Entertainment news has gone off the deep end. They’ve finally run out of things to talk about after drilling the Janet and Justin ordeal into the ground.
Kat Giantis, an MSN entertainment writer, recently uncovered a “river of ink.” Could it really be that Demi Moore’s boy toy, Ashton Kutcher, is not 26 years old, but is actually the big 3-0? If true, this could suggest that not only have some celebrities been fibbing about their ages, but that Kutcher’s clowning around on his show, MTV’s “Punk’d”, is no longer as appropriate.
Apparently, the idea that Moore may be only 11 years his senior instead of the unthinkable 15 years originally suspected is some cause for alarm.
Although Giantis reports the record was set straight by Kutcher’s high school principal, who insists the actor was 18 when he graduated in 1996, I guess she felt the need to document the ordeal anyway, just in case anyone heard the rumor and freaked out about the difference four years would make in the oh-so-public relationship of Ashton and Demi.
I don’t often complain about stuff like this, but lately, it’s been getting to me. I can’t watch shows like “Entertainment Tonight” without frustration building up inside. When a star is “spotted” in a ritzy restaurant, or Wal-mart for that matter, reporters gush about the filet mignon with side salad that was ordered, or the fact that whoever it was used a Visa to buy herself a new blow dryer.
It is pretty pathetic when there’s nothing else to report on except what J. Lo had for brunch. The sad part is, some people, pardon the pun, eat this stuff up.
Why is America so obsessed with the celebrity lifestyle? Do we really not have our own lives? Is that why some of us are content to veg out, read People and watch the Academy Awards pre-shows, thinking about how poor we are and how much we deserve a personal assistant?
The latest fashion in teen and pre-teen apparel is t-shirts, tank-tops, and sweats sporting names like “Mrs. Affleck” or “Mrs. Kutcher.”
Now, I’m no fashion guru or anything. But whenever I see a young girl wearing “Mrs. Affleck” across her rear end, it makes me laugh.
Our culture is so caught up in the celebrity lifestyle that many of us will do anything to be a player in their world of fame, fashion, fortune, and folly.
Devotion to and infatuation with celebrities has probably existed ever since there have been famous people. But over time, popular technologies such as television and the Internet have helped us to create an American society where we have a pre-occupation with stargazing. Channels such as “E!” feed our obsession.
Sometimes I wish that entertainment news could just mind its own business. Of course, that would put Mary Hart and Bob Goen out of a job.
Reporting about celebrities because that’s what America likes is fine, but please spare us the random, pointless facts.
Celebrity worship is a distinctly American ideal, and it’s becoming a little annoying. The generations growing up right now are surrounded by ideas that famous men and women are super-human with unattainable beauty and prestige.
Mark Twain once said, “Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it’s time to pause and reflect.”
It’s time to step back and take a look at what’s important in life, outside of celebrity rumors and fascination with their ridiculous lives.
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