Serving deep-fried dreck to the masses while dining on lobster tail

Tonight, in primetime,
from 8 to 10pm:

Sex - How it works

Then, at 10pm, this:


Shows about male prostitutes
are served up for the masses, of course.
They’re not really intended
for our Society’s leaders,
who prefer a far more refined diet.
Last week at the National Building Museum,
they gathered to celebrate the Society’s 125th anniversary
beneath tasteful images of wildlife.
On the dinner menu: chilled 
lobster-tail medallions,
roast bison filet, Pavlova, and champagne:
NGS gala at National Building Museum

June 13, 2013: The National Geographic Society’s 125th anniversary gala
at the National Building Museum in Washington, DC.

Mind experiment: Why isn’t there
a wall-sized mural at this dinner
of Tommy the Male Prostitute?
You know, something to pay homage
to the types of TV programs that are paying for…
well, for all that lobster tail:
Tommy the male prostitute mural

Doesn’t Tommy the Male Prostitute deserve some respect for all he does to support our Society?

Meanwhile, back on the Channel,
the masses keep getting served stuff like this:


Our Society — and our society — can do
so much better than this.


P.S. via Twitter:

Twitter Taboo plague asteroid

Retweeted by National Geographic,
whose mission is
“to inspire people to care about the planet.”

Rupert Murdoch laughsJohn Fahey National Geographic

  • Jan Adkins

    James Dean was cool. In retrospect he wasn’t an especially interesting human being and not a terrific actor but “cool.” This word carries a kind of damnation of its own. “Cool” as in disinterested, blasé, whatevah, don’t bother me.

    The Society we knew was never cool. It was passionate, bubbling up, leaping and sweating, under the ocean or high-up with oxygen tanks. Tom Abercrombie was un-cool; he was too busy being fascinated by Everything, Everywhere. Luis Marden was elegant but intense, leaning out for every bite of life. The story of Bill Garrett at Angkor Wat waiting to get the light just right for his photograph while his Vietnamese bodyguards fidgeted more and more, watching the Khmer Rouge night-soldiers approaching within a quarter mile; un-cool.

    The Society’s new masters are cool. They’re disinterested in details, cynical panderers to the unwashed masses’ lowest common denominator, casually willing to rake in the profits from sub-standard work that slanders and discounts common people.

    Cadavers are cool. Perhaps that’s what we’re seeing: the once-proud, once-vital, once-passionate cadaver of a Society that sold its heritage and intense love for a mess of pottage.

    • I remember attending one of John Fahey’s Friday morning breakfast meetings, where about 30 staffers (selected on a rotating basis) crowded into John’s office for juice, coffee, and an informal Q&A. John sat at the head of a very long table which was covered with books and magazines published by National Geographic.

      One of my NGM colleagues asked the following question: “John, you’re a very busy guy. How in the world do you find time to read all, or even some of these books and magazines?”

      John could barely stifle a laugh. Read this stuff?? you could see him thinking. Honey, this is all just part of the office decor.

      Mr Fahey no doubt has many skills, but he clearly was not cut from the same bolt of cloth as Tom and Luis and Bill.

      That said, I’m not sure Tom, Luis, or Bill would have the answers to what ails NGS right now. But this much is clear: building a business on reality TV programs about male prostitutes, or on a TV series that inspires viewers to look forward to a global plague that will wipe out humanity — well, as I said: We can do much better than this.

      • DClover

        🙂 to both of you.

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