Midnight Musings

It amazes me how many people find themselves fascinating enough not only to want to publish their thoughts but to expect others to be fascinated by them, as well. How very hypocritical of me, then, to do the same. Yes, well, this is my very first Midnight Musing (to be honest, it's afternoon, but my brain isn't always in the same time zone as my hands and I *was* awake until rather late last night) and it probably won't be pretty. I hope to find myself more entertaining as time goes on. It strikes me, though, that if I ever became famous I might well fall victim to the I'm-well-known-so-my-ill-conceived-opinions-are-worth-publicizing-now syndrome. I hope not. Truly talented people interest me but their private lives and thoughts should not be news. I'm not a very good "fan" I suppose. Which brings me to today's biographical poem (for want of a better label).

I've never seen Survivor
I do like Minnie Driver
But not Maria Shriver
Is she a Democrat?

I've never watched the Osbornes
I know he needs his locks shorn
Every family locks horns
Where's the fun in that?

I don't read the Enquirer
Monica? Let's hire her
Or let Joe Schmo re-wire her
Who came up with this?

I do watch science fiction
They need help with diction
It's a grand depiction
of cosmic monkey biz

Come to think of it, you never see top hats anymore. (That relates to a line I edited out. Sorry. Moving on.) Another case of art imitating life. As if science fiction could be considered art. Which I suppose it could, if you turned off the sound. I only enjoy it if it doesn't try to take itself seriously. Otherwise I feel guilty for laughing.