With the "King of Pop" dead people are talking quite a good deal about what drove him to the grave. I wasn't going to write this post, because I felt like there was already enough stuff out there. But something struck me this week and I seemed to have found the proper context in which to frame my musings.
Post-Modern America & The Cult of Personality
Billy Mays was the quintessential celebrity. Unlike other celebrities who earn their stripes by acting or playing in a band or (unfortunately) writing a novel or being a public figure; Mr. Mays claim to fame was that he was famous. He was what is known as a pitchman. He sold products, that was pretty much it. He earned notoriety for doing so and became a household name. Somewhat laughable sure, but he had his fame. With that fame and fortune he was able to build an house and start a business. The question is, what did he really create in the world that would warrant fame?
Paul Hewson, better known as Bono, the frontman for U2, disdains his fame but understands its uses. In one interview he said, "I'm just trying to put this thing called fame to good use." However, when one watches most famous people it is easy to see how they have to be drug from the limelight kicking and screaming. When one looks at what is behind there fame, one is faced with a truly frightening reality. Like the great and powerful wizard, there may be nothing behind the curtain. John and Cate are going through a messy break-up. Paris Hilton was foisted on us as something we should admire.1 American Idol and the myriad talent shows are great, but one feels as if those singers are even one step removed from the bands who play small shows until finally breaking into the big time.
Why do we do it? What purpose does it all serve? America, land of opportunity and meritocracy. A country the Hamilton envisioned as place where all people could get ahead by shear hard work and perseverance, a place that Washington and his army fought for the right of a government by the people conspicuously devoid of king and gentry; finds that it cannot get rid of that desire for nobility.
I can't help but think of George Orwell's "1984." The thing he left out was celebrity. With enough celebrities one can take over the world. In a recent ad campaign by T-Mobile, the company pokes fun at this. They claim to have numerous economists go door-to-door to explain why T-Mobile is the right choice in cell-phone coverage, only to have each and every economist forced away. At the end Catherine Zeta Jones, the original spokesperson for T-Mobile, goes to a door, and hey presto, she's accepted.2
How bad is it that we can be shown exactly what is going on, and still not care one bit? Quick question, who is the president of France? The chancellor of Germany? The prime minster of Japan? Who leads China? Where is Iraq for heaven's sake? These are questions that no one cares about, but if Michael Jackson dies we drop everything.
Oh How the Mighty Have Fallen
There is a certain glee we take from watching heroes fall. Arthur Schopenhauer, the German philosopher, called it: Schadenfreude. For those of you who frequent my page, you know all about it; but for those of you who don't, it is the concept that we take joy from other people's misery. I suspect some of us feel that way about Michael Jackson. His over the top behavior seemed lead us to believe that he was going to fall and fall hard. Jackson was obsessed with "the show," it ruled his life. He had bought into the myth he had created and in that darkness he found his oblivion. It was the perfect death for a twisted public's spectacle.
While reading, I happened upon another interesting article about a non-celebrity. Whereas Michael Jackson moonwalked, Neil Armstrong walked on the moon. Armstrong however, does not give interviews and practically disappeared from center-stage. He had done what he thought was his job, and it certainly would've been easy and tempting to capitalize on all that fame; but he has rejected it. He took a job working at the University of Cincinnati where students used to form human pyramids just to get a look through the window at his office.
Today, People don't climb up to see his windows and the limelight has fallen away from Armstrong as a public figure and installed him as an historical figure. He seems to live a life of quiet dignity away from the cult of personality which has already claimed so many. Perhaps, like the astronaut with ice-water in his veins who landed safely in the Sea of Tranquility, we would be best to ignore the siren's call from the rocks of fame. Perhaps it would be better to go about our business and not look for our fifteen minutes of fame or glory in the fall of others.
