Eat, Pray, Barf. That's what I'll do if anyone drags me to that ridiculous book-turned-movie. All this New Age crapalapotamus makes my ashram hurt.
I mean, the Twilight stuff is more tolerable than this gross fetishizing of pseudo-spirituality. I blame the celebrities, what with their little Namaste bows and their dithering on about "finding themselves" during their requisite pit-stops in India.
How terribly convenient that while making these journeys of 'self-discovery,' they're able to ignore the crushing poverty and horrific oppression around them. It's just so typical of the rampant vacuity of celebrity faux religion.
If Elizabeth Gilbert's enlightenment was worth its salt, she'd have come home all fired up to ease the suffering she stepped over on the way to her precious little ashram. Instead, she came home all fired up to write her magnum opus: Eat, Pray, Love. Which is short for: Gluttony, Idolatry, Fornication.
Anyway, forget helping others or relieving human suffering. That would require sacrificial love; the kind of love that smacks uncomfortably close to, I dunno, true religion. And there's no glamorous enlightenment in that. Borrrrriiiing!
Still, I get it. I understand why this sort of tripe is such a huge hit. Humans are searching for transcendence, for God. Apparently, a lot of Americans are in love with the god of self. I mean, how else did this book come to be such a "phenomenon"?
I'll tell you how. It's called: buy now, pay later. Minimal effort (look inward), maximum results (you are God)! What's not to love?
Plus, it's easy to look the part. Throw a few tribal face-masks up on your wall, maybe place a huge gong in the middle of your living room and pretty soon, you can be an enlightened guru, too.
What I'm wondering, though, is if Julia Roberts is questioning this stuff. During her Oprah interview, she seemed a bit–um,–detached from the "spell" of Eat, Pray, Love. Oprah kept asking what the book meant to her and Julia kept talking about her kids. Bad move, Jules.
Julia even said (GASP!) she would easily pick her kids over her work. What? What? That's blasphemous talk in the religion of narcissism.
More of that kind of talk and before you know it, everyone will be pulling aside the curtain and discovering that the Great and Wonderful Self-Guru is really just a little old man working some cranks and levers.
Sheesh, Julia. WAY TO STAY ON MESSAGE.