Cerebral Ramblings

So apparently Aishwarya Rai had a baby this year, and Jessica Simpson is expecting one too. They’re both going to produce miniature celebrities who are going to be coochy cooed over by all loyal followers of the tabloid for years to come. Worldover, people love talking about these hot mamas and their movies and music and enviable good looks, but lately, Aishwarya and Jessica have committed a grave and heinous crime. An unforgivable sin, which has caused critics – yes, there are actually official ‘critics’ for such situations – to huff and haw about the nerve of these women, about their utterly despicable ill manners. How dare they! scream former fans and ‘experts’ on the matter in outrage in several blogs, magazines, articles.

Apparently… Aishwarya — in the process of nurturing life, a human being, inside her uterus, for nine long months of most probable painstaking cramps, morning sickness, painful hormone-induced mood swings, ending with insane gut wrenching enough-to-make-a-grown-man-cry labour pain, to produce presumably a hefty healthy 7 pound baby — had the audacity, the nerve, to get fat! That bitch. Who does she think she is?

I mean, just because your body is completely transforming itself into a rapidly-growing-baby’s nest, and demands a crazy amount of food to nurture it, just because you are experiencing motherhood for the first time, and have decided to (irresponsibly) express more concern for the nutrition of the precious life growing inside you than for your looks, just because the only momentary solace from 9 months of unpredictable physical and mental ups-and-downs is a bit of soothing feeding, just because it is basic biological convention for all mother mammals to put on pounds during the birthing process, just because you think you have the right to spend some post-birth time nurturing your child than slaving on a treadmill — it is no freaking excuse, lady, to not look like a runway model a week after squeezing a seven pound baby out of your body.

I mean you’re a celebrity. We, the random people all over the world who you’ve never met in your life, own you. Your job, like that of a circus monkey, is to entertain. And as a hot female celebrity who is glorified for her great looks, you are not allowed to go around having normal human experiences that affect those great looks — turn into an efficient robot, I mean if Madonna and Victoria Beckham can pull it off why the hell can’t you? You gotta buck up and stop being a selfish slag, and go to the gym and start working your ass off RIGHT NOW. What? I don’t care if you were on a hospital bed two days ago and think you’ve experienced the most profound thing a woman can experience and you’re going through a vertigo of overwhelming emotions — you’re FAT. Quit your whining and give me 10 push-ups, fattie.

Your kid is beautiful and all that, but look at what that thing has done to your hips, your calves, your chin! Disgusting! I can’t even bear to look at you. And as a responsible citizen who is campaigning for the holy laws of Stardom to be respected (article 34 of the holy laws of Stardom states that being pregnant is not an excuse for a hot celebrity to look fat), I will whine like a little bitch about your offensive girth till the cows come home, achieving nothing much else besides the 200 hits got by my crappy slideshowy Windows-Movie-Maker-made YouTube video about your detestable pregnancy fat, and congratulating myself on getting published my pretentious articles about the same. It really doesn’t matter that most of us ‘critics’ are 18 year old high school brats who think pregnancy is ‘like, so not sexy’, or 35 year old male tabloid editors who deal with the meaninglessness of their lives by bitching about richer and more successful people, before later crying themselves to sleep at night — both categories of which, have no idea in hell what you’re going through. Why does that not matter and why should you still just do what we, the Critics, so rightfully demand of you? Because you’re fat (not obese, but still fat). And everyone knows fat people (which in our context usually means people beyond a 25 inch waist) are just a waste of space.