Dumb

So, my post last night wasn't up to snuff, it turns out. This is why I wish I could type as quickly as I think, because trust me, I think in concrete, well worded, spell and grammar checked, sentences.

I suppose there is another solution. I could slow down my thinking, try and become dumber. This solution has merit. Stop reading anything of value. Stop writing. Listen to the radio. Watch Jersey Shore. I could do those things. Plus, let's face it, The Situation's abs are hard to keep your eyes off of anyhow.

Hmm... my mind is beginning to pick up. I will do my utmost to avoid allowing it to reel.

Perhaps one of the reasons we are so constantly bombarded with the meaningless messages of reality TV and music videos is to usher along the process of brain cell destruction. It makes sense. As I wrote a while ago, these entertainment business people know what sells. They've figured out how to trick us into tricking ourselves. Dumb people like dumb shows, movies, music. This opens the door for dumb writers, directors, performers to do their thing without anyone blowing the "wait just one minute" whistle and tell them that all they put out is crap. This leads to executives who are making more money, paying their underlings less (what do they know? They can't count past their current age), and still being hailed as gods by the world at large. That means you Bruckheimer. Here's the kicker, at least tonight's kicker, the executives aren't even as smart as the ones that came before. The system is already in place. The guys that are climbing the ladders in "the biz" are the same guys that you saw at your ten year reunion last year that were still wearing their hair bleached, spiked, and with sun glasses set carefully on top. These are your text book popped collar morons.

Now, to be fair, there are still some intelligent people who make good things. I'm not talking about them though, I am talking about the Romans, having their gladiators grace the sands for the carnal enjoyment of the mob. I am talking about Brett Ratner. I am not talking about J.J. Abrams or M. Night. We all know the good ones in our hearts. It's just a matter of pulling our heads out of the ground and trying to reclaim our intelligence. Dunford does it every day. (If you don't know who Dunford is, you should figure it out. The dude is a role model.) I try and claw my way toward inspiration daily, for all the good it does me.

I paint a pretty bleak picture, I know. But you need to understand that I have faith in us. I have faith that I will be someone to be admired, that you will be someone to be marveled at. We just have to knock Tyra off Oprah's curtails and start supporting people of substance. We have to realize what we were when we started, sponges, and try to squeeze out the muck we've been mopping up for decades.

I believe we can, we should, be better than what we are now.

Fin.

(I just mean finished. I am not insinuating that what I just wrote was some sort of artsy black and white french film.)

I hope that was more coherent for you.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

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