Turn on the tube and be very afraid
I don't have bird flu yet, and I demand to know why.
Although I've taken precautions against contracting this avian flu, such as avoiding poultry, swearing off Alfred Hitchcock movies and burning my copy of "Stokes Backyard Bird Book," I have used a public toilet in the last three months, so all my Howard Hughes-like precautions are meaningless.
According to the media, I should be one of the literally hundreds of people around the world who have this flu.
And it's not like the media's ever lied to me before. I mean, I did have mad cow disease for a month. I thought I was a Hereford steer and was depressed because all the heifers just wanted to be friends.
I've also had Gulf War syndrome, swine flu and battled a cholesterol problem with a strict regimen of oatmeal cookies.
Yeah, the media have kept me informed of all the dangers in my life by scaring the heck out of me.
So why do I feel fine? Is that one of the symptoms?
I was recently offered pizza _ chickenless, I checked _ and turned it down. It was tempting. A wedge of bread, tomato sauce and cheese mauled by a pile of sausage dangerous enough to shorten my life.
Yeah, even tasting a slice of (insert brand name here*) would have been better than the time I met that tire model. I'm just lucky the media has done its job over the years and shown me eating shortens my life span.
According to the U.S. media, all Americans who aren't in commercials are fat, stupid and think Charlie Sheen is funny. And, given the advertising images of Hooters waitresses pretending to be teenagers dressed like hookers, the media may be right. Well, except about Charlie Sheen.
Even the U.S. government, which is supposed to be our friend, claims everyone in the country who doesn't look like an Olsen twin is eating themselves to death. OK, sure, we're a tubby country, but I prefer to think of us as big boned _ maybe even Rubenesque.
Speaking of that, a Reuben would be pretty tasty about now.
But with all of the media's attention on the pandemic of the week, the missing teen of the week and the killer food of the week, the media are completely glossing over the major problem facing America today _ zombies.
No, wait, I meant the media itself.
As a daily consumer of the media I've realized every media message _ every commercial, every television program, every news broadcast _ is designed to do one thing: make money off of me.
So during the next "scare you to death" media blitz, don't go out and buy a bottle of Vitamin C to protect you from the Ring-Tailed Lemur Flu, don't buy an Identa-Pet Kit in case your cat is abducted by Bigfoot, and don't swear off Mallomars just because the TV told you you're fat.
I eventually ate the slice of pizza. And, I liked it, too.
*Advertisers: See me for product placement ... wink, wink.
