Celebraphilanthropy
May 11th 2008 01:33
At the risk of alarming my readers, I'm starting to think we live in a fairly shallow and self-centered society.
Oh, I grappled with starting this piece with that sentence. Such is my influence, I expect that upon publication, people will plunge themselves from office windows, everyone will sell their stocks in Humanity, and churches will experience either record high or record low attendances.
Regardless, it needs to be said, because it's beginning to affect our most precious commodity: celebrities.
Which celebrities do you think are made fun of the most? The ones who go on drug/alcohol binges? Who get arrested for DUIs, who get caught with prostitutes, who star in internet porn videos, who sire a bunch of offspring before leaving their family to run off with some rock star?
No. I mean, sure, late night talk show hosts always use them as their automatic go-to punchlines, but more often than not, these exploits are discussed with lighthearted affection. "Oh, Celebrity A! You and your crazy hooker-beating meth-amphetamine ways!" we say with a gentle nudge, shaking our heads like we've just tenderly reprimanded Beaver Cleaver for putting the rubbish bins out on a Tuesday when the garbage men actually come on the Monday!
We -- and by "we", I clearly mean "you and your ilk", I'm only pretending to stand by you on this so I don't sound superior for looking down on your utterly misguided ways -- are far more likely to pour our scorn upon any celebrity who behaves in a philanthropic manner.
Think about it. Movie stars, TV stars, and rock stars are far more likely to be hated by the public at large if they suddenly decide to take an interest in, say, the Sudanese genocide, or the conflict in the Middle East, or if they begin adopting children from third world countries.
I've never been entirely clear on why this is, but I have a theory. We turn to these movie stars and rock stars for escapism. We've just spent the day working, paying bills, and doing all the boring day-to-day stuff that's designed to stave off death for another few days. At the end of that, we want to escape to the fantasy world where we didn't go to accounting school and actually stuck it out with our high school band "Into The Mouths Of Babes", and became bigger than every one of God's illegitimate offspring the world over. We want to pretend for a moment that we're able to live that hedonistic lifestyle, where the bank account is overflowing to such a degree that no meal, no car, no physical possession is out of reach. Instead of getting this, we turn on the news to see a press conference where some handsome, sunglasses-wearing Irish rogue is talking about how we really need to watch what's happening to the peasants of Freedonia, and how he's going to spearhead the UN diplomatic taskforce just as soon as his Bitches 'N' Bling Tour of South America wraps up its last mega-stadium.
Thanks a lot, Roguish Rock Star. We wanted to hear about your thirteensome with an entire year's worth of Sports Illustrated models-of-the-month. We wanted to hear about how you'd bought a bottle of wine so old, its country of origin is listed as Pangea. We wanted to hear about the upgrades you made to your massive aircraft carrier, so it's now big enough to carry your smaller aircraft carriers. But no, you had to make us feel guilty because we didn't have any change for the soggy octogenarian Salvation Army guy standing in the rain outside the supermarket. I can't buy my kid the game console he really wants for his birthday, but you just impulse bought twelve Namibian infants during your latest cross-continental spending spree. I mean, I don't even know the name of half the countries in, say, North Africa, but you're able to debate the nuances of their economic policies on CNN wearing a suit so expensive that, if you turned it into a teepee, would still cost more than my house. Way to help with the escapism.
Naturally, we speak of these people in the most derisive way possible; not sure why they've pissed us off, but convinced that whatever it is, it's utterly unforgivable. All the while, we dream of being the best friend or lover of some vacuous non-entity who has no substantial talent or ability whatsoever.
I therefore have a compromise to suggest. On one hand, we want our Nouveau Royalty to set an example for the children who worship them, but on the other, they're there for a purpose, and if they're not going to fulfill that purpose (ie: behave like irresponsible movie/rock stars) then we have no use for them. The only reasonable course of action is for them to give large amount of money to charity anonymously, for what is charity if it is not anonymous? Of course, once they've done that, they need to go on TV and tell everybody that they give to charity anonymously... for what is celebrity if not celebrated?
Oh, I grappled with starting this piece with that sentence. Such is my influence, I expect that upon publication, people will plunge themselves from office windows, everyone will sell their stocks in Humanity, and churches will experience either record high or record low attendances.
Regardless, it needs to be said, because it's beginning to affect our most precious commodity: celebrities.
Which celebrities do you think are made fun of the most? The ones who go on drug/alcohol binges? Who get arrested for DUIs, who get caught with prostitutes, who star in internet porn videos, who sire a bunch of offspring before leaving their family to run off with some rock star?
No. I mean, sure, late night talk show hosts always use them as their automatic go-to punchlines, but more often than not, these exploits are discussed with lighthearted affection. "Oh, Celebrity A! You and your crazy hooker-beating meth-amphetamine ways!" we say with a gentle nudge, shaking our heads like we've just tenderly reprimanded Beaver Cleaver for putting the rubbish bins out on a Tuesday when the garbage men actually come on the Monday!
We -- and by "we", I clearly mean "you and your ilk", I'm only pretending to stand by you on this so I don't sound superior for looking down on your utterly misguided ways -- are far more likely to pour our scorn upon any celebrity who behaves in a philanthropic manner.
Think about it. Movie stars, TV stars, and rock stars are far more likely to be hated by the public at large if they suddenly decide to take an interest in, say, the Sudanese genocide, or the conflict in the Middle East, or if they begin adopting children from third world countries.
I've never been entirely clear on why this is, but I have a theory. We turn to these movie stars and rock stars for escapism. We've just spent the day working, paying bills, and doing all the boring day-to-day stuff that's designed to stave off death for another few days. At the end of that, we want to escape to the fantasy world where we didn't go to accounting school and actually stuck it out with our high school band "Into The Mouths Of Babes", and became bigger than every one of God's illegitimate offspring the world over. We want to pretend for a moment that we're able to live that hedonistic lifestyle, where the bank account is overflowing to such a degree that no meal, no car, no physical possession is out of reach. Instead of getting this, we turn on the news to see a press conference where some handsome, sunglasses-wearing Irish rogue is talking about how we really need to watch what's happening to the peasants of Freedonia, and how he's going to spearhead the UN diplomatic taskforce just as soon as his Bitches 'N' Bling Tour of South America wraps up its last mega-stadium.
Thanks a lot, Roguish Rock Star. We wanted to hear about your thirteensome with an entire year's worth of Sports Illustrated models-of-the-month. We wanted to hear about how you'd bought a bottle of wine so old, its country of origin is listed as Pangea. We wanted to hear about the upgrades you made to your massive aircraft carrier, so it's now big enough to carry your smaller aircraft carriers. But no, you had to make us feel guilty because we didn't have any change for the soggy octogenarian Salvation Army guy standing in the rain outside the supermarket. I can't buy my kid the game console he really wants for his birthday, but you just impulse bought twelve Namibian infants during your latest cross-continental spending spree. I mean, I don't even know the name of half the countries in, say, North Africa, but you're able to debate the nuances of their economic policies on CNN wearing a suit so expensive that, if you turned it into a teepee, would still cost more than my house. Way to help with the escapism.
Naturally, we speak of these people in the most derisive way possible; not sure why they've pissed us off, but convinced that whatever it is, it's utterly unforgivable. All the while, we dream of being the best friend or lover of some vacuous non-entity who has no substantial talent or ability whatsoever.
I therefore have a compromise to suggest. On one hand, we want our Nouveau Royalty to set an example for the children who worship them, but on the other, they're there for a purpose, and if they're not going to fulfill that purpose (ie: behave like irresponsible movie/rock stars) then we have no use for them. The only reasonable course of action is for them to give large amount of money to charity anonymously, for what is charity if it is not anonymous? Of course, once they've done that, they need to go on TV and tell everybody that they give to charity anonymously... for what is celebrity if not celebrated?
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