There was a time when the lives of Hollywood actors and media-grabbing darlings wasn’t so connected with our own. A time when we weren’t saturated with headlines dealing with the night lives of “out of control” pop music stars or the birth of a pompous actor’s baby. But it’s not that time today. Here right now, I’m on a computer with internet access. Let me check out a few news and information sites.

I take a gander at yahoo.com and what’s this…Britney Spears’ former friends are boycotting her current album? Holy crap, this totally deserves preferential placement at the top of the first page! And, oh my God, get ready for this: She apparently ran over a photographer’s foot while driving her white Mercedes convertible. Alright Yahoo!, way to catch that one!

Now let’s check ABC News – they’ve always been great at dishing out content pertaining to everyday life. Get this guys and gals: The sock from the foot of Spears’ photographer victim is selling on eBay for 1,025 dollars. Thanks ABC! It was your duty to provide that Spears-flash for us to store in our brains; her life has such direct and special relevance to our own.

Okay, that’s totally enough of that pure fucking garbage.

Hollywood Freaks now rule the land. People pay more attention Jennifer Anniston’s love life than they do to their own children.

Hollywood Freaks now rule the land. People pay more attention Jennifer Anniston’s love life than they do to their own children. Consider what out-of-the-loop me knows about Britney Spears. I don’t read the paper regularly. I don’t subscribe to US Weekly or People Magazine. I barely watch TV, and when I do it’s usually not the E! Channel. So, how is it I know the following worthless information about Ms. Spears?

In the last couple of years Britney Spears has been caught driving around with her infant son on her lap without a seatbelt, “accidentally” shown her vagina to the paparazzi, divorced a third rate rapper, shaved her head, gone to rehab more than once, had the media debate for months her fitness as a mother, gained weight, made a bad show of her talents at the MTV music awards, lost custody of her two children, and, finally, ran over a photographer’s foot. I don’t listen to Britney Spears records. I don’t have any Britney Spears posters on my walls. My screen saver is not a giant cleavage shot of Britney Spears. I don’t find her attractive, and I do believe she’s a corporate musician used by evil record executives to make wads of cash. So why, why, do I have this wealth of knowledge regarding this spoiled singer stored in my memory banks? I’ll answer that later.

I really don’t need her mucking up what’s between my ears.

First, let me tell you why it matters, why it’s so goddamn important that you really, really have to focus on my words right now. Don’t answer your cell phone. Don’t surf away into cyberspace or press the power button on your Xbox. Even if you haven’t really enjoyed this article so far, just shut off any outside interference and listen. The reason it matters why I’ve got the recent escapades of Britney Spears on my brain is because I only have space for a certain amount of information, and the aforementioned pop star has no bearing on my life whatsoever. I really don’t need her mucking up what’s between my ears. It may be a miniscule chunk of data, but combined with Tom Cruise’s Scientology bullshit, the life and times of Paris Hilton, the rise and fall and rise and fall of that little alcoholic Lindsey Lohan, and Brad Pitt’s newfound “I’m a giver” realizations, I’ve barely got time to think about my own pathetic existence.

Did I say pathetic? That’s because not only does the media saturate me with the day-to-day actions of today’s spotlighted stars, they also make it seem so freakin’ interesting and entertaining that what happens to me during my short time on Earth doesn’t even hold a candle to it. I’m pumped full of this shit and the result is some sort of sick “I’m not worthy” complex. Don’t believe it? Then you’ve become so indoctrinated that you’ve taken the other road. Through some sort of reality TV / Hollywood star osmosis your ego has received a generous kick in the pants that’s left you absolutely convinced you might be a contender for Survivor or the next round of The Bachelor.

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