Wednesday, October 7, 2015

So You Want to Be a Hollywood Star, Huh?

I will never understand why anyone wants to be a Hollywood star when Hollywood stars seem like the most messed-up, lonely people on the planet.

There’s a new “exclusive” by the UK’s Daily Mail, an interview of Chelsea O’Donnell, Rosie O’Donnell’s 18-year-old daughter. In it, she apparently accuses her mother of being an absolute phony who conducts herself much differently in public than at home, who smokes weed like a college student, kicked her daughter out of the house not a year ago, and was an all-around absent mother.

I’m not reading the whole article. You can if you want to. But for me, it’s not news to hear that Rosie O’Donnell is desperately unhappy. It’s not news to hear that any of the Hollywood crowd is desperately unhappy, including Jim Carrey’s ex-girlfriend, who recently committed suicide.

Speaking of her, let me go off on a little rant hear…

That woman has more value than her severed dating connection with Jim Carrey. I can’t stand seeing her referred to as “Jim Carrey’s ex” over and over again as if that claim to fame is what makes her matter. How about the fact that she was somebody’s wife? How about the fact that she was somebody’s family? How about the fact that she was human?

The media is disgusting. Okay. Moving on.

Or should I? Because the media is part and parcel with Hollywood these days. They’re incestual, hob-knobbing and sharing each other’s spotlights, the press stumbling over themselves for 60-second appearances in movies and starlets racking up as many news and talk show spots as possible.

They’re all utterly desperate to be relevant, and in order to be that, they try to ignore reality, either by smiling at the cameras when they really want to cry from overwhelming loneliness, or going home to do drugs.

You think these people don’t stare in the mirror when they wake up, looking at their unpainted selves and wondering how their lives became so messed up? How they remain so unfulfilled despite their million-dollar homes and exotic vacations and pricy wardrobes and “cool” friends?

If you think I’m wrong, go ahead and try to become the next big Hollywood star. But for me, I’d much rather have anonymity and even my day-to-day financial annoyances.

Because, hey, at least I know I have value apart from how many people know my name.

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