Against the backdrop of so many serious events of the day it might be thought that what are being loosely called the “career plans” of two not particularly talented individuals would be bottom of the news fill.
But of course they are not. The saga of Meghan and Harry — she usually gets first billing — is front-page fodder around the Anglo world. Is it too late to ask why? Why are so many seized with a gluttonous appetite for the trivial and banal, for dim-witted reality shows, and for hyper-narcissists who live on Twitter and Instagram and for whom self-exhibition knows no inhibition. The world-striding Kardashians are the apotheosis of this illness, as Paris Hilton was the true begetter of the mania. Hilton of course, in the light-speed time scale of celebrity news, is now the equivalent of a fossil, a calcified relic of a whole decade ago.
It is useless to resist this empty obsession, as useless as the efforts of the famous Dame Partington. Rev. Sydney Smith recorded her vain ambition. Following a great storm where the sea waters threatened her house, Mrs. Partington was seen … “trundling her mop, squeezing out the sea-water, and vigorously pushing away the Atlantic Ocean. The Atlantic was roused; Mrs. Partington’s spirit was up. But I need not tell you that the contest was unequal; the Atlantic Ocean beat Mrs. Partington.”
When Jersey Shore, Love Island, Bachelorette and (shudder) Real Housewives have invaded the consciousness of the world, the tsunami has reached too far inland for us to sustain any hope of a mopping up. Before celebrity culture, we are all as Mrs. Partington.
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See Also:
(1) Megxit really is messing with giddy Canadians’ heads
