Tiger Woods, Vanity Fair, and why the Jerks always win…

One of the first things I do when I teach a class of writing is have my students analyze a picture.  This allows two things to happen.  The first, they begin to understand that writing is about putting your thoughts down in a cohesive, thoughtful way that other people can extrapolate your thoughts from.  The second, they become extremely frustrated.  I felt that frustration today when I decided to look, at length, at the soon-to-be infamous Tiger Woods’ Vanity Fair cover.  Seldom do we have the chance to see a small bit of history pop up, and I think that’s why Vanity Fair is pushing this cover so hard.  Tiger Woods is a bastard.  But he is also what is wrong with humanity.  Seriously, let’s take stock real quick.  There are hundreds of athletes that don’t cheat on their wives and that perform amazing feats of physical prowess.  But Tiger Woods gets on the cover.  Multiple men and women are brilliant doctors, saving lives and treating the sick and ill.  But Tiger Woods gets the cover.  We have Movie Directors that have made the most interesting, the most thought-provoking movies in the last ten years!  Actors that have mad CGI characters sound real, sound like real beings with real fears!  But, I mean, let’s just put Tiger Woods on the cover.  Why?  Because, with Tiger Woods lifting weights, sweating, a mugger hat on, looking like he might kick your ass or French kiss your sister, he sums up everything that we look for in men.  Tough.  Mean.  Stoic.  Douche bag.  I can’t judge Tiger Woods.  He’s not a douche bag for cheating on his wife.  He’s just a douche bag AND he cheated on his wife.  What proof do I have that he is a douche bag?  He cheated on his wife with a billion people!  But I can’t judge him.  I’ve done plenty of bad things in my life.  The thing is, men like Tiger Woods, men like me, are forgiven for these bad things.  We don’t lift up the good people, the ones not making ridiculous mistakes.  We don’t put the good people on our shoulders until they are dead.  The bad men get to live and be glorified on magazines, on this blog.  And I know that is hypocritical.  That’s part of the point.  I can’t look away from him, either.  And it is so bad, I have to spend over four hundred words talking about how horrible this whole mess is…

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