$45.2 B-I-L-L-I-O-N in one year. That is $150 for every man, woman, and child in the U.S. How is this possible? I give you the New York Mercantile Exchange to blame. And why? Money, duh!
Maybe I’m missing something here, but it seems to me that the price of gas should be determined by how much it costs to pull the oil from the ground and then refine, transport, and distribute it, plus tax. That should be it, right? Unfortunately, it’s not. Buying and selling oil on speculation at the New York Mercantile Exchange (and London’s ICE Futures) is to blame for the capricious pricing. It has nothing to do with myths of “peak oil” or supply and demand. The process of trading “paper oil” is very opaque. Actually understanding the “who” and “why” is about as transparent as West Texas crude.
We can all agree that gas prices are out of whack and about as stable as Britney’s mental health. The lack of regulation has only enhanced the confusion and greed. The NYME needs a babysitter, that’s all there is to it. We have already learned that we can’t trust greedy businessmen with power. As my high school world history teacher frequently reminded us, “Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts
№093
The paparazzi
For causing the death of a princess.
Except for Twitter, who cares what Britney ate for breakfast? Not us. Nor do we care what Nicole puked up. And please, TMZ, only report Lindsay’s car accidents that the tabloids don’t cause. Here’s an eye-opener: I’ll bet you heard plenty on Paris’s trip to the slammer. But did you know Kiefer Sutherland served forty-eight days behind bars a couple years ago? If you did, give yourself a gold star. But for the rest of us, I guess he’s just too old, doesn’t have boobs, and hasn’t starred in enough leaked porn videos for us to care.
Saying the paparazzi have gone too far would be like saying Chris Brown only gave Rihanna a light love tap. And by this point, we’re bored with it. All of it. I know it’s hard to feel sorry for some celebs with all that money and fame and such. And you’d probably want to spit on them if you knew their real personalities anyway. But—you don’t. The only personality you know is what’s hyped in the tabloids. That’d be cool if the gossip were true. Because sleeping in an oxygen chamber sounds like fun to me (if for no other reason than to escape the paparazzi). And sure, if it was good enough for Walt, I also want to be cryogenically frozen when I die! And if Mikey died doing it, then I won’t eat Pop Rocks and drink soda either!
But what’s worse is that the paparazzi not only fabricate ridiculous rumors, but they also drive these poor celebrities off the edge. No wonder Britney shaved her head… I would’ve too! Which brings us to the reason for this entry: The paparazzi, in their endless quest for the next headliner, helped killed Princess Diana. Remember? Her car swerved head-on into a pillar inside a tunnel going 65 mph while being chased by the photographers. In 2008, a jury determined that the driver, Henri Paul, and the
You destroy lives
№094
Los Angeles
For promoting valet parking.
Valet parking is described in the dictionary as a service offered by a hotel, restaurant, etc., through which patrons’ cars are parked by an attendant. Perhaps you’ve never seen this service? You either don’t have a car or never dine out. Either way, if you have not experienced one, you might be labeled a cheap bastard.
Los Angeles started promoting this senseless status symbol in the 1940s. I guess the Hollywood elite felt comfortable driving their own cars, but self-parking was just SO 1930s. Whatever the reason, the tradition somehow stuck, and now we have to pay a minimum of $4.50 at many ordinary restaurants and hotels to be, usually, inconvenienced. Seriously, it doesn’t make me feel any more upper class to have my car parked for me at the Cheesecake Factory.
Don’t get me wrong—there are a few good reasons to valet park. Perhaps there is no other parking available, or it may take longer than fifteen minutes to walk from a self-found parking space, or maybe the weather is bad. In these cases, it’s worth it, and I am all for it! However, many establishments around the country feel they must have mandatory valet parking even though there are huge, nearly empty dedicated parking lots adjacent to the restaurants. This is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.
What if they skipped the parking part and just cleaned your car, or added some windshield washer fluid, or replaced the breaks, or gave you an alignment? I wouldn’t feel ripped-off if they did that. But no, instead, they just lollygag to your car and bring it back to you in the same or worse condition in which you gave it to them.
Here are the new RIFE laws: Twenty seconds or less or it’s free. If you can physically see your car from the valet stand, then it’s free. If it takes longer to wait for some guy to get the car than it would to walk to it, it’s free. If they don’t run to your car, it’s free. If they stink up the car, it’s probably from the BO caused from running, but it will still be free. I don’t like your cheesecake anyway.
№095
MTV
For making “reality TV” a reality.
MTV (in case you’ve been on a constant Xanax drip since birth) stands for Music Television. MTV had a good thing going with music videos, music news, band interviews, and, in general, shows about—you guessed it—music! So what makes a music TV station put non-music-related reality shows on the air? Brain damage. Every boob tube junkie’s grasp on “reality” was forever changed with the airing of a show called
What gets pumped through the idiot box has radically changed since the birth of television. The years have morphed ten channels of simple black-and-white telecasting into plasma simulcasting in HD via satellite. TV used to be my buddy. As a kid I could cuddle up to
