Irrepressible post-Watergate nostalgists, don’t miss out on the autobiography of Gerald Ford (assuming you didn’t snap it up the first time).
Note the list of fascinating books that people buying the Ford autobiography also purchased.
They will never need Ambien.
I’d vote for the Ratsy myself, since the Razzie is short for the Golden Raspberry award. Just to try to avoid a little confusion. (Futile, I’m sure, but the ffort must be made.)
My nominations:
The dead or missing white girl of the week/month stories that pop up for no apparent reason and then stay around forever. The Aruba girl, the child beauty queen, the pregnant woman, the runaway bride – I’m extremely disturbed that due to sheer repetition I can probably give you the names of all of those people.
The science story of the week/month. Whether it’s an asteroid that may or may not hit the earth (wave as it goes by), yet more on the global warming thing, a new vitamin that may or may not lengthen my life, a food that suddenly may or may not shorten my life… I don’t give a rat’s ass.
An increase in the terror alert level. I don’t even know where to start with this one.
And add in the over-hyped celebrities and sports figures (arguably should be the same category) and dumb weather stories. Just for good measure.
I nominate the name for these awards to be The Wiggies. On preview, the Ratsies is also good. Now I’m torn.
My nomination for the Rat’s Ass Awards is stories on Unrest in the Middle East. Tell you what, news guys - let me know when the Unrest is OVER. THAT will be some seriously large news. Here’s all I need, on about a monthly basis - “People still killing each other over religion in Middle East” and on to the next story.
I feel about the same about stories regarding Africa being a horrible, disease-riddled, violent place to live with more guns than food. I don’t care any more. It’s all very, very terrible, but my carer is burned out.
And any stories about politicians.
Oh, I forgot to add - my husband says Gerald R. Ford is an American cheese sandwich on white bread with mayo that has fallen on the floor.
I may need to steal this.
How about the 'Tsass?
Well, I do care about that, because I still hear some feminists whine about how girls in ( pre college ) schools need all sorts of help, or single sex schools because males are somehow dragging them down.
Well, I care about Jolie because her adoption practices pissed off David Weber, which means she’ll never get to play Honor Harrington in any hypothetical Honorverse movie. Why non-Weber fans would care - that’s another matter.
Minor earthquakes. No, I don’t care that an earthquake just barely strong enough to knock over a box of cereal happened a hundred miles south of me.
Complaints by fundies that something offends them. Everything offends them; it’s not newsworthy.
Celebrity news claiming that < fill in the blank > is gay. Unless they are a blatant homophobe - in which case it’s the hypocrisy that’s news, not their preference - I don’t care. At all.
Milestones. Sometime fairly soon, the 3,000 American will die in Iraq, and it will be a milestone. It will be discussed, experts queried as to the significance of this milestone. #2,999 was just another futile tragedy, #3,000 was a futile tragedy. And a milestone.
And, no, I can’t tell you why this bothers me so much.
(Local Update)
I don’t give a Rat’s Ass about the guy charged with killing the friend of one of the Chicago Bears. The police news conference does not need to be the lead story on all three of the TV stations tonight. And based on the news breaks, it will be the lead story on all three of their 10:00 newscasts.
I’ll second Anna Nicole Smith, the death of her son and the paternity of her new babe, etc. etc. ad nausea. Her son’s death was a terrible tragedy, I can even see why it made the news, but DAMN! Some perspective please! Larry King alone must have done half a dozen shows on it, and her lawyer Howard Stern is distinguished from the shock jock by being “the sleazy one”- there is NO REASON to give this guy airtime. (One of the most surreal moments of the past year was when Larry King, an interviewer on a supposedly all news network, did his third or fourth or whatever [at least that many] show on Daniel Smith’s death [again, I’m sorry it happened, but HE WAS NOT A PUBLIC FIGURE AND IT’S NOT NEWSWORTHY beyond a brief mention) on the exact same night that Jon Stewart, who is a comedian hosting a comedy show on a comedy cable channel, interviewed Pervez Musharraf and asked him “where’s Osama bin Laden?”- “It’s a madhouse!”).
The “WHERE’S SURI CRUISE?” speculation. Who gives a fuck? I hope nothing’s wrong with her just as I hope nothing’s wrong with anybody’s baby but I don’t need to see her, especially on the cover page of a news magazine.
The “Mark Foley was molested by his priest when he was a kid” story. Was he really? That’s a damned shame. He also grew up to be a lecherous closeted shitbag who preyed on 16 year olds in his office and got protected by asshole friends in power who knew damned good and well what he was doing and lied about it so long as he towed the party line. I’m not convinced of any demonstrable connection between the first sentence than the fourth sentence in this paragraph so why bring it up?
Tied for Tops, though: The Trump/Rosie comedy of assholes and the “Michael Richards is a crazy racist” stories. Both were so frigging overblown that it was sickening. I loved the press conference held with the owner of the comedy club where he demanded that Richards donate $1 million to multicultural charities for each time he used a racial slur; I wanted to ask “OR YOU’LL WHAT?!” He’s a clearly deranged faded celebrity for Chrissake, not anybody who matters, and you’re a comedy club owner, not a judge, you can’t impose fines with any legal backing. Yes, I agree, Richards is a crazy asshole and crossed a line running, but the stunt backfired and completely destroyed his career [can you imagine anybody ever casting him in another show or hiring him to emcee an event again?] and that I think is enough payback= MAYBE, MAYBE I could see justification in a MODERATE settlement to the black people there at the club (not a 7 figure thing but something more symbolic than enriching) but ultimately no real harm was done. He really didn’t dig up and desecrate the body of Emmett Till or lobby to have Civil Rights reversed, he just went fucking nuts onstage, get over it everybody and PLEASE stop playing that clip, and on the Rosie/Donald thing enough’s been written already.
Huh. I live a couple of blocks away from that intersection and have never noticed that marker.
Oh, I say we call these the “Ratty” awards and I think that the statue should look like The Brain from Pinky and the Brain (yes, I know he’s a mouse, given the fucked up nature of the awards, I think it’s appropriate).
99.9999999999999~% of all sports stories. I don’t care that some player who’s being paid more per hour than I’ll probably make in my entire life is valiantly struggling against having a hang nail or something while playing or relaxing in their $80 cajillion home. Bring back gladitorial bloodsports and I’ll show an interest, otherwise, fuck off.
This or that trend which is sweeping the nation. If it’s a trend, and the mainstream media’s picked up on it, then it’s already passed it’s peak and is on it’s way out.
Celebrities that weigh 95lbs while newspapers cry how thin is too thin.
To quote George Carlin “Rich bitch won’t eat fuck em.”
Anything that has or ever will be Featured on Nancy Grace’s show. How the fuck did this woman get a tv show? This alone has killed my hope for the future of this country.
And in related news, Tony Blair has still not resigned. LIGARA.
Since the N.Y. Times is purportedly a national newspaper, one of its preoccupations should be up for a national as opposed to regional Rat’s Ass Award (Ratty or Ratsy are both fine by me).
The Times is unaccountably fascinated with the Hamptons, that Long Island playground for the wealthy and semi-famous. Every few weeks there is a major feature on the problems and challenges of those who venture there. Oh, the frustrations of trying to navigate the Hamptons in season, when riffraff from New Jersey and Brooklyn clog the roads. How difficult it is to manipulate one’s stock portfolio in order to buy that dream second home in one of the better neighborhoods.
And the overwhelming yet delicious fatigue one feels dividing one’s time amongst all those competing charity balls in the summer! One does spread oneself so thin on those occasions. And then there are the marital conflicts that arise when one spouse loves the beach, while the other prefers shopping and nightlife! What to do. (All these are actual plotlines from stories in the Times).
Message to the Times: give the goddamn Hamptons a rest.
Note: there is no jealousy involved here. We’ve got Buckeye Lake. And convenient live bait dispensers.
Like I care one jot bout the latest ‘gate’ scandal.
Every naughty thing in public life seems to have the suffix ‘gate’ attatched.
I don’t give a rat’s ass about the Durham trial. Nifong, stripper woman, Duke lacrosse members, all of 'em can go jump in the ocean already.
The story about the guy who got in trouble for impersonating a Marine…this has gotta be the strongest contender for the Ratsy. I have no idea why the hell they saw fit to put this on the news.
Playstation 3 mania also earned itself a BFD from me.
Can we just call it the Nancy Grace, or Nancy for short?
Works for me.
And todays big contender “Clone free food”
This just in: Generalissimo Franco is still dead.
And no one gives a rat’s ass.
I think Larry King could get a lifetime achievement award from the Ratsies. I occasionally watch a bit of an interview of his just for the entertainment value of watching someone desperately incompetent and completely clueless. We have a channel here that was broadcasting old Dick Cavett shows with interviews with people like Woody Allen and Alfred Hitchcock, and the comparison was absolutely striking, the difference a good interviewer makes.
Dick Cavett asked intelligent questions, and got fascinating discussions going. Larry King would have asked Alfred Hitchcock where he got his ideas. Actually, that would have been entertaining, because Alfred Hitchcock would have eaten him for breakfast.