The horrifying domestic violence death Jasmine Fiore is despicable in and of itself.The coverage of the case, though the stakes are markedly lower, is in context almost as despicable on some notable levels:
1. Words mean something. So Jasmine's scumbag ex-quickie husband, Ryan Jennings, was in no way a "star," even if he was a particpant or contestant on contrived, lame-ass VH1 reality shows. And the young lady, while a model, may or may not even have posed for Playboy.
2. How exactly does someone become so unhinged that he thinks up so many ways to cover up his murder of someone he loved, instead of thinking up ways to make money other than charming a vacuous, gold-digging Playboy model in front of cameras?
3. While watching train-wreck reality shows satisfies the same voyeurism we possess when we slow down to watch a freeway accident, what exactly is it going to take to realize that putting idiot assholes (sometimes, perhaps. 'roided up) in close proximity with attractive, vulnerable women is going to create a serious, likely violent, problem?
Does not anyone remember the "Jenny Jones case" right here in beautiful Oakland County, Michigan? Or Network, for that matter?
1 comment:
watching shows like Megan Wants a Millionaire routinely makes me feel better about myself. See? They aren't completely useless!
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