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On junk food for the soul
As I sit here to write this, the TV is on. Not only is it on, Keeping up with the Kardashians is showing. I guess that just made me lose any remaining credibility, didn't it?
I keep trying to figure out why. Why do I even enjoy this show? Why do I look forward to new episodes of Top Chef, if in fact most of their cooking involves meat? Why do I sing along to chart topping songs?
Don't get me wrong, I am not about to say these are the devil's and propose we throw our TVs out and ban the radio charts. I (no longer) think less of people who live for this stuff. Now I just feel sad for them. And the sadness includes my own junk food for the soul.
That is the only thing I can call it. Why? Because I watch the Kardashians because they are pretty gazillionaries and I can think about what would my million dollar house look like. Because watching a professional chef be stripped from his dignity for a mistake on a plate makes me feel less of a cooking failure. Because I catch myself singing about someone else playing games and always winning while I set fire to the rain (what is that about, anyway?) while I am happily married.
So just like McDonald's french fries and Krispy Kreme donuts, I have to fight the urge. I know if feels good for a minute. I know it has something in it that make me addicted. But deep down, I know it does not feed me. On the contrary, it only makes me crave more and more, until it shows its ugliness as I look in the mirror.
Does the fact that I have a Pop culture love Pinterest board mean
something more than a healthy amusement with this? Hmmm...
