This blog is still alive, just in semi-hibernation. When I want to write something longer than a tweet about something other than math or sci-fi, here is where I'll write it.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Throwing the jackals off the trail.
One of the biggest non-Susan Boyle stories in entertainment news right now is Mel Gibson's wife of 28 years finally getting sick of the two-timing bastard and filing for divorce. While I don't want to be put on record as being strongly pro-divorce, there are many famous Catholic men over the years who have shown no respect for their marriage vows, but knew their wives had no option but to accept the humiliation of their public philandering. I don't want to single out Gibson because I hate his politics. Spencer Tracy, a passel of Kennedys and phone sex aficianado Bill O'Reilly all belong to the club of famously unfaithful Catholics happy to humilate their long-suffering wives.
Anyway, a divorce over a near billion dollar estate certainly gets the press' attention, and what could be better than Gibson snapped in public with the home wrecker, as this picture from Costa Rica last month claims to be? Well, it would be better if the press could put a name to the face, or two be more precise, a first and last name. All that was known was she is a mystery woman named Oksana. First, the press thought she might be a Russian pianist, but the woman in question denied it. Then, a Russian pop singer named Oksana claimed to be the woman in question and the press ran with that, but this Oksana was lying for the attention. Now, the press thinks they have it right with Oksana Grigorieva, Timothy Dalton's ex-wife, but yet another mystery brunette who may or may not be Grigorieva was seen leaving Gibson's trailer on a movie set in Boston just recently.
Of course the press looks massively incompetent in all of this, but it does highlight how tough getting the news is when no one is willing to go on the record. No one can say if Gibson and his new floozy will be able to survive on a mere half billion, especially since we now live in a Soviet-style dictatorship where the tax rate for the wealthy is as high as it was when Mel made Braveheart.
Sorry, I was trying to channel a teabagger with that last sentence. It's hard to make any sense thinking the way they do.