Monday, May 02, 2005
The weapons-grade bioterror lab that is Kindergarten has once again claimed my eldest boy. I had to conduct an infiltration and extraction mission late this morning, which means I have less time to think of wonderful things about which to blog.
I was leaning heavily toward writing about People magazine's decision to include kidnap-victim Elizabeth Smart in this year's 50 Most Beautiful People list.
Kudos to the people at People for maintaining their longstanding tradition of taking serious events and overlaying their own special brand of dead-eyed vacuousness (vacuosity? vacuity? if you're like me and you don't know, just substitute "stupid-head-ness").
On the one hand it's sweet to give the girl a taste of public attention not associated with being stolen from her home and forced to do God knows what with America's Nastiest Homeless Person.
On the other hand, am I the only one who finds this a little creepy? I figure the reason she was taken in the first place was because America's Nastiest Homeless Person saw her on a couple of occasions and was struck by her physical attractiveness, which makes mass-media public distribution and reinforcement of that particular feature sort of... I dunno. Maybe it is just me.
Plus I would think any kind of media attention would have to remind her why she--a 17 year old Utah girl without any kind of sitcom deal--is being/has been singled out in the first place, because she was kidnapped and then spent the better part of a year in the company of America's Nastiest Homeless Person and his wife, Witch Hazel.
Perhaps I'm overthinking.
Then in reading the excerpts from the article, it turns out she spends all her time indoors (because of her "fair skin") chained to a giant harp, an instrument no one has played since the last wandering bard's pack-animal died. If she were anyone else she'd be praying for someone--anyone--to sweep in and carry her away from all of it. Things being as they are however, I bet she doesn't mind so much.
See, this is what you get when my day gets disrupted. Pray for the health of my children, won't you?
This post on the Narcissus Scale: 6.0