Where the Misinformed Go To Get Their Misinformation

I admit it. Call me a News Junkie. If there’s a nuclear holocaust out there I want to be among the first to know of it. This is why I’ve dropped Rachel, Keith and Farid. Never mind the N.Y.Times, Huff Post or News Hour. Since I put a high value on being an informed citizen I can’t resist the allure of the tabloids at the check stand. I’ve come to depend on the National Enquirer, Star and Globe to fill in the gaping holes in my understanding of geo-politics and the existential issues of our times. One needs to keep abreast with the stories behind the headlines in case an invitation comes for a cocktail party or I’m trapped in a crowded elevator during a power failure.

The long lines at the market for party shopping have given me a chance to discover that Michelle is still seething over Hillary’s remarks during the primaries and Bill feels snubbed by Barack. Who would have guessed that after our president asked Clinton to the White House and handed him the podium where he had to be reminded that he didn’t live there anymore?

Who knew such Shakespearean dramas were unfolding behind our backs. And who knew Rupert Murdoch was having such wet dreams?...Michelle as Lady MacBeth? Hillary and Bill hatching plots in a palace intrigue, raising a junta for a coup?... trampling where the grapes of wrath are stored?

Tabloid writers are the fabulists in our midst. Their fevered fictions keep the witch’s brew stirring and smoking. And it keeps the Birthers looking to Kenya or Indonesia for the secret document that proves Obama is not one of us. Maybe they should try Krypton. Sorry, wrong myth.

Only they have entre into the underbelly of America with access to messages from dead Kennedys. Tabloid reporters are at bedside for all last words uttered. Nobody dies alone.In fact nobody dies. Celebrities are assured of an even more sensational afterlife. And if you weren’t a household name above ground there’s still a chance. A frozen baby was interviewed from a cabin of the Titanic. Half a mermaid was discovered in a tuna fish sandwich.

From cemeteries to inter-galactic messages they have their antennae at the ready. How else can we track visitations from folks living in anti-matter. They may be quarks to us but they are just home boys to the Tabloids.

There they are at every register between the candy bars and latest diet plan eager to share their version of the Zeitgeist. We would be well-informed to sneak a peek into the cauldron of contorted factoids where rumors are hatched from minds that can't keep themselves out of dirt.