This could be a long one, so I would suggest that you go pop the kettle on and find the packet of hob-nobs and settle in for at least 5 minuets of mind-numbing tedium entertainment.
I want to start off this rant about the cult of the ‘celebrity’. As some of you will be aware, the last few days has given rise to some of the best news of the year, forget the tragic death of Benosire Bhutto (which could well result in destabilising an already troubled country) or any other globally important issue that is always pushed to the side to make way for some ‘juicy’ little bit of ‘celebrity’ gossip. I really can’t understand why people find other people’s lives so interesting. I can understand if it’s a personal friend or family member, but are we spending huge amounts of our lives worrying about some has been z list celebrity and what they get up to in there personal lives? I have always made it clear; I really am not interested in celebrities. Monkey has now taken to stalking z-list-ers on facebook, its bad enough that he has followed Patsy Palmer round Waitrose and Julian Clarey around the local Tesco (the Pasty Palmer incident was last week, and spending 20 minuets in a packed Waitrose on the Saturday before Christmas following a former East Enders cast member around the bread section is something that I could well have done without.)
So it filled my little stoney heart to almost 1/16th full to see that Multi Billionaire Barron Hilton (yes that is his name) has become so pissed off with his wayward grand-daughter that he has changed his will. Yes, Grandfather Hilton has cut wastrel socialite Paris out of his will by giving away over 97% to charity. I had to give a sly chuckle, I mean what has she ever done to deserve that type of money (she would have had a share in a £1.3 billion fortune) could I forgive her for making the ‘naughty’ video? – possibly, could I have forgiven her for the D.U.I? – possibly, but I could never forgive her for making an album.
So why, you maybe asking, are you so relieved about this. Well, humble reader, it means that no matter how famous you are, even if you have no talent, no ability, no real personality, no matter how many time you ‘find’ god (whoops, there he is down the back of the sofa) your actions do have real consequences. While I can’t imagine that she will end up in a grotty bed-sit with mould growing on the walls, it will mean that the over privileged life style that she has become to embody will now have to be scaled back. Will we now find Paris doing infomercials on the late night shopping channel? Possibly not – although she will no doubt try to merchandise her name to within a cent of its worth.
Will she try and make a name for herself? Well she has tried acting (wooden), singing (poorly) and by being herself (both poorly and woodenly). So what else can she do? office cleaner? Call Centre monkey? Well these jobs can be done by anyone (yes even I have done both of these jobs) but they do take some level of competence something that I fear dear sweet Paris lacks.
While there is a little part of me that feels sorry for the little lamb, I feel that she and her ilk have given rise to the status of the under achieving woman. She has spawned the idea that you can now be famous just for being a no-one. I’m sorry but that is a really hideous and crassly stupid idea. We now have a generation of teenage (and even sadder, pre-teen) girls believing that you don’t need to have a brain or work ethic to get ahead. You just have to look at things like Pop Idol, Big Brother and the like. People who have NO talent, NO experience and NO ability, believe that just because that have it in their minds that they should be famous. I have to stress, I have real admiration for those people who have put the effort, work and practice into being a singer/actor/model/dancer, its hard work and if you make it you disserve all that you get. But in the modern age of rewarding mediocrity we have lost site of the effort and work that is required to get ahead.
I really hope that for my two little nieces (Evie 3 and a bit and Eliza almost 1) that when they grow up they look at their real role models, their mother, their grandmothers, their great grandmothers, hell they could even look at me as a role model (something which I think I could, given lots of encouragement and used fiver’s, get used to.). I would like them to be writers, doctors, professional dancers, vets, pilots, leaders of there own dictatorships (trust me if they look up to there mother that could happen!) I want them to have a sense of pride of the job that they do. I would NOT want them looking up to some wafer thin bint, who has not real talent and has spent no time gaining the talent that the media has thrust upon them.
I feel better now that it’s off my chest
Normal service will resume shortly
sf xxx
