Dear Celebs: Part Does It Really Matter at This Point
We’re going back to the well, but in my defense, it has been a while since I had to resort to this.
Dear the Situation,
You’re making five million in the next two years? That’s not right. It’s just not. You’re going to have to give it back. People should be paid for working hard to contribute to society or displaying a talent people want to see.
You could easily be replaced by a Calvin Klein ad pasted to a planter and a dog that has not been neutered.
I know that this is largely not your fault. You were just duding it out, about to sign up for unemployment, saw a flyer for auditions to be on a MTV show, and thought you could kill an afternoon doing that. This is not wrong of you. Then it took off, and America fucking bought in, and again, not your fault. I don’t know what it is, or why it is, but your show is insanely popular largely due to America’s high consumption rate of utter garbage.
Yes, even the people who think they’re watching it ‘ironically.’ I watch Spartacus: Blood and Sand and Deadliest Warrior religiously, but I don’t try to defend it. It’s cultural junk food, and I owe up to that, however, all those shows involve people doing stuff. Stunt men working to create fight scenes; writers are churning out dialogue; the science guys are zip tying science crap to broad swords’ the props people are filling gel torsos with fake guts and blood. Work is being done.
You are being paid 5 million dollars to do what you’d be doing even if the camera’s weren’t around. This is not a talent, and it’s not an anthropological study; the bug farmers in the jungles of New Guinea still farm bugs, there’s just video proof of it now.
Now I don’t want to ruin you, or see you broke. You seem like a genuine guy, but that guy just happens to be a meathead. So, you, me, and an accountant are going sit down, and figure out something that’s fair, because this five million shit? That dog just won’t hunt.
We absolutely need to stop helmet to helmet collisions. There’s just no two ways about it. There’s no ‘right’ way to do it, and there are roughly ten million things that go wrong when you combine the complex and fragile nature of the brain, throat, neck, and spine with the capacity your average NFL player has for damage.
However the vagueness of “devastating hits,” “big hits,” and “flagrant hits,” is bullshit. Football is a contact sport, and more than that, it’s the last sport where every game matters, and is played like it matters. You can’t just stick someone out in right field and let them hang out, and you can’t have someone jog down the court, every play matters, and every player (granted, some more than others) are counted on to hit and get hit.
The players know what they’re getting into with football. I’m pretty sure from Pop Warner or High School they have an understanding that what they’re about to do isn’t an organized tickle fight or a hug parade (held every Sunday in our living room). They understand that they will have to light motherfuckers up, or that out there is some psycho dude whose entire purpose is to light them up, motherfucker.
I’m all for player safety, but there needs to be express and explicit definitions of what constitutes an illegal hit. If the Baltimore Ravens, a team renowned for committing organized, team murder, and for publicly stating that every ref whoever lived is a fucking jag-off are combined with this new rule, the city of Baltimore will finally just kill itself by jumping into the goddamn ocean when they lose every game by 70 points. We can’t leave something like this up for on field, snap judgments or interpretations. Dear Jesus, do not let it go to video. Every hit looks like the most horrible thing ever when viewed in slow motion.
Finally, please, don’t take out the big hits. The last thing I want is someone impersonating the great John Facenda on NFL films describing, with that signature gravitas, a cornerback as “the greatest arm tackler of this or any other generation.”
You’re going to make every defense in the league play like the Colts.
That hurt like hell for me to have to type, but it’s true.
Dear Tony Dungy,
You are easily the greatest coach Indianapolis has ever seen. Even if we don’t count winning a Super Bowl, you’d still be our best coach by virtue of not being in a Coors Light ad.
However, all of us who are fans of the Colts would really appreciate it if you, I don’t know… shut up about anything not directly related to the actual game of football that takes place on a field filled with players and officials.
I, an unabashed fan of everything you’ve done for the team and city, could not care less on your thoughts about homosexuality or how Jets coach Rex Ryan conducts himself. I just don’t. Passing routes? Absolutely. How many f-bombs is too many f-bombs? Not even remotely near your boat, let alone the wheelhouse.
And if I don’t care, all the people who hate us, IE; everyone not from or a fan of Indianapolis are really going to not give a shit.
I write this now, as a pre-emptive measure because I’m really, really, really, not looking forward to whatever you’re going to say about Pat McAfee, AKA my new hero, this weekend.
Maybe you’ll forget since it’s Indy’s bye week.
Dear Pat McAfee,
Shine on you crazy diamond. Don’t ever stop living in the red. Party til Puke. Other lyrics from songs about partying.
I’m really glad you did that, because it means someone on the team hasn’t been replaced with a robot duplicate by Caldwell-Bot 9000 yet.
I don’t think I’ve seen that guy blink, yet. It bothers me.
First of all, I’d like to thank you for not driving, and not having a gun on you. I don’t want to get into stereotypes, but here’s the basic NFL arrest equation ‘Player + Booze x Cops = Gun’
So thanks for not getting behind the wheel of a car, killing somebody, falling off a truck, being involved in a drive-by, or all the other neat stuff players have done recently.
Apologize to the media, get choked up, and then do it again. I get it. This your release. You get wasted and jump in the canal. Some people paint, others hunt, you take your clothes off and jump in a man made body of water. Please keep letting your crazy out in a series of little, funny stunts like this, and not something disturbing like finding out Marvin Harrison has more guns than a NWA video.
Hey, this is weird. I know we haven’t talked in a while, and coming to you like this is a little out of the blue.
I had to stop watching you because the writing went to shit, and you began to build episodes around guest stars and not let the characters I spent a season caring about carry the narrative weight. Sorry about that, but you need to apologize for making an entire episode around Britney Spears.
We’re getting off track. I’m writing you to talk to you about the recent photoshoots:
Intellectually I understand that these are actors, and are all in their 20’s, but my only touchstone with them is that they are high schoolers.
Suffice to say, my boner is very confused.
Let’s do something about this.
And I’ll see you Monday. Again, if I remember.
Maybe I’ll get wasted Sunday and write something drunk again.
Posted on October 21, 2010, in Lists, Matt Loman, Movies, Music, Pop Culture, Television and tagged all these people are richer than me and that's why i hate them except the girls from glee i could never stay mad at them, celebrities, celebrity, celebs, colts, Dear Celebs, dianna agron, glee, jim caldwell, lea michele, Matt Loman, nfl, pat mcafee, the situation, tony dungy. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.