With an inquisitive mind blessed with the ability of contemplation, I often find myself delving rather deeply into thought about subjects that are best left in the closet. Tonight I was thinking about celebrity. More importantly, minor celebrity. For example, I know Nicole Ritchie mainly because she is Lionel Ritchie's daughter. Lionel Ritchie is the guy who sang "Say You, Say Me." I know not to what extent she exists in the public eye due to her own merits. Nicole Ritchie, in terms of my cultural context, is pretty damn marginal. But I still know her name. If a lot of people know your name, you have to possess some sort of cultural value, don't you?
Nicole Ritchie is not as deep as my thoughts on marginal celebrity went. At some point in my media-saturated existence I had heard that Nicole Ritchie married some jackass DJ out in Los Angeles. I don't know his name. I know him simply as the guy who is or was married to the daughter of Lionel Ritchie, the guy who sang "All Night Long." You see how lonely and cold it can get at the fringes of celebrity? Like a lone cowboy wandering into the graveyard of an abandoned churchyard and staring at the weather-worn headstones bearing no longer even a memory of a name.
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