Idols
I’ve been cruising around Sarah Hepola’s site, following links hither and yon. I went to her article on interviewing celebrities, as well as to this audio clip (25-minute .mp3 file) of Terry Gross interviewing Gene Simmons last year. It’s pretty funny to listen to, since the interview starts out okay, but soon devolves as Gene starts acting like a rockstar and an ass, and the normally unflappable Terry Gross is left speechless at some points and starts fighting back at others. Classic train wreck.
Sarah’s article on interviewing, especially the part about the junket she went to, reminded me how much I detest Hollywood and the pack of flies that seem to follow celebrities everywhere. I mean, I enjoy movies and TV shows, and I’ll glance at the IMDB often to see what someone has been in in the past, or what they’re doing next, but my interest stops there. I don’t need to know about their lives or where they eat or any of that. My wife watches E.T. every now and then, and I try to tune it out from my seat at the computer, but that stuff is just so mind-numbing; it makes me want to switch to Jerry Springer just to get away from it.
I don’t know if this attitude is normal for someone who lives “out in the sticks” (okay, I’m only half an hour away from Lake Tahoe. But it’s not like I see Bill Cosby playing blackjack every time I go up there). You always hear about the archetypal farm-girl from Kansas, who dreams of moving to LA and meeting all the celebrities. And downtown Hollywood is always popular and crowded, usually with out-of-town tourists, even though that place is seedier than 1975 Times Square. I don’t even feel safe parking my car down there, but people travel across half the country just to stand next to a wax dummy of Ahhnold and put their hands in his cement imprints for good luck. I just don’t get it.
Anyway, what’s my point? Probably that my priorities are screwed up. My idols aren’t on TV or in the movies, they’re writers and they’re on the Web. I’d rather spend fifteen minutes chatting with James Lileks or David Weinberger, or even Sarah Hepola, than Tom Cruise or Nicholas Cage. And I don’t need breathless “entertainment correspondents” giving me the latest “star news” in 30 second chunks. I can just go to thier damn sites and read it for myself, in their words. Thanks but no thanks, Hollywood.
And oh yeah, go read Sarah’s site. A lot of good stuff there.
Filed under The Computer Vet Weblog
Congratulations for the indication in B.O.N, I was already some time and it was good… Standard of 13/02/2003 message (same to 12 laughters)… The only difference in this of today this in the fact of the bathing of yesterday rain, that was great to recharge the batteries. Another day I wrote about the Love, actually the a good friend's poetry and the return was very pleasant. They got to say that was a marketing blow, that although it has not been it, it ended up being, tends with result many frightened comments, calientes, nervous, afraid, but in the great majority positivistas. I believe that in this pré-war climate and with so much macabre news where the badly and the terror seems to be banalisados, to speak in love (and fuder also!!!), I kiss, the neighbor, the family, the friends, the friendship, the relationships… good, in the good things of the life, it is FUNDAMENTAL!!! If definition doesn't exist, if explanations nor they arrive close, if the rationalism for him seems child's game, he/she/it makes to fall theory for theory, if, for logic, anything one understands, what will do with so much inexplicação… MYSTERY! The poets will always mention it, the artists will bring it for very close the angels will make it to pulse, but the senses will only make it to flow, and the lovers will only proclaim it… INEFÁVEL!!
Kisses, hugs and a lot of love for you!!!
celebrity will never equal credibility. actors should keep their mouths shut once they are off the stage. daffy duck was the greatest actor of the last century.
I tend to agree. Bugs Bunny was likely better until he started making all of those commerical endorsements.