Sharon Osbourne, Earth’s only hope during comet strike

You have probably seen it before: Minor Celebrity X gets into a cat fight with minor Celebrity Y – usually on a reality TV show – and then X insults Y’s family (spouse, stepdaughter, disabled pet, all of the above) and then it’s oooon baby and glorious gloves-off mayhem ensues. Once breached, the sacred ‘don’t mention the family’ code will instantly become the catalyst to transform even the most morally-retarded degenerate into the Mother Teresa of family values.

Sharon Osbourne may not have invented the art form, but she perfected and owns it. Sharon is the Oppenheimer of celebrity: “Now I am become Hypocrisy, the destroyer of credibility.”

When defending her family, Sharon doesn’t just fight tooth and nail, she plays it Samuel L style, striking down upon the unsuspecting fool a great vengeance and furious anger. Sharon takes tawdry pathology and weaves a beautiful psychosis – in full flight the completeness of her destructive force is simply breathtaking, a true wonder of nature.

One encounter in particular comes to mind. Ricky Gervais tells the story during the encore of his stand up show Fame:

Ricky was sitting in on a recording of the live final for the last series of X Factor. He was at the back near Chris Tarrant and his daughter, as a part of a small group of celebrity guests.

Because it was a live show, every commercial break was filled with a Q&A session where audience members could put questions to the judges. Chris Tarrant, who had prearranged to ask a question, prefaced it with light-hearted banter: “Sharon, you’re married to an intelligent, articulate man…” He didn’t get any further because Sharon had already pulled his tongue out of his neck and was beating him around the head with it, so to speak.

An enraged Sharon screamed abuse at Chris including things such as “Don’t you dare dis my fucking family”, “at least I’m in a fucking marriage (referring to Tarrant’s then recent affair and marriage breakdown)”, and “No wonder your wife left you, Chris!”

Remember, all this happened in front of families with children, and Chris Tarrant’s own daughter. And there was nothing Chris could do to communicate that it was just good-natured fun, the blinkers went on and she publicly destroyed him.

During the next commercial break Sharon apologised to the audience: “I’d like to apologise to all the mummies and kiddies out there – but you know what it’s like when a loved one is attacked, you’re like a tigress, aren’t you?” At which she was roundly applauded by the audience, of course. How dare that Tarrant bastard attack her family!

Just the other day I was reading of yet another Sharon Osbourne incident during which she physically assaulted Megan Hauserman, a contestant on Sharon’s Charm School show (yes, unbelievably, the host assaults a contestant who is competing to develop proper etiquette). Megan made the stupid stupid mistake of calling Ozzy a bleepity bleep and it took about 15 professional strongmen to drag Sharon off Megan’s savaged ruin of a body.

Then I had a revelation: Sharons sublimely-channeled rage is our only hope in the event of a life-ending comet strike on the planet Earth.

Forget Willis, Affleck and Buscemi with their preposterous nuclear solutions. You want true Bruckheimeresque magic? Bring on Sharon Osbourne and her earth-saving anger disorder.

The only tricky bit will be somehow getting the comet to insult Ozzy, Jack or Kelly, Jerry Springer-style. This may require heavy sedation of Sharon combined with carefully scripted puppetry but these trifling details can be worked out later. The important detail is that Sharon will wreak fury apon the comet in an act tantamount to that of the Phoenix in X-Men: The Last Stand.

Yes, with the exception of my face and personality, I was actually created by a panel of 14 year-old school boys

It might just be me, but is there something curiously appealing about the wholeheartedness of Sharon’s insanely disproportionate overreactions? The extremeness and commitment is just so impressive.

Not only will she obliterate the comet, she will obliterate any other rogue celestial body from 100m to 40+ kilometres across within the surrounding 1000 light years, just to be sure.

Now to blame the media for everything in a startling conclusion:

I suspect that this particular anger derangement is a 20th century creation of the camera lens – a phenomen which has only grown in strength with the advent of the narcissistic-confessional that is reality television.

Not only tears and heartfelt emotion are suddenly possible under the priestlike gaze of the lens, but also freshly-discovered loyalty to family. The very people you threw your imported Chinese fertility sculpture at yesterday are suddenly the most precious things to you since the cosmetic surgeon you had txt message sex with last week.