The Ed Shepp Radio Experiment is on hiatus from WFMU's summer schedule, but our erstwhile host stepped out of the lab recently to provide the following update:
It's 900 degrees outside, there's a war on, a tank of gas costs more than a Cambodian baby, and getting adequate fiber from a fast food diet is harder than ever. There's a lot wrong with the world right now, and it takes strength and courage to ignore all that and focus on the glue that holds us together as a nation: vapid talk about famous people. So in the spirit of community, I'm going to yammer on about some famous and not-so-famous people, and whatever else vomits out of my limited mind, and hopefully by the end of this entry, the world (and remember: WE are the world) will be a better persons. Fer sleazlies.
To begin, I spotted That Guy Who's In Everything over the weekend. I was strolling through the West Village, on my way to either that place with the X-rated mints or the vomitorium (Olive Garden) or Hollywood Tan and I saw this guy walking opposite me and thought, "Wow, he really looks like that guy who's in everything." (You know, that guy who was in an episode of House, and in that show on Fox that no one watches. And Office Space. And maybe Sex and the City too. (Obligatory grimace and gag for mentioning that hyperoverubiquitous show.) Then I looked again and was like, "That IS that guy who's in everything!" And then I passed by him and was all like, "I saw that guy who's in everything. Whatever."
I have to say -- it still disappoints me a little that seeing celebrities is so underwhelming. Some of my friends get so excited over seeing famous people that it makes me jealous, and I can't wait until I get to see
one, expecting that I'll have the same amazed reaction they do. And then I get a glimpse of a celebrity (the term being relative) and actually recognize them (which is rare for me -- I don't even recognize people I know half the time), and I feel ...nothing. And I think like I should be excited or something, and I should, I dunno, say something to the exalted being, but eh, I just don't care enough. Cuz I mean really, what would I say to, for example, that guy who's in everything? "Hey, you're that guy who's in everything! I love your work! What's your name? What's it like to be on the set of House -- what's Hugh Laurie like?" First of all, if I were he, I bet I'd be offended if someone addressed me as "that guy who's in everything" and didn't know my name. Secondly, I don't love his work. I'm barely even familiar with it. Thirdly, I can absolutely imagine what it's like to be on the set of House--boring as hell. Probably lots of waiting and doing the same scene over and over and trying not to eat the free donuts. And who cares what Hugh Laurie is like?! He's not like Gregory House; maybe he's really funny, but lots of people are, and it's not like I'm gonna be hanging out with him at 8:30 two Fridays from now in the East Village and need to be sure whether Thai food is completely out of the question because I heard he's allergic to lemongrass. Or anything like that. So yeah. I saw the guy who's in everything, and that's that. Moving on...
Have you ever noticed Aaron Eckhart's chin? Well, go to IMDB and look at his pictures. It's frickin' ENORMOUS!!! It's so enormous, it's enormous. His face looks like a lantern -- it comes out really wide at the jaw and ends in this enourmous chin, which juts out so far, it seems like it should be an seventh continent -- Aaron Eckhart doesn't live in North America, North America lives on Aaron Eckhart's chin. Looking at it is like viewing some 3-D shit -- you sense this gigantic chin zooming in on you, like it's gonna burst through the computer screen and smack you in the face, and maybe suck you into that cleft/dimple/chin butthole in its center. It's almost hypnotic. I wonder if that chin is why he's not considered a heartthrob. Because he's really good-looking, but I've not seen him marketed as a sex bomb, like Brad Pitt, who arguably occupies the space in the culture that Eckhart would if anyone had thought to put Brad Pitt "out of the picture" so many years ago. (Aspiring movie stars with look and mafia connections take note.) Pitt's chin is smaller and rounder, more feminine, which makes me wonder whether a woman's preference for Pitt or Eckhart shifts according to what part of her menstrual cycle she's in. And yeah, I'm commenting on real scientific research there. Then again, Eck's tragic visual flaw could also be his eyes, which look kinda small and beady. Anyway, who cares. (Regardless of grammar, I think that "who cares" should be punctuated with a period, even though it's technically interrogative.)
I will say this, though, about the Ecks -- he looks the same in all his pictures, strikingly so. It's not often that you consciously notice that someone looks identical in every one of his photographs. And I would
venture to say that casting directors like that a lot: "Let's get that Aaron Eckhart fellow. He photographs very consistently; you always know what you're getting. A nice-looking person wrapped around a big-ass chin." Moving on...
I watched my first episode of Blue's Clues today. Is it me, or does the host, "Steve," look like he's performing "under duress"? I found his leaden ersatz enthusiasm to be odd and disturbing, his energy suggesting someone who'd been kidnapped and whose captors were forcing him to put on a children's program. I kept thinking there must be someone off camera aiming a gun at him or something -- his eyes radiate this look of stunned fear, as if he's either trying to just-keep-it-together or he's a little doped up but on what I don't know. (Acid? Oxy? One of those new synthy psychedelics with names like DTM or XBT2?) He also has this incongruously deep voice (as if he's, you know, like 33 or something), and in this respect he's very like Kyle XY, who we're supposed to accept is 16 on the show, but has the voice of a 28-year old baritone on sedatives. Maybe he's doped up too. His weird blue eyes, which are perhaps better described as "orbs," would probably wear the characteristic pin-spot pupils of opiates rather well. (Yes, gnootches. Opiates constrict the pupils, which means that blippy recurring montage in Requiem for a Dream in fact makes no sense, which is actually one of the lesser problems with that film.) Moving on...
I saw Hey Paula recently. YOWZA! Paula Abdul (I call her Babbadoodle) is the epitome of the deluded, narcissistic, cracked out celebrity that we all thought was only an archetype invented for dramatic films and tabloid magazines. I guess the point of the show, for her (if not her handlers, who seem sharp enough to know that a reality show is about as good a career booster as a dumpster baby), is to show that she's a hardworking good person, not some crazy, out-of-it linthead, but to that end, she fails. She comes off as deluded and stuck inside of her own personal la-la land. For example, her "best friends" are on her payroll (her stylists, her publicist, etc.), and she doesn't even treat them very well. In one scene, she's going all diva on them because they didn't have her limo ready to chauffeur her to the airport after the Grammys, when it seemed that they actually were ready, but Babbadoodle couldn't be found, possibly because she was stammering around in a drunken fog. In another scene, her stylist is doing her hair and a snafu comes up with some movie people; she starts pontificating about how she's "a warrior." And you get the sense she believes her own crap. I wonder whether she connects a pipe from her ass to her face and masturbates while inhaling her own farts too. But the really illustrative part of the show is when she has her big scandal where she looks all cracked out doing interviews for American Idol and claims her behavior was due to "lack of sleep."
Beeyotch, please. I've gone days without sleep, I've had insomnia, and I've never behaved like that. Of course my experience isn't representative of everyone's, but I've never heard of anyone acting so bizarrely from simple sleeplessness (or what thesaurus.com calls "brain fag".) Think about it: What would you expect from someone who hasn't slept in days? Well, first of all, wouldn't you think she'd be, I dunno, irritable??? Not giddy?? I imagine if you go into any acting class in the country and say to the students, "Show me someone who hasn't slept in days," what you'll see will be pretty similar across the board, and it won't look like Babbadoodle's display in those interviews. That's the main reason everyone assumes she was drunk or on drugs: because that's what it looked like -- intoxication, not fatigue. Wouldn't there be a bit more dignity in, rather than protesting-too-much about "insomnia," just saying, "Yeah, I was drunk. So what"? Or in not addressing it at all?
Well, maybe there would, but you see in a later scene why she doesn't do that. She's worried about her cash cow. She goes on this victim rant about all the bad press she's getting (Isn't that an occupational hazard in show business? What's she so "shocked and appalled" about?), saying that she's "not going to take it anymore" and she's NOT going to lose jobs and NOT going to lose endorsements and blah blah blah blah blah.... And you can tell that her handlers don't quite buy the whole "I couldn't sleep" bit, but like
all good courtiers, they're keeping nice and quiet. I suppose one thing you can say for Babbadoodle is that at least she didn't go into "rehab," which seems to be the thing to do this year, burning through Hollywood faster than double-strength anal bleaching cream. I expect that at the best parties in the Hamptons this summer there will be a lot of chatter along the lines of, "Oh my dear, you haven't been to rehab yet? You simply must go!"
And that's the vapid famous people beep for now. Don't you feel more communicable already?