But you don't see me

While anybody who even glances at this blog must be sick of my Charles Bronson fangirldom, I can only advise you to suck it up or look away, because it’s the indirect subject of today’s post. You see, this is the first time in ages I’ve been a fangirl, and certainly it’s my first posthumous fangirldom since Alexander the Great got ruined for me by that piece of Oliver Stone shit, but most of all, it’s my first fangirldom since I had reliable access to da Internet, unless you count Stéphane Rousseau, which I don’t because he’s Francophone, which will be the subject of another post.

And what’s striking me as I spend my whole minutes of downtime at work geeking on Charles Bronson websites, topless photos, and Wikitrivia is that there are lots of celebrities who are still alive who probably have even more websites, topless photos, and Wikitrivia being geeked on, and who know it. Let's leave the geeking alone for awhile - being fangirls and fanboys is such a part of human nature I'm not even going to try to attack or defend it - and wonder how famous people deal these days.

At least there was an illusion of privacy back in the day, if you weren't a slavey to a studio who had to date other studio slaveys to stay in the gossip columns and out of gay talk, and who knows if that still happens today anyways. But now anybody who wants to can see Jude Law's smallish nob on holiday for free thanks to da Internet. Back in the day, to see Rudolph Valentino's smallish nob you had to pay backstreet money to shady characters for crummy pictures of his dead body naked in a morgue, if James Elroy is to be believed. Which he is, as with the CIA's publication of "The Family Jewels," we know now that at least half of American Tabloid is true.

I guess what I mean is the Anglo celebrity system has always been voyeuristic and kind of gross, but now the voyeurism and grossness is idiot proof, and something we can do during downtime at work, and open to everyone, all the time. So why do people want to be famous anymore? I mean - it's so obvious you're going to be exposed like that as an intrinsic part of the lifestyle, and I can't imagine even the most pathological attention seeker thinking that would be okay for themselves, that all the adoration would make up for the complete hijacking, it seems, of one's persona. So why?

Speaking of adoration and Charles Bronson wikitrivia, he decided to become an actor for the money. And he used to room with Jack Klugman, who said that he was really good at ironing. Isn't that adorable? Adorable.