It’s, like, y’know, the End of the World
Steve Campbell | Jul 12, 2016 | Comments 4
In the crazy, mixed-up world of today, we all have a lot to worry about. The very foundation of Western Society seems to be threatened at every turn. Each day we reel from news of mass shootings, ISIS, Zika virus, Brexit, gang and drug violence, murders, child abduction … all this before you finish your morning Cheerios. Topped off with the latest cerebral musings of Donald Trump, so you can polish your breakfast off with some subtly racist and sexist views, issued at high volume, with all the passion of a fake evangelist.
Through the amazing medium of television, I have actually discovered the lynchpin in the upcoming fall of western civilization.
But before I get to that, I would like to do a brief psychological breakdown of Donald Trump. As you know, I am not a certified psychologist, but lack of skill and training has never stopped me from endless analysis of the world around me.
Most human beings have a membrane in their heads between the brain and the mouth. This prevents randomly ridiculous thoughts from rolling out unexpectedly into a multitude of microphones. Most people who want to be world leaders have this membrane and, in most cases, it has seen more action than a trampoline.
This is particularly harmful in Trump’s case, because his brain also has a unique filtering system that objects to everyone, of any race or sex, who doesn’t think like him. This why it’s okay to be Mexican, as long as you live in Mexico, where beaners belong.
This causes the mouth to propose building a wall across Mexico, to keep out the Mexicans who transform into thieves, murderers and rapists once they hit American soil. Ordinarily, this activity would fit right in with regular Americans but, by God, it’s only right that Americans should be the only ones killing Americans. And we have the assault rifles to prove it.
So how has he come this far? That brings back the phony evangelist thing. Because, paradoxically, a billionaire who lives almost completely on influence, fame and power, has convinced the common American that the government sucks, because it plays off influence and power. And he can fix that. Somehow. Good enough for me, and a frightening number of average citizens.
Enough on that. I just wanted to see if I could write more words about Trump than Time magazine. Perhaps when the Times of Wellington does a special 10,000 page edition.
So, now that you’re warmed up, let’s go genuinely fix the world.
I have determined the starting point of the destruction of our civilization. Its name is: The Kardashians.
I know I’ve taken a couple of swipes at the Ks in past columns, based only on the commercials for the show.
Being an uncertified sociologist, and an untrained psychologist (neither of which makes me a dime) I realized that I was breaking my own rule: I was vilifying a show I had not seen.
This, to me, is like trying to ban a book I have not read, or censor a movie I have not seen. Which many people love to do. So I decided to take a bullet for the team, and actually watch the show.
It was off to a shaky start. About five minutes in, Kathy walked by and said: “What on earth are you watching?”
“It’s research,” I said. Here’s what I discovered:
My gut feeling was true. This is indeed a show with a pile of people who are gorgeous, extremely rich, variously somewhat famous, almost completely devoid of discernible talent, and borderline brainless.
Sorry, I should have said, “Spoiler Alert” before I wrote that.
It’s about a family of Kardashians, who are about as diametrically opposed to the Waltons as Trump is to Einstein. As far as I can tell, all of the children are girls, and all their first names start with K. All of them are married, engaged or dating men who completely fit the description above, and who all own what I call ‘Don Johnson Shavers’ which maintain a 24-hour beard stubble.
Most famous(?) is Kim who, in the ad, bemoans: “I just wish I could go out and nobody know who I am!” Wouldn’t be hard to do, if you cancelled your 7 am hairstylists, make-up artists, wardrobe outfitters and limo driver.
Her sage sister K-something says: “Trust me, you wouldn’t like it.”
Kim’s guy is Kanye West who seems to be a well-known rapper. He wrote a song called ‘I love Kanye’, because he was looking around his mansion for things he loved, and saw himself.
He speaks little in the show. In my episode, he said, “Hey, Baby Girl!” No wonder he’s a rapper … wow, what a gift for words! Perhaps he abides by Mark Twain’s rule: “Better to stay silent and be thought a fool, than to open your mouth and prove it!” Sadly, for him, it works both ways.
In my episode, Mama K invites all the Ks into a private jet to fly to Vale, Colorado, for a ski expedition. There’s big problems, because all the Ks don’t like all of the other Ks stubble-bearded partners. So they set about to undermine and sabotage each other’s plan – including Mama K’s mountain-top dinner party (rented the whole restaurant), in which no Ks showed up at the helicopter pad.
Yikes, John-Boy, looks like the Ks are turnin’ inta bitches. Look away Liz-Beth.
The whole group is like the high-school girly cliques, who revelled in drama, break-ups, make-ups, and just a general feeling of superiority.
In one laugh-out-loud scene, the Ks all go to Vale on a shopping expedition.
“I love shopping in small towns!” K-something coos, as they enter a store named Givenchy. Here they have amazing form-fitting ski outerwear, with no price tags evident. (If you have to ask, you can’t afford it!) Keep in mind they all live in L.A., so all of these outfits will be pitched out the jet window somewhere in Nevada.
On a last note, it was painful to listen to their inane conversations: “I’d like, y’know, like to, like, thank you, y’know, for like, y’know helping me.” County people don’t have time for this. Sometimes a nod does the trick.
But, y’know, it’s like, y’know, my brain like needs y’know some time, like to y’know, think of like the next word, y’know.
Unlike Trump, their brain membranes are too thick. Pushing a thought out of a K-brain is like trying to hammer a monkey through a keyhole.
On the bad side, we’re all doomed. Western civilization is collapsing. On the good side you, like, heard it here first.
Filed Under: News from Everywhere Else • Steve Campbell
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I think the safer place did exist.
Based on Steve’s previous posts and choice of words I’d say he and Trump have a lot in common -they both long to return to an era that never existed in the first place.
Sorry Chris, I was trying to express it in Trump’s vernacular, not mine.
“Where Beaners belong” – Really, Steve?!! Shame on you and County Live. Apparently you’re both suffering from “Trumpitis”.