Failure of the Day: The Annual Running of the Millionaires
I love TV. People at work are always surprised by that because I am all literary and arty and junk, but I get all PoMo on their asses and tell them that a distinction between high culture and low culture is bullshit, man, and I’m not down with it. Really though, it’s that I like crap as much as I like art, and I like watching America’s Next Top Model as much as I like watching Sports Night. It’s not that I don’t know that one is objectively better, it’s that I don’t care.
Anyhoo, consuming the culture as I do, it strikes me that February as the month when we all pass the time by racing our rich people. We start the month with The Running of the Big Millionaires, and we end it with The Running of the Little Millionaires.
I like the Running of the Big Millionaires because watching enormous men hurl themselves with complete abandon at the earth and each other pleases me. And I have a taste for spectacle anyway—communal nonreligious events of a certain magnitude draw my attention and actually manage to hold it, even when I don’t give a shit about the event or the outcome. Plus I totally dominated my post-season fantasy league, which consisted of Chris and me. But still, I TOTALLY DOMINATED it.
The Running of the Little Millionaires is more entertaining to me because they all wear itty bitty outfits that really show off how little they are, and everyone is all excited about the outfits. And even though you can’t really shake the feeling that everyone has just vomited, the whole thing is still very shiny and diaphanous. Watching it reminds me of the old Haunted Mansion ride in Disneyland, when you go past the mirrors that show ghosts sitting right next to you. There’s not anything right next to you, but it really really looks like there is, and if you can see it, it has to be at least a little bit true. And I don’t care who wins these races either, but I’ll watch them run because it’s cold outside and February for christ sake, and what the hell else is there to do?
Anyhoo, consuming the culture as I do, it strikes me that February as the month when we all pass the time by racing our rich people. We start the month with The Running of the Big Millionaires, and we end it with The Running of the Little Millionaires.
I like the Running of the Big Millionaires because watching enormous men hurl themselves with complete abandon at the earth and each other pleases me. And I have a taste for spectacle anyway—communal nonreligious events of a certain magnitude draw my attention and actually manage to hold it, even when I don’t give a shit about the event or the outcome. Plus I totally dominated my post-season fantasy league, which consisted of Chris and me. But still, I TOTALLY DOMINATED it.
The Running of the Little Millionaires is more entertaining to me because they all wear itty bitty outfits that really show off how little they are, and everyone is all excited about the outfits. And even though you can’t really shake the feeling that everyone has just vomited, the whole thing is still very shiny and diaphanous. Watching it reminds me of the old Haunted Mansion ride in Disneyland, when you go past the mirrors that show ghosts sitting right next to you. There’s not anything right next to you, but it really really looks like there is, and if you can see it, it has to be at least a little bit true. And I don’t care who wins these races either, but I’ll watch them run because it’s cold outside and February for christ sake, and what the hell else is there to do?
posted by Nancy @ 1:37 PM
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