Putrid Modern Hell #8

by HST UK on May 13, 2011

Putrid Modern Hell #8

“I don’t have time for these clowns. I don’t have time for their judgement and their stupidity. They lay down with their ugly wives in front of their ugly children and just look at their loser lives and then look at me and they say ‘I can’t process it’. Well no, and you never will. Stop trying, just sit back and enjoy the show.”
-Charlie Sheen

I’ve been following the Charlie Sheen circus since the start of the year. It’s got me watching old episodes of Two and a Half Men on Comedy Central. To say that each episode of the sitcom is formulaic would be a gross understatement. The plot is more predictable then my stool consistency after a chicken tikka masala and three bottles of bud. The show despite its popularity gives a little insight into Charlie Sheen’s dark side, because the ‘Charlie’ he plays in the show is essentially a candy coated version of himself. I believe Two and a Half Men’s unbelievable success has made Charlie Sheen brood, and then snort coke, and then indulge in a buffet of prostitutes and pornstars, and then ruin his home life, and then led him to this strange place; where for a few weeks he became the most infamous actor on the planet.

Sheen knows that he could make another five hundred episodes of Two and a Half Men, and earn millions and millions of dollars in the process, but would it satisfy him? No, because his career has become stagnant. Where was the kid who starred in Platoon, the hot young actor who looked like he might emulate the success of his Father? Is this the reason for the meltdown?
Nah, Charlie’s dismayed because of us. The idiots.

His live show the Violent Torpedo of Truth is a metaphorical mirror. He’s turning the mirror on us. Looking what we are willing to take an interest in. Some of us idiots have even chosen to pay money to see a celebrity breakdown live in the flesh, one that might not even be real. This is vitally important in the age of the inflated ego; there is a view that this is the modern day equivalent of the Acid Tests of the sixties and Happenings of the late fifties. Where people are hopefully going to realize how meaningless their lives are, and look at what they are interested in, and just maybe they themselves will become reawakened. All thanks to Charlie.

The tour is another one of those “I was there” events, similar to those mentioned by LCD Soundsystem in the song ‘Losing My Edge’. People turned up because they expected to be part of a moment. Every gig or comedy event we consumers pay tickets for, we expect moments. Because our ancestors, had such moments, though these moments were often spontaneous, and we didn’t have to buy them from Ticketmaster.

When I read review of the debut show of the ‘Violent Torpedo or Truth’ tour I was surprised to hear that people had chanted “Refund”, demanding to be reimbursed for their own stupidity. Have you dear reader ever bought something because you wanted to be part of the in crowd (for me personally it was buying a Big Mouth Billy Bass) Ever felt cheated when you realised that it was a complete waste of time and money? If you demanded a refund after that purchase then you are in short, an idiot.

I wondered exactly what those who attended the show expected from something thrown together in a few weeks. I mean, even a man running on pure tiger blood couldn’t rehearse a whole show that efficiently, there were bound to be a few mishaps come opening night. There are twenty one dates left on the tour to iron out the kinks.

Most of those who attended are likely to go online, and bitch about the show. Some may be enlightened and say “Fuck this Celebrity Dross”. They will no longer log onto TMZ or Perez Hilton dot com, they will no longer desire to eat strawberry jam from the arsecrack of Kim Kardashian. They might invest time, in purer, more constructive wastes of time. Like getting wasted in bars and hitting on loose women, or doing overtime at work fuelled by a six pack of Red Bull.See, this Charlie Sheen saga is the nadir of Celebrity. Sheen, as a famous actor has a right to highlight how engrossed the idiots become about uninteresting events. People would rather comment about Sheen then discuss the crisis in Libya, or the recent natural disasters that have blighted Japan, New Zealand and Australia.

In England, we have whole magazines devoted to reality show rejects, pop star failures and glamour girls. Celebrities who are talked about for doing not too much other than breathing, fucking fellow no marks and going in and out of rehab like an old dot goes in and out of the newsagents each morning for a paper and a pack of fags.
Charlie has made me realize that I’m an idiot for bothering to write about any of this shit.

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