The Marilyn Monroe sex tape has finally surfaced, thank God. The media was almost running out of living celebrity faux news fodder.

It is still a mystery why Spencer thinks this “news” is “so shocking.” In her lifetime Monroe made a name for herself as one of the most sensual and seductive stars on the planet, in addition to having rumored affairs with a number of celebrities and politicians. Further, wasn’t she on the cover of Playboy? Yeah, she was.

I’m personally glad that the person who bought the foreplay tape (no sex, just oral) has more integrity than the people reporting on it. The anonymous New York businessman spent $1.5 million with a vow to never release the tape.

Hopefully the businessman’s intentions are as true as 99% of sources are reporting; well except eFluxMedia (“an online newspaper that aims to offer a public service”), who ran an article titled “Marilyn Monroe Sex Tape Won’t Remain Secret for Long,” despite the fact that the assertion is completely unfounded.

One of the saddest angles on this story comes from 2Snaps.tv (“an online community dedicated to the senseless art of following, discussing, and obsessing over America’s greatest pastimes: Celebrities and Pop Culture”). Their article “Marilyn Monroe New Sex Tape Goddess?” brings up a depressingly true point: “Hopefully someone made a third copy of that film, because if Lindsay Lohan just posing as Monroe was as huge as it was imagine how big this would be if it hit the Internet!”

It is true. This tape would get gratuitous amounts of traffic on the Internet, which reminds me of a Savage Love column from last March (which came out in the wake of Anna Nicole Smith’s death.) In response to a question about whether it’s OK to masturbate to the late Smith, Dan Savage replies, “Masturbating to the dead inspires only feelings of hopelessness and despair. Which is why no one beats off to James Dean or River Phoenix or Marilyn Monroe or Mary Todd Lincoln without feeling a little creepy, a little hopeless and a little closer to the grave himself. Knock it off.”

Well said, Mr. Savage.

FURTHERMORE, an interesting twist to this story is that the tape came out of FBI archives. Apparently the tape had been studied frame by frame in order to determine whether the unidentified man was a Kennedy. (Note: this is where our tax dollars are going—investigating a possible sex scandal of an assassinated president.)

You’re all sick.

I frequent the pop culture blogs. I don’t do it because I care about the celebrities. I do it because I care about why so many people care about the celebrities. And to be honest, it seems to me like we’re carrying the same grudges and judgments held when we were 16.

Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian and Nichole Richie are the rich, popular kids with all the newest clothes and coolest stuff. They also have all these popular celebrity friends and boyfriends who have the coolest houses and cars. They all go to the coolest parties (to which we’re never invited) and drink the finest drinks. And, they didn’t have to work for it, and they may never have to work for the rest of their lives. So they’re stupid.

This makes the pop culture bloggers and news sources like TMZ.com the vocal critics – think any character from a John Hughes movie that isn’t Molly Ringwald. These social pariahs, these leeches are fueling this endless cycle of turning anti-news into news. They feed off of the misfortune of others, exploiting the most minor of pitfalls. And, what’s worse, though they build these celebrities up to be larger-than-life, enviable figures, the entire time they’re insulting and chastising their actions. There’s this bitter dichotomy between rhetoric and intention: one side is nasty and slanderous (the rhetoric), and the other is in some ways benevolent (the intention). If you look at www.popscribe.com‘s take on the rumored Lindsay Lohan sex tape, once it was found out that the source pictures were fakes, the blogger made no apologies, instead continuing the rumor, resorting to high school tactics, calling Lohan “Blohan.” The rhetoric in this kind of coverage is disgraceful and embarrassing. The fact that the blogger is even blogging about this subject, however, is in some ways flattering. The intention to aggrandize such marginal figures is not necessarily progressive, but it is somewhat complimentary.

And what does that make us? (Note: by us I’m referring to those who actually subscribe to this celebrity culture; which, while it may not be you, it’s many, many people.) We are the lowest of the low. If Paris is the prom queen, and John and Patrice from Popscribe are the gossipers, then we’re the faceless kids in the crowd. We have to live vicariously through the fascinating lives of these celebrities, forced bitterly into contention with our own situations. We share the gossip, we may even spread the gossip, but we don’t produce it. We make nothing worthwhile in the overall scope of things.

Then why do we care? Celebrities have done nothing to us. The social aristocracy has done nothing to us. The media has bred this fascination with the foibles of the elite. This is our way of sticking it to the upper class. We can’t attain the power we strive for, so we have to cut down those in power with cheap high school insults, and it’s pathetic.

The revolution will not be televised – it will be blogged about, and shouted in epithet at passing by Escalades with tinted windows. And the cameras will flash.

You’re all sick.

But her recent video, “Touch My Body,” is unsettling to me. She plays her usual prostitute/pop star persona perfectly, tempting the tech guy (the brilliant Jack McBrayer) when he comes to fix her computer. I mean, she answers the door in lingerie; nobody does that unless they’re planning on getting laid.

For the remainder of the video Mariah and the Nerd go through a series of playful and sexual frolics involving unicorns, fluffy beds, and Laser Tag. You can really feel the romance in the air.

But by the end, Jack McBrayer wakes up to find it was all a dream. Of course, Mariah Carey’s booty is way too high real estate for tech support. I understand that in America (and likely the rest of the world) the geek will never get the star. But do we really have to flaunt it, Mariah? It would have been so much better, and so much more with the spirit of the video of it would’ve turned out to be Mariah’s daydream. But, with her self-absorption, it had to be the nerd’s fantasy.

Mariah, I always thought of you as a temptress, but your track record led me to believe that maybe there was a glimmer of altruism between your ears and legs. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s hopeless.

You’re all sick.

10,000 B.C., the new Roland Emmerich (Independence Day, The Day After Tomorrow) vehicle, is plagued with absurdity, starting and ending with its name.

Surprisingly, Emmerich is German, which is weird, because many of his films wage pro-Americanism on the global screen. The date in the title is 10,000 BC. BC, or Before Christ, is a term developed to denote the years of the Christian Era. It was adopted in Western Europe in the 8th Century CE. CE? Oh, right. CE is the “Common Era,” a politically correct term that is preferably used in our Common Era. See, using B.C. and A.D. is considered offensive to those that don’t follow Christianity (which happens to be billions of people worldwide). Using B.C. is presumptuous and downright wrong (I will concede that 10,000 BCE isn’t catchy, however).

In 10,000 BCE there weren’t cities and civilizations like in the movie. In fact, agriculture was just being attempted for the first time. Most of the world’s population lived in small, nomadic hunting tribes following their food. They weren’t building pyramids just yet.

The worst part of all is the fact that they’re speaking English in the movie. The English language probably didn’t develop until around 10,500 years later. I know this seems nitpicky, but let’s be realistic. At least make up a language or get creative like in Apocalypto. What’s even worse about this is the fact that the main characters (who are from California and New York, respectively) speak with a British accent! I think it’s funny that in America we see any dialect not American as a foreign language. It could be aliens, animals, or prehistoric man; as long as they have a British accent they must be foreign.

This movie is obviously supposed to be taken with a grain of salt (and a gun to the head). But let not shit ourselves. If anyone sees this movie and believes any of it, including the fact that dinosaurs were around in 10,000 BCE, we’ve got bigger problems on our hands. And the sad truth is, the lowest common denominator that sees this movie, may find some truth in it.

You’re all sick.

I understand that our culture has a morbid fascination with death. But, is this where we are as a society? If Patrick Swayze donated $1,000 to a cancer charity nobody would bat an eyelash. As soon as there’s pending tragedy the tabloid press attacks like a pack of blood-thirsty hyenas. Nobody was even clever about their coverage of his possible death. There wasn’t a single insensitive allusion (”Swayze soon to be Ghost“) or postmortem postulation (”Will the Heavenly Bouncer Accept or Reject the Swayze?” [that's a Roadhouse reference]).

To anyone who read reports about Swayze dying and actually cared, this is all your fault. Don’t ignore a celebrity until they fuck up or die. If you actually care, stand by them when they’re out of the public eye.

You’re all sick.