If I had a hammer…
Two days ago the organisation Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD) made the news again - or rather, a policeman who had won a MADD Cop Award did, when he was arrested for drunk driving himself.
So far the (now desk-bound) police officer has not commented on the affair. Which is probably a good thing, since those explanations never come down to more than self-serving, not even thinly veiled excuses of the Oprah made me do it variety.
That other one, Alcohol made me do it would be technically correct in this case but not really very helpful. Not that it did Mel Gibson much good, of course - although rumour has it that he’s been offered the job of doing voice-overs for the next Middle-East Mickey Mouse movie.
(At this very moment the old favourite God made me do it does not apply: The Almighty One is much too busy right now, what with His credit problems and the fact that you can’t even get an old-fashioned God-fearing cup of coffee any more, not for love, a good smiting or the threat of an eternal roast.)
There is, of course, always the good old Larkin defence. If you know your Larkin, you will recognize these lines immediately:
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
It may be easy (and, admittedly, quite gratifying) to despise Paris Hilton and all she unwittingly stands for but it has to be said she does have these parents from Hell. Especially her mother, as that mad harpy’s incredibly stupid and crassly arrogant behaviour showed after her dear daughter was convicted for driving without a licence (again…); she fully deserves to win the Baldwin Awards for Bad Parenting this year round. With parents like that it would indeed be a miracle if kids didn’t go bad or simply mental.
45 days in jail doesn’t seem that excessive, to be honest - not for a repeat offender like Paris Hilton; and certainly not if you consider the way the Atlanta cops deal with jay-walkers or Los Angeles finest treat the elderly who, at the very least, try to cross the street in a legal fashion. Never mind what kissing in an aeroplane can do to you these days, in terms of legal bother.
So, whatever the mad histrionics of mama Hilton, Paris seems to have got off rather lightly. It’s very tempting to say that she got off much too lightly and should have been punished with more Romanian orthodox zeal but that might be a little bit too…
Oh Hell, whom am I kidding: let’s just fly in that priest, give him a Martel ‘Nail Jesus’ set and point him in the right direction - and while he’s at it, let him hang out the parents too. It would make for a nice Biblical image and they certainly are as deserving of the honour as their useless daughter.
So, let’s just do it - if only for the simple reason that, for once in their pathetic little lives, the Hilton tribe would finally be able to provide us with many happy hours of highly enjoyable Reality TV indeed.
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