My grandmother always said that if you didn't have something nice to say about someone then blog about them.
We writers strive to create works of artistic, entertainment and yes, monetary value. So it's disconcerting to see so many in pop culture and even society skipping the creative part and instead striving to be famous just by existing in your consciousness. In the past, "celebrities" like Zsa Zsa Gabor fashioned awareness for work of perhaps dubious value (Hungarian beauty queen turned socialite) then continued to trade on their celebrity (TV series, game and talk show guest star) long after that value had faded. Nowadays, it is enough to be someone's wife wearing a $5000 dress calling someone else's wife a bitch just before pulling each other's hair in a limo, the action caught on camera. I don't know exactly what it all means or why so many people find the above scenario riveting, but to quote the villain in The Incredibles paraphrasing Nietzsche, "When everyone is special, then no one is special." My own wife, Sonia, can mainline three or four of these "catty women sipping wine in restaurant" shows in a row. For her, there is a "realness" to the proceedings -- a chance for her to share in the titillating, unscripted gossip and drama. (Sonia hushes me when I point out that the shows follow set patterns and are, in fact, heavily scripted). For her, there is something fascinating about a middle-aged woman who cannot sing to save her life deluding herself into creating a demo and spending tens of thousands of dollars on a public showcase to prove otherwise.
From time-to-time, I've posted videos relating to my work on YouTube, always grateful when a few thousand or so intrepid souls take time to check them out. Of course, I am befuddled to realize that 300 million people have watched a cat pretend to play an organ back in 1993. Okay, maybe that's kind of funny once, but then there are also millions of hits logged for the canon of dozens of knock-off videos of other cats also pretending to play keyboards (at least make it a banjo!), hamster soloing Freebird on kazoos, etc.
In the age of Twitter, YouTube and Facebook, all of our lives have become commodities. Perhaps it's startling and depressing that, as commodities, writers like me who try to create value just don't compete very well with the Snookies and Justin Biebers of the world.