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I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here! A Pajiba Sunday Sermon | Pajiba: Scathing Reviews, Bitchy People
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I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here! A Pajiba Sunday Sermon

By Cindy Davis | Posted Under Miscellaneous | Share |


paparazzi.jpg

Celebrities: Can’t live with them, can’t live without them. We’re addicted, aren’t we? I’ve got so many crushes (Alexander Skarsgård, Liam Neeson, Jamie Bamber, Morrissey, Ben Kingsley, Naveen Andrews, Josh Holloway—start with a blond, end with a blond), I can hardly begin to name the tip of the iceberg. We like to look at their pictures, read about their personal lives, complain about their who significant others are, make fun of what they wear, praise or chastise their political views and shun them when their egos get out of hand. Meanwhile, the celebrities themselves often seem ill-equipped to handle their fame, falling victim to vices of excess or blaming everyone else for what they’ve brought upon themselves. I suppose on the ride up the roller-coaster of fame, it feels all well and good until they hit the top of the first hill. Then suddenly it’s all, “How’d I get up here? Who will help me? I didn’t know there was going to be another side to the mountain!”

In a recent interview with GQ magazine, Billy Ray Cyrus said that his daughter Miley’s Disney show destroyed his family and that he would “erase it all in a second if I could.” Well pardon me Billy, but since you were already part of the celebrity machine yourself, it could have been no surprise that your young daughter got swallowed up—and for that matter you practically fed her to the wood-chipper yourself. I don’t know about the rest of you “regular people” out there but I, for one, am getting tired of celebrity whiners; “Oh, I’m all hooked on sex and porn and drugs and alcohol! I had no idea how hard it would be to make a kajillion dollars! Why must I always be followed by paparazzi? It’s so hard to live a normal life!”

Aren’t you the same celebrities who would have clawed out another person’s eyes to get your first gig? Wasn’t it you, so thrilled you couldn’t stop smiling, when your first show or movie became a hit and allowed you to earn all that cash and fame? Didn’t we see you on the cover of People magazine; read your gratitude to so and so for giving you the break that set your career in motion? I know that was you, talking to all the Weeklys about the great clothes and getting your hair and make-up done, the gift bags you scored at the awards shows and the amazing parties you get to attend. We saw you chatting on the morning shows about how wonderful it is to travel the world, promoting your latest project. Wasn’t it you that started wearing only the finest shoes, carrying the latest handbags and talking about how you just couldn’t fly if you didn’t have the best, most expensive, hydrating mist (made of rare elephant tears) with which to spray your face? I know there was something about you trotting the globe with a stylist, a make-up artist and that thousand-dollar-a-cut, hairdresser trailing along. There were the television interviews where you talked about how you had to stay in perfect shape, so you’d connected with this miracle personal trainer that comes to your house and drags you out of your bed every morning. And after that your personal chef makes your macrobiotic, organic, free-range, non-caloric breakfast shake, which is all you really need to get you through your day—well that and your five nannies and your masseuse and your home and work assistants and your bath boy. We checked out your web site, the one where you tell the rest of us just what we can do and how we should do it if we want to be anywhere near the perfection that is you. And the last time I saw you on that red carpet, bulbs flashing in competition with your sparkling, blindingly white teeth, you looked pretty damned relaxed and happy—in your element, even. So pardon me if we, the audience, take issue with your fretting over the perils of being famous. Perhaps you should have taken a closer look at the handbook before you joined up.

What’s that, you say you didn’t know there were rules? Come on now, you should know nothing comes for free, you little celebretards. Pull up a chair and read this list of the minimum requirements of becoming a famous person:

1. If nepotism allowed you to become a celebrity, you are never to complain about your line of work. Ever. Likewise, if you are fool enough to bring your child into your celebworld, you shall never wonder aloud that the machine hath devoured your precious one.

2. You shall accept, without reservation, ire or surprise that no less than seventy-five percent of your “job” as a celebrity (actor, musician, writer, director, untalented hack, celebutant, socialite, etc.) is media whoring and fan appeasement. You shall accept that every aspect of your life, public and private, will be inspected and aired, without exception.

3. If you, celebrity A, should decide to enter into wedlock, domestic partnership or other such serious relationship with any celebrity B, you may never feign or otherwise express wonderment at the excessive photography, media or public obsession with said relationship. Similarly, you shall accept with complete and utter resignation that the severing of such a relationship will bring twice as much attention.

4. If you have even dreamed of becoming a celebrity, never, ever, not for one millisecond, shall you remove any article of clothing for a photographer (professional or not) without realizing the consequences of said action. It will be made public, no matter how secretive or clever you think (or your co-conspirator) you are. Never, ever pose nude for “private” photos or make a sex tape without the full intention of them being made public. Never, ever pretend you didn’t know that would happen.

5. You will not get away with cheating, accept this fact. (You can, however, sometimes get away with murder.)

6. If you have a tendency for excess, you accept that these excesses shall be exploited for public pleasure, mockery, documentation (including written, photographic and video forms) and in some cases you may be eligible for invitation-only rehabilitation centers or reality shows. If you are the parent of a celebretard who falls “victim” to his own excess, it is your responsibility alone to yank said child from the public eye, to rehab that child by any means necessary and to accept any public criticism you shall receive without complaint.

7. If you are ashamed of your sexual preferences you should not become a celebrity. If you think you can hide your sexual preferences, you are wrong. If you can’t handle having your sexuality speculated over, you should not become a celebrity. If you enter celebrityhood regardless of these warnings and you try to hide your sexuality, you shall willingly be exploited by the machine.

8. If you have plastic surgery, enhancements made to your assets, visit doctors or therapists or gain or lose weight, you shall knowingly and willingly accept being exploited by the machine. You shall not cry or complain when you are publicly scrutinized, speculated over or mocked.

9. If you don’t care what people think of you, your lifestyle, your looks, your religion, your marital status, your parental status, your drinking, drugging or screwing around, your happiness or the lack thereof, then don’t comment on any of these things to the media. If you do comment, the machine will appropriately eat your words, chew them up, spit them out of context and you will be publicly mocked.

10. If you can’t handle being a piece of meat, don’t jump on the plate. If you jump onto the plate, you will be devoured.


In closing, if you have any designs on being famous, I hope you will print out this handy list and read it over a few times—maybe even memorize the rules so that if you do become a celebrity, you’ll be able to say, “Yeah, I knew that was going to happen. I’m fine.” You need to realize that in becoming rich and famous, you’re not only fulfilling your dreams, you’re becoming ours. It’s not all about you any more. It’s about us, looking at you and deciding if you are worthy of our time. Are you pretty enough? Do we want to fuck you? Or do we just want to make you the butt of our jokes? Whatever it is, you’ll do it and you’ll like it.

Now please, get out there and enjoy your fame.










PopCo by Scarlett Thomas | Pajiba After Dark 2/20/11




Comments

Is this a deal with the devil?

Posted by: sittingpat at February 20, 2011 3:07 PM

I don't deny that there is a often a certain level of hypocrisy, in the fame circus. I feel zero pity for people like Paris Hilton, when their foibles are brought to light. Actually, I feel less sympathy for, "Reality stars," than I do for performers. Yes, there should be a level of awareness that dealing with press, etc., is part of the job. However, I don't think that giving up one's humanity, and a right to at least some boundaries/privacy, is inherent in being a performer. Call people out on stupid crap they do in public, or say in the press - fine. Invade people's privacy/home/trash and stalk them, to the point where it causes physical harm or death? NO. That's not part of the job, that's the media, trying to feed our obsession. And WE are responsible for that. Bear in mind, that any of us who blog publicly, would be subject to the same rules, because fame is now a fluid term. There's actual fame, (for work done) fame for fame (usually to do with money/shenanigans,) reality fame (signing up for shenanigans/public starvation/torture/competition) and internet fame.
We live in public, we live in glass houses, and we might all want to think about that.

Posted by: kristenmchugh22 at February 20, 2011 3:31 PM

"We live in public, we live in glass houses, and we might all want to think about that."

http://chrispetersen25.files.wordpress.com/2011/01/keanu-reeves-whoa.jpg

Posted by: Whalen at February 20, 2011 4:00 PM

I acknowledge the rules,and am willing to follow them.

I swear to whore myself out for the media,and appease my fans.

Sign me up.

Posted by: Case at February 20, 2011 4:21 PM

SittingPat, it's the Reader's Digest condensed version.

Posted by: The Wanderer at February 20, 2011 4:39 PM

10. If you can’t handle being a piece of meat, don’t jump on the plate. If you jump onto the plate, you will be devoured.


Just about the most perfect rule of celebrity ever printed! Bravo!!
Though I respect the celebrity that will not reveal things of a personal nature, I enjoy the hell out of the ones that regurgitate every aspect of their personal lives.

Posted by: jan at February 20, 2011 5:17 PM

Elephant tears? Where can I get some? Seriously, if I can't BE a celebrity, I want to have what they have!!!

Posted by: sharon at February 20, 2011 5:19 PM

Pfffft elephant tears? THE best hidrating mist can only be harvested from the bladders of newborn hippopotami.

Posted by: BarbadoSlim at February 20, 2011 5:48 PM

It feels like there's a light mist of goop all over this list...

Posted by: Jerry at February 20, 2011 6:25 PM

Amen.

Posted by: Candee at February 20, 2011 6:46 PM

I wonder what a celebrity world would be like if they all followed these 10 commandments?

And #10 is brilliant. Well put.

Posted by: Parker at February 20, 2011 7:44 PM

Harsh, and completely perfect in every way.

I have zero sympathy for problems these people have created for themselves.

I'd add an extra rule:

11. If you don't want to be photographed, stay the fuck at home, or stay away from places where you KNOW you will be photographed. Don't come crying to me when you're found at the hottest club in town, being a fuckwit in front of everyone in the world who has a picture phone.

Posted by: Figgy at February 20, 2011 8:30 PM

I am an actor and singer. No, you've never seen me. I stick to community theater and church shows.

Years ago, I was depressed, walking to work because I didn't have enough money to buy gas, when I spotted a very attractive, well-dressed lady standing across the street peering at me intensely. After a few moments, she made her way purposefully across the street, right toward me, and when she got to me, extended her hand for me to shake, and told me how much she had enjoyed my performance of "Macbeth".

Of course, I was very flattered, and told her so, but I was also more than a little creeped out.

I cannot imagine living like that every day. Perhaps that's why none of you have ever seen me.

Yes, if we attain the heights of fame, we must accept the stuff that comes with it, but we don't often think of that going in.

I am thankful that I got a taste of it before it was too late.

Maybe someday I will hit it big and you will know me then. If that ever happens, I'll see you at that bar in Philly that you all seem to frequent.

Until then, I'll just crawl back to the anonymity I have so judiciously cultivated for myself.

-Ralphie

Posted by: Ralphie at February 20, 2011 8:38 PM



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