What's love got to do with it?
Ahh, Paris. I'm fascinated by Paris Hilton. If she's on TV I cannot turn away. Is it because she's hot? Sure. That has something to do with it. But it's not the whole thing. Paris is the complete package. Paris Hilton is America.
Most of our celebrities grow up seeking fame and fortune. Paris was born into it. Think about what that must be like. Most celebrities have long ago mastered the game of making some grunt pick out all the green M&M's. Paris probably doesn't know what an M&M is and if she does she assumes they come pre-made to match her outfit. She has never had to struggle. Never had to know a single thing. Most things, as far as Paris is concerned, are "hot." I'm not sure if what remains is "cold" or if she has ever suffered enough to experience cold. She's rich, young, and, yes, even hot. But the best part about her is she's laughing at you.
Recently on her TV show, "The Simple Life", where she pretends to intern for different companies each week, Paris was asked to play a weather girl. All she had to do was stand in front of the blue screen and read off the teleprompter. This proved to be too arduous a task so she just pointed and said, with an honesty only she could muster, "That's the earth. It's hot." Lest ye think this was a clever statement about global warming I should point out that there was a fairly significant pause before Paris could pluck the word "earth" from the cobwebs of her untroubled mind. Immediately after declaring the world "hot" she and her cohort burst into guffaws as if someone had just told a very funny joke that only they could understand. And only they can understand it. The joke was you and I.
I honestly believe most people watch the show because a. there are two hot girls, b. there are two hot girls, and c. they think it is funny to laugh at the stupid antics of the two hot girls. But they shouldn't laugh because Paris isn't stupid by nature. She's stupid by nurture and there is an enormous difference. Paris may be genetically a genius - it really wouldn't matter. Her world would remain exactly the same. She has achieved the American dream and moved beyond the world of the mind entirely. She may be the first observable specimen who has done so completely. When she declared the world "hot" and burst into laughter it wasn't the uncomfortable laughter of someone who doesn't know what they are doing. It was the confident laugh of someone who just doesn't give a shit. Why would someone watch the news? Who cares about the weather? Anywhere Paris is the sun is always shining. She has people for that. The point of her little show is that she is going to royally fuck up everything she comes into contact with and then laugh it all away because she doesn't care - and she doesn't have to. Doesn't that make her the perfect woman?
Isn't that what every man is looking for? Someone as hot as they are wealthy and completely unconcerned about matters of the mind? We lament our passing years, thinning hair, and growing waistline because our best days for scoring with the ladies are behind us. We live in terror of becoming Beer Guy - the drunken slob with a can of Schlitz in each hand who is far too old to be in the club you're at and despite having hit the scene for the last twenty years has never learned to dance. Who is he trying to fool? Paris Hilton - that's who. He still believes he's going home with some hottie because he has to believe it. There is nothing else for Beer Guy to do. At what point do we look around and realize we have become him? At what point do we look around and realize that we've spent the best years of our lives living out the cliche of the sex-starved male? "The average man thinks about sex every seven seconds." "I keep getting older but they stay the same age." "A man isn't a man until he's taken a woman by force." "A real man doesn't take no for an answer" All the sayings are supposed to be true. All of it is what a man is supposed to be. This is how we find ourselves. This is how we establish our worth. And for you, gentleman, I give you Paris Hilton. The ideal has been reached. The pinnacle of womanhood - Paris be thy name!
Would you marry Paris Hilton? I wouldn't. Her empty disdain for everything makes me want to vomit. She needs nothing, knows nothing, feels nothing. Why the fuck would I want to be in the same room with Paris Hilton? Sex? Once you've hit it then what? What could she possibly have to offer? If the smug answer "More sex" just flashed through your mind then fuck you. What a waste of your energies and your life. Everybody wants to fuck Paris Hilton. Everyone. There's nothing wrong with that. What's wrong is that those same people want to marry Paris Hilton. You think not? Then tell me, where was the last place you went to meet a woman? A club? A dive bar? Who are you going to meet there? The hottie in the mini-skirt? The temptress with the sway in her dance that just drives you wild? Well who the fuck are they? The same guy who'll scoff at the idea of wanting to have anything to do with a vacuous mess like Paris Hilton will waste an entire paycheck trying to woo some tramp from the club who isn't half as hot, one one-thousandth as rich, and with infinitely more problems.
Shouldn't we outgrow that? Shouldn't we stop watching? Because, just like Paris, they're laughing at you. It isn't conscious. They too are just going through the motions of a game that created them. They always win. So if you're playing with them it makes you a loser.
The overall social implications of Paris are far more fascinating but harder to explain. She's like a non-fictional female version of Patrick Bateman in "American Psycho." She is the embodiment of every American ideal. She has accepted everything unquestioningly because why wouldn't she? It is only when we encounter problems that we begin to ask questions and what problems has she ever really faced? There are no doors that money, beauty, and fame can't open. She is our archetype.
But I've rambled far too long. My thoughts are unformed and confused. There is a puzzle in Paris that needs to be explained. She is the Freudian blank wall off of which we reflect or true selves as a society. For me she's like watching a car wreck. I know I shouldn't look, but I just can't turn away.
More on this later...
Most of our celebrities grow up seeking fame and fortune. Paris was born into it. Think about what that must be like. Most celebrities have long ago mastered the game of making some grunt pick out all the green M&M's. Paris probably doesn't know what an M&M is and if she does she assumes they come pre-made to match her outfit. She has never had to struggle. Never had to know a single thing. Most things, as far as Paris is concerned, are "hot." I'm not sure if what remains is "cold" or if she has ever suffered enough to experience cold. She's rich, young, and, yes, even hot. But the best part about her is she's laughing at you.
Recently on her TV show, "The Simple Life", where she pretends to intern for different companies each week, Paris was asked to play a weather girl. All she had to do was stand in front of the blue screen and read off the teleprompter. This proved to be too arduous a task so she just pointed and said, with an honesty only she could muster, "That's the earth. It's hot." Lest ye think this was a clever statement about global warming I should point out that there was a fairly significant pause before Paris could pluck the word "earth" from the cobwebs of her untroubled mind. Immediately after declaring the world "hot" she and her cohort burst into guffaws as if someone had just told a very funny joke that only they could understand. And only they can understand it. The joke was you and I.
I honestly believe most people watch the show because a. there are two hot girls, b. there are two hot girls, and c. they think it is funny to laugh at the stupid antics of the two hot girls. But they shouldn't laugh because Paris isn't stupid by nature. She's stupid by nurture and there is an enormous difference. Paris may be genetically a genius - it really wouldn't matter. Her world would remain exactly the same. She has achieved the American dream and moved beyond the world of the mind entirely. She may be the first observable specimen who has done so completely. When she declared the world "hot" and burst into laughter it wasn't the uncomfortable laughter of someone who doesn't know what they are doing. It was the confident laugh of someone who just doesn't give a shit. Why would someone watch the news? Who cares about the weather? Anywhere Paris is the sun is always shining. She has people for that. The point of her little show is that she is going to royally fuck up everything she comes into contact with and then laugh it all away because she doesn't care - and she doesn't have to. Doesn't that make her the perfect woman?
Isn't that what every man is looking for? Someone as hot as they are wealthy and completely unconcerned about matters of the mind? We lament our passing years, thinning hair, and growing waistline because our best days for scoring with the ladies are behind us. We live in terror of becoming Beer Guy - the drunken slob with a can of Schlitz in each hand who is far too old to be in the club you're at and despite having hit the scene for the last twenty years has never learned to dance. Who is he trying to fool? Paris Hilton - that's who. He still believes he's going home with some hottie because he has to believe it. There is nothing else for Beer Guy to do. At what point do we look around and realize we have become him? At what point do we look around and realize that we've spent the best years of our lives living out the cliche of the sex-starved male? "The average man thinks about sex every seven seconds." "I keep getting older but they stay the same age." "A man isn't a man until he's taken a woman by force." "A real man doesn't take no for an answer" All the sayings are supposed to be true. All of it is what a man is supposed to be. This is how we find ourselves. This is how we establish our worth. And for you, gentleman, I give you Paris Hilton. The ideal has been reached. The pinnacle of womanhood - Paris be thy name!
Would you marry Paris Hilton? I wouldn't. Her empty disdain for everything makes me want to vomit. She needs nothing, knows nothing, feels nothing. Why the fuck would I want to be in the same room with Paris Hilton? Sex? Once you've hit it then what? What could she possibly have to offer? If the smug answer "More sex" just flashed through your mind then fuck you. What a waste of your energies and your life. Everybody wants to fuck Paris Hilton. Everyone. There's nothing wrong with that. What's wrong is that those same people want to marry Paris Hilton. You think not? Then tell me, where was the last place you went to meet a woman? A club? A dive bar? Who are you going to meet there? The hottie in the mini-skirt? The temptress with the sway in her dance that just drives you wild? Well who the fuck are they? The same guy who'll scoff at the idea of wanting to have anything to do with a vacuous mess like Paris Hilton will waste an entire paycheck trying to woo some tramp from the club who isn't half as hot, one one-thousandth as rich, and with infinitely more problems.
Shouldn't we outgrow that? Shouldn't we stop watching? Because, just like Paris, they're laughing at you. It isn't conscious. They too are just going through the motions of a game that created them. They always win. So if you're playing with them it makes you a loser.
The overall social implications of Paris are far more fascinating but harder to explain. She's like a non-fictional female version of Patrick Bateman in "American Psycho." She is the embodiment of every American ideal. She has accepted everything unquestioningly because why wouldn't she? It is only when we encounter problems that we begin to ask questions and what problems has she ever really faced? There are no doors that money, beauty, and fame can't open. She is our archetype.
But I've rambled far too long. My thoughts are unformed and confused. There is a puzzle in Paris that needs to be explained. She is the Freudian blank wall off of which we reflect or true selves as a society. For me she's like watching a car wreck. I know I shouldn't look, but I just can't turn away.
More on this later...