This Has Been A Long Time Comin'.

An overactive mind is a hell of a thing to waste. However, it is also a royal bitch of a matter to deal with on a day to day basis as well. One of the many fruits of such said condition is an active interest in more than a few things that are known to keep the grey matter in a constant state of wrinkling up and tingling from seemingly never ending stimulation. One of these pet projects of circulating analytical examination is Society's actions, reactions, and obsessions with the cult of celebrity. While being something that I myself can admit guilt of at a certain degree of this from time to time as well. (So you can go ahead and just save any hopes of attaching the hypocrisy banner upon my neck during or after reading this.)

Entertainment Weekly, TMZ, Entertainment Tonight, Cribs, Celebrity Rehab, The Surreal Life, and the list goes on and on and on and...Well, you get the point. There is ostensibly no real end to the amount of media available to anyone with a rabid lust to for learning about the platinum card packing personality of their particular choice. The pros of a 24 hour news cycle also came along with a preoccupation to spend 7 days a week scouring over any and all inane details that can be gained from the kind of attention that would gain someone a restraining order, a weekend in jail, and quite probably a royal ass beating from a personal body guard or five if there weren't a digital avenue absolutely packed with other faceless random idiots searching the same shit in between the victim of choice and their pseudo potential prowler. With the fervent lust for any and all tidbits of supposedly "juicy exclusive" updates and "insider scoops" that can be found at absolutely any given moment. It's amazing that up to this point the location of Angelina Jolie's last ass play provided hemorrhoid and the size of the suppository used haven't already been relayed onto a Times Square Ticker or broadcast live with minute by minute updates as to if the Preparation H has taken to it yet on The Smoking Gun.

Making my way through this life, it's not hard to see that some people do live vicariously through others. For whatever reasons, it's become not only socially acceptable but EXTREMELY marketable as well if the trend not only continues but finds a way to exacerbate itself as the demographics change and sway. Romance novels will always be eaten up by lonely housewives who wish that their inattentive asshole husbands would pay attention to them. Those said douche tool husbands will always buy the porn starring the grizzly bear chested porn star banging a much desired platinum haired knob gobbler of the week. Then that "actor" will wind up back at home reading another cheesy romance novel in the arms of his husband later that night, and the cycle begins anew the next day, in five thousand different places with ten thousand different names. There does appear to be a kind of sick cyclical order to it all. We are all finding a way to feed off each other, but some people take their place in the chain a little too seriously, and have far too fervent a passion for the insignificant and meaningless that anyone else with a half a broken condom full of sense would pass off and piss away in half a second flat. As long as there is still a dime to be made on the empty lives of others by using the warped kaleidoscope of modern media, there will always be someone there to show others what they only wish they had. When in reality those that are being envied in all actuality are probably just as jealous of their admirers for the simple fact that they do not have the microscope of a million eyes upon them at any given moment.

Every single one of these Hollywood Gods/Goddesses, Musical Geniuses, Sports Adonises, and Other Superstars did come out of a Mother's womb just the same as you, and they will all be going in a box or urn and answering to whatever Deity they chose just the same as you when this ride called life is over. We all have a life to live, and to do so in our own way. It's alright to be a fan, and it's perfectly natural to identify with someone whom may have had a similar style life as you. However if you start to think that they are speaking to you in an unspoken language through their movies, singing to you without meeting through their music, or are waiting for you to break into their house someday in an act of impulsive love at first sight. It's probably time to get your medication levels either checked or initiated to begin with. Granted, not all of us are going to be rock stars, movie icons, or outstanding novelists. You know what, that's okay. It's just up to us to live out this grand experiment called life, and take it all in along the way as we go. So next time you catch up with someone informing you as to what kind of three ply dingle berry remover Tom Cruise decided to use just after his last Scientology gangbang/therapy session, take a step back for a second. Then go and read a story to your daughter, mow your lawn, or just talk to your significant other. Catch up on your own life, and make your own story for others to envy.

That's My Word.
~Sid~