Musing on Celebrity

A childhood friend was a famous TV actor. His fame wasn’t based on talent (even he would admit that) it was founded on celebrity. He had been plucked out of a mass of kids and landed a job on an iconic TV show. Famous for being famous. I saw him at his worst moments. I read his fan mail. Sad, pathetic girls offering themselves up like virgins headed to the volcano. Actors are often treated as demigods and credited with more talent and intelligence than they really possess. Sean Penn is an enduring example of a guy who reads too much of his fan mail. Granted, he’s a talented actor, but he’s chummed with communists leaders without regret. He wrote one the worst novels of all time, and that 80’s porn star mustache. Woof.

He tweeted “something about something”. It’s hard to get so much wrong in two sentences but Sean Penn managed.

“Germans?” “Never mind, he’s on a roll”.

If we ever get back to normal and I see Penn at Ollo’s in Malibu and Penn is again, peacocking, I’ll think of the “Great Satin” and evangelical catholics, and drugs, mostly drugs. Yeah, don’t do drugs and tweet kids.

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