Almost two weeks ago I blogged about how ridiculous our obsession with celebrity is. There were two headlines that day – one about a Russian train disaster and terrorist attack, another about a man who bumped his car.
The first story has been lost, who knows anything about any of the victims yet or what the fallout of the incident is?
The second story has become a worldwide media flesh feast. I noticed there is a Facebook group titled, ‘I’ve slept with Tiger Woods’. So what!? He is one man who appears to have little control of his willy and from what has been said the world of golf already knew this. He is a hero who has fallen but in reality he was fallen before he was even famous. Why are we that surprised and that obsessed?
If he is guilty of all this unfaithfulness, in a way, I am pleased he is getting all this bad press – but only in as much as the media often glorifies promiscuity no matter who gets hurt or screwed over. But when it comes down to it I don’t think anybody should have their life torn apart so publicly and so viciously.
To negotiate a lifestyle of fame is to walk barefoot in a nest of vipers.