notes from the outer edge of the galaxy

real beauty

i have a bad habit of drinking too many caffeinated beverages during the day and into the evening. if i keep the coffee confined to before about 4 p.m. and only drink one cup of tea in the evening, i can sleep. but often, i do not abide by my own rules and so i'm up late. and i actually like it that way, what can i say? last night was oscar night, so it meant i could stay awake for a bit of the red carpet (the show didn't start til 3 a.m. here, and it wasn't THAT bad).

there was a time in my life when i'd always seen all of the films nominated for best picture. i could recognize the stars on the red carpet and i had opinions about who should win (i was almost never right about who actually did win). i'm no longer that person. i had heard of black swan but not seen it. and hadn't even heard of many of the other films, let alone the actors and actresses involved. (slight digression here: why is the word actress still ok but we can't use seamstress?)

so i watched the red carpet coverage on TV2 film (they apparently had a live feed from what i think was ABC - i was a little sad not to see joan rivers' catty assessment, but those rights apparently weren't bought in denmark). since i knew so little, it was a bit like watching from another planet. or at the very least like being from another planet.

and from that perspective, it's a strange spectacle. rail thin women with tightly stretched faces and plumped up lips in beautiful but ultimately unwearable-looking uncomfortable dresses walking down a red bit of cloth, cameras snapping away. stopped here and there by mannequin-like presenters who ask vapid, empty questions about how they're feeing and how their peers might be feeling. aside from being somewhat pleasing to the eye (that red archival valentino anne hathaway wore was stunning), it all seemed like much ado about nothing. peacocks on parade, empty of meaning and genuineness and well, reality.

i do realize it's not meant to be real and it is on another level entirely, somewhere up in the clouds, where mere mortals never tread. but the whole spectacle of it is odd - especially the "reporters" there on the scene, grabbing the stars for a quick but formulaic chat - try to make "news" out of something that is, as yet, in its pre-ceremony state, not news. pretending to care about feelings, but mostly caring about who designed the dress and jewelry and in many instances, clearly more about the "reporter" getting to pose for the cameras with someone they'd otherwise never even get close to.

what is with the obsession reporters have with feelings? "how do you feel? "how do the best actress nominees feel?" "how does your dog feel?" "is your dog wearing versace?" "what were you thinking getting an orange dress?" "don't you have a stylist?" "does your stylist hate you?" ok, granted, those last few questions were the ones i asked in my head.

i blame CNN for this. or rather the whole concept of 24 hour news. it gives us this odd pantomime that we must be subjected to before the news actually happens. the build up, the feelings, the empty interviews - because you can't have content when nothing has actually happened yet. but you still have to fill air time. and apparently they take "air" seriously and fill it with a whole lot of hot air.

it all leaves me feeling quite fortunate to be residing on a remote planet these days.