Jon and Kate + Hate

I minored in Blog Title Rhetoric at the U of A.

I prefer the "social magazine" Star because it gives me what I want in a page or less. Other 'zines (Us Weekly) think I want to read a National Geographic-length article about LoLo's breakdown, which is so incorrect. I want pictures. I am a pre-literacy baby, thirsty for colorful prints and not meaningless, petty spots on who forgot to wear makeup to their yoga class (blocked by their assistant!).

This is going somewhere? Oh yeah. The exception is once I bought an Us Weekly because they had an aforementioned at-length article on Jon and Kate's tenuous marriage. Finally, content worth the 3 minutes spent reading it. It mentioned that Kate was a KontrolMonster with terrible mom hair. Oh, and that Jon was probably leaving. Dur.

This made me ask myself - why do I not feel anything about this situation, other than the same feeling I get when I take my first bite of birthday cake? Oh yeah, I hate 1. mom hair 2. Kate and 3. parents of multiples who chose not to selectively reduce against the advice of doctors. What do they know? A decade of school and internships just to practice medicine? Psh. Clusters of unnaturally conceived cells are gifts from god. Little, asthmatic, underdeveloped and prematurely delivered gifts from a god who probably thinks that human women shouldn't have litters. A clutch of babies. A Sam's Club Box of Bebbehs.

Normally I would feel bad for Jon. He seems like an all right guy who just got into a bad situation. Like, the bad situation - a controlling wife driven to multiply, like that movie Species except less titillating. Probably zero titillation, in fact. After all, those babies were inserted, you know? His effort was minimal.

Except that he's a dumb frat boy. It would be hard to garner this information normally, but the low-content magazines of record are showing us so. Binge drinking, getting pictures taken with equally drunk college juniors, getting into cars with other women??? Jon, we all wanted to help a brother out. We all saw the despair on your face; we all recognized the death-is-the-only-respite dullness behind your eyes. Why, Jon? Why? Now you're that guy at the bar we're making fun of and creating some sort of novelty name for, like Mr. Pictures. And that's kind of irreversible. Not unlike that French rape film in reverse, Irreversible.

Now when they break up, we'll have to send all 8 kids to some recovery center like DogTown. They'll be caged for awhile, but then they'll let the handlers pet them through the fence, and eventually they can take them out on walks at the river. Aww, they're play fighting! Uh-oh, one of the near-sighted sextuplets is having an asthma attack. To be continued! Next week on DogTown...


Borked!