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March 2015

What price fame?

Back in the age of wooden ships and iron men – and gruff-sounding women in sensible shoes - fame meant something. And you really had to do something huge to become famous – like bash two rocks together and invent the braai, be the ruler of an empire (Roman, not Microsoft), sail around the world and discover whole continents, walk on the moon – that sort of thing. Like I said, you had to do something pretty awesome. But, as time went by and all sorts of amazing things happened, got discovered, etc., we sorta started to lose the plot a bit. We kind of forgot what “wow” was. It became commonplace and we became blasé about what was “cool” and what was not - what was WOW and what was “yeah right, whatever”. And fame went from being a rare commodity to as common as dirt – and just as interesting – judging by the motley crew of “famous” people these days.

I mean, some folks are now famous for being famous. Imagine that! It’s not like they’ve done something or anything like that (amazing or otherwise), they’re just famous because legions of dimbulbs “just adore their fabulousness” and how “fierce” they are, etc. *barf* I thought only tigers were fierce after being poked with sticks, but hey, what do I know? After all, if Kim Kardashian can hog the world’s limelight just due to the size of her ass, we’re all going to hell in a handbasket quicker than this plastic bimbo ditched the freakishly sized, basketball-playing Chris something-or-other (aka Lurch). What was it? Something like 72 days or something equally pathetic? Anyhoo, we’re getting’ there awfully fast if this is what we now call “fame”.

But the point of this particular meandering little diatribe is not so much because so-called famous folks earn their undeserved fame (and fortune) by doing whatever moronic drivel that enters the vacuum normally found between their left and right ears. No, it’s more about folks that really should be famous. These should-really-be-famous-but-they-ain’t folks who not only never seem to become famous, half the time, nobody’s ever even heard of them. The truth is that herds of really clever people who have achieved really amazing stuff don’t get one iota of the recognition they really should get because they and their achievements get drowned out by the likes of Lady Gaga pitching up at some daft gig wearing a “dress” made entirely from meat. (I bet every security German Shepherd had to be physically restrained from ravaging the bint at that do) Or some chubby, mid-western brain donor gushing about her 67 892 Cabbage Patch dolls that she’s been collecting “Mah whole laaife - dontcha know?”

What about the inventors? The folks responsible for creating things like cochlear implants – enabling deaf people to hear for the first time in their lives. Blokes designing artificial heart valves that are responsible for saving millions of lives. You know, that sort of useful gubbins. Stuff that matters. Things of real value to the human race. Not just some here-today-gone-tomorrow sputnik whose last two remaining brain cells (one for heartbeat, the other for respiration) are the only thing keeping them upright – apart from their entirely transient ability to “entertain” their legions of dull-eyed disciples. At the core of this modern disease is that humanity, by and large, has lost the plot. That which is important is discarded - kinda like tossing the baby out with the bathwater -  whilst that which has no value whatsoever is elevated to eye-boggling, parting of the Red Sea status by millions too dumb to know where the Red Sea actually is.

Je suis Charlie

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