country is the new shakira

Video synchronicity at the gym:

CMT and VH1 playing adjacent on the wall o' tubes in front of the elliptical machine. On the V, the new Goo Goo Dolls ballad: slightly puffy, too-old-for-his-haircut Johnny Rzeznik emotes disappointment and hope while two children wander plaintively about. On the other, Rascal Flatts: fully puffy, in fact too-puffy-for-his-haircut Gary LeVox emotes ibid. while two high schoolers wander plaintively through a tough scenario. Switch to the next video: on VH1 Shakira rubs her boy's naked torso while railing about how he dumped her and she's gonna get him; on CMT, Billy Currington gets his naked torso rubbed by some model while cooing about how he must have done something right. This ten minutes was the image mash-up from hell, convincing me once again that archetypes eat everything.

Addendum: that damn Rascal Flatts video gave me one of those extremely irritating Kodak commecial moments, where you find yourself choking up with tears at the most manipulative sentimental trigger ever. Gotta hand it to that vid director: the cancer-victim prom pick-up, in which boyfriend reveals he's shaved his head to match his chemo sweetie, hits a new level of maudlin. Country's still good for somethin' I guess....