It was inevitable. If we can get Shakespearean plays from one million monkeys banging on one million typewriters, then we can get Lovecraftian horror from a few dozen monkeys banging Snooki.
Crass? Sure. I don’t like it either. I’ve spent most of my life hiding from pop culture bullshit and avoiding topical jokes. Every time I type “Kardashian,” my left hand trembles in violent nervousness as my right hand updates my last will and testament. Even writing the first line of this column drove me to near-madness. Alas, this article must reference Snooki’s unborn child, the prenatal Cthulhu that will bring nightmares and dark times once it is awoken.
Full disclosure: never a big fan of Jersey Shore. I’ve seen a few episodes, but it was nothing I could commit to. Some friends will watch it on slow afternoons when nothing else is on, but I find it too infuriating for lazy television. One of the episodes I saw was when the gang went to Italy. Snooki goes into a small store and impulse-buys a very old and gigantic bottle of wine, nearly matching her in height and alcohol content. Soon after leaving the store, the wine bottle falls out of her backpack and shatters on the cobblestone road. She says something like “oh no!” as if she had dropped a half-melted ice-cream cone or she’s watching a puppy that can’t stop sneezing. Snooki continues walking and leaves the pile of broken glass for the locals to clean up, because some metaphors about American values don’t need to be forced.
She’ll have a baby by September, and I think she’s the only one excited about it. Her ex-boyfriend spoke a bewildering set of words, saying “not to be rude or anything … but I hope she has a miscarriage.” Dramatic and dumb, this is the type of world this poor baby will eventually destroy by simply waking after an ancient slumber. On the off chance that Snooki’s baby isn’t Cthulhu, what hope does it have? It’ll be born under cameras and doomed to a lineage worse than other celebrity offspring. It has its own fake Twitter account. In five years, that baby will verify its own Twitter handle and get more followers than I ever will.
Rush Limbaugh called a college student a slut and prostitute for arguing the case for government insurance coverage of contraceptives. There is this very old and still prominent belief that a girl on birth control will leave a wake of sexed bodies wherever she goes, like a nympho samurai. The nympho samurai is frightening, but old men have it wrong. This real hormonal warrior inside of all of us still wants education, autonomy and security before having a kid. Give contraception to the people requesting it, for they are smart and taking control of their own life. Oh God, what stupid name is Snooki going to give that stupid baby? Is there a book for baby Jersey names?
Here are some other stories from this week worth knowing:
–Con Air 2 might be a magical possibility.
-David Hasselhoff takes advantage of his devoted German following and dresses up as Adolf Hitler in a stage show. He is the happiest Hitler I have ever seen.
-This one is more of a personal discovery, but did you know that Juggalos have their own version of Facebook? Come for the easy laughs, stay for the user names.