The Fabulous Lives Of...

This past weekend, while lying on the couch trying to shake off a bad case of alcohol poisoning, I found myself the victim of a common but seldom reported phenomenon: BTMD, i.e. Behind the Music Dependence. You know how it goes - you are sitting there flipping though the channels, you see VH1 Behind The Music is on, and there's some artist on that you don't even like, but you keep watching for no other reason than morbid curiosity. Before you know it, you are asking, "Wait, did I just watch the whole John Denver Behind the Music? Fuck, I just watched the whole John Denver Behind the Music!" To make matters worse, they are in the middle of a Behind the Music marathon. Next thing you know, you've seen the Leif Garrett, Meat Loaf, Bette Midler, and Billy Idol specials.


During a subsequent Foreigner special, you have a moment of clarity: "What the fucking hell am I doing? I've got to turn this shit off, and consider a less addictive habit, like mainlining crystal meth." Suddenly a strange feeling comes over you, somewhere between urge to shoot yourself in the face, and wanting to shower because you are unclean. You feel guilty, used, embittered. You don't give a fuck about the Bay City Rollers -- as a matter of fact, you detest the Bay City Rollers! You would probably dance with joy if the members of Bon Jovi died slowly, covered with picnic food and tied to an anthill.


So why the hell did you just watch 60 minutes of television about them? Because the good folks at VH1 have hit upon a formula that works; regardless of the artist, with very little variation, the episodes go something like this:


1. A poor soul, born into nothing with dreams of success
2. The years of struggle
3. The first big false break that doesn't pan out, almost giving up, and the dashed hopes
4. Finally, the big break
5. The onset of outrageous wealth, descent into excess, and the eventual collision with rock bottom
6. The big comeback


Yep, it isn't so much an accurate representation of the artist, as it is good television.


Through the years, the public has developed immunity to this type of programming, and is subconsciously able to recognize the formula. So, what does VH1 do? Transmogrify Behind the Music into The Fabulous Lives Of, Driven, and It's Good To Be, and spit it right back out there, like a virulent strain of the AIDS virus, morphing to evade detection. It's the television equivalent of cooking cocaine with baking soda, and making crack rocks; far more dangerous, more addictive, and shame filled than its previous incarnation. On rare occasions, Behind the Music would chronicle the rise and fall of a star that actually did make some kind of difference in the field of music, but The Fabulous Lives Of and It's Good To Be pick entertainers that barely did anything to get to where they are today and proceed to flaunt their outrageous wealth and opulent lifestyles in the faces of the disenfranchised viewers .


Behind the Music may have left you feeling suicidal, but these shows force you to an Andrew Cunanan-style cross-country killing spree, ending with a celebrity bloodbath in Hollywood. With these new shows, you won't see performers who actually made a difference, such as Public Enemy, AC/DC, or Dr. Dre. You won't even see entertainers whose stories are at least amusing, like Rick James or Weird Al Yankovic. Now we are stuck with Justin Timberlake, the Hilton sisters, Christina Aguilera, Kelly Ripa, Britney Spears, Pamela Anderson, and Carmen Electra -- soulless pop stars, manufactured by the media. Worse yet, VH1 would lead us to actually believe these idiots did something to deserve this stellar success.


Call me old fashioned, but I've always thought the people who are the innovators, the movers, the shakers, the visionaries -- reeling in the dust for what they believed in, and willing to sacrifice everything -- should be the people rewarded with lavish lifestyles and financial excess. This is not the case in today's mega pop star, media-driven world. Let us take a second to go down the list of today's multimillionaires, and illustrate why they don't deserve all the success, and how you, the public, have been scammed again. Now, you're stuck listening to homogenized, cookie cutter music, and seeing shitass diluted movies because creativity and innovation actually hurt an entertainer's career.


I would first like to take exception with Britney Spears. She is most definitely a true artist deserving of all her success; as a 16 year-old jamtart dancing in a skimpy Catholic school girl outfit in the "Hit Me Baby One More Time" video -- groundbreaking, simply groundbreaking.


Now, onto the list...


DRIVEN: CARMEN ELECTRA - A starry-eyed girl from Cincinnati moves to Hollywood, fucks Prince, gets set up with a music career which flops, goes on to Baywatch, then Playboy, and stays in the press by dating an out of control cross-dressing NBA party boy -- she's driven? That's not drive; that's being a hot bimbo that caught a lucky break. Yes, it's true she is a hot piece of schnizzle. Driven? HELL NO! Would I still fuck her? Yeah, well... errr, yeah -- of course! Before I did, I would have to strap a triple-ply Glad Bag to my dick. Having been bored out by the gargantuan, herpes polluted tool of Dennis Rodman, sticking your dick in that pussy would be like ringing a bell. Worse, she is now married to the openly bisexual, former intravenous drug-using Dave Navarro. This Hollywood hottie is easily one of the most dangerous pieces of cooze on the west coast. Proceed with caution.


Since we are talking about STD infected Hollywood hotties, let's take some time for...


IT'S GOOD TO BE PAMELA ANDERSON - Originally titled: It's Not So Bad to Have Hepatitis C; Pamela Anderson's career is much the same as Carmen Electra's. If you've seen the It's Good To Be special you might have been misled into thinking she actually has some sort of marketable skill aside from the huge knockers. Pamela was just another hot slut, milling around Hollywood, trawling for her lucky break. She got her break alright, but don't be fooled into thinking that she possesses some form of talent. LA has a bevy of hot bitches. It could have happened to anyone just as easily it did for her. What Pamela has accomplished in showbiz is the equivalent of winning the lottery. I'd rather see Driven: Colleen DeVries. You might be saying, Colleen De-Who? For those of you not in the know, Mrs. DeVries, from the town of Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, holds the world record for the biggest gambling win ever: $111,240,463.10 on the Powerball Lottery. It's not much different than being on Baywatch or being a Playboy Playmate; the only real difference -- it takes talent to scratch off a lottery ticket.


THE FABULOUS LIVES OF THE HILTON SISTERS - No shit, Sherlock, of course it is: they are born into one of the wealthiest families in the world. They can wipe their asses with $75,000 in $100 bills, eat soup made out of Cambodian babies, and have multi-continent birthday bashes every day of their life if they want. There is no reason to purport them as some sort of entertainer, unless of course they're planning to crank out more night-vision porn. Paris's debut was kind of lame. I think Nikki would do better, and needs to jump pussy first into the jizz biz; she's the hotter sister of the two anyway.


IT'S GOOD TO BE JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE - After I caught myself watching this, I felt the urge to decorate my shoes. What did he do anyway? He started young as a member of the Mickey Mouse Club - whoa, way to keep it real, dawg! What the fuck is going on over at the Mickey Mouse Club, anyway? Is it today's Skull and Bones Society / Entertainment Illuminati? Between Limbercock, Spears, and Christina Aguilera; one might be led to believe that it is. After being a Mousekaqueer, JT joined *NSUCK, whose image, songs, and even dance moves are dictated by a crew of faceless managers? Wow, what an artist! Then at the 2001 Video Music Awards, he danced his way out some gay-looking, oversized boom box, and onto the A-List of entertainers. Now, he's working on his second album, and the word on the streets is: He is actually writing his own songs. Uhh, you know what? FUCK THIS SHIT -- it's time for...


JOHN'S: IT'S GOOD TO HAVE A DRIVEN FABULOUS LIFE


Obviously, society is simply unwilling to give credit to people who really stick their necks out to make a difference in music or the performing arts, so I would like to do what little I can to correct these injustices. If I could rewrite history, as well as a few bank accounts, I would do it for the following individuals, for they have done more to advance music, art, and pop culture than any of today's lame-ass, canned celebs.


IT'S GOOD TO BE THE SWEDISH CHEF FROM THE MUPPETS - Today's batch of hot celebs are nothing but puppets, so, for my first nomination, I think it's appropriate to nominate an actual marionette. Yes, the Swedish Chef was merely dancing at the hands of puppet master Jim Henson when he sang his infectious "Yee-Spor-Deeky-Dee-Spor-Deeky-Dee-Spor-Deeky-Doo-Uum-Bork-Bork-Uum-Bork-Bork-Uum-Bork-Bork-Bork", but it was a damn catchy song. He's certainly added real value to the years I've spent on this planet. Besides that, he slung meatballs instead of Pepsi. Meatballs kick Pepsi's ass.


THE FABULOUS LIFE OF BUSHWICK BILL - Fuck P-Diddy! Bushwick Bill should have made a much larger (no pun intended) impact on the world of hip hop. While many would merely consider a rapping midget a novelty, Bushwick Bill was an artist of true depth, with such tender lyrics as "Her body's beautiful / So I'm thinking rape / Shouldn't have left the curtain open / Now that's her fate" from 1989's Mind of a Lunatic - now that's fuckin' gangsta! In a symbolic gesture, Bushwick shot his own eye out instead of watching the first Cash Money Millionaires video. 50 Cent likes to brag about being shot, but that ain't shit compared to a nigga so fucking hard he shoots himself! Bushwick and The Ghetto Boys symbolized everything that is wrong with the music business when they were forced to disband by a bad contract they signed in the late 80's. I would also like to take a second to give a shout out to my homeboy, Willie D, whose Go Play With Yo Momma is easily one of the most overlooked gems in hip-hop: "You got a family / Aww, that's beautiful / I wanna see them at your god damned funeral / Along with your bitch and your friends / Cause I'm gonna view the body / And pop your ass again". NOW THAT'S FUCKIN' GANGSTA!


DRIVEN: SETH PUTNAM - The driving force behind Anal Cunt, and author of the greatest song titles of all time, Seth penned such classics as the ode to Eric Clapton: "Your Kid Committed Suicide Because You Suck", along with "Hitler Was A Sensitive Man"; "I Got An Office Job For The Sole Purpose of Sexually Harassing Women"; "I Sent Concentration Camp Footage To Americas Funniest Home Videos"; and hundreds of songs like "{Insert any string of words here} Is Gay". AC pioneered grindcore, released ten albums, countless EPs, and numerous split singles. I have personally had the honor of meeting Seth. The last time I saw him, he was careening in a mini-van the wrong way against traffic after doing "the dine and dash" (aka - the chew and screw) to duck paying a $23 dollar tab at a Waffle House in Spartanburg, SC. There still may be hope for Putnam; the average AC song is about 45 seconds long, and with the new dollar-a-download system of selling music, it will cost 52$ USD to download the entire I Like It When You Die Album. Whether he actually sees any of the money from Earache Records is another story. That's showbiz!


IT'S GOOD TO BE: QUARATHON - A pioneer of the Black Metal movement, Quarathon fronted the Swedish metal band Bathory; who has put out at least fifteen albums, each one starting with the trademark sounds of spooky winds, and galloping horses -- groundbreaking, simply groundbreaking. Though he denies it, despite Bathory having never once performed publicly in 20 years, Quarathon was, in fact, the entire band. He played every instrument on every track, So, literally, this guy has made a 20-year career out of playing with himself. He's the Dave Grohl of Black Metal. My first exposure to Bathory was in the late 80's. While in high school, I convinced my parents to give me a ride to the mall so I could buy metal albums. I saw the second Bathory album, The Return, looking really evil on the rack. I bought it, even though I had never heard Bathory before, but I was tripping my balls off on acid at the time. When I got home I put the album on and listened to it through my headphones. At some point during the song "Born For Burning", I became convinced I was actually possessed by Lucifer. I hid the record under my bed, and prayed to God that The Devil would release me from his bestial grip. Some might say this was an unpleasant experience, but, shit, that's what music is supposed to do - MAKE YOU FEEL SOMETHING. Kudos on that, Quarathon!



My list was written for a perfect world, which, we know by now, it is not. Instead of cooling in the Escalade, having the finest stores shut down for shopping sprees, or strolling into an awards show with some A-List bitch in tow, all of the members of JOHN'S: IT'S GOOD TO HAVE A DRIVEN FABULOUS LIFE are most likely somewhere saying:


"Sir, would you like me to super-size your order?"


If you have read this far, please flush a $20 bill down the toilet.