What is wrong with the world?
I'll tell you!
Little do you know the
sinister reality lying underneath the seemingly harmless phenomenon which
underlies the tragically evil truth.
Back in high school, they used to tell us that popularity wasn't
everything. They being stupid people and us being equally stupid people
who listened to other stupid people. Of course, I am not one of us,
because I was never stupid enough to listen to them and did not really
care about any of this in the first place, but I digress. At any rate,
the powers that be said that popularity is a frivolous, useless thing and
there was no sense in prostituting oneself and risking serious physical
and psychological trauma to become part of the "in crowd" just for the few
fleeting thrills that popularity could buy. They would point to the
fat, ugly, burnt out, drunk, stupid, pathetic, moronic, hopeless,
waste-of-skin piles of excrement that popular people ended up being and
say, "Hey, is that what you want? You want to be a fat, ugly, burnt out,
drunk, stupid, pathetic, moronic, hopeless, waste-of-skin pile of excrement
that sits around all day and thinks about the glory days when you were all
that stuff we called you before but also popular? When people didn't
complain about your stench and projectile vomiting because you were 'cool'?
When you were especially cool because of your stench and projectile vomiting
and incontinence? Because people in high school were too stupid to
realize that you were screwed up royal?" And you would say, "Yeah,
I want to be that popular pile of excrement!" And they would say,
"That's too bad, you aren't very attractive." Regardless, the point is
that everyone said that popularity isn't everything. But what they
didn't tell you was that popularity is everything. There, I said it.
Popularity is everything. I mean, sure it has no real, deep, inner
meaning. But who cares about inner meaning? Nobody. Inner Meaning,
Schminner Schmeaning. I can't remember the last time someone asked about
inner meaning. Except for what I just did, which I do still remember.
But the point of all this is, of course, what celebrity is and how to
get it. Or barring that, how to become a celebrity killing recluse
who hunts and kills the most deadly prey of all which is celebrities?
For anyone who has ever wondered what the differences are between
celebrities and the "riff raff" as we like to be called, rest assured that
there are far too many to list and they are far too complicated for
you to even comprehend. Fortunately, all that is completely and utterly
irrelevant. What is relevant is that everything that happens to celebrities
is news. If Oprah developed chronic, thunderous, explosive diarrhea,
people would eat it up. It would be front-page news the world round.
Headlines would read, "Oprah fights debilitating illness", "Hero Oprah
donates $12.95 to End Incontinence Now", "Talk Show Queen Soils Self as
Millions Cheer". Stock in Oprah-endorsed adult diapers would
blast off like a proverbial flatulence-propelled daytime television host
and The Hershey Squirts Diet by Oprah would fill her colossal coffers
just as she personally filled her disease diminished dockers. Then the
lawsuits would begin, thereby ensuring that only Oprah and a handful of
lawyers actually benefit. This is known as "The American Way". The
mystery is how this cycle propagates itself. Until this very day, or
more accurately until a week ago Thursday, it had been one of those
questions that had no answer. Now it has one.
The cycle of Celebrity begins with popularity. Popularity is a hideous, all-consuming
beast with honeyed breath and a superfluous nipple. It devours all those
who seek it, then it gets a tummy-ache and has to take a nap, then it
promises goodies to a whole new generation and starts chowing down again.
As any celebrity will tell you, they were never popular growing up. They
had acne and bad hair, and crippling emotional disorders. Lies, I tell you,
all lies, except for the crippling emotional disorders. There are two types
of popular people in high school, contrary to unpopular(ha ha) belief.
The first type are the regular variety, who will be unable to cope with
their mediocrity in real life and end up working at the Gas and Fuel
Station, forced to subsist on cheese rinds and the dim memory of what was
once a promising life. The second type are a special select breed: Future
Celebrities. These people never get over their own hype. The masses are
fooled by their confidence and come to believe the hype itself. Forget
what you heard about complex nuclear reactions and superheated gases:
ignorance is what really makes a star. Although I'm sure superheated gases
do play their part. You may wonder who is so stupid and ignorant that they
throw their hard-earned money away watching rejects from the game of life
and thus support the lavish, pompous, dizzying, tribute to crapulence that
is the celebrity lifestyle. Now, here's the part where where having read
this paragraph all the way from the beginning starts to pay off. It is the
former group of high school "populars" who throw away their welfare monies
and hard-earned self-injury lawsuit settlement checks to allow these
celebrities to own their own novelty restaurants and gold-plated chihuahuas.
After all, they are all cut from the same cloth. And it is a gaudy, neon,
leopard print lycra spandex. The celebrity enjoys many years (two) of
trendy, high profile debauchery until plastic surgery can no longer hide the
fact that they are well over twenty-seven years old(or as old as thirty for
men). Some of these then has-been stars goes on to become living legends
by buying studios and forcing their old, wrinkled carcasses into movies
until everyone just gives up protesting and accepts it. The rest move in
with their trailer park dwelling cousins(I mean literal cousins) and live
"la vida loca" which means "a really bad song". This is actually
much more intelligent than the has-been celebrities of ancient times(1990s),
who just died off when people stopped throwing them food in the park. Not
to abuse the use of quotes, but this phenomena is known as "The Circle of
Almost Having a Life" by such famed wildlife experts as Marlin Perkins,
Jacques Cousteau, and Marlon Brando. Or it would be, if they weren't all
dead. Which is to say, living in a double wide with their cousins.
As I promised, I will now explain how all this relates to what we refer
to as "Oprah". Come to think of it, there really is no explaining Oprah.
As the living avatar of The Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse, Sycophance,
Oprah stands alone as the most powerful force in the universe. Yes, even
stronger than covalent bonds. The mighty Black Hole pales when compared
with Oprah's power to suck... up. Coupled with the second most powerful
force known to man, which is the gravitic pull of a celebrity's ego, a
dangerous reaction occurs. All that the top scientists researching
this bizarre quirk of nature know is that when Oprah and any celebrity are
put in a room together, it generates a Brown-Nosian event that registers
12.0 on the Bootlichter scale. That equals the explosive power of seventeen
trillion hydrogen bombs and more than fourteen billion sticks of dynamite,
coupled with many other millions of things that are used to measure
explosive force. It is believed that the Ancient Mayans knew of a way to
harness this effect as electric energy and used it to light their late
night human sacrifices. Scientists extrapolate that if Oprah had been used
in this manner, most of the known universe would have been destroyed.