In our world of interconnection, we are consistently afforded opportunities to promote ourselves, most notably through the avenue of social networks. Many of us have grown quite proficient in the art of self-endorsement, as subtly or overtly as the desire of the individual dictates. As I have striven to stay abreast of the trends, I have recognized an interesting proclivity that pervades much of our public discourse: a penchant for celebrity. From my perspective, the modern zeitgeist is founded in an intense selfishness that seeks to elevate things that are advantageous or pleasing to us, while casting away things that do not seem to elevate us in return. This tendency is present within all, to a degree, yet is most vividly displayed in the act of idolization. This natural propensity to adore something is often hi-jacked – the feeling is not allowed to dawdle and wander aimlessly, searching carefully for a worthy recipient. Rather, our hyper-connected society provides numerous celebrities whom we are told deserve our attention, and yes, even our worship. Our attention is often funneled straight toward the “idols” we have already collectively established as the representation of flawless beauty and exquisite achievement among the living. To seek guidance and cultural credibility outside the realm of the celebrity elite is seen as an ill-informed blunder. Who better to guide us to our better selves, people will exclaim. Maybe. But also, as I see it, who better to lead us away from ourselves and into a vain search for meaning in places where it is not to be found?
These days, celebrities seem almost mass produced – designed with the vain proclivities of the rabble in mind, pumped out of some assembly line with the speed necessary to catch the next lapse in the pop culture cycle, all to ensure there is no gap in the steady stream of glitz and glam. Celebrities are pimped to cater to the ever decreasing standards of pop art, and the entertainment requirements of the easily pleased. Everything they do is sensationalized. And that is a habit that has been foisted on the rest of us. What purpose does social media serve better than the embellishment of mundane aspects of our daily lives? While many of us do indeed believe we live interesting lives, we have great assistance in convincing others of it through various lenses of distortion. “If a camera is not on it, is it worth viewing?” has become the question of our age.
Celebrities have to work very hard to live in obscurity. Anonymity is essentially denied to them. What a drastic difference this is from the average individual, doing everything within his or her might to cast off their anonymity and throw on the rich robes of fame. There is one particularly self-aware celebrity who takes issue with this idea of finding ones worth and guidance in the arms of superstars. The extravagant Russell Brand has an insider’s perspective, and advises anyone seeking true identity and wholeness to steer clear of the trendy ways of the performing icons. “We need amelioration from these consumer tonics,” he says in an interview. “We can never purchase externally any true tonic. It’s, as we say, an inside job. These solutions have to be sorted out within ourselves.” Brand knows quite well, and disdains in kind, the fraudulence that so saturates the entertainment aristocracy. Show me a culture that can’t look away from celebrity tricks and I will show you a culture that can’t face itself.
There is need for a new paradigm. One where our voices are not surrendered to the media elite who have unchallenged platforms with endless reach, but where the common man has a voice right alongside the celebrity in the cultural conversation. Perhaps that is the most recent spin on the American Dream – the ability to gain influence and earn the attention of the multitudes.
Perhaps this will all come across as a jealous jab at those who do what I cannot, those who are talented in ways that I will never be, and those who simpleyembody the formula for modern conceptions of success. But as I grow older, I do not become more envious, but less. As I reflect upon our modern state of affairs, I only feel sad as I look upon those sacrificed as an offering to the celebrity machine, and those that worship upon its altar. It is no crime to be famous, but it is a privilege that requires responsibility. A dismantling of the social hierarchy could allow for a healthy redistribution of influence. We are made to believe the methods of change are only glamorous and held firmly by the rich, but it need not be so.
We often grow tired of exposure to various celebrities, yet it takes much to truly wreck a celebrity’s image and force them out of the public spotlight. This is especially true with parasitic pop culture outlets peddling useless celebrity trivia as if it were some sort of holy writ. The smallest bit of drivel will receive endless study, while the incredible feats of the common man will largely go unnoticed. And it is not simply that such misplaced concern exists that is troublesome, as we humans are at all times prone to wrongfully elevate the useless to the level of the ultimate. But it is the fact that such triteness has been so subsumed into our cultural consciousness that we can hardly look away from the celebrity visage to face ourselves. What are our lives if not imitations of the famed faces of modern appeal, we ask. We are deceived and diminished if we believe this is the fullest measure of our worth and grandest display of identity.
We do not have to submit to the machinations of distant, profit seeking minds that do not share our interests. Nor do we have to follow blindly in the footsteps of celebrities whose actual experiences only represent a slim portion of human expression. May our identities be more than simple conglomerations of absorbed celebrity personalities? We are more.
