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The End-Times, They Are A-Changin'...

Enough (for the moment; more Monday) about the SCA.

*insert sound of 300 people clicking the "back" button here.*

As most of you know, I am a big fan of apocalypse movies. I love to watch the end of the world unfold before my eyes; sometimes, I even put the DVD player on slow-mo so I can watch it unfold in glorious frame-by-frame action. Then I reverse, speed it up, and watch it over and over again. Can't get enough of that stuff.

So, I found I was remarkably sanguine when I realized last night that the final trumpet has blown, the horsemen are loose upon the world, and we're all going to hell. For I looked, and I beheld a pale horse,and his name that sat on him was Billy Blanks, and Cardioke followed with him.

Singing karaoke workouts, people. Karaoke. Workouts. People doing crunches while singing Feel The Rain on Your Skin, by Natasha fucking Bedingfield. If this is not a sign of the end times, I don't know what is. Soon, the Rapture will whisk away all the faithful who did not get drunk in bars and torture their friends with off-key renditions of Bohemian Rhapsody, and everyone else will be left to live in a world where Billy Blanks is in charge, and you can't win the Boston Marathon unless you can prove you were singing Cosi Fan Tutte the whole time, because you just had to get up in that bar and sing Margaritaville, even though you know you can't get the tune right.

(That little detail there is only one of the reasons I'm going to hell - except in my case it was Bonnie Tyler's Total Eclipse of the Heart. I suck at karaoke.)

Anyway. At least when the world comes under the sway of the AntiChrist, we won't have to worry about dating anymore, because everyone will be on a Fox Reality Dating show, where you will have to pick the love of your life from ten totally unsuitable men or women (or a mix of both), picked specifically to be as incompatible with your ideals as possible. Forget about E-Harmony or MatchdotCom - the new harsh world of dating ensures your total humiliation up front, rather than six months in when your SO has dinner with your parents for the first time, and microwaves the family dog after consuming all the booze in the liquor cabinet (including the dusty miniature of Sambucca left over from Christmas ten years ago). Isn't that a relief?

Alternatively, you can sign up to be one of the desperate people who will do anything, no matter how foul, to have the chance to get into the pants of an aging rock star. There's always room for one more woman willing to catfight for oral herpes, or one more man who will bare his chest and pee on another man for the love of a chipmunk with 10" false eyelashes.

There'll be no end to the fun as we're forcibly married off to people we hate so that the Prince of Darkness can fulfill his goal of a 100% divorce rate - Dr. Phil and John Gray will counsel you, and Oprah will recommend all the best books you can read to get through this difficult rest of your life.  When you're not being filmed rollerskating around a rink while trying to guide a plastic baby in a stroller (I did not make that one up), or being patched up in the ER after a particularly brutal catfight over who drank the last of the Jaegermeister, Oprah's audience (now populated entirely by rabid prairie dogs) will offer you unconditional support - unless they disagree with you, in which case they will tear you apart limb from limb and feast on your remains.

Hey, at least you'll be dead.  The rest of humanity will be stuck in an endless cycle of repeats and greatest hits shows, except they won't actually be repeats or compilations of previous shows.  Instead, you'll be forced to act out the whole thing over again, and woe betide you if you get the script wrong - they'll make you do that scene where you were so hungover you didn't realize the milk in the fridge was green and fuzzy, and puked all over Gene Simmons* when you were trying to get him to take you into the hot tub.

Over and over and over again.  And they're still using the same carton of milk from the first episode.

You'll be begging for the sweet release of oblivion. Me? I'll be spiking Flava Flav's drink with Valium and humming Total Eclipse of the Heart under my breath.

"Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time..."

*Oh, trust me.  He'll be doing one of those "dating" shows by then.


( 41 brains — Leave a chunk of brain! )
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Mar. 6th, 2008 02:36 pm (UTC)
I'm so glad I don't watch TV. This picture of the world is horrifying! Reminds me of Idiocracy. ::shudder:: You'z a scary woman.
Mar. 6th, 2008 02:38 pm (UTC)
Boo, I say. Boo! :)
(no subject) - femkederoas - Mar. 6th, 2008 02:41 pm (UTC) - Expand
Mar. 6th, 2008 02:47 pm (UTC)
Reality TV is my guilty pleasure. It is just so trainwreckalicious! :p
Mar. 6th, 2008 02:53 pm (UTC)
"Natasha fucking Bedingfield."

Close or distant relation?
Mar. 6th, 2008 02:55 pm (UTC)
Fortunately, neither. I don't know if she's related to the 16th century Bedingfields of Hedenham, but I'd guess not. Most of them died out in the 1800s. :)
Mar. 6th, 2008 02:57 pm (UTC)
You infortuately missed the "best" karaoke ever when we went to plymouth in Jan.

Mar. 6th, 2008 02:58 pm (UTC)
"unfortunately" s'cuse the typo
Mar. 6th, 2008 03:13 pm (UTC)
Actually, Gene Simmons does have a reality show - it's on A&E, called "Family Jewels" or something like that. It's of the see-the-big-star-at-home-with-his-family kind, not the watch-formerly-famous-person-pick-up-ho's kind. And being A&E, it has a little more class than VH1. Only a little more. I did see an episode where his teenaged daughter went to some kind of publicity thing and then her parents were horrified that a bunch of guys wanted to see her tongue.
Great TV. I'm not sure if it was Arts or Entertainment, though.
Mar. 6th, 2008 03:16 pm (UTC)
Yup, I know - I figure once the end of the world comes, he'll be forced to do the dating program instead.

Quite frankly, I don't know how his wife puts up with him now. :)
(no subject) - my_stitching - Mar. 6th, 2008 06:01 pm (UTC) - Expand
Mar. 6th, 2008 03:17 pm (UTC)
As most of you know, I am a big fan of apocalypse movies. I love to watch the end of the world unfold before my eyes; sometimes, I even put the DVD player on slow-mo so I can watch it unfold in glorious frame-by-frame action. Then I reverse, speed it up, and watch it over and over again. Can't get enough of that stuff.

*snicker!* You so sound like my laurel- she loooovves disaster stuff (there was a Pompeii re-enactment special on Discovery a while back- I swear she watched it about 10 times). ;)
Mar. 6th, 2008 03:19 pm (UTC)
...I guess this means I'm doomed then. Not only have I done Karoke a few times...I know all the words to Margaritaville (Salt! Salt! Salt!) and American Pie (and know what it means...but that's just cause I'm a geek) but I've been to Margaritaville (a few times. It's quite nice. Just be careful of the jellyfish. They hurt.)

...but my roommates in college also signed me up to go on the Bachelor one time. Or at least threatened too... I'd kinda like to go on Survivor but I have a feeling I'd be kicked off after I started weaving palm leaves into useable table mats for the bamboo hemp tied Japanese style table I had just made...

Mar. 6th, 2008 10:49 pm (UTC)
so, what's american pie all about?
(no subject) - isabelladangelo - Mar. 7th, 2008 12:10 am (UTC) - Expand
Mar. 6th, 2008 03:25 pm (UTC)
Can I stab my eyes out with a fork now? This made my morning.
Mar. 6th, 2008 03:42 pm (UTC)
Heh. :) Glad to be of service.
(no subject) - greeneyedtengu - Mar. 6th, 2008 03:31 pm (UTC) - Expand
Mar. 6th, 2008 04:14 pm (UTC)
it hurts, it hurts... make it stop....

Mar. 6th, 2008 04:46 pm (UTC)
All I can say is thank god the strike is over, or we might be looking at stuff this bad by summer! (and if they strike again, please delete this post so you don't give the desperate producers any ideas!)
Mar. 6th, 2008 04:57 pm (UTC)
The end of the strike can't save us--the networks started down the train-wreck path before it was over, and once the money is committed, alas, so are our TVs. Just sit back and think of . . . England? :-P

disclaimer: my husband is a screenwriter, though thank God not for TV
(no subject) - albreda - Mar. 6th, 2008 06:55 pm (UTC) - Expand
Mar. 6th, 2008 04:51 pm (UTC)
Last time I did karaoke, I sang Spice Girls "Tell Me What You Want". I embrace the suck!
Mar. 6th, 2008 05:10 pm (UTC)
a ziga zig aah...
(no subject) - albreda - Mar. 6th, 2008 06:58 pm (UTC) - Expand
Mar. 6th, 2008 05:59 pm (UTC)
Oh come on, there is certainly a way to make this SCA relevant....

Let's see, how about a Reality YouTube Video Series entitled "Viking Love Boat." A young, badly dressed viking beauty will be forced to endure intensely bad skaldic verse as ten viking warrior wannabe's enter Crown Tourney to see which one will win the a dream reign for her.

Have a little imagination will ya? *WINK*
Mar. 6th, 2008 06:17 pm (UTC)
Wow. When were you in AnTir?!?!
(no subject) - corbaegirl - Mar. 6th, 2008 06:42 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - mastersantiago - Mar. 6th, 2008 07:01 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - linuxwitch - Mar. 8th, 2008 05:00 am (UTC) - Expand
Mar. 6th, 2008 06:00 pm (UTC)
"Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time..."

Yet another example of my ability to sing songs incorrectly for decades without knowing it, even though the words make no sense!

Your love is like a shadow on the ore of the tide...
Mar. 6th, 2008 06:10 pm (UTC)
The most famous one is from "Blinded By the Light", which a whole lot of people sing as "wrapped up like a douche, another roamer in the night" (which really is exactly what it sounds like!), but is actually "Revved up like a deuce, another roller in the night".

(no subject) - attack_laurel - Mar. 6th, 2008 06:29 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - eggies_red_dres - Mar. 6th, 2008 10:52 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - gottasing - Mar. 7th, 2008 06:50 am (UTC) - Expand
Mar. 6th, 2008 06:26 pm (UTC)
Are you mixing TV with hallucinogens again? Fascinating.
Mar. 6th, 2008 06:28 pm (UTC)
Just narcotics. *innocent whistle*

...when the ad for Cardioke came on, I did think I was hallucniating, but alas, it is all too real. 8)
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( 41 brains — Leave a chunk of brain! )

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