In another chapter in the story about why we can’t have nice things, cast members of Jersey Shore fist-pumped at the opening of the New York Stock Exchange yesterday.
The New York Stock Exchange has had its opening bell rung by everyone from presidents to charities to star athletes. Even Darth Vader and his posse of storm troopers have done it:
The New York Stock Exchange’s bell is basically pretty slutty, and we all know that, but I think it’s a terrible low that cast members of Jersey Shore were allowed to fondle that hallowed mallet yesterday morning.
I will agree that Snooki, JWOWW, the Situation, et al have managed to make a name for themselves with their unabashed heavy-drinking, fist-pumping, juice-loving, bed-hopping summer bacchanal. Hell, I watched a few episodes myself. They were a good laugh. There is a difference, though, between their sad portrayal of Jersey guidos and guidettes played out on reality television and the New York Stock Exchange’s alignment of their public images as though the Jersey Shore cast members are celebrated human beings that we look to for any reason beyond our weekly rubbernecking at their fumbling and crass carnival of lowbrow debauchery.
Do we really celebrate these people? They are definitely celebrities. They make money for advertisers, and we behave as though we adore them with all the parodies and interviews and magazine articles we lap up, but do we really celebrate them?
If this is how we are choosing to plot our cultural road map, I think that I might just be ready to head in the opposite direction.
. . . . .
Schmutzie is beginning to find this culture porn kind of itchy.
