My One (And Hopefully Only) Comment About Paris Hilton

As the “old” internet adage wisely goes, “Don’t feed the trolls.” I’m not going to do much to contribute to the Paris bandwagon as it already has tons of momentum going for it, ad nauseum, but I will say that not too long ago, I finally got around to watching the commercial Paris did for some hamburger franchise who’s name totally escapes me.

The commercial involves Paris–first in a fur coat and bikini, then only the bikini–washing a car with lurid close ups, slick lighting and a cover of a classic song “I Love Paris” (Done by the likes of Cole, Fitzgerald and Sinatra) with a ripping guitar accompaniment. Mostly it shows off the benefits of wealth on anatomy and occasionally shows Paris biting into said Anonymous Burger.

The first thing that struck me when I saw this was “My God, Verhoeven and Miller were right.”

This commercial plays exactly like the kind of joke commercial that would have appeared in the first two Robocop movies, except that, horrifyingly enough, it’s genuine. I find it profoundly disturbing to think that something that was thought of as ludicrous excess worthy of satire in the 80′s has now become actual marketing staple in the “zeroes” (Or “00′s” for you consistency nuts out there). What does it say about civilization when something that was initially a bad joke has become standard advertising?

So This Is Being Old

Well, okay, maybe not “old” old since many people would scream at me for trying to stretch that point, but oldER.

It’s a trip and a half to actually stop on quieter moments some days and look back at what a childhood and teenage life have wrought, then wonder if it was all worth it. In my case, that answer is an unequivocal yes. Money/employment woes at the moment and not yet having a book published put aside, everything else is pretty much what I had hoped/dreamed for, or in some cases (like my fiance) grossly exceeded.

But it’s a humbling experience to take stock. I still remember being in university and seeing all my friends (Who I now never see, thanks to me being on the other side of the hemisphere) and hearing the banter, arguing, debating, wry commentary and slick ass jokes flying fast and furious in my home away from home, the fabled HUB Mall Arts Lounge, congretation point of geniuses, lunatics and other assorted People Of Character. One thing that struck me immediately was the vast, almost nauseating wealth of potential that I saw in these people. Whether it was kind, quiet guy with a heart of gold and a gift for mathematics I could never possibly understand, or a student of history so frighteningly and hilariously intelligent he was like a non-stop satire, only Chinese and prone viciously articulate social observation, or a belligerent bastard who was entirely too smart for his own good but seemed to deliberately take an opposing viewpoint just to start something, you could see in each one of these (And many other people) that there were places they could go.

Whether they should or did is another thing. But for the most part, I think it worked out amazingly well. Leave a reasonably talented and intelligent human being to their own devices, and it follows that–barring unforeseen catastrophe–they will eventually start realizing their gifts. It’s scary to think that the people who used to make me cross my eyes and think “Damn, that’s twisted…” are now the same people who are having some measure of influence on the world as the slow transition of generations begins. It’s gratifying, but at the same time frightening to think that these people who you personally know, are the ones helping to move the world along now, rather than faceless names in the lofty heavens above in charge of Politics, Art, Science, etc…

This is probably just me revealing more emotional immaturity, but it is only recently, watching these people I grew up take these kinds of positions, that I am finally able to view the mechanisms of society as human beings rather than Agency From Beyond. I mean, as a teenager, only discovering the world and attempting to connect with it, it’s one thing to read the papers and see reviews or political policy that’s enacted by “grown ups” you’ve never met, are likely never to meet, and, by virtue of the fact that they are adult, are “Other” to you and occupy some collective organism that is simply In Charge and steering the direction of culture and country. It’s quite another thing to see a name on the internet, or see a name on a credit in a television and show and think “My God, I know that person,” and suddenly the All-Seeing, All-Knowing organism is actually someone you once spent a birthday with taking turns throwing up into the toilet bowl.

I’m proud of my friends and the things they’ve done. I always had the suspicion that things would go this way, but it’s still vaguely frightening to see it come to life. Myself, I just wanna’ tell stories. It’s a simple wish, but it’s mine and I get one step closer every day to being able to do it for a living, but in the meantime, I still get to do it. I just hope sometimes that one day my friends will see in me the Promise Fulfilled that I’m seeing in them.