Tag Archives: I hate celebreality

“Reality” is overrated. Give me Armitage truths every time.

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You know, I really don’t care about Kim Kardashian’s new colored contact lenses. Or her bangs (fringe) or lack thereof. I couldn’t give a rat’s bladder about any of the Real Housewives of (insert any city) and their plasticized bodies and faces and  (semi) manufactured-for-TV dramatics.

To me, that’s all surreal, if not downright unreal–nothing to do with my daily life, which is far removed from fame and fortune and television cameras, or how I deal with my own fears and doubts, aches and pains, joys and sorrows.

I find I relate far more, far better, to the fictional creations of one Richard Armitage. On the surface, they would seem to have little in common with me. I’m no Victorian businessman or cheeky accountant, tough soldier or haunted henchman from the Middle Ages, certainly no warrior dwarf king from the pages of a children’s fantasy.

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And yet, when I spent time with these characters, they become flesh and blood before my eyes. Their words ring true in my ears, their emotions– frustration, anger, fear, desire, tenderness, hope–ring true in my heart. I go on a journey of discovery with them and see their world through their eyes. The truths they wrangle with are the same as my own.

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Their story somehow becomes part of my story. They battle with their flaws and imperfections, their personal demons and private ghosts, just as I do. And just as I do, they succeed better at certain times than they do others. Even the worst of them I can identify with on some level in ways I cannot with many reality show “stars.”

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I do not believe I would be touched so deeply, so profoundly by these performances if it were not for the man who so carefully crafts these characters. It is raw talent, yes, and years of training and practice and plenty of technical proficiency; but it is also more than those things for me. Somehow the fundamental integrity of the man behind the characters seems to shine through.

It’s a fellow human being who is unashamed to admit to his own flaws and foibles, who does not feel the need to pretend to be what he isn’t, who shows no desire to be put on a pedestal, who admits to nerves and fear and occasional tears. A man who takes on tough challenges and just “gets on with it.” A man who tries his best to treat others the way he himself would wish to be treated.  A man who respects himself and respects others in kind.

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A down-to-earth, modest man with a sweet humility. Those qualities are so refreshing in a business,no, in a world in which so many seem determined to make you look at them, to admire them for–what?

Throwing the biggest, most ridiculously expensive bashes or losing all their baby weight in the shortest possible amount of time or making the sleaziest sex tape or carving the most notches in their bed posts?

Give me the genuine, authentic human being who makes me believe in all those characters, who brings them to life in such an amazing, inspiring way, over most “reality stars” any old day of the week. Give me someone who makes me feel as i could become a finer person from spending time in his company, rather than a lesser one.

Sometimes “truth”–or what passes for it–is far more shallow and ultimately unsatisfying than “fiction.”  In a world filled with so much that is pure poppycock, I want someone, something to encourage and inspire and teach and transport me.

Thank you, Richard Armitage, for doing that for me. Long may you continue to do so.

I am glad I didn’t read this about you, Mr. A.

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In case you missed it, apparently one of those Real Housewives stars slept with actor Gerard Butler. Seems Brandi Glanville claimed it before,
but Gerry wasn’t admitting to anything. This week, apparently having seen photos of Ms. Glanville, he admitted the two had hooked up, but he’d forgotten her name.

Glanville (the ex-wife of Eddie Cibrian, now married to Leeann Rimes, just to fill you in) is  excited that she’s been vindicated in this matter. Oh, Ms. Glanville, I am SO happy for you. And yes, I am being sarcastic.

First of all,  I wouldn’t be all that proud of trumpeting the fact of having slept with some guy who found it such a forgettable experience he couldn’t remember exactly who I was, even if he was some hottie Scots actor. Then again, I am guessing the reason she felt the need to do so in the first place was to boost her own self-esteem (“Look! I bagged a Hottie Scottie even if he doesn’t have any idea who I actually am!”) and brag about shagging an A-lister.

Secondly, I hope to never see or hear this kind of story about Richard Armitage as his star continues to rise.

And I don’t think I will.

Not that I don’t recognize he’s a grown man who lost his virginity a long time ago. He might be one who even possibly enjoys the occasonal casual “hook-up.” We don’t really know, do we? We can only surmise.

But  I am convinced RA is not a man who kisses (or much of anything else) and tells. There’s no evidence of that thus far, at least.  Nor do I think he is attracted to the sort of woman who is likely to go blathering all over the internet about such a tryst, either. Let me say I think he’s just a little–or a lot–classier than that.

I am thankful that Richard Armitage is a class act and a true gentleman.  But then again, that’s one of the reasons we admire him so much, right? Not just your bog-standard celeb.  Not intending to bash Mr. Butler, who is a talented and charming guy, but this is the kind of tabloid fodder behavior of which I grow weary.  And really, Gerry–one of the Real (Fake-*Ass) Housewives? Please.

Sometimes, it’s really nice and refreshing not to have everything about a well-known individual’s personal life splashed out for everyone to see. There really IS such a thing as too much information.  A little mystery can go a very, very long way.

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