Tom, Brad, Angelina, Ben, Jen, Brittany, Justin, Lindsay, J-Lo, Jess.
Jeez.
How much can a person take? Everywhere I turn, their designer shades, toothy smiles and chasmic cleavage beckon me to leave my anonymous, pathetic life behind and join them in the land of eternal importance, where no detail is too inconsequential to escape headline coverage by “Us” (Not You, Loser), “People” (Only Eternally Important Ones, of course) and “in Touch” (Please Don’t, Sick-O).
And with tonight’s Academy Awards ceremonies, the world will be getting an eyeful.
Our culture’s fascination with celebrities fascinates me, though I must admit it’s a sick fascination. I simply can’t fathom why seemingly rational people would spend their precious time on earth obsessing about how Kirstie dissed Oprah, whether Jen is sexier than Angelina, and why Renée Zellweger could be pregnant by an alien with an uncanny resemblance to Gandhi.
But that doesn’t stop me from hazarding a guess or three.
Guess No. 1: Liberals. While I have little proof, it’s extremely probable, isn’t it? I mean, it’s the perfect cover for them, using their clever lefty Hollywood friends to send heinous subliminal messages such as “think,” “conserve,” “care,” and “pollution is, like, a total bummer” to the huge 18-24 demographic. In the last issue of Cosmo, I swear Julia Roberts’ hair was coiffed in the general shape of Iraq, though the meaning was unclear. Some kind of desperate anti-war statement or just another one of Julia’s bad hair days? My guess: just another typically muddled anti-everything liberal rant.
Guess No. 2: Another conspiracy theory has it that celebrity mags are really part of an al-Qaeda plot to overthrow the U.S. from within. Osama bin Laden has long realized that a dumber America is a more vulnerable America. Already in clandestine control of numerous “star” rags, Osama’s next move is rumored to be into the as-yet-only- lightly-tapped mother lode: political celebrities. In addition to “Us” will be “Vote for Us.” “People” will give birth to “ME.” And “in Touch,” with a nod to the current administration, will spawn “out of Touch.”
Ugly, hair-pulling spats between the Bush twins and the Olsen twins will get major coverage, as will Hilary’s oft-rumored split with Bill in favor of that hottie Paul Wolfowitz. But the big bombshell will be the ultra-secret CIA photo of the two sets of micro scars on Dick Cheney’s forehead, confirming his horn removal. (Similar, yet very different, is the report on the secret Clinton operation funded by Focus on the Family.)
Then, as America pores over the aforementioned tabloids and sits glued to hourly editions of “The Oval Office Insider,” al-Qaeda lieutenants, posing as well-armed paparazzi, strike, taking both Condi Rice and Lindsay Lohan hostage as bargaining chips. A dumbstruck America agrees to surrender, but insists that bin Laden wait until the next commercial.
Guess No. 3: No conspiracy here. Though our culture has long been obsessed with youth, looks and wealth, today a lot of celebrities are famous just for being famous. That’s really all they do. Oh, sure, some of them say they’re “actors” like Keanu Reeves, or “singers,” like Ashlee Simpson, or “writers,” like Madonna. But mainly, they’re just famous. Some are super-famous, like Michael Jackson. When they get that famous, they’re so famous they turn into things that are famous, like the planet Uranus or the Erie Canal.
They don’t even have to do anything anymore. Except, you know, be.
Which brings me to my point. In America, people admire people who are famous just for being famous. It’s a great way to make a ton of money and have a lot of people who wish they were famous buy the magazines you’re in as a famous person who’s famous for being famous. That makes you more famous, which leads to endorsements that make you even more money you didn’t earn, which gets you even closer to being super-famous. It’s a lot like the American Dream.
And yet, celebrities do seem to be filling some kind of void. Maybe the question we should be asking ourselves isn’t why celebrities, but why the void.
Mark Moe is a retired English teacher.
