… drum roll please, accompanied by the sound of one hand clapping … Jamie Lee Curtis , for this strained attempt at relevance on The Huffington Post. The “actress, children’s book author” begins her screed by quoting Michael Jackson, that philosopher for the ages, from his song “Man in the Mirror.” After posting the lyrics in their entirety, Curtis writes — It is a tragedy he couldn’t follow his own advice. This week has given us all a chance to look in a mirror. The mirror of our hatred, racism, and the sad, harrowing realities of addiction, enabling and omnipotence run amok. To paraphrase the punchline of that old joke about the Lone Ranger and Tonto surrounded by hostile Indians, what’s this “our” stuff, paleface? More excerpts — The World Cup, in all its global glory, reminds us each day: say no to racism. The World Cup reminds us, especially now that it’s mercifully over — no wonder soccer hasn’t caught on in America. A championship game won in overtime with score of 1-0 — they’re kidding, right?! Addiction and all its descendants, enablers, co-dependents, co-defendants, co-conspirators, warring parents passing the blame like athletes pass the ball as we are watching oil executives pass on the responsibility … all of this available for our absorption and hopefully our discussion. Wow, hard to believe the editors at HuffPo let that “discussion” pass without changing it to “dialogue” (though “hopefully” slipping through comes as no surprise). And do analogies get more pithy than “warring parents passing the blame like athletes pass the ball”? Unless they’re World Cup competitors and the next goal hours away. The problem is that we like to point and stare and then return to the dark. The lights are on everyone, we just have to see. Isn’t this what Big Brother always wanted for us? The audio of Mr. Gibson is another new perspective. It is the audio of millions of people all over this country. Ms. Curtis speaks from experience, hearing these voices in her head on a regular basis. And the images of Ms. Lohan weeping in court and soon, in a prison uniform, are the images of hundreds of thousands young inmates, with no flashy lawyers or media outlets chronicling their exploits. They are alone, living with the realities of their actions and the system’s reaction to it. Alas, they are represented by mere court-appointed attorneys on the taxpayer dime. Unless those accused are jihadists, whereupon the ACLU and Center for Constitional Rights parachute to their defense. I was also shocked at the vitriol and spew being leveled at Lebron James. So shocked I couldn’t bother getting his name right. Yes, the special seemed over the top but he was and is allowed to make a choice that is his … … and as my yoga shaman reminds me during my weekly colonic cleanse, all choices are equally valid. The Cav’s owner, instead of thanking him for all his years of skill and service to his team and town, instead eviscerated him like the mob in France with King Louis. Except that Louis was beheaded and James leaves Cleveland fabulously wealthy, the world his oyster. Except for that. The origin of the red flag of revolution being the Red Guards — after the King’s protectors’ uniforms were ripped from their torn and savaged bodies, the red uniforms were turned into flags on sticks representing revolution and its bloody aftermath. They burned Mr. James’ jerseys. Burned them. Really? Can the burning crosses be far behind? (barely suppressed sob) You think it’s easy being this deeply sensitive?! So here we are, world cup fever at its peak, the final match, the champions to be decided. We will all get to see those beautiful young children holding the hands of the players as they walk them out onto the field of play and we will all weep as they unfurl the banner … SAY NO TO RACISM. The question is can we peacefully raise the red flag against it and revolt and boycott and protest and put democracy to work against this enemy? … who clearly include Cleveland Cavs owner Dan Gilbert, though I prefer to imply this in weasel fashion instead of coming out and saying it.
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And in the Category of Pointless Celebrity Tripe, the Winner is …
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