear THAT myspace.com advertising guy?
Soon, I will have to drive to Safeway and stand in that express lane that isn't. I will be inundated with highly inappropriate personal information about celebrities. Who cares about Brad and Angelina? Who cares about Brittney Spears' "baby bump" or Lohan's eating disorder? How does it matter to my life that Brad and Angelina have "wild plans" to adopt more children?
There is another way. I can drive farther to Whole Foods Market, where there are magazines about yoga and the vegan lifestyle. I am in line and feel more relaxed and healthier by osmosis.
Why can't we have magazines about politics, art, literature, and other interesting topics? I try to bring this up with the guy at the cash register. He thinks I am a crazy woman.
It all makes me think that there is some unseen hand or force trying to reduce our brains to mush by trivial tabloidism.
