By Scott Brown
Updated July 05, 2006 at 12:00 PM EDT
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The blogfather is confused. He doesn’t understand why friends and coworkers keep sending him cat-themed video after cat-themed video after cat-themed video. (That last one is the first a series of three — the conclusion is a Chayefsky-ian masterpiece.

Let’s let Mickey in on what most of us know already: Actors are no longer worth the money. Reality is nearing exhaustion. Even American Idol isn’t forever. What’s next? Cats. Much like actors, they ignore direction and prefer indolence to industry. But unlike actors, they can be “fixed” at the beginning of their careers, thereby sparing us all countless wasted man hours of tabloid-reading. Cats, ladies and gentlemen. Cats who fight and talk and practice responsible, common-sense journalism. And, yes, ladies and gentlemen, cats who do, indeed, dance. The pictures got small a long time ago; it’s time the actors got small too. Small and fuzzy and, hopefully, hypoallergenic. (I have yet to overcome my debilitating “Valderrama rash.”)

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