Wednesday, January 22, 2003

Barbara, it was James Carville who made the crack about putting hollywood types in the coal mines at $6.30 an hour and see how they'd fare. Carville is interesting even when he's not speaking, because he looks like he could actually be a reptile.

It appears that CBS has put its new hillbillies thing on hold for now, due to a rural advocacy group out of West Virginia, the center for rural strategies, or something like that. The advocates put huge ads in the LA, Chicago and New York dailies, decrying what it said was the network's latest attempt to perpetuate the Appalachian stereotype. I'd just love to see what CBS would actually do with the thing, especially if it wound up using some crafty country people who "played the hillbilly" to fool the execs into hiring them for the show, then took it and ran in Beverly Hills.

When I lived in LA, there wasn't a day that passed in which I wasn't hit on for some spare change. I never passed through Beverly Hills without seeing some rags-clothed homeless guy parked on a bench next to a fabulous house. I would love to see a reality show in which greedy fuck Pat Robertson was placed in that situation. He could live in the carboard box city out by the train station, if gentrifiers haven't destroyed it by now. Better yet, I'd love to see the greedy fuck forced to participate in snake handling in northeast Alabama.

If ripping on Robertson sounds tired to any of you, I direct you to Palast is an American expatriate doing his work now for the British lefty press. Robertson gets more evil with each passing year. I watched the 700 Club the other night, and there he was, telling the faithful that their contributions could go to the far East, where it could get young women out of prostitution and buy them sewing machines and lessons. I can't decide which is worse, the whorehouse or the sweatshop. Robertson has made his decision, though. As he spoke, a photo of an attractive, hopeful-looking Asian woman flashed on the screen. But enough of that shit. OK, one more thing: Maybe he could be on a reality show in which he's a prison bitch at a high-security prison in Southern California. Trent Lott could be on that show too, and Jim Bakker could visit them to offer support and prayers. "We'll get through this with god's help," Bakker would tell them. "Just remember, when you lick the spoon, really lick it good. Get lots of saliva on there. Don't ask why. You'll thank me later." Ex-University of Mississippi cheerleader Lott would always have to wear a miniskirt for the rec yard ball games. Rah Rah!

I'd love to see a reality show in which Karl Rove attends university and gets an actual education, with his double-major and minors selected by the viewers. Then after graduation, the only job he can get is as a busboy, where he becomes addicted to cool-whip cans and is fired. He joins Robertson in either (and here's another online audience vote) the box city or prison.

I could do this all day, but I'd make you crazy.



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