It’s safe to say that I have a fractious relationship with celebrities.
They’re stupid, self-involved, preening, shallow, predictable, entitled, obsessed with their image, convinced they’re better than me and they spuriously demand privacy when they’re secretly terrified of it.
I also wish I had their lives.
Who wouldn’t want to have porcelain-perfect skin, improbably chiselled features and a relentlessly polished presentation? How about more money to go with more fun, more sex, more options, more adulation, more recognition, more applause, more travel, less rules and less stress?
I’ll take it. And I don’t feel guilty about being attracted to their shallow qualities. Research shows that babies are drawn to beautiful faces far more than ugly ones, which suggests that our ability to recognize and appreciate beauty is innate, not learnt.
But I can envy them and despise them at the same time. Or rather, I despise what they stand for. There are two reasons.
One, I dislike them because I think their impossibly perfect and stimulating lives set a standard for the rest of us, which makes it nigh-on impossible to accept the banality and drudgery of our own less-than-fascinating lives.
And two, I reserve special ire for the so-called celebrity culture (has there ever been a bigger oxymoron than the phrase ‘celebrity culture’?) multimedia machine, which has become a behemoth, responsible for the collective dumbing down of our collective IQs, raining down on us a relentless barrage of inane, trivial, shallow, excruciatingly-inconsequential drivel about the most mind-bendingly dull details of whatever witless floozy who happens to be, OMG, so hot right now.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m entertained by celebrity news, like everyone else. I just don’t enjoy that celebrity news has replaced the actual news in importance. It makes us all far less useful and enriches our lives in any meaningful capacity, not one jot.
Celebrity is like porn. No, not like porn, it is porn. It’s a fantasy, harmless in the right context and reasonably small doses, as long as it doesn’t become a substitute for reality. But if it becomes an obsession, it can warp your sense of reality and mess up your priorities.
In a lot of ways, it’s actually more destructive and harmful than porn, because at least kids don’t get to live on a regular daily diet of porn. Not that I didn’t try, when I was that age. But whereas parents rightly protect their kids from drugs and drink, celebrity and a preoccupation with self-image isn’t seen as something that requires regulation.
A couple of (potential) flaws in my argument, not to mention my character: For one thing, celebrity can’t affect you if you don’t pay any attention to it.
True, but my rebuttal is that it’s now so pervasive and omnipresent that it’s almost impossible to do anything or go anywhere without brushing up against its permanently semi-erect member.
Secondly, you might be able to distinguish between fantasy and reality, but plenty others can’t. And if you have kids, they don’t even have the tools to distinguish. It’s your job to provide them with those tools and also protect them from the sensory overload.
We live in an age of voyeurism and some people suggest cutting the feed completely (i.e. stop watching TV). I don’t know if that’s realistic. Or healthy.
Shutting out the media would be as successful as stopping a tidal wave with a toy bucket. Also, we live in an age where our success, socially and professionally, relies on us being plugged into the matrix on a continuous basis. And with the growing demands and stress of modern living, who can blame us for craving escapism?
I’m not being an alarmist with talk of escapism and fantasy drugs. Consider the effects that online games like World of Warcraft and Second Life are having in countries like China and the US, where gamers are ranking achievement in World of Warcraft as more crucial than having a job or spending time with family. No surprise when objects you find in the game (say a ‘magic sword’) have a real-world value can be “sold on EBay for real money!
Additionally, people are becoming more isolated and relationships are breaking down, due to dedicated players spending up to 60 hours online, every week. And on Second Life, a couple recently filed for divorce when the wife caught her husband’s online character (called an Avatar) fooling around with another online character!
My point is simple. Everyone has an addiction and if you think you’re the exception, look again: drugs, drink, TV, celebrity obsession, sex, video games, online games, romance novels, extreme sports, soap operas, whatever. These addictions, if they’re left unchecked, can stop us from making good choices and improving our lives. Escapism can’t be the answer, because too many important things are at stake: from making a good living to ensuring that we’re not being manipulated by the government to saving the planet. And raising our kids.
And here’s a good piece of wisdom from the online gaming community that might be applicable to everyone: Before you get a Second Life, make sure you have a first one.
Mohammed Nassar was kidnapped at birth and forced to work in advertising, in Cairo, New York and London. Today, his main concern is that archaeologists will one day stumble upon his desk, debate the value of his profession and judge him. Feel free to email him at [email protected].
