The year 2008 has barely begun to stroke its symbolical short-one, yet still the ceaselessly syphilitic scourge of sanity that is the so-called cult of celebrity continues to shamelessly sully the synapses of both the simply shiftless sensible and the simply simple senseless with its insidious secretions of the pseudo-stimulating.
Crunkfish contemplates the frenzied culture of the fatuous, the enduring contagion of the inane, and the vehement curse of the vacuous, that continues to cover this country in a cretinous cloud of crud – cruelly killing the accomplishment of the self-cultivated while condemning your kids to a contestant-style consciousness, chasing chances at the cost of character, decorum, and career.
With the binge-drinking dynamics that determine an undistinguished week defined by drudgery, disappointment, and defeatism – do we dare deny the damage done by these undeserving media darlings? The dunces dream of escaping their damned existence, their lust for distinction inexecutable with such a dire education so they are directed to the equally deplorable examples who are already degrading themselves to eek out every drop of their essence to damn-well ensure they endure alongside the ‘elite’.
As ITV inflicts further primetime pain with faux-celebrity fuckwits flaunting the merits of the mundane, we must cease this cancer of culture before more and more are mired in a misguided muddle to mimic the pitifully pathetic ‘success’ of the celebrity fame-sluts.
Do something good. Shoot a celebrity today.