Thursday, July 14, 2005
From On High
After you've been doing this for as long as I have, you build up a base of knowledge and wisdom all neatly archived by the fine, fine people at Blogger. That wealth of information is, of course, there for the edification of my readers at any time, so that they might partake of some small part of my deep and staggering intellect whenever the need arises. Sure, most of what I say will be incomprehensible to smaller minds and I recognize there's a danger that misunderstanding will cause harm to the feeb who don't read so good or to those around him/her. For instance when I say "go out and kill cats", someone might misinterpret "cats" as some kind of jazz beatnik slang meaning "people" or more specifically "my ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend" or whatever when really I'm only making the harmless suggestion that they should capture, torture and murder their neighbor's feline pets.
The important thing is that I recognize my voice carries weight amongst those listening and I should take my potential to reshape the world in just a few short keystrokes very, very seriously. It's like my Uncle Cliff Robertson told me once, "with great power comes great responsibility". But that was just before the carjacker got him, so what the fuck does he know.
There are few in the world who enjoy the same kind of immediate credibility as I do, whose voice automatically lends weight and resonance to anything they have to say. Whole communities can hang on the word of a person like that, whole worldviews remade on the slightest hint of instruction from one of these elite and noble sources.
You've probably guessed by now that I'm talking about Ben "Cooter" Jones. Ben Jones, as you obviously know, played gruff but loveable truck-driving Duke boy pal Cooter on The Dukes of Hazzard. He's come out publicly this week to say that people shouldn't see the new Dukes of Hazzard movie starring Johnny Knoxville, Seann William Scott and Jessica Simpson. The most shocking thing is that he's not saying you shouldn't see it just because it stars Johnny Knoxville, Seann William Scott and Jessica Simpson. No, his point is actually about content.
Ben "Cooter" Jones objects to all the raunchy nastiness of the new movie, apparently. He remembers his old show as family friendly and wholesome and feels the movie, with it's suggestive dialogue and racy innuendo, besmirches the memory and legacy of the show. This from a man who played a character named after a slang term for "vagina".
Also, didn't he ever notice Catherine Bach's ass hanging out of her cut-off denim short-shorts? They actually call them "Daisy Dukes" now, don't they? Well, if he didn't, I did. And I was pre-pubescent, so that's saying something.
But we shouldn't dismiss Twat's--sorry, Cooter's--objections out of hand. After all, this is a man who has dedicated his post-Dukes life to wringing every last cent out of the warm childhood memories of people who liked to watch cars jump over stuff when they were 8. Nostalgia for cash and the distant glow of sad, faded celebrity: what could be more American than that? Perhaps we owe him a chance to say his peace.
But then I remembered: oh yeah, he also used to be a Congressman. All goodwill spent. Credibility approaching zero... I think we've all only got room for one late-70s cheesy TV show veteran turned congressperson in our hearts and that space is taken by Fred "Gopher" Grandy. Cooter, I hate to say it, is just sloppy seconds.
Now as much as I didn't want to see the movie, I have to just to spite Cooter. Thanks a lot.
One last thing: I never, ever want to be in charge of a tabloid. The pictures are small, but they're the covers of two I saw side by side in the supermarket checkout line.
Notice two things: the main pictures in each are somewhat similar. No wait, make that exactly the same. They're from the recent Affleck-Garner blessed union. The second thing to notice isn't the knocked-up bride's white dress, no. It's that both magazine banner headlines scream EXCLUSIVE! With the exact same pictures. Beauty.
I don't know who the photographer is who sold the same two exclusives (my guess: Scott Foley) to two separate tabloids, but s/he's my new hero.
This post on the Narcissus Scale: 3.9