The Golden Train Wreck: or, “How I learned not to care about Anna Nichole, Brittany, Lindsay, etc.”

February 17, 2007


America is in thrall over the self immolation of the bright, pretty thing known as Anna Nichole Smith.  Like a beautiful bird eaten by the crocodile of addiction, Ms.Smith succumbed to the rigors of the “pop life”.  Known more for her propensity to take her clothes off, and her less than MENSA intelligence,  she suffered the slings and arrows of the paparazzi, as she clung to her fifteen minuets of fame like a drowning person to a life preserver.

That being said, she has become an example of our newest American contact sport, “train-wrecking”.  We have not only become obsessed with fame, but now we have become enthralled in the self-destruction of our celebrities.  In just a few hours, Brittany Spears’ new “lost-a-fight-with-a-hair-razor”  hair style has been seen across the whole of the Earth’s surface.  We revel in the clay feet of our golden idols.

Once upon a time, people achieved fame because they actually “did” something.  Now, they are famous because…well, that is the question.  Why are we even paying attention to these people, whose apparent level of dysfunction is so high that they cannot help but attract attention?  Like the screaming child in the mall, these failed adults seem to need us to notice them. 

The time has come to move along, nothing REAL to see here.


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