a strange invitation


you looked better on micepace
February 17, 2008, 10:30 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized
When it transpired that Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie were not planning to buy Africa (or at least the chunk of the Archipelago of World Islands shaped like it), I couldn’t help feeling slightly cheated. If the Hollywood star system insists on paying these people vast sums of money for doing absolutely nothing at all, then they could at least have the decency to allow us to mould them into the bloated mutants we expect them to be*.
The story seemed to a perfect addition to the mythology of the stars involved. Angelina Jolie for example, appears in the media as either a vampyric baby stealer, or a vicious harpy stalking the ruins of New Orleans, depending on who you read. From this perspective, the fact that the World Islands story broke at all was more a reflection of the needs and desires of the story’s audience than an insight into the lives of the Hollywood stars. Hollywood gossip tends to spin so far from it’s nucleus that the truth seldom gets in the way of a good story, largely because although interest in celebrity is widespread, it is generally superficial. Certainly, I’d much rather believe that Marylin Manson cut his teeth on the way to goth super-stardom by playing that geeky Jew from The Wonder Years and let’s face it, Beck Hanson was far more interesting once he’d made the transition from slacker icon to murdering Scientologist: it meant that all his talk about robots and giant dildos crushing the sun were not simply the ironic ramblings of a whimsical mind, but the product of a bizarre religious conviction .

Although OK! or Hello! Magazine exist primarily to comfort the reader by revealing the human traits of celebrities, the sight of Sarah Michelle Gellar’s bingo wings or Clooney’s beer belly only serve to maintain the conspiracy, allowing the reader to position these megastars within the realms of aspiration. Sure, you might not have the money, or the power, but just like them, you have the imperfect skin, or the minor alcohol problem. The fact that we are surprised that they possess these traits is the greatest conspiracy of all. If celebrities have must continue to dominate the media, I’d rather read that Britney Spears ate her own baby than wore the same dress as Halle Berry to a film premiere. That way, the next time I see Andy McDowell modeling incontinence pants on TV, I can at least entertain the idea that she’s spending the money on raising a cyborg army, rather than botox and liposuction.

*This is something that Tom Cruise’s PR Team have long understood, although it could be argued that Michael Jackson has been overly zealous in his efforts to maintain our interest, to the point where dangling an infant from the third floor of his hotel room was probably one of the least remarkable things he’s ever done.
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