The Spectacle

We all love them, don't we? Spectacles?
The Big Game. The Last Episode. The New Movie.
The Spectacle.
Since the dawn of time humans have been drawn to them.
Fire. Attractive Caveperson. Hairy Beast Good to Eat.
We're drawn to spectacles like cavemoth to the flame.
Car Wrecks. Hockey Fights. St. Patty's Day Parade. So many people to fight through, but it doesn't matter. You're THERE.
I don't even watch LOST, but I watched the series finale the other night.
And I'm glad I did. Because I love spectacles.
I'll go outta my way to view the Spectacle. Why? It's because that's what we are trained to do.
We pay attention to anything and everything 'NEW and Important.'
Think about it. What comes on TV every night?
The News does. Not the Olds.
New stuff makes headlines. Someone dies. Something burns. Police Chief Hodgkins fumes up at City Council debate. Superintendant PeiWei confiscates rifle from Janitor Richards.
Something becomes news-worthy. Worthy of news.
And now thanks to Facebook, we can relish in even more saucy flops by the minute in what I like to call, the 'Un-News.'
Jim 'likes' dolphins. Bobby wants to 'dance like nobody's watching.' Sue thinks the green socks will go, like, great with her new leggings. Butch just 'tamed some Taco Bell.'
Huh? Nobody cares. We, for the most part, make a lot of Un-News.
I sneezed. Whoops. Better alert the Facebook immediately. Talk about Big Brother, 1984. We're willingly giving an organization a play by play of our entire lives, and the best part?
We LIKE to.
Hey, guilty as charged, by the way. I've done my fair share of Un-News status update sharings on the FBeeski.
Last week I had a surgery on my Voke to slice off Mr. Nodge who was tickling my shish and makin' the baby wheezey.
To me, it was big News. But to the layman, it was Un-News.
'Harder had surgery on his what? Pffff, who cares, pass the brownie.'
And that's why I call it the 'Un-NewsFeed.'
Facebook presents the 'Un-NewsFeed.' Zuckerburg, if you take that, you owe me a jet, you selfish son of a--
But here's where the problem lies, and this is a fear that's been keeping me up all night, every night for the past 11 days----ready?
Even the Un-News is News now.
Spectacles are everywhere. They're simply everywhere.
And if everything's a Spectacle, guess what?
Nothing is. Absolutely nothing.
I remember a children's book called 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf,' and that's what I've been lying awake at nighttime thinking about, tossing and turning in a sexy puddle of my own man-sweat.
Just worrying about that one poor schmuck that cries Wolf all day long, and the second they actually see that Wolf and he's about to bite their dumb head off and they cry 'WOOOOLLLF' at the top of their dumb wolf-crying lungs, guess what?
I'm over here thumbing through my 'Un-NewsFeed' on FB and listening to the Temptations sing about their Girl, completely oblivious.
Their singular girl, btw. It was all the same girl, you know. That was the reason they broke up. Her name was Yoko Ono.
Hey, that might make some good Un-News. I better post that.