Monday, December 30, 2013

Shoot that Duck


The new Will Ferrell film, Anchorman II, is one of the silliest I’ve ever seen, but embedded in the gags and bits is a commentary about our popular culture, namely, that the dumber it is, the more people will clamor for it. When the major American media consolidated a couple of decades ago, and print, TV and radio outlets fell into fewer and fewer corporate hands, programming honchos figured out that dumbing things down was a sure-fire path to sustained profits, and in short order real “news” was ditched in favor of high-speed car chases, celebrity weddings and breakups, features about cuddly animals, salacious murders, fashion, kidnappings, and stories of survival. Television shows about television shows sprouted like mold.

I had never heard of Phil Robertson or Duck Dynasty until the recent dustup over comments Robertson made about homosexuality, when his bearded face began appearing all over the Internet, from Facebook to the New York Times. The A&E Network briefly suspended Robertson from Duck Dynasty, then, under pressure from viewers and right-wing luminaries like Sarah Palin, Rick Santorum and Bobby Jindal, relented. Robertson will be back at the head of his clan.

Curious to see what I was missing, I watched five minutes of a Duck Dynasty episode on-line; that was enough -- celebrating rednecks, no matter how wealthy or colorful -- isn’t my idea of entertainment. I read a comment from one dedicated Duck viewer that he loved the show because the Robertson clan celebrates “Christian” faith and values. Well, that seals the deal for me.

My wife tells me I must reconcile myself to the fact that pop culture is a celebration of stupidity. She can watch an episode of The Real Housewives of (enter name of city here) with serene detachment; the inanity of the show doesn’t make her apoplectic or homicidal; I can’t muster anything but contempt and vitriol for rich, self-absorbed, Botoxed women, and the same goes for pawn shop owners, hoarders, real estate junkies, fashion designers and chefs. All they do is make noise and create drama where none exists. Why people care about Phil Robertson escapes me – honestly, I don’t get it.

It’s not surprising to me that a majority of Americans believe in miracles, angels, fairies, or that the earth is only 6,000 years old. We celebrate dumbing down at every opportunity and our appetite for crap and schmaltz is as insatiable as it is profitable for its purveyors; money is the only reason A&E executives put the Duck king back on his throne. They’re not going to slice off their nose to spite their face. The Duck man will be around until he says something truly over the top.

I was thinking I might write something uplifting and hopeful as we approach 2014, but I’ve succumbed to the blues once again. Sorry, folks. I thank all of you from around the world for reading this blog; I suspect some of you stumble across it purely by accident, but for those who step up and sit a spell, I thank you and wish you all the best in the new year.  

  

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