I'm sorry, but I simply can not get past the eyeball tattoos. If at any moment you feel the need to get a tattoo on your eyeball "I don’t think there’s any better time to sit down for that little heart-to-heart with yourself. ‘Good morning. This is your wake-up call. It’s from Darwin.’ But that’s just one person’s tiny drama, meaningless except in the bigger picture, which is trying to isolate the exact moment we turned into Trash Nation."
I blame William Shatner. Allow me to explain. Roadkill 911, as I so reverently called it, was the first step on the highway to hell that is UnReality TV. It was the tentative toe dip into others' misery that led us to a Honey Real Bounty Singer Beach Pad Survivor Factor mentality. That only encouraged Hollywouldn't to throw up it's collective lazy hand and admit they have run out of any decent ideas, and began broadcasting anything that would hold still for a clear (enough) shot. Meanwhile, Theater as they say, struggles on, with less recognition outside Manhattan than ever. How about bringing Shatner to Broadway? Turn the tables and maybe induce popular appeal to Theater and force Hollywouldn't to go back to actual work, instead of lionizing never-beens.
But lay the hell off Shatner for not making it to Nimoy's funeral. The guy may have accidentally killed American Society, but he had a charity thing he had planned months prior and I'm fairly certain I heard Nimoy saying, "No, Bill, do the charity gig, I don't care what happens to the shell that used to house my soul. I'm In Search Of the next great adventure..."
Yes, it still hurts.
I blame William Shatner. Allow me to explain. Roadkill 911, as I so reverently called it, was the first step on the highway to hell that is UnReality TV. It was the tentative toe dip into others' misery that led us to a Honey Real Bounty Singer Beach Pad Survivor Factor mentality. That only encouraged Hollywouldn't to throw up it's collective lazy hand and admit they have run out of any decent ideas, and began broadcasting anything that would hold still for a clear (enough) shot. Meanwhile, Theater as they say, struggles on, with less recognition outside Manhattan than ever. How about bringing Shatner to Broadway? Turn the tables and maybe induce popular appeal to Theater and force Hollywouldn't to go back to actual work, instead of lionizing never-beens.
But lay the hell off Shatner for not making it to Nimoy's funeral. The guy may have accidentally killed American Society, but he had a charity thing he had planned months prior and I'm fairly certain I heard Nimoy saying, "No, Bill, do the charity gig, I don't care what happens to the shell that used to house my soul. I'm In Search Of the next great adventure..."
Yes, it still hurts.
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