January 17th, 2018
(written by lawrence krubner, however indented passages are often quotes). You can contact lawrence at: firstname.lastname@example.org
When Jane Austen was 17 years old she visited some cousins, who had some old copies of the Spectator. Since she recognized the name, she started to read the famous magazine. She was horrified. The vulgar language, the sexual terms, the gross metaphors invoking shit and maggots and eating babies — everything disgusted her. She said that she could form no liking of an era that had tolerated such coarseness.
But, then again, what am I saying. Of course people know this! Of course people understand implicitly that I am going to one day in the near future develop serious health problems not limited to massive weight gain, type II diabetes, and likely drug addiction as a result of emotional maladjustment and years of unrestricted access to dangerous substances provided by television producers and sponsors. You’d kind of have to be a willfully clueless idiot not to realize that, after all. That’s something anyone who’s watched even one second of my show, particularly any moment that involves me or my family eating or speaking, would realize.
So, assuming you all understand this, then that means you are all totally okay with gleefully laughing at me and my family, even when there is a pretty darn good chance that an act of horrific violence may very well lurk in my not-too-distant future. An act of violence that, say, 10 or 15 years from now will make people who once watched my show say, “Oh my God, that’s awful. What a sad and fucked up little life she had. Well, that’s what happens when someone is given that much attention and exposure at such an early age. It warps their mind and makes it impossible for them to develop into normal adults.”
Those are words you will speak one day. And you’re okay with that, right? You should probably be okay with that if you want to keep watching my show.
And, as any television viewer with even one shred of common sense surely knows, that’s only in the best-case scenario. In the worst-case scenario, my reckless behavior and destructive lifestyle will entangle dozens of people within an inner circle of handlers, publicists and hangers-on with whom I’m still able to surround myself due to appearances at nightclubs and adult magazines, which will pay just enough money to keep me from insolvency—that is, until I reach an age in which the public inevitably tires of me and I have to resort to pornography or prostitution.