Thursday, October 11, 2007

Tired of Living in a Fake World?


X-Faketor

I read an article today that made me stop and wonder just what the heck is real these days. The article was about the show X-Factor which I know nothing about. A judge on the show, Louis Walsh, admitted that the show uses Fake houses as the judges homes. In other words, they don't own or live in the houses shown on television, they only use them to help promote episodes of the show.

Now we shouldn't actually be stunned by this bit of reality tv trickery. I've been saying it all along that reality tv is the furthest thing from reality on this planet. But what caught my attention in Mr. Walsh's admission was the show spokesperson's reasoning/justification behind its use of Fake houses as Real homes.

A spokesperson for ITV said: "The contestants are invited to a house. We call them the judges' houses, not the judges' homes."

In other words its a matter of semantics. We say "home" they say "house." Viewers are expected to know the difference. The show couldn't have left out the fact that the judges rented the homes as part of the show's promotion now could it? I mean, a show that goes by the name X-Factor where part of the title is Fact? Kinda makes you wonder just what the "X" stands for doesn't it.

We live in an age where we label something ours just because we can legally use it for our own purposes. You can rent an office by the hour and during that hour put picturesof your family on the rented desk, place your business name plate on the rented door, even have a rented private secretary screening clients as they arrive. But when that hour is up, that same rental office along with the secretary and anything else that you didn't bring in with you revert back to their original owner. You for all intents and purposes are considered a Trespasser on private property.


Another example of Fake being real is cosmetic surgery or enhancers. Women with breast implants will swear to their maker that the protruding lumps underneath their autumn sweater is God's gift to her and not a sugar daddy's. Men will use steroids and swear that hard work and hours in the gym produced their bulging biceps.

In Los Angeles, where you are judged by your area code and address more than anything else, you can purchase an address for all your correspondence. I'm told it can make the difference between getting a job or a date.

So just what is real and how are we to know when real is fake? Well, here's a little test you can do to determine such fakery.

If there's still a monetary balance due on an item, then it ain't yourn. If you can't give it away freely then it ain't yourn. If you stop ingesting, injecting or rubbing it on and the enhancing results vanish, then it never was yourn. If a policeman, a banker, a ex-spouse or a child can take it away from you, then it ain't yourn. If a toronado, hurricane, earthquake or other form of natural disaster can claim it and you have no way of replacing it, it wasn't yourn. If you find yourself laid up in a hopsital or lord forbid die, and collectors snatch it up in the blink of an eye, it wasn't yourn.

So basically, the only thing we have that we can call ours is the naked body that squirted out from our mother's legs on our day of birth. everything else is just borrowed for a bit. Go ahead, you can cry now!

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