I wonder what the average is for most people - for the average person who is not too public and not too available? I wonder how many LOONS, Joe the Plumber has encountered in his 50 years. I wonder how many LOONS my mailman has encountered in his life. I wonder how many LOONS the lady at the grocery store has encountered in her life.
There are moments when I wish I had a simple job, working in the basement of a dark building with no name on the building, and no signs indicating who might be in the building. I'd like a small room in the basement some place, 1-2 people a day, always the same, everyone is dowdy or really tired looking. It would be preferable if I could wear the same clothes every day and no one would notice.
Then again, I do not like dark rooms and have a fear if the building didn't have signs, I would get lost. I cannot wear the same clothes in a two week period let alone every day. I can dream though.
There are moments that I wished I was as dumb as a bloody doorknob with as much personality as cardboard ( a la Al Gore). There are moments I wish I looked like Quasimodo.
Then I stop and realize things could be worse. I am relatively pleased with the way it is and while some things could be better, generally - ok.
That does not however help when it comes to LOONS.
Loon:
nut, crazy, schizo, delusional, off the reservation, lights are on and no one is home, eviction sign is hanging on the door, they see Harvey, they converse with the Queen and have tea with the Rabbit, hard to get the whole image with such a small screen ...
You get the idea.
In 1997, I came to appreciate the privacy celebrities lost when they became 'famous'. Until 1997, I was one of the millions who bought the crap at the check-out stand, and I rationalized it the way some 'poo-poo heads' rationalize it today: this is their job, no one forced them, they make a great deal of money, and they want the celebritydom/fame and when it fades, they chase after it.
SO fucking what. A prostitute will have sex with you for some amount of cash. The prostitute solicits sex. It does not give you, the fucking low-life, the right to abuse the person, publicize anything about them, or demean them simply because you get a thrill out of feeling bigger than anyone else.
It isn't the best comparison.
Actors have a job. While they are in that job, doing the deed - chase them on set, try to photograph them, ask for autographs. When they go home, to the privacy of their personal space - leave them the fuck alone. If they go out to dinner - they are going out as a person, NOT as the actor in the film. Leave them the fuck alone.
Most actors are as bright as I sometimes wish I could be - doorknob bright, but they did not sign up to be chased and hounded, or stalked. I have so much more pity for actors / celebrities than I did in 1996. I feel as bad for them as I do for the homeless - both are prisoners of their worlds. The actors create a world to escape from the constant drone of fans and stalkers. The homeless - to escape the reality of misery. In a small way, the homeless person is freer.
The constant barrage of paparazzi contribute to the stalkers. While the stalker would exist regardless of whether or not an actor was alive - the constant publicity contributes to or assists the stalker in losing control of their life and their grasp on reality. When that break occurs, the LOON focus' on the famous or rich (or both), to give them (the LOON) a sense of purpose or worth they were lacking (or believed they were lacking). Associating with the rich and famous give us, the little people, such a feeling of importance. I'd rather be little and invisible.
The public does not have the right to know where an actor lives, any more than I have a right to know where Joe the Plumber lives, unless Joe the Plumber tells me personally. I have no interest in Joe and he has no interest in me. If however I start to imagine conversations with Joe - he tells me secrets about McCain and reveals juicy nuggets about plumbing secrets, and I take these non-existent delusional conversations and forge a relationship around them - I AM A FUCKING LOON.
Now add the paparazzi and celebritydom and you have a serious risk.
Listen, if you think you are having conversations with the Queen - you aren't.
If you think you are having conversations with Tom Cruise - you aren't.
If you think you are having conversations with Joe the Plumber - you aren't.
If you think you are having conversations with an alien - you aren't.
If you think you are having conversations with me - you aren't.
PLEASE, for the love of God, see a doctor before your break with reality is complete and you go over to the Dark Side. We have enough issues to live with today that we don't need to die because some schizophrenic person lost their grip on reality, and decided if they couldn't have you no one will.
Get help. You may still be salvageable, or parts of you. Maybe you could still be useful as an organ donor.
In any case. LOONS. I seem to have more than my fair share. I am willing to share them with the guy who works in the basement of the unmarked building.
loons
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