Sunday, February 17, 2013

Where Are My Stalkers?


By JccKeith

First I’d like to say that stalking is not funny and to anyone who has been stalked, I’m sorry if this post offends you.  Alright, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way – on to the post:

It’s Saturday, so I get to rant or at least have an opinion about something.  So let me regale you with a little story about my recent demotivational discovery.  For those who read my posts, you know my fascination and adoration of the science fiction industry – mostly sci-fi television shows.  I watch them when I write.  They create background noise that occupies the annoying part of my mind that seems to prohibit any decent ideas from coming forth.

Every once in a while, I’ll watch a show that sparks some interest for some bizarre reason.  The interest is usually in a person.  Sometimes it is a director, sometimes it is an actor or actress, sometimes it is a special effects person.  I use my skills to type their name into the search bar and then look up their info on Wikipedia or their bio page.
I expect in my search, to find their age, their educational history, their achievements, their activities in film, writing, directing, acting, etc, and their ‘story.’  By their story, I mean the little personal bit about what made them eventually do what they do.  For some it was a lifelong interest in acting, for others it was an interest in creating things and for a few there is some really cool path they followed which eventually led them to their current occupation.

Something about reading other people’s stories is comforting at times. Being in my thirties, I like to read bios about other people who maybe didn’t really get started until they were slightly older.  And let’s face it, I also like to read stories about how miserable their life is and all the troubles they’ve faced because well I find such things interesting.  I also like to read stories of extravagant lifestyles and living in excess.

Anyway, there I was reading the bit on my latest interest and I discovered some info missing.  All the details of this person’s journey to stardom were there.  The part that was left out was information about their kids.  I don’t particularly care about their kids but the fact that it was denied to me was annoying.  I looked on some other pages and found this person does not release the names or ages of the kids.  Their spouse does the same.

I was miffed.  How dare this celebrity deny the public pictures, names and ages of their kids?  How dare they desire to keep anything secret?  Does not the seeking of fame, wealth and celebrity status disqualify a person from any hiding of personal information?  Was that not the general accepted terms of celebrity?

Then I thought where the hell are all of my stalkers?  Why am I not having to avoid the paparazzi every time I leave my house?  Why are magazines not calling me asking for quotes or pictures of my family?  Where is my Wikipedia page?  Why didn’t People magazine offer me millions of dollars for the first pics of my newborn babies all those years ago?  I’m on the internet people, come on, it doesn’t get any more famous than that!

As I contemplated my lack of celebrity status I considered what I might do if I were famous and how that might occur.  I suppose I could participate in some degrading and tragic ‘reality’ show to gain some fame.  Perhaps I could write the next epic best seller.  Maybe I could pursue acting.  I could run about town making a total ass of myself to get attention and then complain about how negative everyone is towards me - if I were famous. 

After spending a few minutes thinking about it, I remembered a few things.  First, I hate having my picture taken.  I am not the most socially gifted person.  And of course there is that whole idea of giving up any sense of privacy in exchange for the obsession and adoration of millions of people I don’t know. 

Back to my search on this celebrity I had been interested in – I decided, you know what, screw this person.  If they aren’t willing to completely sell out and reveal all details of their life to the entire waiting world then clearly they lack devotion to fame. They are not worthy of my cyber-stalki… I mean interest, yeah, ‘interest.’

 Hey, if I were famous, I would totally write a tell-all book.  I would reveal all sorts of details about my life.  They might not be true and they might vary based on where, when and to whom I revealed them but at least they’d be details.  

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