Posted on 06/27/2009 12:05:03 PM PDT by JoeProBono
There were many strange tragedies to Michael Jackson's life, but an unexpected sadness is that, in death, this huge global celebrity makes me think, not of Thriller, not even of the Jackson 5, but of a 47-year-old Scottish woman who was allegedly last seen in a hotel in Liverpool crying for her cat, Pebbles. Jackson's death and Susan Boyle's all too obvious unhappiness both stem from the same source: fame. I have never believed, and nothing in the past few weeks has altered my certainty, that one can be famous in today's world of mass media and 24-hour paparazzi and lead a happy, mentally healthy life.
How could it possibly be any different? You are isolated in a tunnel of paranoia where it feels like anyone with a camera phone is filming you for the celebrity website tmz.com, and they probably are.....
(Excerpt) Read more at guardian.co.uk ...
Those that are “humbled” by their fame talk and pose for the media and fans and Paparazzi. (Could it be they have nothing to hide?)
Those that become inflated by their fame, because they happen to have a gift, do what any self-absorbed person does.
The airheads will stand in front of you complaining of the paparazzi yet will stop in mid sentence at the sight of paparazzi to rush in front of their cameras.
You can’t trust cats or chimps.
So that’s why the White House is full of Monkey’s and P***IES......
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