I watched the premiere of "Rachael Ray at Home" this morning. Her house burned down in August after the conclusion of her summer at-home, due to quarantine, shows. Just prior to the end of the summer shows, “tragically” her old, rescued dog Izaboo died.
Actor and Rachael’s friend Dennis Leary, administrator of a fire department first responder program, was on today’s show, sometimes grinning maniacally, soliciting funding for his foundation in conjunction with the fire. Rachael and John, her husband (a terrible musician in my opinion, who plays on the show), are associated with Leary’s program.
Supposedly, this fire started due to creosote in their chimney, which sent sparks flying to the roof. Rachael reported that, responsibly, they have cleaned the chimney in the 14-year-old house twice yearly. I have had chimneys and that is exceedingly responsible, in my experience. It seems inconceivable to me that creosote could have caused this fire, but who knows? Stuff happens. Maybe the wood back East is pitchier.
In this often fake-seeming world, do you people believe all of this (potential) baloney we are fed on television and in the press? It seems that much money is made through tragedies and poignant descriptions of them. From children’s hospitals that feature children with disabilities who seem like actors, to the multiple horrific-seeming recent incidents of police brutality involving black victims, to natural disasters and the associated tear-jerking fallout, to the heroes and horror stories of COVID-19, to politicians’ ads featuring their perfect families.
Do you ever wonder if we (at least some of us) survived Armageddon and this exaggerated bunch of contrived drama is all that’s left to inspire pathos, revenue and perpetuate illegitimate power and narcissism?
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