Enquiring Aliens want to know....

Main-stream television news stinks.
The talking heads that deliver it make me want to shudder all the more.
And then what is even worse than that?
The typical stories reported about the latest weeknight antics of
the hottest no-talent-pop-tart as though they were reporting on
actual peace talks in the Middle East.
How did main stream media become The National Enquirer?
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I do not give a tiny-rats-heiny about
frolicsome stories like; which reality star cheated on what other fame trollop.
And why in the world would I care who is gay or straight,
or entering or leaving weekly Rehab?
while the reporter, who is earnestly reporting these vacuous stories
gazes gravely into the camera as though
reporting about Lady Ga-Ga’s meat-dress is
somehow on par with sharing with us a possible cure for cancer,
the ultimate fate of the Social Security System, or
even, say, a fireman saving a kitten from a tree…
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So, I decided to get my news online instead.
I figured I could pick and choose
in a manner that would actually contribute to my mental health.
But sadly, I think it’s too late, I seem to have been taken over by the Aliens
that the National Enquirer always said were coming.
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They force me to read useless drivel that I care nothing about.
I think my being let loose to roam online is worse than news networks…
Oh sure, I may have rid myself of the sickeningly
earnest-faced television reporter,
but now I must read copy that I feel sure was written whilst the writer was
simultaneously performing the vital task of either; playing with his I-Pad,
or trimming his toenails, and possibly even all three at once!
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The Aliens also force me to click on the articles about;
“which starlet wore their identical outfits better.”
I don’t know why I do this…I truly do not care, and yet I am compelled.
It’s like a car wreck….I gotta look…
even though I am old now and do not know
who over 90% of them are…
Yet, shamefully, I actually find myself taking the time to earnestly critique
their accessories in making my final judgment,
 as though world peace hung in the balance!
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It HAS to be the Enquiring Aliens…because if it is not, then what?
I could make the Wall Street Journal my home page
 if I even just cared a leetle bit more.
Of course once one decides to get their news from
 an agency called ‘Yahoo’ it is pretty much saying;
“I just don’t have the will to care anymore, and I like it….”
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Just a few short years ago; Googling, Yahooing or
admitting that you seriously received “hotmail”
would have made you look the fool you are.
Now, if you cannot juggle all three simultaneously on your
 IPad, IPhone or Smart Phone, whilst tweeting and texting,
then you just do not deserve to know what is possibly in-store for
 the new season of The Bachelor, or what Snookie is up to!
God help me, I know who Snookie is.
Don’t judge me! I do not watch the show, but she is everywhere, from the Jersey Shores to the Gulf Stream waters…
little stocky, furry uggs, daisy duke shorts wearing, and tan-in-a-can blazing like a bright beacon to the vacuousness that is creeping over everything  we think, do or read.
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The National Enquirer Aliens have taken over. We walk about with invisible,
temporal face-huggers stuck to our frontal lobes,
they ride us happily as they lap up their primary food source,
which is:
complete ignorance of the intricacies of world-issues and global,social chaos.
It is deliciousness to them. They are cultural vampires,
bleeding us dry of the will to care about the budget or if global warming
is real, or just some colossal joke.
And do these Aliens get dessert?
Oh yes! That happens when we believe everything
that the mainstream ‘media’ feeds us. Yummy!
Fat, happy, happy Aliens….
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Oh well, I read where when all else fails, there is always tofu and Sudoku…
In their own way, they’re each supposed to keep the Alzheimer’s away.
May be they chase the National Enquirer Aliens away too!
Sounds like a plan, as long as we remember that;
living longer, or even just being able to easily
locate our keys does not necessarily mean living smarter.
But then again, Enquiring minds want to know… Tonya Willman ©2011