Forgive me if this entry sort of jumps topics abruptly now and again. I�m trying very hard to get into a routine, inasmuch as updating is concerned, but it�s hard. I work nights now, and my goal is to get in, put my nose to the grindstone and really get my shit done as quickly as possible so I can get home and get to bed early enough that I don�t waste the entire next day trying to catch up on my sleep. So far, it has worked out, but the tradeoff is that I can�t spend a lot of time working on my journal entries. Sigh. Life is a game of sacrifice, I suppose. And sometimes you end up being a teacher and only getting a Pay Day of $20,000, and you�d better hope you land on the square that says you write a novel or your uncle leaves you a prizewinning racehorse, because your sister lucked out and became a scientist and she�s getting $50,000 for each Pay Day she lands on and she�s kicking your ass but good at this.
Funny how real life imitates our childhood games, isn�t it?
Anyway. The other day, I watched an interview for Relationship-Based Reality Show, and became incensed with rage by the ineptitude of the interviewer. Having watched dozens of these things now in the few weeks of my employ here, I feel qualified to assess the execution of these and pass judgment on the participants. This may make you question me on what it was that made me qualified to judge people in the past, and all I can say in my defense is�shut up.
In any event, I was forced to sit through a tape in which The Worst Interviewer Ever wasted thirty-five minutes of a fifty minute interview on two questions. I�m not kidding. Worst. Interviewer. Ever. The first fifteen minutes were spent asking the subject his thoughts and opinions on the events thus far as they had occurred, and that part was fine. Then, fifteen more minutes were spent trying to pressure the subject into talking shit about one of his fellow contestants. A) Not cool. B) Fifteen minutes?? Seriously? After you�ve asked the same fucking question three times in a row with the subject not only refusing to talk shit, but in fact moving counter to your purpose and beginning to glow effusively about your intended target, you would do well to TAKE THE HINT.
Not so our intrepid interviewer, who persevered for ten more minutes with insightful, penetrating questions, such as, �Well I disagree,� and �I don�t understand.� Wow. That really blew it wide open. Please, Barbara, don�t make me cry in front of Hugh Downs!
As if that wasn�t stupid enough, when she finally got the message that this guy wasn�t going to suddenly pull a 180 and begin bitching incessantly, she moved on. To trying to get him to talk shit about a different cast member, for something even less compelling than the first issue. And she chased this particular wild goose for another twenty minutes, following up each of her subject�s confused claims of admiration for his fellow contestants with pearl-clutchers like, �But I just don�t get it,� and, �But that doesn�t make sense to me.�
�I don�t get it,� while a meta statement for her approach to what she does for a living, is not a good question. Hell, it isn�t even a question, period! It is an independent statement that invites a response only if the person you�re directing it to feels impelled to clarify himself. Plus, it doesn�t direct the subject to offer any new information, which is why I was stuck observing twenty minutes of one guy repeating the same damn thing over and over again, fumbling to rephrase himself, as if that�s what the problem was. That wasn�t what the problem was. The problem was that his interviewer sucked turd.
So I guess that didn�t jump all over the place like I thought it would, but still. Thanks for bearing with me while I get my bearings over here.
Tune in next time, when I address the burning question, �Well, that�s just stupid.�Someone Got Here By Searching For: lisa loeb contact lenses I�m Watching: Lost, and loving every minute. Well, almost every minute. The commercials do nothing for me. And: Manhunt, which continues to be less interesting than America�s Next Top Model.
A Year Ago, I Said:
No one understands hand signals anymore. Well, they understand a couple, I guess, but neither of those particular hand signals mean �left� or �right�, if you catch my drift.
The Turning of the Screwed
10-29-2003