The ever-expanding populist media (YouTube, Twitter, MySpace, Facebook, Iphones, Ibooks, I everything) exacerbates twisted bestial idol-worship of celebrities.
Like the deformed genetic hybrids of Dr. Moreau, members of the public believe that we can be better, maybe reach perfection, by emulating — or at least admiring, following, twittering, stalking, imitating — the celebrities who dominate the airwaves. Yet like those very illusory half-breeds, we can become unrecognizably cruel, petty, and unwholesome at the devastating, yet inevitable reality, that the good Doctor whom we trusted to make us better is in fact no better than we, except in one respect: he was better at conning us into believing the big lie.
In part, I think this is why so many people tear into celebrities. Consider Charlie Sheen, who is melting down before the world. People are watching this former-TV star self-destruct in webcasts.
Today's celebrities, however, do not necessarily indoctrinate us with claims to perfection. We just coerce ourselves into the delusion, with TMZ-TNT reporting helping us along.
The world has always loved watching the mighty go down.
It compensates for the frustrated envy which plagues the man who wants what others have, but is not willing to work for it.
Whether we are willing to admit it to ourselves or not, we even envy those who have, whether they earned their position in life legitimately or through unwholesome, worrisome, weird, wild, or just plain wicked ways.
When they go down, they go down hard, like the Titanic: slow, painful, and everyone is watching.