How does Perez Hilton qualify for mention on this Gex X-centric blog? Well, he doesn’t. By some demarcation lines he may fall into the supposed age-ranges that constitute Generation X, but since I’m mostly in agreement with Douglas Coupland who has explained that X is more a way of looking at the world than it is about when you were born, I’m going to refuse to except the fat, dumpy fuck is an Xer. Just take a look at Perez’s website and it is obvious that he is a Millenial/Gen Yer as aptly and ironically described by Jeff Gordinier in his very cool book X Saves the World (http://www.jeffgordinier.com/). Perez’s whole existence is vacous, pathetic worship of celebrity. It doesn’t matter which celebrity, any will do, because the person is not important, that they are celebrity is, though, and that is all that is important to Perez. He’d be thousand times less pathetic if his blog were in worship of some particular celebrity, content in praise of so-and-so’s work, accomplishments, nice ass, whatever. But Perez’s interest do not run that deep. His interest is with Celeberity itself. With Fame itself. The people who have the unfortunate experience of being plastered on his web site are simply vassals (as opposed to vessels, although that analogy probably works too). For this guy, Celebrity is like porn (sorry, I don’t really want the image of that freak boy whacking off to People Magazine either, but it’s difficult to avoid). The person doesn’t matter — what they are doing in the moment does, though. Which begs the question: Why am I bloggin about this asshole?
Well, because yesterday someone I know who does read Perez Hilton sent me a link to his site because he’d posted pics of Joan Jett, and anyone who knows me well knows that I love Joan Jett. I have always loved Joan Jett. I will always love Joan Jett. You can never tear us apart. So don’t even fucking try. She’s smoking hot!She’s an amazing musician! She’s got a punk attitude so sexy it gives me a chubby just thinking about it. And I know what you’re thinking, what you want to say — But dude, she’s a lezbo. Everybody knows that. Well, in fact, everybody does not know that. Joan Jett has never confirmed nor denied her sexual… whatever. She doesn’t feel a need to. She even comes right out and says that because of what she does as a musician and performer, to aknowledge any sexual preference would ruin the magic she tries to create while on stage. She wants everyone, gals and guys, to feel as if she’s singing directly to them. And how cool is that? I’ll tell you how cool. Very cool. It is very cool. The point is she shouldn’t have to confirm or deny. Hack, so-called journalists can ask but she simply does not have to answer. I admire and respect her for that, for avoding plastering her personal life all over the public bullitienboard in a time when that all people seem to want to do.
(In case you need it explained, Joan Jett is very Gen X, very 80s. It is her attitude and her style, as much as when she was born and when she first came onto the scene with her second band, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. For those of you who don’t know her first band was The Runaways, and all-chick metal band from the late 70s that also included Lita Ford, which Joan joined when she was just 16.)
But of course assholes like Perez Hilton seem to feel it is their duty to publicly bully someone like Joan Jett into “coming out” because why? Not because people have the right to know — this isn’t news, Perez isn’t a journalist providing the public with imporant and necessary information about how to live their lives. And not because it would be helpful for others like her – yeah, we know their are lesbians, but the don’t require Joan Jett’s support and approval, although she no doubt woold give it to them. But because the Perez’s of the world just assume that there is no longer such a thing as privacy, that anyone should be able to know anything about anyone else, that everyone should no everything about everyone else. Bull! Shit!
Joan Jett’s real fans, her true fans, of which I am one, do not care if she is a lesbian or bisexual or straight or whatever. That simply does not matter. If we were her friends or family, perhaps it would matter, perhaps we might have a right to know, but we are not her friends or family, we are just fans, we love her music, what she does, we don’t love her, not really, we can’t because we don’t know her. And she is under no obligation to let us know everything about her. That is her right. And it is our responsiblility to fuck off and afford her her rights.
And here’s a scoop for you — Perez doens’t give a shit about whether Joan Jett is a lesbian or not either. It’s just fodder for his shit blog! If you can’t see that, if you haven’t figured that out, then your every bit as pathetic as he is. More so, since he’s at least getting some cash out of the deal. And fame too, if you find that imporant. And I’m guess that you do.
Of course, I don’t know Perez Hilton. I couldn’t possibly. There is no such person. His real name is Mario Lavandeira. Yeah, I’d probably consider changing my name too if I shared one with a Nintendo video game character. But on second thought, maybe I wouldn’t. It might actually be kind of cool. Anyway, we all know that’s not the real reason he changed his name. It’s because deep down in side Mario knows, just knows, that what he really is is a beautiful starlet trapped in sharpey-faced, pastey-assed, hobbit-like body. He’s not really the ugly, frump you see before you. He’s really Paris Hilton! And some day the whole world shall know it.
That in and of itself does not make him a hypocrite. It makes him sad and pathetic, but not a hypocrite. What does make him a hypocrite, a mega-hypocrite, is his law suite against another blogger. Check it out on smoking gun.
Specifically what is hypocritical is Perez’s claim that because of the person he is suing he, Perez/Mario, has ”suffered loss of his reputation, shame and mortification” and “mental anguish.” Wah wah wah. You have got to be kidding me. This is exactly the kind of shit the Mario peddles in. He’s a professional shit-talker. And make no mistake, he is a pro now, making money from this bullshit. He’s not some obscure little blogger anymore. And that’s fine. That’s great. That is the American way, when no talent, sunstanceless disphits like Mario can change their name, move to LA and make a million doing something that is pretty much useless. Just because. But now he’s in it. He’s big time baby, and as such he better get used to the pyrrah fucks like he once was, and pretty much still is in a way if you think about it, feeding at the trough of his fame. That’s right, you got the fame you always wanted, Mario. Now shut the fuck up and deal with it.
I got no sympathy for the dude. Not after he’s attack on Rock Goddess, Joan Jett. For that alone that prick deserves a bitch slapping in every and all forms.
I tell you what I’d love to see happen. I’d love to raise a pool of money and award to the first person who public plasters Mario in the face with it. Or better, get him drunk, waits until he passes out and has something like “I’m a sad little girl” tattooed on his forehead. Or maybe just “Pariah” or even maybe “Hi. My Name is Mario” on this chest, you know, where the nametag goes when… you get.