Tuesday, June 10, 2003

you go to my head

and i feel you spinning round in my brain...

[my coworker just spit out her nicorette: "i'd rather have the cigarette taste in my mouth than this; you can't even blow bubbles with it"]

last night, at a bar with some friends, celebrating a 21st of a random person who i had never met before, i was pretty tired, and so i found myself staring at one of the televisions there, cnn akimbo. crucifying hillary clinton, as usual, aaron brown rattling on about how cold she is or something, envoking shades of the style article i read in the post yesterday by some bitter fellow named tim shale (i think,). then i found myself wondering if the blonde anchor was cross-eyed.

me: "is she cross-eyed?"
friends: "who?"
me: "that anchor on cnn"
(friends examine anchor)
friend who is a girl: "no, her make-up is just horrible"
friend who is a guy: "and that guy's kind of weird looking, too" (pointing out that the guy being interviewed looks like a warped ken doll)

who are these people? and how much plastic surgery is required these days in order to pretend to be a journalist? walter cronkite wasn't exactly a looker, but he represented something. the man was an institution, a pillar, a virtual well of reliability and information. when you see pictures of him, you know that that guy was a newsman, with a capital N.

what if the amount of superficiality we demand on the faces of our newscasters is intricately related to the amount of superficiality in the reporting?

and on a sidenote, i'd like to say that last night i also discovered that most of my friends go into lockdown mode when the president gets mentioned: "don't get her started."

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