What November 29th-30th Mean To Me: Walking Dead, I Still Hate You

To say I've been a little critical of AMC's hit show, "The Walking Dead," is like saying Grover Norquist is a little critical of taxes.  In fact, you could compare me to one of those relentless zombies desperately trying to take a bite out of its success so that it, too, will die. PLEASE DIE!!! (I don't know why I keep watching this show, I don't really like it, but it's not the first crap show I couldn't turn away from).  But I have to admit I enjoyed the big barn shootout/blood bath that closed the fall season.  Until...that is I realized we just spent the last 6 episodes doing absolutely nothing.  Seriously, nothing...except watch Glenn get laid.  So, because I'm an asshole, I, of course, feel the need to engage in one of my more annoying habits...nitpicking!
Let's roll, shall we?

EIGHT THINGS I HATED ABOUT WALKING DEAD SEASON 2:

1) Sofia -  Ahhh, Sofia, you elusive little bitch.  I'd give a description of your character, except I really don't know the first thing about you.  I do know that you somehow got lost, and we spent the last six million episodes trying to find you in the woods.  Only to discover that you were a "walker" in Herschel's barn the entire time.  Now, maybe it's because I'm a tard, but when you walked out of the barn, your big reveal (your emmy moment!), I had no clue who you were.  Seriously, it took a good 30 seconds before I was like ... "who is ... oh wait, is that Sofia...wait is it?  Will someone say her name already so I know?"  But this shouldn't come as a shock, it took me a season and a half to learn the characters names in the first place.

Anyway...this leads us to...

2) Hey Herschel...you could have saved us some time if you told us you had a little girl in the barn.

Sure, technically Herschel had never met Sofia, But he knew the group was desperately searching for a young girl and, I dunno, maybe he (I actually thought Herschel's name was Horace for a good 3 eps) could have mentioned they just found a young walker and put her in the barn?  Which makes Herschel a real dick.


Well, Rick, if I a told you she was in the barn, what would the audience have done for six weeks? Watch us play Canasta?

Anyway, Sofia never had any relevance to the show to begin with, so now I guess Producers and Writers will have to come up with some other bullshit to kill time. (Also, within a week, Sofia's mother didn't even seem to care about her disappearance.  She was cooking, doing laundry, telling Daryl not to go find her.  If she doesn't care, I don't care).  I have an idea for good character development. Maybe next time someone loses a child, make the character care?...which leads me to...

3) Carl - We should actually just watch an entire show about Carl.  A show where doctors poke and prod him in an attempt to figure out his healing powers.  The Walking Dead is very poor at creating a timeline, but it appears young Carl fully recovered from a near fatal gunshot wound to the stomach in  about a week.  A WEEK.

If I was shot in the stomach and almost died, I'd be recovering and bitching for the rest of my life. But young Carl, within a week, was wearing his Dad's sheriff's hat, learned the word "shit," and started ordering the adults around.  But none of this was as annoying as how Carl got shot in the first place...

4) The Deer - Want to see smoke come from my ears?  Tell me you loved the Deer plot device.  Please, do it. Tempt me!  For those who don't remember, the reason Carl was shot is because he was admiring a fucking deer, like it was a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, just as some fat hick shot the deer from the other side.  When Carl woke up from his coma, the first thing he mentioned was how beautiful this dumb deer was.  OK, a few problems.  1) It's a deer.  2) Yes, Walking Dead is a post apocolyptic story, but its not like The Road where the kid never saw anything but destruction for his entire life.  From what we can tell, the zombie invasion in The Walking Dead is, tops, two months old, so Carl had YEARS to appreciate life.  In fact, he probably had a dog!  Maybe 2!  At least a hamster.  Point being, there's no reason he should be enamored by a deer and telling me how beautiful it is.  ITS A DEER!   I HATE YOU, CARL, AND I HATE PEOPLE WHO WERE MOVED BY THIS.

OK...exhale...

5) Dale's Hat -  We viewers were given a very special treat this week.  Dale took off his hat.  For whatever reason, maybe it was his bald spot, I instantly felt more sorry for Dale, causing his character to be tons more sympathetic.  If I can give one note to the production team...let a zombie eat Dale's hat next season. If you're concerned about skin cancer, I'm sure we can send Glenn to the drug store to find some sunblock for the noggin...

perfect segue!

6) Glenn and Maggie - Glenn got laid!  WOOOO!  Simply by being the only person of his age in the group.  Which gives me a GREAT idea on how to get women.

1) Hope for a worldwide plague that turns 99 percent of the population into Walking Zombies

2) Team up with a group of people where I am the ONLY guy in his late 20's-early 30's

3) Find a remote farm inhabited by a semi kind family and, more importantly, a hot girl in the same age range.
4) Find this:



5) Patiently wait a couple of days until she becomes desperate enough to sleep with me.  Well done, Glenn, I suppose.

Moving on!

7) Back To Dale...Why Were You Hiding The Guns!

Dale doesn't trust Shane.  For good reason, Shane's an asshole.  Somehow, Dale figured out all Shane's dark secrets by...I dunno, just figuring them out.  Dale is convinced Shane will do something irresponsible, so he takes a few excess guns out to the woods to hide them.  Why?  I have no clue, there's still an entire arsenal at Shane's disposal, I don't see what hiding a few guns would do.  Also, ya know, they live in a world where tons of flesh eating zombies exist, so it might be good to have the guns on hand.  Hmmm, maybe all Dale's intelligence flew out of his head after he took off the hat.  Hmmm, I'm willing to chance it if you are. 

8) The Love Triangle Didn't Work The First Time....So Let's Try It Again!

Season One featured a very lame attempt at a love triangle between Rick, Shane, and Lori.  Lori is married to Rick, she thought Rick was dead, started sleeping with Shane, Rick came back.  Boring.  Now, Lori is pregnant!  Is it Rick's?  Is it Shane's?  Who gives a shit.  I hope the baby comes out looking like the Khaleesi's still born child. 

Oh, not quick enough

Sadly, I'm sure I'll watch the spring season because... what else do I have to do?  Well, at least I'll have more to complain about. 

What November 24th-28th Means To Me: Romance and the Long Distance Relationship

Thanksgiving is now officially behind us, catapulting American society into the surreality otherwise known as December.  Christmas decorations are up, people be shoppin', and everyone has their eye towards some sort of vacation.  (on a side note: I heard on NPR this morning that today is the busiest travel day of the year.  I always figured people traveled the Monday after Thanksgiving to beat the Sunday return rush.  Could it be that everyone has tried this tactic and, therefore, Monday is now a busier travel day?)

Anyway, speaking of romance, I finally saw the movie "Like Crazy" this weekend (hardly a shock to those who know me) which is essentially an indie movie about a long distance relationship featuring a young couple fighting as hard as they can to 1) make it work and 2) end the "long distance" part of it (if you're dying to see this movie, STOP READING NOW...MINOR SPOILERS!).  Of course, I enjoyed the movie (though my friend hated it), but I loved it because 1) I always wanted to be in a long distance relationship and 2) it touched on the exact thing I'm scared of.

The idea of the long distance relationship seems appealing to me because of the built-in "ticking clock" mechanism.  When your time spent together always has a limit, my guess is you're not wasting it on the mundane, simply because time actually spent together consistently feels limited and, therefore, fresh. You can consistently have that "OMG, I can't believe we only have 2 days left" conversation and, therefore, are forced to always make the best of it because you never actually see beyond that limited time. The characters in the movie were engaged in a relationship that spanned years, and the common theme behind all their encounters was the fight to permenantly be in the same place.  It was an all encompassing battle that gave the two a common goal, an us-against-them mentality.  And, lets face it, sometimes humans just want to win, to acheive their goals, and often lose sight of the overall benefit. 

Once the characters finally did reach this collective goal, it immediately removed the main romantic thread that was holding it together in the first place.  Now that the clock stopped ticking, they entered an "OK, now what?" kind of moment.   And this is, more or less, what I know will probably happen should I ever find myself in one.  It's easy to live in a fantasy, after all, since long distance couples generally just see each other during vacations (and who ever hates vacation!).  But once hard reality sets in and there's actually a future on the horizon, the game changes and, with it, everything you knew about said relationship.

Not saying this is true for all long distance relationships, clearly many work, I just figure it would be an issue for my hypothetical one. 

What November 16th-23rd Means To Me: Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is, without question, my favorite holiday on the calendar.  But before I get into that, one of the pleasures of blogging is noticing how random people come across your blog.  On blogspot, they allow you to view what google searches lead a viewer to your posts.  I should probably do an entire post just based on this because they are often hilarious, but here are a few from today:

1) "Kim Kardashian's Fartbox"  -  Yes, at your service, Mr. Fartbox locater.  Or Miss.  I just have to question what this person was looking for.  If he was in search of pics of Kim's plump bottom, why not just google "Kim Kardashian's ass"?  Was he trying to make himself laugh?  Was he looking for Kim jokes?  What a mystery.  Either way, I'm sure he was disappointed when my post on Kim didn't even include a picture, but thanks for the click anyway, and I hope you found what you're looking for. 

2) "NFL Cheerleaders Short Skirts I Want" -



The more I think about this google search, the more perplexed I become.  I can understand why he'd want to look for NFL cheerleaders in short skirts, though I must admit it seems tame by today's standards (after all, 2 girls/1 cup does exist), but it's the "I WANT" that I don't quite understand.  Did he think that by demanding the NFL cheerleader in his Google search, he would be provided a link where he could order one?  Like some special unknown section of Amazon?  www.amazon.com/whoresforsale?  (don't click that).  Google ain't that good, son.  Either way, I hope I have another satisfied customer. 

3) "Bachmann Asshole" - I actually get this one a lot due to a post a few months ago where I called Michele Bachmann an asshole.  Thank you, America.  You're quickly restoring my faith.  And, yes, she's still an asshole. 

Anyway, back to the point of the post, and speaking of America, Thanksgiving! 

I can't say "Thanksgiving" without thinking of the above.  But, really, for a social retard like me, what's better than Thanksgiving?  It's a holiday that involves essentially zero social expectation, and in fact, probably promotes being a slob.  You get together with family and friends, gorge, and then sit around complaining that you're full, how you can't move, and how you're tired (I love complaining about being tired, and here's an entire holiday where I can do so!  Brilliant!).  There's no going out, there's no costume, there's no staying up late, there's no need for a date, there's no pressure for a kiss at midnight, nothing.  It's perfect!  You eat bird, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes (yum), lots of pie, followed by a whole lot of smiling.  Oh, and you can watch football all day.  My fucking God, what a holiday.  Every other holiday should pray to Thanksgiving and ask how it, too, can be so cool. 

Anyway, hope everyone enjoys it, is safe, has a good time with family and friends...and keep those google searches comin!

Happy Thanksgiving!

What November 11th-15th Means To Me: The Color Red

A friend of mine recently applied for a job where they asked her the following question:

"How would you describe the color red to a blind person?"

I'm known to locate certain things from time to time.

Whoops, wrong red. 



There we go.


I thought about this for a good 5 seconds before ...

I even grew the extra chins and all. To avoid a serious headache, I went back to twiddling my thumbs, playing circus music in my head,  and arguing about the fate of the Denver Broncos and Tim Tebow on my Broncos message board, and subsequently got way too frustrated about that because, you know...

Anyway, when I calmed down and revisited the question, I realized that the color red immediately conjured feelings of alarm and violence.  Red is ubiquitious in our society and is used to express numerous emotions and feelings.  After all, come February 14th, red represents love, comfort, and companionship.  In fact, any depiction of a heart is generally in red, and if a heart is drawn in any other color, it generally elicits a visceral reaction that suggests something is dark and wrong.  Red is also the color of blood, which is associated with lifeforce and being alive.  Simply put, Red can be a very positive color. 

But when I think of red, none of it is warm.  I see anger, violence, and bleeding.  In fact, just picturing the color is causing me to clench my fists right now.  And this would be my starting point when describing the color red to a blind person, but I have to wonder what this says about me. 

Then again, Red is generally the color used when portraying Satan and his minions...so perhaps it has negative connotation to many. 

How do you see the color red? 
 

What November 10th Means To Me: More Blogging!

In yesterday's post, I mentioned a blog post I'd written about Pisa and porn for worldwinder.com .  OK, it really has zero to do with porn, I just used porn as part of an analogy. 

Anyway, enjoy it!

http://www.worldwinder.com/2011/11/10/notes-from-a-sometimes-judgmental-tourist-the-annoying-supporters-of-pisa/

What November 8th and 9th Mean To Me: For the sake of my writing career, I think I need a kid

As someone who loves the process of writing, even writing texts and emails, I'm always concerned with the health of my craft, and am obviously attempting to grow as a writer beyond cheap one-liners and shallow observations.  Of course, there is value in such things, but it's just not the kind of writer I see myself as. Which leads me to the following note I just received from an editor of a blog:

The tone of your piece is fine.  We are just going to change the word porn to x-rated movies.

In context, it makes perfect sense and, for the record, I agree with the decision.  But just seeing that one line caused me to ponder both my subject matter and how I go about handling it.  After all, the line in question was not used in an expose about porn addiction on the Internet, it's for an article about visiting Pisa.

Finding inspiration for stories does not come easy for me, at all.  I envy friends who are writing ten screenplays at once, featuring ten ideas that are all better than anything I can come up with.  Even if they never finish one of them, I still admire the way they can conjure up storylines as simply as they could a sneeze in a dusty room.  I don't think I'm a bad writer, or even a lazy one that refuses to brainstorm, I just feel certain people are better at certain aspects, and actual story creation isn't something that comes easily to me.  Generally it takes a life altering moment to inspire a story idea, and even then I have to count on the muses to see me through.  This is probably why I would force my theoretical wife to name our first born Calliope...perhaps I'm selfish in more ways than I can count.  That said, any writer will tell you that great stories come from trying life experiences, and though I've had some quirky experiences lately that could lead to interesting material, I do feel rather boring and unchallenged.  I'm always searching for something a little dangerous or out of the ordinary that would inspire some good writing.  Now, I could partake in drug trading or espionage, but this is not the world for a 32 year old Jew with a fairly normal upbringing so...

ENTER CHILD

Those who know me best also know I'm overly nostalgic.  I compartmentalize my past, polish it up, and conjure memories as if they were actually meaningful.  For those who have read my book, I'm stating the obvious, as it's littered with shiny memories of moments that were considered dull as they were happening.  And recently I've been reading a lot of stories about sports and children (the Penn State scandal aside), but more specifically about fathers taking their children to sporting events, and witnessing the seemingly mundane with new color through their children's eyes.  Whether they know it or not, they are living vicariously through their children, trying to capture moments of innocence that have long past them.  I'm always affected by the pieces, even if they are a little melodramatic, because of their honesty and love.

And that sounds good to me!

Brett, you fool

My perception of children has changed much over the years.  In my early 20's, the thought of having one was tantamount to a prison sentence.  I think I referred to fetuses as parasites (OK, maybe I still do), and I was simply terrified that a child would enter my life and affect career goals or whatever.  I'd have sex and then be scared over the course of the next month of the surely impending phone call informing me I was going to be a father, despite the fact that I was extra careful in the act.  But over time, I've noticed that my fears have changed.  As I've grown and matured (don't laugh, assholes), I became less afraid of the child, as I think I have the emotional and mental wherewithal to actually keep one alive, and more afraid of who I'd have the child with.  So, after the aforementioned relations, I, of course, feared the phone call...but not because I'd possibly have to care for a child, I just didn't want some person I didn't feel incredibly strongly about in my life forever.  It is weird how that works, there is no real practical use for children, we seem to have them to solely fix an emotional need.  I don't know that I'm there yet, but at least I understand it now.

But, importantly, back to my writing :).  I personally think my writing is best when it dances on the border of humor and melodrama, and I do truly think that writing pieces about my life view through a child would produce some great observations, and more importantly, plenty of them. I've always worn my emotions on my sleeve, and I feel like I'm pretty good at expressing them in written word, I just have a feeling a story about the birth of my child could be compelling, and of course, easily relatable.  Or the time I take said child to Disneyland for the first time.  Or his or her first football game. Or first day of school.

Yes, I might become one of those assholes who talks about their kids too much but, knowing me, it would probably seem half nostalgic and half humorous (like Louis CK!).  I have no issue making fun of children because of their naivete and innocence, and I have enough trouble with my own problems, so I sincerely doubt I'd think my child was anything extraordinary, which is fine, most people aren't and that doesn't make them meaningless. 

So, for the sake of my writing career, I probably have to trick some poor woman into 1) having sex with me 2) falling in love with me and 3) producing offspring. 

But isn't it worth it for one or two interesting stories? 

You will rue the day!

Hmmm...maybe I should just stick to stories about love in foreign countries.  Anyone want to pay me to travel and write?? :D

What November 4th-7th Means To Me: 10 Random Thoughts

Don't really have a ton to talk about since there isn't a whole lot going on...but some random thoughts from the weekend:

1) A Hat Really Makes A Difference. 

It was cold in LA this weekend.  Yep, at night it was like 50.  That's not cold?  To me, it's cold, so bite me.  Anyway, I channeled my inner George Costanza and wore a fairly sizable and insulated beanie.  And what a world of difference this made.  I actually stood outside at a birthday party on Saturday night and felt quite comfortable.  Well, eventually my feet started to go a tad numb, but baby steps.  Beanies > complaining.

2) Is That Jonah Hill or Just Someone Who Looks Like Jonah Hill? 

There's a commercial for Call Of Duty that features, what appears to be, a thin Jonah Hill.  Is this him or just someone who looks an awful lot like him?  I was sitting there on Sunday trying to decipher if I recongized his voice or not.  Then I just decided not to care, but apparently, suddenly I care again.  He's one of those actors that, to me, is much funnier fat.  In fact, it's disorienting watching him thin.  I need to see his 5th chin wobble while he delivers his lines for me to laugh. 

3) I actually got a snail mail letter this weekend...and it was a jigsaw puzzle. 

Literally.  I've never received one of these before, so I don't know if it's common or popular, but since I'm dense, it took me way too long to put together the puzzle which was the size of a postcard.  Now, the person who sent it loves to give me a hard time and I can imagine her laughing as she put the pieces into the envelope, but I must say I loved it.  It felt like a challenge, like I had to work for the correspondence.  If I ever send a snail mail personal letter again, I think I'll make it a jigsaw puzzle as well.  Perhaps a 5000 piece one though.  A nice bright spot to an otherwise dull Saturday.  ThanksK!

4) A Broncos Victory

It's amazing how elevated my mood gets when the Broncos win.  Thank you Tim, Willis, Eddie, Von, Champ and the others.  We can smile for another Sunday.  Joshie, if you're reading this, the thought of you being pissed off made it even more enjoyable for me.  It's been too long since we beat the Raiders.

5) How To Make It In America

HBO's "new Entourage" is now in it's second season and has officially reached "shows I could watch for 52 straight weeks, never get too emotionally invested in, but I enjoy it anyway, I suppose" status.  For those who don't know, it's about two 20-somethings who are on the verge of success in the fashion industry.  It does for New York what Entourage did for LA:  in case you forgot it has a sexy side, the show reintroduces you to it.  There's nothing all that special about it, but it makes me miss New York.  I suppose, in this respect, its a male Sex And The City. 

6) How Much Popcorn Can Brett Eat In A Weekend?

Alot.

7) I've now graduated to the Venti.

For years, I only ordered the tall.  Then, for a couple of years, I started ordering the grande.  Now, 8 times out of ten, I'm drinking the Venti.  I'm not sure where it goes from here.  Perhaps I'll just start bringing a bucket and ask them to charge me based on the weight.  I don't love the taste of coffee, but I find it to be one of the more comforting things in life.  It's my Linus blanket.  I wish I could drink it all day long. 

8)  I Must Always Look Like A Slob

I'm not sure why people always look surprised if I wear a sport coat, but it usually garners a "wow, Brett, you look dressed up!" comment even though I'm still wearing jeans.  I often wear t-shirts, but do wear a number of button downs, but they are probably wrinkled more often than not.  Either way, I take the compliments as backhanded.  But I can deal with dressing messy, I hope I just don't smell. 

9) I Think My Apartment Is Finally Clean After A Nordic Tornado Passed Through.

But whoever told me hardwood was difficult to keep clean was completely right.  Staying on top of the dust has been a chore and, everytime I think the floor is clean, I realize it's not.  But I suppose it's good enough for now and, I'm too tired to really care or stay on it 100 percent of the time.

10)  You guys buy my book yet? 

You should!  Reviews have been good, the public seems to be enjoying it, it's selling in bookstores now, and I'm just hoping it keeps growing.  Here's an amazon link though you can buy it at any online retailer.  Please support!  woo!

What November 3rd Means To Me: My Height

Here was an IM conversation between my friend and I from yesterday.  And this is typical:

Friend: 55
Me: What?
Friend: Oh, sorry, wrong IM
Me: Oh, I figured you were saying you were 55 lbs more than me.  Oh wait, that's way too low.
Friend: No, I've just had sex 55 more times than you.  Oh wait, that's way too low.
Me: haha ass
Friend: haha dickhead

Perhaps I'm just looking for an excuse to post our daily conversations, but for whatever reason, the above got me thinking about being taller, even though said friend is actually about three inches shorter than I am, rendering any comparative study between his getting laid and being tall completely moot.  But I've long wondered how my life would be different if I were 6'3.

That's right, me and Skee-lo have the same wish.  To be taller.  But I really don't want to make this post into an all out whine-fest about being short and, instead, want to pose a question regarding personal appearance and how others perceive you. 

A friend and I were having lunch the other day and she was complaining about how none of the men in her life are tall, and that she doesn't feel "protected" around them, as if we lived in a world where we are constantly in danger of attack.  But her sentiments are shared by many, as I often hear women claim they would like to date a taller guy, and if the girl happens to be tall, the thought of dating a shorter guy is often out of the question. And, of course, this thought reaches beyond the dating world, as many executives believe that being taller actually commands respect.  And, let's face it, it does.  I've lived in this world long enough to see that taller people are often treated as if they are more powerful simply because of their physical stature.  In fact, I'm sure I do it on a sub-conscious level too.  Actually, I know I do, and I'm short!

Whether justified or not, I do often believe I'm taken less seriously because of my height (5'8) and general smaller stature (I'm only 140 lbs, even though my body is similar to that of a super lightweight boxer).  I don't have any real evidence that suggests my stature hinders me when being considered by others, but I do get the feeling that I'm dismissed as "unprotective" or "non-sexual" because I don't have that traditional appearance that suggests power and authority.  I feel like I often have to talk my way into commanding respect instead of just getting it, hoping I can find other attributes to win over a person's affections (though this rarely works either, I must say...though this can probably be chalked up to my general indecisivness, lack of self-esteem, and fear of pissing people off.  Oh, pobrecito!  Things to work on!)

Though I cannot help my height and have no first hand experience to see if height would improve my career and dating record, I have noticed that I've been treated differently since I've gotten tattoos that show and buzzed my hair off.  I don't know what image it gives off (though one of my old bosses recently told me, on a day I forgot to shave, that I looked like I just stepped out of prison), but people do not try to verbally push me around as much as they used to. And, also, people who do not know me often engage in a more slang-y type of conversation that could be perceived as "street" or something that would suggest "youthfulness."  It's actually been an interesting sociological experiment, perhaps people assume I'm "tougher" because of the age old stereotypes that come along with tattoos and buzzed hair.  I have them all fooled.

So, honestly, how do others perceive taller people? Is it something you notice? Or perhaps I'm just looking for excuses as to why I never date anymore? :)  And, of course, my life could also be worse if I suddenly was 6'3 (beyond the fact I wouldn't have a wardrobe that fits), I just tend to doubt it.  I actually wish I spent more time thinking about this subject, and perhaps I'll write about it more another day.  But, until then, I'll just continue to wish that I was taller. 

What November 2nd Means To Me: Nothing!

Actually, I could wax poetically about past election days or something, but I'd rather not bore you with my feelings on the political process today.

Instead, I'll link you to a post I wrote for the very awesome travel blog worldwinder.com about a very eccentric tour guide I met in Prague.  A tour guide who reminded me a bit too much of Borat. 

Hope you enjoy!

http://www.worldwinder.com/2011/11/02/what-happens-when-the-tour-guide-is-more-interesting-than-the-actual-tour/

And now I'll go get some more shitty coffee that advertises itself as "the roast of the town" 

What November 1st Means To Me: Kim Kardashian and Divorce

I’ve taken interest in the Kardashian divorce because my friend recently subjected me to numerous episodes and, of course, the two-part wedding special that set new bars for both garishness and gaudiness.  Molly Lambert wrote a piece for Grantland about the Kardashian phenomenon that I mostly agree with.  She states, essentially, that the Kardashian brand is more important than Kim’s actual lifestyle and, due to her mother’s reign of terror over her daughters’ lives, that the actual marriage to Kris was a sham, and that the whole thing might have been predetermined.

I agree that the health of the Kardashian brand has trumped Kim’s own happiness, but I’m not sure Kim actually knows the difference.   Her rise to fame has definitely been fabricated.  Though I’m not sure what her life was like as a child, her mother was exposed to scant amounts of celebrity through her ex-husband who was a famous trial lawyer, and she clearly liked the taste.  While it’s hard to comment on the friendship between Kim and Paris Hilton (which is how Kim burst on the scene), one would have to think that someone with fame whoring tendencies spent time with someone like Paris for publicity purposes (even if the Kardashian brand wasn’t even a thought in her mind at the time.)  Point being, Kim likes attention.  Kim needs attention.  Kim ties her self-worth due to the amount of attention she gets. 

But what Kim doesn’t realize is that the caricature, sex symbol Kim Kardashian has just become…Kim Kardashian.  If this were a set-up, some ploy for E! ratings (and it would have worked simply as that), then there’s no doubt in my mind Kim and Kris would ride this out longer than 72 days.  After all, going through all the pains of dating, engagements, and wedding planning seems like more of a chore than pretending to stay together for the sake of publicity and milking your new Kardashian E! show about living in New York.   If the divorce was a publicity stunt, it’s a bad one because it plays directly into what most people thought anyway:  that the wedding was a sham and they’d be divorced in a year.  The fact that Kim divorced the “love of her life” in a mere 72 days solidifies her “love” as a joke and, therefore, her brand becomes less trustworthy.  While many laugh and point at Kim, there is a significant portion of her fan base that actually doesn’t, and this latest act has to damage her brand among these supporters who actually saw her as responsible and “human”.  And, believe me, Kris Kardashian, Jenner, whatever, the shrewd shrew she is, I’m sure is aware of this.  What would have shocked the masses and bucked the trend?  A happy marriage with kids.  If Kim was THAT conscious about her brand, she could have transitioned her career to the next stage: married/momma Kim. A Kim that promotes maternity clothing lines and parenting tips.  She could have used this to become a more “responsible” person in the public eye; this is something Madonna would have done had she been in Kim’s position.  It would have opened her up to an entire new audience that once thought she was a joke and simply a sex symbol.  But that didn’t happen. 

Which means only one thing: Kim actually thought it was for real, and that her life has actually become the fantasy that is portrayed on television.  She actually thought her “love” for an uninteresting, decent NBA player was something for the ages, which then opens up questions as to how deep her myopic vision of her own life is, and also what her deep seeded priorities actually are.  It appears someone like Kim (and seeing how she was raised, this is hardly a shock), is much more in love with herself than she is with anything else in this world, and this view has been validated by TV ratings and an audience that only sees her in edited snapshots that have become her reality.  She televised her wedding, not as a symbol of love to her husband (who is a replaceable part) and not as a conscious effort to promote the Kardashian brand for financial purposes.  It was just another snapshot of life to satisfy her own self-worth.  The seed was planted long ago and now it’s a fully functioning tree that bears forbidden fruit whether she knows it or not.  What this 72 day divorce shows is that she’s not the shrewd business woman everyone thought she might be.  She’s a lost soul that has been taught that notoriety, by any means necessary, equals value.  So, she will go on, fully expecting to always fall in the safety net otherwise known as fan support.  Except, one day, when she ages, her looks go, and the public finds another hot celebrity to become obsessed with, she will be left with nothing but these snapshots that she will no doubt try anything to re-acquire.  I hope, for her sake, she doesn’t become Norma Desmond, though if she does, I’m sure she wouldn’t even realize it.