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Who Will Save Your Soul? Not you, Jewel, please sit down. July 12, 2006

Posted by doctorolove in Movies, Pop Culture Rants.
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We are at the crossroads, people.

With the world falling apart and the apocalypse imminent, we’ve got to start looking for saviors. Searching for that John Connor like being who will lead us past the machines (my personal favorite Armageddon scenario, just slightly beating out sulfur rain and the whole nuclear bomb thing) can be a trying process. If you ask me, we have recently been granted two such beings. That’s right: I have a feeling our souls will be saved by one of two beings, Suri Cruise or Shiloh Jolie-Pitt.

How? Have two children ever been created with such hype and under such different media circumstances? The test tube baby from the seventies did make the cover of Time and I’m sure whenever that wacky French Raelian cult clones Marilyn Monroe or something that’ll make news. But those do not compare with Shiloh and Suri. These two girls are well on their way to becoming demi-gods who, in these end times, will lead us to the promised land, or (again, my favorite scenario) the impenetrable underground bunker surrounded by a lifetime supply of Funyuns.

But who do you choose? Following a leader can be a funky thing, especially with two to choose from. So, we here at EARWACS, are going to bring you the Shiloh/Suri TALE OF THE TAPE. Five topics. Five points to be awarded. And may the winner set us free.
Suri (maybe?)
mystery-baby.jpg LET THE BATTLE BEGIN!!!10-pitt_jolie_baby-1.jpg

PARENTAL HOOKING-UP: We all watched Mr. And Mrs. Smith, so the first sparks of love between Shiloh’s parents was well documented. I mean, how could throwing yourself into walls, breaking plates and firing off automatic weapons at one another not be like THE GREATEST FREAKING FOREPLAY EVER? Katie and Tom, well, different story. Katie was quoted in Seventeen magazine as dreaming she’d one day marry Tom. And Tom, after Nicole Kidman, was looking for a woman he could settle down with (And by settling, I mean taking off his huge lifter boots he borrowed from the Darth Vader costume in Episode III.) At first, we all thought it was a publicity boost, to jazz up their 2005 summer movies. But seriously, if you need to manufacture a romance to sell a Batman flick, why wasn’t Michael Keaton hooking up with Tiffany or something? So, it must have been true love. Close call, but I’m giving the point to Suri, if only for the Vince Vaughn ick factor because how romantic can a film’s legacy be when years from now Vince can say, “Hey, wanna watch the movie that broke Mommy up from her ex-husband? I’m in it….No, I had nothing to do with it…No, she didn’t fall in love with me…Um, Jen, come and get our children some dinner…” Point Suri.

CONCEPTION – This is something I can guarantee nobody saw first hand, save for a few Scientology members and the UN Humanitarian Council at their last mixer. I can only imagine Brad And Angelina were sipping on organic well water at some refugee camp, the lights of the oil filled streams burning brightly in the ash soaked sky. A quick glance, a knowing look, and a rapid search to find the only UNHCR cot that didn’t smell like a mixture of oats and vomit. I’d like to think they eschewed the cot and instead found a small patch of unfarmable land, deep in a malaria filled jungle. The Suri conception was probably a little more rigid. There was a probably a director (Spielberg is second on Tom’s speed dial) lighting the room and setting the mood. Various Scientology helpers were nearby to supply tips (No, come at her from a low angle. Katie, can you give us more ecstasy?). And of course, the coitus ended with a reading from Dianetics, but not the part with the aliens, because that would just be silly. So when it comes down to conception, it’s the age old question: In nature or being nurtured? If Trading Places taught me anything, it’s that it’s all about nurture. Point for Suri.

WOMBS ON FILM: The bumps of both mothers began appearing in tabloids across the country. But think about just how much ground each one traveled. I swear, it looked like Shiloh’s first photo ops were shot in front of a green screen, with her mother changing backgrounds faster than the Bush administration changes cabinet members. There were picture of the bump in every Third World country, in every Starbucks on the Sunset Strip and I’m positive I saw a shot of the bump in the audience of the American Idol holding a Soul Patrol sign. The womb was well traveled, and sometimes, it was alone. Just Mom and the womb, as nature intended. Suri, on the other hand, never seemed to leave the compound. And when it did, it was to a Target. Or maybe a Old Navy to buy baby clothes. And in every picture there was Tom, standing near-by. Maybe he was stalking the paparazzi, maybe he was making sure each second of the trimester was following Hubbardian ways. Maybe he thought the sheer act of having a child was not publicity enough. Whatever case, Katie always looked tired, uncomfortable, trapped. Shiloh’s mom was too busy lifting sacks of wheat, surrounded by children who were strategically choreographed to run around her and smile as per the Mother Theresa Deity code of 1985. So point here goes to Shiloh, because nobody wants their future leader to be a Daddy’s girl.

BIRTH: We’ve all heard the circumstances. Tom rented a sonogram machine, then rented out a whole floor of the hospital, then rented several film crews to film the birth. I have no conformation, but old buddy Spielberg does have the sequel rights, with Dakota Fanning to star as the placenta. Brangelina rented a safari compound, then Angelina gave birth at a tiny Namibian hospital that they themselves paid to refurbish. Both births went smooth, though the lack of a Suri picture may predicate UBS (Ugly Baby Syndrome, first introduced in Seinfeld). While both babies’ births were rocketed to the top of the newswire (bumping off such boring topics as war and North Korean trade embargoes), the point here goes to Shiloh by a landslide. Hiring tigers to take out sneaking paparazzi is every man’s dream. It raises Brangelina on par with every comic book villain ever. And that alone deserves two points, but rules state, it’s only one. Point Shiloh.

BABY PICTURES: Shiloh’s sold for 4 million. And her worldly wise parents donated the money to various charities. The photos tore across the mediasphere so fast that I even carried one in my wallet. And Suri? Still haven’t seen her yet and the offers for her photos were still holding steady at eighteen dollars and a signed copy of “The Gift.” Point here goes to Shiloh, because she’s already learned the most successful rule of Hollywood and world domination: It’s all about how you open.

So, in a rousing come back, Shiloh Jolie-Pitt becomes my future savior in a squeaker 3-2. Now this is by no means a scientific study and it is solely my opinion. In the icky world of choosing who to follow in times of need, there are many choices (I mean, can either of these kids walk on water? Not yet, anyway.) It’s still early and maybe over the years, Suri will catch up to Shiloh, so you feel free to follow the goddess of your choice. But when you, Suri, Sean Preston Federline Spears and a legion of Risky Business fans come knocking on my double bolted, laser proof metal door, don’t expect me to let you in. I’m afraid of robotic skeletons.

And besides, we have Chili Cheese Fritos in here, too. And the Doc don’t move when he has those.

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