Forgotten Sleep

Okay, I get it. Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie and Jennifer Aniston are uber-attractive people. They’re rich. They’re famous. They were once involved in the hottest love triangle, infidelity-gossip trip in Hollywood.

But can someone explain to me why every time I click on CNN, I see another story about the supposed rift growing between the actor-blob currently know as Brangelina or a story detailing that Jennifer Aniston has renovated her house to make it unfriendly to men? What, now Brangelina is suing the British tabloid responsible for the rumors of their supposed split?

I don’t see why I’m supposed to care. Perhaps someone out there can explain it to me.

Have we gotten to the point in our daily lives that we are either so bored with our own circumstances or so overwhelmed with our own plights that we actually consider these “stories” to be news. Do we feel informed in some way after reading them?

Personally, I feel like I want to bathe. Am I the only one who feels like a voyeur when reading stories that describe the physical passion evident between two people or how the one left behind has decorated her home in a way that would make any man wilt? Oi!

Yes, yes, I know that it’s truly hypocritical of me. There’s no way for me to know the contents of the articles unless I’m reading them myself. When it’s the first thing you see on a Web site when you click on it, it’s rather hard to ignore. But even that fact bolsters my point — no one would be reading them if journalists would stop treating the personal lives of celebrities as fodder for page 1, “above-the-fold” content.

Basically, what it comes down to is this: we no longer only look to celebrities to provide a product that we find entertaining. We expect them to be the entertainment — as if their lives were a show for us to watch, critique and judge. When did we decide that it was okay to delve into peoples’ personal lives simply because we all know their names?

With stories about the crisis in Haiti or the dilemma over healthcare waiting to be told, I cannot understand why Internet space, air time or ink is devoted to what should be relegated to the tabloid pages in the grocery store check-out aisle. Is anyone manning the managing editor’s desk?

So, to CNN or any other mainstream, “professional” media outlet, here is my message: Unless you’re willing to give me a bottle of Tylenol with your next story on Brangelina’s latest kid or Jennifer Aniston’s wall paper, re-think the story before you hit “Publish.”