I hesitated writing this column for one reason and one reason only – I didn’t want to draw any more attention to something truly heinous without a single thing to redeem it, yet people can’t seem to get enough and therefore keep feeding it, thereby making it bigger and bigger and bigger – with no end in sight.
Okay, so the obvious joke: There is an end in sight –all the time. Kim Kardashian’s a*s. And that a*s and its omnipresence can only be eclipsed by one thing – her cleavage. Because rare is the photo of her that exists without existing to remind you of the fact that some pretty awesome boobies are attached to that girl’s chest and… “Look! There they are again! You can almost see half of them this time in a brand new bra-top! Holy crap, was that a nipple?! Look!”
Yesterday’s headline in the entertainment section of The Huffington Post: “Kim Kardashian in Dirndl at Oktoberfest.” This was preceded by: “Kim Kardashian Wears Shorts, Eats Ice Cream in Capri,” and the kicker: “Kim Kardashian buys $30,000 Purse”
Yes, it was NEWS that she bought a few purses for hundreds of thousands of dollars. And not in an ironic sense of: “Wow! Look at the absurd and conspicuous materialism that we have all fed into and fueled and enabled because we keep clamoring for more pictures of this one girl’s tits and a*s!” No. It was just another straightforward shot of a very pretty Armenian parakeet entranced at her own reflection in the camera lens. And it was considered news. And yes, apparently she has parlayed all of this press and public attention on her boobies and a*s into millions and millions and still more millions of dollars. And, I know countless women have done that. Jean Harlow, Marilyn Monroe, Jayne Mansfield, Pamela Anderson, etc. Countless. But what is the key difference here? Each of those women could act. Sure, sure – to much varied degrees, but at least there was an emphasis on using their sexual allure to entice you to see their films or TV shows.
Not here. No, this is ogling for ogling’s sake. It’s looking to encourage more looking. I mean, where does the money come from? The E! Channel shows about the family? Appearance fees charged to Vegas and South Beach Clubs that have parties where you can pay to get in and say that you got drunk off your a*s and like, totally saw her hanging out in the VIP section with her breasts? AND you were totally under the same roof and it was awesome?! Splitting syndication fees with the photographers taking the photos? I mean, we are talking a multi-million dollar industry based on nothing tangible at all. No talent. Let me clarify this: When I say “no talent”, I mean there is no talent because there is no attempt to display a talent. Because there is clearly no desire there. What’s more, there is no point to even trying because we as a public – as an audience – aren’t even remotely insisting upon it.
And it has become so pervasive, so overwhelming that now we have let the entire damn family become “celebrity.” Every freakin sister, the mom and step-dad (Bruce Jenner, doing every thing he possibly can to rub any Olympic luster his name still recalls into the pathetic celeb-wanna-based dirt), mom and even a pointless brother. It’s like one-by-one we invited each of them, like a single file procession of soulless, craven self worth-sucking vampires, into our homes. And once in you can never kill them. Even a stake through the heart of their naval gazing E! Network reality TV series hearts will only beget their horrific return in the form of a DVD box set.
How did this plague of sad, hollow humanity in a g-string begin? Well, I’m no historian, but I think it all began with Kim Kardashian hanging out with one of the true pioneers in our modern obsession with audacious attention w****s that would trade on anything it took to keep cameras focused squarely on them ALL THE TIME: Paris Hilton. So, the public began to read about them and other worthless children of celebrities and rich people going to parties and acting like idiots and having more money than anyone else could dream of which allowed them to rinse and repeat the very next weekend if not the very next night.
Meanwhile, the groundbreaking E! Network reality television show, “Filthy Rich: Cattle Drive” put her sister Kourtney on display with other celeb offspring ne’er do wells like Courtenay Semel and Brittny Gastineau. My “completely making up the motivations behind everyone’s actions even though I don’t really know” theory is that Kim saw her sister being shoved in the background on this sad little trollop of a reality show and vowed to never let that happen to her.
Then the sex tape happened. Paris’ sex tape, that is. “And that s**t, blew up, yo’!” That’s what I imagine Ray J (junior middling talented brother to R&B and TV darling Brandy) said to his girlfriend, Kim Kardashian. And then, totally weird coincidence, this sex tape with Kim Kardashian and Ray J surfaces and all tabloid celebrity hell breaks loose.
But the intellectual or discerning taste environment destroying existence of Kim Kardashian is only part of the grossness here. Because this is an entire family of “yuck”. The Kardashian Family franchise, successfully tent-poled (and I’m actually not referring to the sex tape) with Kim’s career then moved into marketing Kourtney and Khloe with their E! spin-off show, “Dumb spoiled rich chicks in Miami” (I’m paraphrasing that title because I don’t feel like googling it.) in which one (Kourtney) gets her hooks into amiable and easy-to-control Los Angeles Laker Lamar Odem while the other one (Khloe) goes the Heidi Montag route and hooks up with (and even gets knocked up) by some sleazy dirt bag character. And I mean character, because seriously – “real”? Not so much. And behind all of this is the mom, Kris Jenner.
And that is where I place the majority of the blame here. The mom. Because she clearly is the one managing her kids’ “careers”. She is the one literally pimping out every single member of her family – and no, not just the daughters (it’s just that there’s apparently been very little traction or interest for the brother, Rob) – for our lusty, sordid pleasures. Because that’s what I feel is driving every little bit of this ridiculous media empire. All of it has its basis on the question of whether you (as the public or audience member or even random picture viewer) would want to have sex with this woman’s kids. So, photo shoots, tabloid flare-ups, controversies, appearances, and A LOT of “teases” – all of it revolves around your interest in “doing it” to a Kardashian.
Why do I think this? What broke the passing interest observer’s back?
Kendall and Kylie Jenner.
Kendall, 14 years old. And, Kylie, 13. They are apparently just ripe enough for Mama Jenner to start trotting out on red carpets glammed and tarted up. How about these headlines (again from The Huffington Post)? “Kardashian Sister Kendall, 14, In NEW Bikini Pics” And, “Kendall Jenner Shows Off Long Legs In New Modeling Pics” Oh boy, we better dust off the Olsen Twin Perv Clocks for some brand new “Countdown to 18” fun and games! Right? Right?! It makes you wonder when they’ll sign that endorsement deal for the new Fischer Price “Kardashian Baby’s First Sex Tape” game.
Because they grow up so fast.