There are any number of celebrities, pseudo-celebrities, and other assorted lebrities these days who are so harmlessly annoying that they’re beyond mockery. Beyond caring about, even in an ironic way. Every time I come across the exploits of this group, I want to sing Paul Anka’s song from a long-ago Treehouse of Horror:
Lisa: Hey, Springfield! Are you suffering from the heartbreak of … Monster-itis? Then take a tip from Mr. Paul Anka!
Paul Anka: To stop those monsters, one-two-three, Here’s a fresh new way that’s trouble-free. It’s got Paul Anka’s guarantee…
Lisa: [singing] Guarantee void in Tennessee.
Together: [singing] Just don’t look. Just don’t look.
[people turn away; the monsters turn to look]
Just don’t look. Just don’t look.
[more people turn away]
Just don’t look. Just don’t look.
[the monsters try to destroy things faster, but start collapsing]
Julia Allison is one of those people. If you don’t know who Julia Allison is, well done, and don’t start reading Gawker. (I myself now skip all Gawker posts about Allison and Atoosa Rubenstein.)
The more I see that being a part of the New York media world apparently means having to care (or pretend not to care) about stuff like this mediabistro profile of Allison (via The Plank), kal v’chomer am I glad I’m moving to D.C. instead.
I realize this post isn’t doing anything to ignore Ms. Allison. But consider it the first in a series about the modern media-celeb equivalents of the Lard Lad Donut and Duff Beer Cowboy monsters. Maybe if we can get enough people singing the “Just Don’t Look!” song when these folks pop up, then eventually Gawker et. al. will be blogging to an empty room.
Korr Values 