The Dangerously Overexposed

Slap on some Solarcaine, baby.  You've made Mary's list! (Your nominations are welcome, and your participation is appreciated.)

I should warn you that many of these entries have become horribly out-of-date. And get this: I'm actually sufficiently convinced of how clever I was when I wrote them that I am reluctant to replace them and would rather allow them to live on in outdated glory. You're completely right to hate me. I'm unbelievably full of myself.

  • Local News Anchors - You know, when you're quite through trying to convince me how much you care about me and how you're my "neighbor" and all, maybe you can rearrange your schedule and squeeze in some journalism coursework. When was the last time any of these guys read a newspaper that wasn't stuck to the teleprompter in the middle of a peculiar and unexplained indoor hurricane? My feelings for local sportscasters and weathermen are only slightly more malevolent.

  • "Crisis in the White House" - It's a load of piddle, and you know it. I have formed a pretty lengthy opinion which is housed under the Soapbox. You are more than welcome to read it and agree with me.

  • James Cameron's Titanic - Okay, I'll admit I cried -- both times I saw it. But isn't all this hype getting a little out of hand? As much as I am impressed with the stunning visual effects in the film, I still found myself wincing at occasional bouts of cornball dialogue and wishing (as I am wont to do) that Bill Paxton had been busy the day they filmed his scenes. It is NOT the greatest movie ever made. And, in case it is at issue, Star Wars made the bulk of its box office money when ticket prices were half what they are today. Perhaps we should be concerned about actual theatre attendance, rather than simple dollar figures. Give credit where credit is due, I always say.

  • Award Shows - Maybe the actual number of award shows hasn't increased exponentially in recent years, but the number being broadcast in prime time certainly has. Video rental stores are giving out awards, for Pete's sake! And they're able to fill auditoriums with moderately famous people waiting to collect them. I'm beginning to wonder if there's anyone in Hollywood -- or Nashville, for that matter -- who hasn't got a pretty parade of shiny statuettes on his or her mantlecap. With the number of opportunities they've got, anyone who hasn't won an award by now must be some sort of cosmic talent black hole. (I'm avoiding any mention of Susan Lucci here because I strive for higher ground in my comedic efforts.) Perhaps this year we'll see the premiere of the Campbell's Awards for Excellence in Canned Goods or the Seventeen Magazine Salute to Fresh Complexions or the Birkenstock All-Star Celebrity Tribute to Ergonomic Footwear. I'll check my local TV listings and get back to you.

  • Me - Have you SEEN how many hits my font page is getting? It's insane! The burden of fame is heavy on my shoulders.

  • Kennedy Shenanigans - I say leave them to poke their staff in peace. I mean, are we at all surprised by any of this? They are after all Kennedys. I understand there's a little fine print declaration at the bottom of the Constitution that says if you're famous enough or from the right stock, you can pretty much get away with murder in this country. But I'm not positive. You might want to check with O.J. Simpson's attorneys on that.

  • Heaven's Gate - Enough already. Honestly. What is the big deal? Aside from a mysterious affection for activewear, I don't know what we're so curious about. The biggest tragedy of all is the direct evidence this presents of the correlation between a really dopey haircut and prolonged periods of celibacy ending ultimately in suicide. And secondarily, will we ever be able to take a gander at a comet without someone nearby quipping: "Did you see the spaceship? Heh, heh." Comedy is a privilege -- not a right.

  • Michael Flatley - Riverdance Schmiverdance. Okay, so the guy pulls off some fancy-ass footwork. I'm just tired of his heavy eyeliner and his "Worship Me!" dance poses. But I am happy to see that Michael Jackson has found a new career designing Flatley's costumes. Way to go, Jacko!

  • Rosie O'Donnell - Rosie is a good stand-up comic. And she has done filmwork. But that show of hers is just a prime time asskissing festival. Is there anyone who comes on her show who ISN'T her favorite something?

  • Schoolhouse Rock - How could something so cool be turned so terribly uncool instantaneously? Relentless commercialization and the cheering support of countless punk kids dabbing at the cloudy fluid weeping from their most recent piercings, that's how. My theory is coolness diminishes in direct proportion to the number of on-topic T-shirts released by [insert name of local novelty T-shirt store here]. Rest in peace, Interplanet Janet.

  • Curious George - See "Schoolhouse Rock."

  • Jenny McCarthy - I know that you, like me, are waiting impatiently for yet another opportunity to see this zany gal sniff her armpits or pick her nose or loll her tongue around anywhere but inside her mouth. I can't get enough of that brilliant comedy she serves up. She's wacky! But there are other aspiring young former nude models who deserve a shot at stardom, too. And -- if I may lobby a personal request -- could they be self-involved, unoriginal, and from the South Side of Chicago, too? Thanks. [Note: Hey, guess what! It looks like I singlehandedly wished Jenny McCarthy's career dead. I AM magic after all!]

  • Coffee - Sure. I like coffee just fine. But when did the latte replace the martini as the swingin' drink of the hour? I'll take mine straight up with an olive, if you don't mind. Shaken, not stirred -- and plenty of foamed milk. In support of my thinking here, a friend relayed a bit of Dennis Miller wit to me. Something about building a Starbuck's inside another Starbuck's. Very amusing when told properly, I assure you.

  • Bill Clinton - I know he's president of the most powerful nation in the world, but for God's sake do I need to hear something about him every cottonpicking day?!
  • [Epilogue: I now regret having had this thought. I'll be far more interested in how Bill Clinton fills his post-presidential days than in how George W. Bush will go about his plans to destroy democracy and reinstate feudalism while simultaneously banning choice, federalizing Christianity, and enacting a national holiday to celebrate the incarnation of the Dallas Cheerleaders.]

  • Tolerance - I'm much fonder of the "my way or the highway" brand of Americanism that was so popular from the birth of our great nation until sometime in the '60s. Internment camps, Red Scares, hush-hush lynchings -- we've dulled our senses enough to find one of the Cosby shows ample substitute for this thrilling fare. Tsk tsk.

  • Healthful Eating Habits - Did you know that Lucipher himself is head of Nabisco's Snackwells division? It's true. And the cookies still taste like crap. I say Chicken McNuggets all around and a milkshake chaser. Shave a few truffles over your Hot Mustard dipping sauce and you've got haute cuisine.

  • Irene Cara - I just wish that chick would get out of our collective face. Don't you?

  • Tiger Woods - Tiger Woods is officially overexposed. Apparently, getting the little ball to go through the windmill and into the hole is something of a challenge. Who knew?

  • No Doubt - As if such a thing were possible, her romantic involvement with Gavin (I can't remember his last name -- it's something like "Poseur" I think) from Bush makes me like Gwen Stefani even less. I do have to admit that her image consultants almost got one by me: I just recently learned that she isn't in fact a practicing Hindu. Wouldn't you know it. That red dot on her forehead's just for decoration.

To see your own opinions typed here in hotdog stand colors, please feel free to submit a nomination.

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