Celebrities have become the center of worship for many

With the recent coronation of the Terminator in California, I’m forced to confront my disdain for what many call the “cult of personality.”

Unlike most cults that at least promise some kind of complimentary housing, meal plan or hair cut, the only thing offered by this one is a guarantee you’ll always feel ugly, boring and inferior.

Although Conan the Barbarian’s rise to real power was the proverbial last straw, there are some other factors that explain my disaffection: I’ve probably seen too much TV over the years, and “Seinfeld” in syndication was replaced by some crappy tabloid.

I took the 30 minutes I now have from 7:30 to 8 p.m. and hatched an epiphany. I realized that I see Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez on accident more than I see my own parents on purpose. I noticed that every time Russell Crowe dumps beer on a bouncer in Sydney or snarls at someone who wants an autograph in L.A., the “news” is in my brain before the cuffs go on.

MTV and VH1 have become perhaps the most solid proof that people would rather be vicariously beautiful (plastic), stylish (spectacles) and camera friendly (vapid bozos) than see artfully produced video interpretations of great music.

I’m sure many of you are saying, “Hey, Dave, why don’t you just change the channel” — or,

“Unlike most cults that at least promise some kind of complimentary housing, meal plan or hair cut,
the only thing offered by this one is a guarantee you’ll always feel ugly, boring and inferior.”

“Get a life and turn it off” — or yet still, “What’s wrong with a little glitz and glamour?” Some people besides me might reply, “Why don’t you go back to playing with your Jennifer Aniston doll and kissing your Keanu Reeves poster,” or even, “People like you are the reason the only show I really enjoy got canceled, you jerk.”

Not me though. I do enjoy spirited intellectual repartee as much as the next guy. However, I would calmly point out to those people how the new Mr. California Bod — I mean, the new governor of California — is becoming the rule rather the exception.

Most politicians are in some way confident men. They are hucksters skilled in the prestidigitation of voter preferences. However, even the most apt politico must bow to someone that people already spend his or her time stalking through their TV sets. Campaign finance reform can’t touch a dime of the residuals from Taxi or royalties from soft drink ads.

The congregation of celebrity worship will only grow. Before long, People magazine will supplant the Congressional Record. The 24-hour news networks will go to an exciting new format. It will have an hour a day of actual news and 23+ hours of discussing Oscars-night outfits.

Exclusive footage of Russell Crowe and his blokes throttling some bartender with a didgeridoo will pre-empt a State of the Union address being delivered by our commander in chief Hulk Hogan. If California taught us anything, maybe it’s that the leaders of the cult will soon become the U.S. Congress.

Dave Brock is a columnist for the Kentucky Kernel at the University of Kentucky.
This column was distributed by U-Wire.