Ellen

Why don't I like Ellen anymore? I used to, really. I got sucked into the energy, especially at the opening with all those women screaming. Her monologues were so so, but then she did her little shimmy dance up the aisle and her movements rippled through the audience, lending it a revivalist atmosphere.
I liked her haircut and toothy smile, her look of barely concealed bafflement when her guests said something strange. Always Ellen would bail them out with a one-liner. Yes, there were stupid contests, some involving celebrities making fools of themselves. And those phone calls to strangers were edgy in their unpredictability.
I suppose my attitude began to change when I sensed the screaming was out of control. I mean, after awhile those women would become apoplectic if Ellen coughed. It was like they were in on the joke and I wasn't. At some point enthusiasm becomes mindless and repetitive.
What really drove me away, however, was the plethora of gifts given to those in the studio. Every single show these mostly white, well off ladies were given something. It could be anything from a DVD to a gift card to Saks. On the surface, this is unbridled generosity. Underneath, is a tsunami of consumerism and materialism at a time when millions are starving, homeless, out of work. Christmas season was the worst display of sheer greed. The decibels increase as gift after gift is bestowed upon the anointed kneeling before their Goddess. A complete turnoff and that wouldn't change if it were men receiving this largess.
Harmless, you say. Stop being anal, you say. Well, all I know is at 4pm I am no longer in front of the TV. Instead, I'm sticking March of Dimes icons on my holiday cards. Or at least I plan to if I can just get the damn neighbors to cease caroling in front of my door. Screeching maniacs.