Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Turning down the heat

“It’s Joost, really, really.” And? So what if it is?

“But he’s a role model, the public deserves to know!” Kak. He’s a Supersport commentator and ex rugby player that stopped playing when Julius was still attempting school.

If he was the current Springbok captain there may be some mild interest from my side. . . but only mild, really – because much like Michael Phelps and the hordes of other athletes caught doing something naughty in a dark corner, it really, really, REALLY doesn’t matter.

I find it rich, anyway, for the media to make a go of this since anyone who’s been at a few media/advertising parties knows that there are many-many things that go bump in the night. So let’s not pretend we’ve got some moral authority to reveal to the nation the so-called “truth”.
For the record: I don’t think it’s Joost and, frankly, I find the footage offered thus far rather disappointing.

Show me photos of George Bush snogging Osama bin Laden in their secret love cave, or Danny K tearing up a dance floor to the latest Boere-sokkie-treffer. Invite me to a screening of piss-poorly shot home movies featuring a butt naked Eugene Terreblanche and Jacob Zuma, dancing around a fire singing a drunken mixture of Umshini Wam and “Ryperd”, or amaze me with images of Carl Niehaus telling the truth and / or taking it like a man.

Rare finds, sure, but if Elvis can be spotted working at a McDonalds and if skinheads believe Hitler lives, then it must be out there.

British tabloids at least have the decency to offer Prince Harry in his best Gestapo party gear, or F1 boss, Max Mosley, taking part in a swastika-laden sadomastic sexfest, with not just one, boring old local wannabee porn lady, but five.

FIVE… Now THAT makes an impact. That’s doing it the right way if you ask me. Skandaal really only is fun if it’s done on a grandiose scale. Showing some dude that looks like Joost entertaining one lone soul… and then not even really due to epic libido failure, is just sub-par. You may as well attempt to sell Paris Hilton’s movie to me on VHS or offer me exclusive photos of Steve Hofmeyr banging a fan backstage.

I think we deserve, nay – I think we should demand a higher standard of sauce from our purveyors of gossip. This latest effort smacks of Huisgenoot in the late 80’s or, even worse, Huisegenoot, this week.

Thankfully only people of certain limited intellectual abilities are affected by this dramatic lack of standard on a weekly bases.

Aren’t we lucky?

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