Dumb, dumber and just plain stupid

I have been feeling stupid lately and really, I am not being funny, I am concerned that I am becoming a dullard.

It all began when I realized that I felt generally fuzzy. I became seriously suspicious however, when I realized that my reading material had downgraded from bona fide novels to magazines. For the love of God people, I had become incapable of sustaining any serious thought for more than 850 words of information; and not even challenging information at that. Even more embarrasing, it's not like I am reading the Economist, more like Voge or, my current favourite, Conde Nast Traveller (or, as Mr. Lemony Lemonade calls it "Conde Nasty Traveller"). The situation reached Defcon Four when I further downgraded from Vogue to Us and Star which represents a whole new low. Of course, because I couldn't actually bring myself to purchase the bloody things, I am relegated to reading them while waiting in line at the supermarket and even then, I feel like I am doing something really bad, like my high school Physics teacher is going to catch me and realize that I in fact I am a complete idiot, just as she suspected...

So, long preamble aside, the issue is this, when did I become part of what I had always identified as the problem? The problem being a society that is more interested in the train wreck that is Britney Spears than the accomplishments of a nobel laureate or that is more interested in the "Best Beach Bodies of '07" over the human crises that is taking place right now in Darfur, or even, gulp, on your very own doorstep.

I have become increasingly alarmed and despondent at the growing cult of celebrity worship. Part of it is selfish because I am worried that Baby Girl is going to opt to emulate someone like Britney Spears over someone more deserving like oh, say, Maya Angelou, and part of it is born out of an incredulity that somewhere along the way, we have all gone stark raving mad and have collectively decided that good looks and dubious acting or singing ability is far more valuable than dedicating yourself to community service, excellence in the arts or medical research, for example. Never mind the fact that I have developed a maternal concern for the poor celebrities themselves. Just today I was struck by the screaming headline "Rachael Ray caught in bed with another man." The poor woman; if she was really caught, how awful to have to have it splashed across the media with everyone rubber necking over her personal ruination and if it's not true (which I suspect is the case), how awful to have to see that sort of lie about yourself plastered everywhere, never mind the 'splaining to the family and friends.

Having considered all of this over the past week, I have given myself a stern talking to and won't be reading anything that increases my alarming stupidification. Besides, the endless episodes of Dora the Explorer have dulled my senses more than I care to admit or possibly, my dull senses could be as a result of the fact that I am consumed with Baby Girl's baffling inability to potty train herself. From now on, I am committed to feeding my brain with wholesome information in an effort to prevent it from shirking like an unwatered plant until it resembles a raisin and rattles when I bounce.