Jack Nicholson once said, “people who speak in metaphors should shampoo my crotch.” OK, so it wasn’t exactly Jack, it was the guy he played in As Good as it Gets, but I’ll be damned if the man doesn’t have a way with words. And as much as I pine for such eloquence, I’m going to go ahead and totally disagree with “Mr. Nicholson’s” sentiment.
We’re surrounded by metaphors, and it’s just wasteful to leave them out of our everyday conversations. Pop culture, especially, provides many metaphors representing our greater society. For instance, every Wednesday at 9 p.m., you can tune in to MTV and watch My Super Sweet 16, a metaphor for everything gone awry with American capitalism.
As a disclaimer, this might be jealousy talking. But I feel a special brand of disdain for the devil spawn of My Super Sweet 16. While they dropped something like a quarter of a million dollars renting out the mall or hiring Ciara to forget their name, I can’t even remember what I did for my own 16th birthday (I bet the Olive Garden was involved, though).
I’m not one to look down on conspicuous consumption. I’ve enjoyed every episode of VH1’s The Fabulous Life Of…, but celebs earn their money the hard way: by acting, singing, or, in Mark Cuban’s case, being a jackass. The Sweet 16-ers haven’t earned a dime, yet they’re happy to spend their parents’ cash like money ain’t a thing. Apparently, if your dad, like, totally owns two car dealerships and is kind of a big deal in Nowheresville, you’re one degree of separation away from celeb-status and should spend as such – Go-Go dancers, fashion consultants, a new Benz. There is no wrong way to splurge. Seriously though, Casi with an “i”? Ice sculptures? You’re gonna be that girl?
While the ridiculous fantasy purchases are enough to make Kimberly Stewart roll her eyes at the tackiness of it all, the flaunting of wealth makes me think perhaps we took a wrong turn somewhere when deciding not to take the communist route. Watching the faces of the kids who get shunned from “the party of the year” is like watching the end of Old Yeller. It’s truly painful, but you also wonder if maybe they should have a guy on site with a shotgun to put them out of their misery.
After cringing with glee through each episode of My Super Sweet 16 I find dozens of things that make me loathe no-name teenagers with money (obviously not counting Aaron Reid, because his party was the shit). The show goes so far as to make me question the value of money in my life, and I hate that. Then again, maybe I’m being too hard on the show. I mean, if we can’t live in a world where you can dye your small dogs pink to match your party theme, then maybe the terrorists have won.
Medill junior Laura Moore is a PLAY pop culture columnist. She can be reached at [email protected].
