Celebrity Death Bashing - America's New Favorite Pastime?

It started long ago, but it hit its stride the day Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett died (June 25, 2009). That's obviously a big thanks to social networking. I've noticed that's there's a clear line drawn down the middle when it comes how people handle stars dying. First there's those that feel sorrow for the recently deceased supernova. And then there's those who use such an event to fuel a slew of new cruel jokes and punchlines in an attempt to see who can out-cringe the others who are also taking this approach dealing with the sad news. I would say I'm one of the latter.

So with that, let me preface the rest of this by saying, yes, death is very sad. But the way I see it, the further outside someone's death gets away from your inner circle of people you actually know and care about, the easier it is to deal with, or to some, make fun of. So being that it is unrealistic for someone of general ilk, like you and I, to be very close to a celebrity figure, it seems in that case it becomes easier to use a different emotion, as in humor over sadness, to deal with pain or react to bad news. The good news is, with using this approach, there's always a small bright side to these attempts of dark humor, and that is it's usually just a joke.

If I may, it needs to be said. The first group of people I mentioned earlier crack me up. These are the people who hear the news, rarely verify if it's true in any nature, and then immediately update their walls with their condolences. A small, very small, percentage of these people are genuine. But the rest either want to be Dan Rather or Diane Sawyer and be the first to break the latest hot story, or they want to see the comments and likes they get from it (aka need attention). What proves this fact is, if you check their friends list for people they follow, rarely will you find that these people ever had interest in the celebrity's social network offerings at all. So that confirms to me that their posts aren't being made so that the celebrity's family or friends can see it with sincere sympathy. So instead of posting it publicly, why not say a quick prayer to yourself quietly, rather than broadcasting to the world that you're sorry someone died!? And to top it all off, the people that say R.I.P. are the best. You're saying that to someone that can't hear or read what you're saying, so why say it? I know it's an old expression, but it's dumb. Believe me, I'm guilty of saying R.I.P., but only when I care enough about the person, and I'm usually at their viewing/wake saying it as I see them for the very last time. But when a celebrity dies, I usually say to them what I told them yesterday. Nothing.

If you truly cherish a celebrity or any artist or any high profile person, why not take 5 minutes out of your life, find their contact info online and say what you have to say to them. This way you won't feel bad and assume you have to say something after they've passed, which is when it's too late and they'll never know what you wanted to say. (The only other way they won't know, would be that they're too arrogant to read messages from fans. Yeah, they're awesome people to adore.) And believe me, you feel really dumb sending the message or letter, but you feel even better later because you sent it.

And while I'm at it, if you've got a lingering grudge with an old friend or family member you haven't spoken to in a while, then give them 5 minutes too. Chances are, you'll get a better reaction from whoever is closer in your inner circle. Forgive, forget, and move on...or be depressed about it forever and post cryptic references relating to them on your wall after they die, when it's too late.

As for the second group of people I mentioned earlier, most people would believe they have no heart when they hear the awful words that fill the air shortly after the death of a celebrity. That air usually being close to a comedy club or comedians in general, or their facebook walls. But when putting being offended aside, they can only make you smile by making you think about the way they see the world.

So with all of that being said, I guess I've always wondered what the big deal is about celebrities and most of them with the trashy lifestyles they live that draws in the common folk. I know it's more than being voyeuristic, but what else is it? It's just sad to me that everyday hard working people put their personal issues aside and focus on someone else's personal issues for entertainment. It doesn't make sense. The world is changing around us every minute, and it's been a long time since it's been for the better. So why are we distracting ourselves with celebrity deaths or gossip or even sports, knowing there's a world out there that needs fixing? People need to quit wasting brain cycles on this kind of entertainment, which in all actuality, is really outside the realm of entertainment that these celebrities provide.

-CMuff

Holy War

So I inadvertently started a holy war with the Jehovah's witnesses in the neighborhood I deliver mail to. You would think we would get along right, both of us going door to door... we have so much in common..we both give people shit they don't want So every saturday the hova's descend upon the neighborhood like white people descend upon an LL bean during a sale...pouring out of their so called " Kingdog Hall" which in fact looks less like a kingdom and more like a converted rent a center...let's face it if God had a kingdom on earth it would be the magic kingdom at Disney full of fireworks and shit.... So I spent the better part of my morning ducking and dodging old black women dressed in their finest outfits as they blocked every single mailbox like a piece of cholesterol blocks a fat guys arteries thereby making my job ten times fucking harder..... so by about lunch time I pretty much hated Jesus more than George Bush hated black people So at lunch I'm parked in the Wawa lot and I had my window cracked and out of the rear view mirror I see the same three black women approaching my van. I've got a mouth full of funyuns and nowhere to run, I'm trapped. I hear a slight tap on the window from the cane  of the short black woman who looked like gollum with a green hat and she attempted to slide a pamphlet into the crack in the window exactly like how I slot a letter through a mailslot and proceeded to ask " Do you read the bible?" I replied with a mouth full of funyuns " No sorry..I don't read fiction." Her face looked like a I just punched her in the vagina...the three of them backed away in horror and I felt like I achieved some sort of victory for people who hate being harassed. So an hour later I'm walking down a street and I see them coming up the opposite direction, so many of them they resemble the gangs from the video 'beat it' and as our paths crossed they began to hurl insults at me from across the street " You are a sinner!" " You are going to hell!!" Then finally the little old gollum with the cane from earlier raised that cane again, pointed it in my direction and said " You live in a den of inequity." To which I replied " How the hell did you know my den was furnished by Ikea?" So I went home that night and was still fuming over my little war with these non birthday celebrating assholes...that should tell you everything, they don't celebrate birthdays, fuck you.... birthdays rock So the next morning I'm having coffee wtih my future wife when I get an idea. I shoot up the stairs, hop in the shower, do my hair and put on my best suit. I strode by my bride to be looking fine as fuck for the the first time in a decade and she asked " where the hell are you going?" I grabbed a piece of paper,a pen and a red marker and and I told her " I'm going to spread the word." So I took the piece of paper, wrote " Church of Satan" on it and below it I drew and colored a devil but it came out more looking like a red cow...my drawing is so bad it looks like your retarded eight year old cousin broke into the crayola box " I drew picture" So I hopped in my gigantic 20inch tires lifted jeep,  you know the one that screams " I have a small penis" and " my mom never loved me" it was both in case you were wondering, and I'm looking good in my suit, so good gay men are pulling up to me at lights and saying " Hey Girlfriend" and I'm all like " Heyyyy" back cause I'm a silly bitch and I pulled up a few blocks away from the church. I walked down, and pounded on the door...and this Black herman munster looking dude opened the door and asked " How can I help you?" I replied " I was wondering if you'd like to join the church of satan.." and with that he said " You motherfucker" (they don't celebrate birthdays but apparently it is ok to curse?) and began to chase me. So I looked back, crumbled up the pamphlet and threw it at him and said " We are accepting new members." I could feel him gaining on me so I looked back, and where there was one now there were like eight, and one of them looked awfully familiar but I can't stop and ask, it's not the time, or I'll get holy rolled, so I start to feel like Han solo being chased through te death star by storm troopers.  There was also a white guy in the mix, which almost made me pause mid-chase, turn around and ask " How much drugs and prison time did you do to fuck your life up bad enough to want to join that church." But like I said, time was of the essence however the question still haunts me. Cause let's face it, not too many Hova's are white. So I ended up at  an instersection, a car almost hits me but I slid over that shit like Bo Duke over the hood of the General Lee and the Hova's stopped and I screamed " Hey guys, what would Jesus do? I know, nothing cause he's a fake. Tell J-hova I said hi and I hope he and Beyonce are ok" I turned around and beat feet back to the millenum falcon... Feeling self satisfied, I walked into work on monday morning and I was greeted by a black co worker named Joe. He approached me and said " Hey Nick how was your Sunday?" " Fantastic" I replied " You get a good run in?" Curious, I retorted " As a matter of fact yes I did." And I as said that, he pulled out from his back pocket my crumpled up psychotic pamphlet, handed it to me and said " There's something wrong with you, and I will pray for you." I smiled with a shit eating grin and replied " So you're gonna join the church of satan?"

The KupMuff Show interviews Rick Santorum

Hey everyone! Get this. Rick Santorum stopped by The KupMuff Show studio over the weekend, during his Presidential campaign trail. He told us we were the only media he could trust because we make him feel open and free discussing what's on his mind. What we get is a treat for the masses.  Please share this link before it's too late. The people interested in voting for Rick Santorum must hear this. The KupMuff Show - Santorum Interview

Oops! Sorry Jesus

Tragedy

Tragedy comes in many forms and in many shapes and sizes. Hitler and his rampage over Europe was a tragedy. New Coke was a tragedy. David Hasselhoff being allowed to sing is a horrific tragedy...again you can blame the Germans. Yet not everything that occurs is a tragedy. Not getting picked first on the basketball court isn't a tragedy, being teased by your friends isn't a tragedy and most certainly when a celebrity offs themselves via drugs, alcohol or bad behavior then it can be marked up to stupidity, not tragedy. For instance Whitney Houston. Her death has been called a tragedy, but I think this is a misuse of the word. Ladies and gentlemen I will tell you what a real tragedy is and that's any man, especially white, who still dresses like a thug well over the age of 25. You know the guy, straight brimmed hat with stickers still on it, neck tattoo that just screams "I've gone as far in society as I'd like to go" more community college than Harvard. I have yet to see one Harvard graduate with a neck tattoo of the name " Lafawnda". The only guy who still drives a suped up Honda Civic that you can hear coming from ten miles away due to the horrible muffler and the crappy audio system that only seems to rattle the cheap plastic spoiler. It should also be noted it may be the last car on earth with tinted windows. The question I have is what becomes of these men when they reach their sixties? " Hey mom did Grandpop poop himself???" " No honey that's just how he wears his pants." And that my friends, is a tragedy.