Tabloid Racks

What is about the magazine racks at the check out counter, almost is if they had placed a bunch of sex mags on the shelves, something compels me to look over, analyize the latest gossip about A List movie stars with whom I have nothing in common with what so ever. Not much different than surfing the internet, just passing time, dumbing down, feeling the fantasy of digging into the hard times of those more fortunate than myself, a rally cry, a pledge, a victory over those who we allow to manipulate, control, and dictate our futures through social culture, economic trends, and the elusive fantasy of success. There is no real reason for these magazines, except to supplant, drugs or booze, they have the same effect, crawling away into another space, into another world, far away from the vicious reality of surviving in a world drowning in overpopulation, wasted natural resources, and a union of masses who would rather flush the mess down the toilet then fight to save anything.

All these celebs, stalked like wild animals wherever they go, no matter what place on the planet, there is always some photographer hiding the tall grass, a catcus, or cocunut tree waiting to capture that golden moment which will put them on the map in the paparazzi department, either way, people must love the mags cause the store keep putting them out on the shelf to be sold, I get pissed at myself whenever I look over to read the headlines, a guilty pleasure, not even a real pleasure, but curious to see what the hell someone has painstakingly gone over in order to shape up into a some form of reading material, total junk, but to our society it supercedes, the evening news, politics, and global harmony, this is the real world, the silver screen, the super hero idealistic man and woman who the public shall never resemble, the masses live through the actors and their superstardom, somehow feeling connected, intertwined, and relative to their experiences when in fact most of the people live in hollow compact apartment, slowly dissolving on obseity, alcohol, and depression, drifting further away from sanity into another realm of no pain, where belief is enough to invoke change while riding the escalator to heaven, saved by the grace of Hollywood.