Not heard from: Bill Cosby. He’s somewhere chewing on a pipe going, “That sonuvabitch. He stole my idea for a movie. He stole my Christmas Sweater.” Not to worry, Bill. Because more people are going to read this article than will actually see the Christmas Sweater.
How many tickets did Glenn Beck sell? 17. That’s right 17, in the markets of New York and Boston. You could go to New York or Boston and sell 17 of anything you could find in your closet, but apparently Beck can’t get more people than that to sit down and listen to him talk about redemptive tales of redemption. Or fluffy items of clothing. What’s the story like?
Apparently, it’s a thinly veiled account of the events of Beck’s own life. Like, very thinly. And he wails and cries, and expels a tremendous amount of sweat to stay bouyant.
Basically, Glenn Beck tells a story about his mother getting into a car crash, and the effect that it had on his life, and then he goes back and says that it didn’t really happen, it was all a dream, and then appears again to say that it wasn’t a dream, it actually happened, the powers that be wanted to tone it down. Also, he cries a lot, speaks in stereotyped voices, and is set to an orchestra. Isn’t it awesome when life constructs for you situations more ridiculous than anything that should exist?
Tickets are 20 bucks, if you can afford to splurge. Also, what a goddamn tagline. “Experience the intimate journey of transformation through the simple gift of redemption.” See that? It’s how you say nothing by saying a lot.
Comments
Joanne Wroe
December 13th, 2009 - 1:41:52 AM
Does it hurt being that jealous?
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