Erik’s post the other day about the human garbage dump that is Carlos Mencia got me thinking; who else in the entertainment world would we be better off without. With the economy in the shitter, it’s time to start trimming the fat from everything in our lives, especially the amount of crap on television.
I could easily give you a list of talentless ass-clowns who would have been better off stillborn than polluting us with the cultural equivalent of the Ebola virus (I’m looking at you Russell Brand/Dane Cook/people who keep making those godforsaken “Not Another…” movies), but we’d be here forever and, frankly, I have better things to do. Like scraping plaque off my dog’s teeth.
So, I thought that I’d focus my vitriol on someone that annoys me the most. Someone who’s cultural relevance escapes me entirely. Someone who couldn’t possibly add anything to our society if they tried. Someone who ruins nearly every NBA basketball game I watch.
No, not Reggie Miller. I’m talking about Tyler Perry.
Yes, Tyler Perry. Madea him/herself. The bane of my basketball-loving self. During every NBA game that I watch on TNT, I have to sit through endless promos for “The Tyler Perry Show” and now, “Meet the Browns.” It’s the special kind of torture that makes me wish I could willingly send myself to Gitmo.
The fact that I’ve never seen one of his movies, watched his TV show or read one of his books(BOOKS, this hack has written books! That people read!!) has no bearing on the amount of pure hatred I have for him. In private, I’m sure he’s a genial enough fella. But that doesn’t enter into the reality that he has made me want to scream more times than Jamie Lee Curtis in Halloween. And, as former President Bush has proved, just because people want to have a beer with you, doesn’t mean you won’t bomb the shit out of innocent people/torture more innocent people/run the economy into the ground. Metaphorically speaking, in Mr. Perry’s case…so far.
The real problem is that I, as a relatively sane member of society who wants nothing to do with Tyler Perry in any incarnation, can’t avoid him. Thanks to technology and advertising’s co-option of technology, simply avoiding commercial breaks isn’t enough. TNT (actually, all stations do this) runs their lower-third ads during the games themselves. So I get subjected to some douchebag dressed up as a mad black woman while Steve Nash is dishing to Amare Stoudamire and Kevin Garnett is thumping his chest after yet another excellent alley-oop from Rajon Rondo.
I see no redeeming qualities to his lowest-common-denominator sitcoms and pitifully thinly plotted movies. You’ve no doubt seen an advertisement for the newest turd, “Madea Goes to Jail,” which cements him as the Ernest P. Worrell of his generation. At least Jim Varney had the human decency to stay away from performing in drag. Tyler Perry is like a sick cross between Martin Lawrence and Jim Varney, except without the marginal comedy factor. He’s worse that Jim Belushi, and that’s saying something.
Look, Mr. Perry, I know that you think that you can fill that need that has existed in the world of comedy for a crossing-dresser who enjoying playing multiple characters for no other reason than you’re producing the damn thing, but you’re no Eddie Murphy. In fact, even Eddie Murphy isn’t Eddie Murphy anymore. As a matter of fact, you’re not even Arsenio Hall. You’re not even Vicki Lawrence from “Mama’s Family.” Your popularity makes me wonder if the entire world has in fact gone crazy and I’m the only sane one left. But this is not The Twilight Zone and you, sir, are in no way funny.
