Monday, August 30, 2010

Dancing With the Stars Season 11 Cast Revealed


Revenge of the Palintines

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

It is a period of civil rest and downright apathy. No one has the energy for war or revolution or anything else that might rip them away from the next reality television show. The Rebel fighters have long-since retired from battle, signing exclusivity contracts with the Galactic Empire to star in the premier season of "Droid Swap." Meanwhile, although the Death Star shines brighter than ever after its spotlight in "Extreme Home Makeover: Evil Space Station Edition," it merely serves as an overgrown satellite dish to broadcast to the rest of the galaxies the likes of "Survivor: Tattooine," "Last Ewok Standing," and the even more ridiculous reality shows we have on earth.
God help us all...
Just as soon as he's finished filming "Heaven's Kitchen." 

Does anyone else remember the movie "Running Man?" Stephen King/Richard Bachman predicted this shit years ago. Although we're not chasing criminals through the streets of New York in some sickly, death-crazed game show, we are scraping the bottom of the celebrity barrel by placing aging actors, former politician's children and (Yikes) some guy from Jersey Shore called "The Situation" on this season's cast of "Dancing with the Stars."

Well, America, here's the real situation: We are creating a living time capsule full of shit and when future generations look back on this era of our existence there will never be any unanswered questions - as there have been with the Greeks and the Romans before us - as to why the American Empire fell. Just the fact that the Dancing with the Stars cast release, considered "Volcanic" on the hot meter, is the top searched story of the day is very indicative of the current state of our nation. Anyone who still believes the Mayan's 2012 portends a spiritual revolution rather than an torturous, mind-numbing, hopefully meteoric apocalypse hasn't surfed through cable TV channels lately.

Enough said.


Fortunately for the rest of us, there is still Reality Reality, a show I much prefer to anyone else's manufactured version of what I unaffectionately call Emotional Pornography.

My personal reality show took a twist for the better today when I announced to my various co-workers at the elementary, middle, and high schools that I would be leaving my job to become a full-time stay-at-home dad. It was a sudden announcement but not a sudden decision, and I received nothing but support and admiration from the community of educators I work with. Many lamented not having made the same decision with their children while others shared their experiences of having done so. I felt some guilt about leaving my caseload of students behind, but one teacher reminded me (and my codependent inner-child), "Isaac, you're totally replaceable here, but you're irreplaceable to Amari." I stole that line and used it for the rest of the day.

The fact is I waited almost forty years to be a dad, and I can't find a good enough reason why I wouldn't set aside three or four to spend exclusively with this precious, little girl that has given me the greatest sense of competence I've ever felt. I will find a way to replace the lost income, but the time I would have lost would be gone forever.

Amari is growing more vocal every day. She babbles incessantly and her understanding appears to grow exponentially. She hugs and kisses and laughs and smiles, cries and whines and makes messes wherever she goes. She crawls freely, walks with assistant, but until today she was reluctant to pull herself onto her own feet. She would prop one foot beneath her as she pulled herself up onto a chair or a table, but never both feet. the physical equivalent of David Hasselhoff performing and entrechat-quatre in heels - Amari used the living room table to leverage her way up onto both feet just long enough for Carrie to take a few photos.

I may have missed this milestone, but I'll be there for the rest of them - and I'm guessing they won't include things like teen pregnancy and desperately seeking stardom. Maybe the former governor of Alaska should have spent a little more time at home and little less time impersonating Tina Fey.



  1. Today marks a very special day for me at it is the last night of UK Big Brother. Ever. I remember the first time I watched it and thought, "How stupid, everyone on this show is awful. There is no way it will last." But for some reason people loved it. Unfortunately one of those people was my wife. Robyn has been an avid fan for 10 long years and I have spent all that time with my ear-muffs on, reading a book and swearing quietly when the inane cackling reaches a level that penetrates 2 inches of protective foam padding. I still can't believe it has lasted 10 years. How could the hand-crafted, methodical distillation to shocking purity of the product of 30,000 years of human evolution to produce evil, self-serving morons, be so popular? I don't understand it; don't regular Joe's watching TV at night want to see something other than the same type of idiots they spend all day at work with? I guess not. I always imagined myself sitting in front of a divorce lawyer to explain that our irreconcilable differences were not centered on fidelity or financial troubles but due to a reality TV show. Well it's over now and I can breathe a sigh of relief at least until they bring in the next thing, surely an even more sublime selection of our race's finest specimens.

  2. p.s. Channel 5 bought the rights to Big Brother UK. Robyn, my lovely wife, I will see you in court.