The Internet Reminds Me Why I Hate People

There was a story about Pierce Brosnan that broke today, over at TMZ and later picked up by Reuters. It’s nothing major, seems he was accosted by a paparazzi while he was at a mall with his kids, words were exchanged and Brosnan ended up hitting the photographer. A fairly typical Hollywood story these days and I only clicked on the article because I’m a fan of Brosnan’s and I was curious. He doesn’t make headlines very often, especially like this.

I don’t really have an opinion on the story. He probably shouldn’t have hit the guy, but shit happens. It’s not a big deal in the grand scheme of things and it’s a very small blemish on an otherwise spotless career.

What bothers me (what always bothers me) is the reader reaction. Reading through the comment thread at TMZ made me want to take a shower. Insults and hostility pepper the thread, from references to Brosnan being a has-been to insinuations that he used to beat his girlfriend.

Why do people find it necessary to denigrate every celebrity that comes along? What is it inside of us, as a species, that makes us enjoy such an activity? I understand the occasional potshot at a Britney or a Paris, especially when they go out of their way to make themselves targets, but most of this stuff is just mean. Go read through some of the threads at Fark and you’ll see what I’m talking about.

Is it the relative anonymity of the internet that brings out the worst in people?

(On a side note, when did we reach the point in our culture where someone is a has-been if they aren’t actively in a top ten movie? What’s the definition here? Brosnan seems to have a pretty solid career at the moment. He’s moved from big budget affairs like the Bond series to some more offbeat or arty pictures like The Matador and Seraphim Falls, but that appears to be a conscious choice on his part. A look at IMDB shows several projects in the works for the next couple of years. He’s not hurting for work. Likewise, the net is full of discussions that refer to Tom Cruise as a has-been and his last movie made over $200 Million. I seem to be missing something here.)

A decade ago politicians were declaring that the internet would unite diverse people in ways that were previously impossible. Looks like they were right. Mob mentality is taking hold and the citizens of the net have been united in hatred of, well, just about everything.

Except cats.

View From The Outside # 2 - Open For Debate

There was a headline on the Drudge Report yesterday (reproduced below, including link to article).

Gore Refuses Debate Challenges

Forget about the article, that’s not my problem here. My problem is the idea that science is up for debate, as if it is theology or philosophy.

Science is about what is. Even when we’re not entirely sure of every detail of the equation. Take, for instance, gravity. There are still some holes in our knowledge of exactly how gravity works. That’s why it’s called a theory, not a law.

Now, I can step up to you and challenge you to a debate on gravity. You’re a fool if you waste your time engaging me. You see, it doesn’t matter who wins the debate, when I drop this rock, it’s still going to fall to the ground.

So, for those out there that wish to “debate” global warming (or evolution), go do something productive with your time, will you? And stay out of the gene pool.

Blessed Sleep….

Okay, finally got some sleep last night (a good ten hours worth) and I feel sort of like myself today. A bit cranky, but then, that’s pretty much normal.

Friday night was an abysmal mess of bar hopping and Long Island Iced Teas, ignited by an ill-advised shot of Wild Turkey. There was pool playing with indeterminate people who may or may not have spoken English. Its all a little hazy. Although I distinctly remember an annoying variation on eight-ball called last pocket. Wherever you sunk your final ball, you had to place the eight in the same pocket. We won every game anyway, but it was still annoying.

So, a roundup of recent events is due:

The Robert Christian Band concert went off extremely well. There were some behind the scenes hiccups (there always are), but nothing the audience could see. A good two and a half hour show with a wide array of muscians. And lots of money raised for the Crystal Lake Art Center.

The band released their first CD at the show, copies are selling briskly at a meager ten bucks a pop. Anyone who would like one should get in touch with me. The debut single is posted over on my Club of Mars page, just clink the top link in my sidebar there to the right.

Luciano Pavarotti has passed away. I was never a fan, but I bore him no ill will. May he rest in peace and my condolences go out to his fans, friends and loved ones.

****Dave pointed out in the Larry / Lana thread that the whole sex change thing may not be true. meh. Don’t really care, just hope they get it sorted out by December so we all know what name to put on the Christmas Cards.

I am thinking about taking somebody up to Traverse next Friday, just to get both of us out of Benzie County for a night. Things grow stale. Any suggestions for fun in TC?

Oh, and I don’t give a shit how good or bad it might be, I am not going to see a movie that has the nerve to call itself “Shoot Em Up”. This trend needs to be stomped out right now, before we end up with a cowboy movie called “Western”.

Sigh.

I’ll be concentrating pretty heavily on the writing this week. I may do a short piece for here on Wed or Thu, haven’t decided yet.

And that, is the weekly roundup.

Grumpy Sunday Morning Blogger

My wife is now, officially, a student at Michigan State. I took her down to her dorm on Friday and helped her move in. Having never really been on a college campus before, I have to say that the experience was surreal. It was like the place was its own little self-contained universe.

Her room seems nice enough, if a bit on the small side. Plenty of places to stash stuff. It’s in Owen Hall, which apparently houses most of the foreign students along with the upperclassmen. Should make for an interesting mix.

There was a tornado while I was there. A fucking tornado. Air raid sirens and everything. We tried to go into the grocery store to buy a couple of bottles of pop and the guy told us that they “were open for shelter, not groceries”. Fucking weird day.

So I returned to Frankfort, picked up my friend, Micah, who was celebrating his birthday, and we went to the bar and drank far too much while listening to a band called Phenomenal heaD, who are sounding a lot better than they were a year ago.

Saturday I worked for twelve hours straight, something I’ll be doing a lot of this week since the shop’s owner is out of town. There was some drinking last night, but not like Friday. If I did Friday two days in a row, I’d be dead. Getting old sucks.

Now it’s Sunday, my apartment is empty and I’m sitting at work with a two day old hangover. This is a sure fire recipe for grumpy. Not as Grumpy as Warren, by the sounds of it, but grumpy nonetheless.

My bed is too big for one and I’m not looking forward to that empty apartment, tonight.

“My shoes are too tight and I have forgotten how to dance.”