I spent most of today at home dealing with my annual late spring head cold. Between sneezing fits and multiple tissue runs I did a little catching up on some writing and kept pace with the days internet traffic. Dominating the news, of course, was the flash that Paris Hilton had once again been forced to go back to jail after a brief reprieve of house arrest. It's the lead story everywhere. I even checked some newspaper sites overseas (London) and there it was.
I have a really hard time trying to figure out why this is news, but I don't get the whole Paris Hilton thing anyway. I think she's iconic, though--the poster child for a culture that I think Jerry Seinfeld summed up quite nicely--"It's about nothing."
Paris is famous for being famous and gets way more face time with us than she (or we) deserve. It's easy to bash her, I suppose, as many are doing. But I find her a tragic figure and emblematic of the whole bent of our culture toward style over substance. It's amazing that a society dealing with global warming, insane energy policies, a bogged down war, and a host of other issues is focused on an heiress who doesn't seem to understand how the justice system works. Sad thing is, most of the people who are following her escapades don't understand it either.
Neil Postman was right. His book "Amusing Ourselves to Death," written in the 80s, was pretty prophetic. We're bombarded with information we can't possibly process or do anything about, so we tend to focus on that which provides us some form of escape. Paris's misadventures seem to make others feel like they're not so bad themselves.
I'll not lose any sleep over Paris's incarceration, but it does disturb me that the average American knows more about her than they do about, say, the presidential candidates.
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