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Had my eye on
Hollywood last night, thanks to that must-be-TV show Access
Hollywood. This is the you-don’t-have-cable-or-a-life
late night TV that I’ve been waiting for all my days.
Never mind pathetic Pat O'Brien, or reports that Melanie
Griffith’s back in treatment (after inflating her lips
and breasts like a blow-up doll to keep Antonio B. happy,
drugs are the only solution). Never mind Ahnold’s arm
decor (whoops, wife) Maria Shriver, and her sunken hollow
cheeks looking like she just escaped Auschwitz. Thinner
is the winner. Go ask any Super Model, or, Esther Canadas,
the reason I accessed Hollywood at 2:00 AM. And there she
was, sucking face in a soon-to-be-released Pepsi product
commercial. Talk about lips, Melanie, you poor, aging, spin-dry-country-club
wash-out.
But what’s really sad is not that Melanie’s bubble
burst, or Maria’s dying to be thin, but someday even
Esther must hang up her lips and go quietly into the closet
of forgotten clothes hangers. While Griffith, Geena Davis,
Goldie Hawn et al. keep coming back in ever more pedestrian
excuses for entertainment, Esther’s face should never
leave our view. Tyra Banks, Naomi Campbell, Kathy Ireland,
Kate Moss and company, there ought to be something worthwhile
for the aging Super Model to step into when she walks off
the runway. As I gaze upon this year’s beauty pageant
cum Marx Brother’s Monkey Business, otherwise
known as the election that would not die, I’m thinking:
Why not a Super Model for President? What earthly difference
in the corporate media scheme of things can it possibly
make if the puppet, er, president, has any political experience?
~Those
world leaders are all bad boys that wanna be spanked by
a cigar wielding Super Model President standing taller than
the Empire State.
Who wouldn’t want to vote in the phony, scripted who-wants-to-be-a-president
elections if Esther Canadas was running against Tyra Banks?
And after she’s crowned, whoops, elected, imagine the
skyrocketing ratings for the State Of The Union Address.
More like, what about her, a, dress, heh, heh. I’m
serious as a hand recount—something I do every night
recounting love lost with my left hand. Can’t you see
Naomi Campbell, who’s already mastered the art of abusing
her aides, as the Republican Beauty Contestant, vs. Kate
Moss, pretending to stand for the Lilliputians as the Democratic
candidate. Sunday morning, and there they are locking eye
shadow on This Week with Sam Donaldson.
Donaldson: “Miss Campbell, what do you propose
as a long term solution for Social Security?”
Campbell: “I think old people need to die-off
to make room for youth and beauty. But I do think they should
all be given soup, lots of soup for their tired toothless
mouths to swallow while they watch me Rule! on TV.”
Donaldson: “Thankyou for your insightful remarks,”
turning to Kate Moss.
Ms. Moss: “Wait a second. Old people can’t
help it that they lived so long they went and got all decrepit.
And soup? Who needs soup? Old people need cable TV so they
can all watch me and plenty of milk for their brittle breaking
bones.”
And Esther, well, she could run for anything. Senator from
New York sounds like a good place for her to start. Hillary
wouldn’t stand a chance against her in 2006, right
around the time Esther would be retiring. Never mind that
she’s from Spain. If war-not-peace Dick Cheney can
switch his residence from Texas to Wyoming one month before
the Republican convention (Constitution forbids both the
president and vp being elected from the same state) then
Esther can become a US citizen whenever it suits her political
ambitions.
Running on a platform should be no problem for Super Models
cum Super Candidates. After all, they’re all used to
runway poses on platforms... shoes, that is. Americans hate
short presidents. Ask Dukakis or Humphrey. And Super Models,
who start at 5’ 8” and go up, will be looking
very presidential at six foot plus, when you factor in the
mandatory 4” heel. That gets my meaningful vote every
time.
But what would the Super Model platform look like? Esther
might say: “An Abglide (TM) in every home; lower lipstick
prices; tax relief at the pump for those poor, oppressed
SUV drivers; free bottled water; free Tibet; and a moratorium
on any future Richard Gere movies or Richard Simmons appearances
on the Tonight Show... and Keith Richards still has the
best blow!” Thankyou Esther.
Imagine the renewed US diplomatic dominance (playing to
the delusion Nation/States actually do matter) sending in
our leader, Esther Canadas, instead of our clown, George
Dubya, to disperse some Middle Eastern crisis. Those long,
silky presidential legs sliding out of the stretch limo
in Tel Aviv, Arafat would not only lay down his arms, but
lie down on the Persian rug praying Esther and the US of
A might walk all over him. Those world leaders are all bad
boys that wanna be spanked by a cigar wielding Super Model
President standing taller than the Empire State.
The Super Model is yet another creation of American Ingenuity
that has circled the globe. Yet, their lifespan is so fleeting
and the whims of Massman so ATD impaired, we must harvest
the political capital of these mighty Redwoods now! Why
not invite them to wield their fierce fashion power in the
only beauty contest that matters: Politics. Rather than
worshiping the scale, they could all be weighing in on the
scales of justice from Congress to the Whitehouse, giving
us all succulent thick-lipped sound bytes to soothe us and
send us to bed. If Super Models were competing for president
today, we wouldn't be asking for a recount. We would be
demanding more replays of their close-ups. And waiting for
the next Super Model President to breathlessly sing “Happy
Birthday America” on the Fourth of July. It’s
all so Prima Facia Fascist, it makes my nutsack ooze dead
soldiers.
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