I didn’t know that there was a one-legged contestant on Dancing with the Stars because I don’t watch TV, and I don’t watch TV because I don’t have cable, and the only thing I can pick up on my television that isn’t really equipped for rabbit ears is that bluescreen show that seems to be so popular in the reruns these days. Anyways, I don’t know where I get off fancying myself a commentator on American society and having a category called 15 Minutes when I don’t watch TV and use words like fancying. It’s oxymoronic in a Condoleeza Rice kind of way: black, educated, but a Republican.
Anyway, there is a one-legged contestant on Dancing with the Stars, and I can still put in my own two sense even if they’re not as shony as WWTDD’s:
Obviously she’s handicapped and we’re supposed to pretend this is empoweringly heroic, but here’s the thing: it’s not. It’s really not. She’s kind of a bitch and she can’t dance. She looks like a drunk on stilts. She looks like someone put a baby giraffe on skates and then pushed it. For three minutes, she looks so hopelessly lost and confused, I swear to christ if you could somehow get a monkey out of a time machine and then immediately put him on stage, he’d do as good or better. Oh, and THEN she falls down. Ta-da!
Personally, I couldn’t get past the first 30 seconds, but that’s because I think I’m too cultured to watch this kind of shit. Either way, the point is that I can’t tell who’s more depressing and pathetic: peg-leg, the people who gawk at her, or the people who actually think that this is empowering.
Then again, when I think about it, I don’t really know what else to expect. I can see how peg-leg thinks this kind of thing is empowering: her life has pretty much been a hopeless struggle for mediocrity ever since she got a peg for a leg. And the gawkign is perfectly natural. I mean, we all slow down to try and get a glimpse of guts and gore at every fender-bender we pass.
For fuck’s sake, I’m even using my elitist bullshit as a pretense to blog about it and gawk at her, and that makes me worse than the people who call it empowering, because they’re just trying to make themselves feel better for being such voyeuristic shits, and I’m not only revelling in it, but saying that I’m above it by doing so. Then again, the lowest common denominator is what’s so great about this country. It’s the reason that democracy, the market, and half-naked chick on my box of breakfast cereal are all possible.
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