I made this huge mistake this morning. I sat down to eat my Special K and non-fat milk (yeah, web dwellers, the holidays were not good for my ass-shrinking efforts, but at least I’ve gone shopping so I wasn’t eating whatever passes for marshmallows in Lucky Charms), and I turned on what I thought was some fairly innocuous morning blather: The Today Show. I figured Ann and Matt would be cooking some sort of crap in five minutes that would take most people three hours, then Al would make some self-deprecating joke, somebody would kiss a baby, and I’d be done with my cereal and ready to get to work. But, no.
First, Matt Lauer interviewed a woman whose baby girl has been missing for a month and grilled her about her baby’s father as if he’d already been convicted of killing this poor sweet child. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Ann then interviewed a couple who were kept from seeing their NICU-bound premature twins because Beyoncé and DJ Jibbity Jabber or whateverthefuck that dude’s name is decided to shut down a hallway for some kind of catered lunch for their plant-name-bearing offspring. [Side Rant: If you’re going to shell out half a billion dollars to give birth in some kind of Ritz Carlton Birthing Haven, why not take that money, build a stocked clinic in your 25,000 square foot monstrosity of a mansion, and hire some medical staff to manage your pseudo-home-birth there? Then you can have whatever kind of idiotic camera-blocking Robocops you want trolling the halls and you don’t have to piss off the whole country doing it. While you’re at it, consider not naming your child something really fucking stupid. Picking an actual NAME would be a good start.] Then there was some crap about yet another Republican presidential candidate who was doing something or someone he shouldn’t, and then there was, thank God, a commercial (Really, State Farm? Using the Cheers theme song? What is that about?), which snapped me out of my TV trance long enough for me to shut that thing off and get my ass to work.
But work was really no better. I took a “break” (aka: I was procrastinating) and went on Facebook, only to see a story about how people in India are having selective abortions and committing mass infanticide to rid their families of baby girls because dowries are too expensive and girls don’t bring the family any money when they marry. What. The. Fuck? I’ve got news for people in India: if no one has girls, all those boys are going to be pretty fucked when they grow up, and not in the good way.
Then I saw in my newsfeed that one friend was in the hospital, another’s kid broke a limb and a lamp in the same incident, and yet another had experienced a death in the family. Jiminy Freaking Cricket, web dwellers. I closed my eyes for a moment and let the thoughts just swirl around in my overloaded brain, trying to picture my mind as a colander that could sift out all the bad stuff and let it come out as one barbaric yawp that might scare anyone in a 40-foot radius but would at least get this horrible, unthinkable shit out of my brain.
That did not work.
In fact, if anything, my self-indulgently strangled yawp made me aware that there is no escaping this 24-hour-news-cycle of a world we live in at the moment. The Internet is here. Cable TV is here. And that shit’s not going away. So, I suppose, the only choice we have is to decide how we’re going to deal with the resulting info-overload. For me, I think I’ll try to remind myself that many, if not all, of these things would be happening whether they belonged to the collective consciousness or not. We just know about it now because CNN needs enough crap to keep their advertisers happy 24/7/365 (or this year, 366).
Missing children, self-important celeb-stitutes, genocide, male-prostitute-fucking “conservative” political candidates, dishonest politicians (redundant, I know), famine, war, and just straight-up stupid assholes … these things have pretty much always been around. There was a time when we didn’t have to know about it all. We could bury our heads like so many ostriches and not read The New York Times if we wanted to live in our bubbles. But I gotta tell you, web dwellers, that bubble has burst. And it does appear as though we’ve landed in a big pile of craptasticness.
So, instead of loathing the Internet, and cable TV, and the swirling vortex of Monsanto-polluted-cropland that used to be our planet, I’ve got a better idea. I’m going to use the means at my disposal (my laptop, my words, my Wi-Fi) to continue to bring you people as many laughs and smiles and ideas for shit to try with your sex partner(s) as I possibly can. Because we all need that these days. After all, it’s only going to get worse. It’s an election year.
P.S. As usual, remember to comment here ↓ and both “like” me on Facebook and “follow” Confessions of a Sexy Mom here →. Thanks!
P.P.S. It should be illegal to have major elections during a Leap Year. With all the damn campaigning, money wasting, and mud-slinging, a regular year is (by far) long enough.