The antics of celebrities are hard to avoid. But we can and must, which is why I want to celebrate some 'unimportant people'
Lindsay Lohan ruined my breakfast! And Charlie Sheen put me off my lunch.
As a personal rule of aesthetics, I never read the "people" section of the local daily paper over coffee, and never ever glance at the American supermarket tabloids while buying food. And yet I did both of these this past week. I sinned. I compulsively read, or at least unconsciously scanned, the muck and drivel, and now notice that in the same sentence I am already trying to excuse this failing with qualifiers. No, I sinned. Like much of the population of the civilised world, millions of people, I was momentarily pulled into viewing the antics of some of the least civilised, least valuable, creatures to ever exist on the face of this earth. A vindication does not exist in the acknowledgement of these numbers.
But, upon reflection after the fact, I could not remember why either of these individuals were ever considered worthwhile, why I should even care. Upon returning home, I Googled them both.
Miss Lohan first. From what I read, she is famous for her arrest record, and for her cleavage. Nine images came up in the usual photo bar at the top of a celebrity first-page: in three she appears in underwear, in four showing d�colletage, in one drinking/drunk, and finally in a larger standard studio "head shot". As some claim, she may never have developed morals, but upper respiratory development is substantially evident in all her pix. This may constitute a life theme.
The trashtalk celeb site TMZ (owned by super-straight megacorp Time Warner, who make no excuses when the cash register dings) tells me she got her start as a child commercial model, acted in soap operas at 10, got a Disney film and more starting at 12, a singing career at 18, and then began to self-destruct at 21. She now spends substantially more time in confinement than she does working onstage. In a recent interview, her estranged and also out-of-control father and his bodyguards spoke knowingly about "monetising" Lindsay's many brushes with the law. "We are talking exclusive stories here, man."
Just now while I am watching the search screen, a Los Angeles Times article pops up, reporting that Lohan's electronic ankle bracelet just went off and police went into her house to investigate. The report stated she was found "posing for tabloid photographs on her rooftop patio".
And to think that there have been reports that irony no longer exists in the 21st century.
Charlie Sheen, aka Carlos Irwin Est�vez, was born into a family already famous for explosive career excesses, most notably father Martin's documented "performance" in "Apocalypse Now". Son Charlie has had a hit show on broadcast television the last few years, simultaneously pairing commercially valuable ratings among 18-35-year-old males with offstage arrest reports and bad behaviour. The worst of the gossipmongers, Perez Hilton, loves him as a source of bad news and, of course, advertising revenue.�
Then, Forbes Magazine on 18 May reported that Charlie himself made more money in this, the "Violent Torpedo of Truth" year of his career, than ever before, just by being a bad boy and incoherent. That article followed by two months a 1 March Forbes report that was headlined "Why I Won't Write About Charlie Sheen Again (Until I Do)".
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While I am reading this next screen, an article comes up saying Sheen and his wife have just an hour ago agreed on joint custody of their children. This on something called "PopEater". Are we seeing illustrations of a trend here, just in the time it is taking to write this article?
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Ironically, using those celebrity names in this article will quintuple the number of hits my own name as writer, and this story, will get in a search engine. The fame engines seek out the names of the rich and despicable as eagerly as do the searchers.�
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With that in mind, may I also say: "Britney Spears!" "Mel Gibson!" "Amy Winehouse?"
I just can't stand this anymore, I won't sit here passively doing nothing about this deluge of nothing.�
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And so I won't. Sit. I have done, am doing, something. I am writing a treatise about "Unimportant People".
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Over these last six years, I have drawn biographical portraits of a large number of subjects from the fringes of society for many different news and commentary outlets. I enjoy and value such people as original and brave. Based on the responses I have personally received, the number of websites and actual papers that picked up the stories, and from the many posted comments, these have actually been among the most popular stories I have ever written.
I neither want nor need to read or relate news of celebrities. My ongoing motivation is to depict people of no supposed "worth" ? societal misfits, outcasts, outlaws, the homeless, and all combinations in between ? people finding ways to enfranchise themselves within a system that is determined to exclude and devalue them. Besides, I think these folk intrinsically much more interesting, and much deeper of soul, than the Lindsay�Lohans�and Charlie Sheens of the world.��
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I think most readers will probably feel the same way. I hope so.
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So I have started with a six-part series, being serialised on OpenDemocracy.net: Unimportant People. I have changed names and details to keep the subjects safe, fictionalised the stories a bit to keep the community unharmed, but the two main events in these first six ? a homeless man registering his dog to vote, and a legal trial involving matters of gender ? were born of reality, along with the characters.
The narratives are also all based in the somewhat-twisted reality of my home town, New Orleans. And there lies a secondary, but hugely important, motive for me here: a positive and entertaining story from a place that has seemed to be the negative crux of the universe these last six years. We have also been deemed "unimportant" since last year's spill. Without ongoing sensationalism, we are not worthwhile to the media, other than as a vehicle for high TV ratings on yet another disaster special.�
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I've seen enough oiled birds. I want people to think about this burg and smile again.
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That's the whole deal. I am putting stories out there about complete non-celebrities, people who are both worthwhile for reading and uplifting for contemplating. I want to offer opportunities to meet and accept "unimportant" others, and see that, in the end, they really are a valuable part of society.
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And entertaining, too. I am having a damn fine time being a storyteller.
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There are, indeed, lots more where this came from ? almost 500 additional pages embrace these opening excerpts ? but hopefully, this small packet will get at least a few people reevaluating who and what is really significant. Do have a read.
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Along the way, in writing this article, my computer's word-processor recognised Sheen as a "a bright, softly shining surface or appearance". OK, I get that. But it indicated with a red line that it does not know what a Lohan is. No matter. I refuse to allow the spellchecker to add that word to my computer's dictionary, and have clicked on the "ignore" tab.
You gotta draw the line somewhere.
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