A low standard for icons

I’ve been thinking about the Anna Nicole Smith story and I have to say that I am perplexed by the entire thing. Well, maybe not perplexed as much as flummoxed. I’m not sure if that better fits the motion but you never get to say flummoxed in everyday conversation and it’s a perfectly good word. I need something to express my bewilderment at how this has become a national news story for a week now with no sign of ending.

First, we have the news anchors trying to describe how Anna Nicole is a celebrity. One said, and I swear this is a quote, that she rose to fame partly due to her appearance in Playboy. There really is no need for the word partly in that sentence. The only reason anyone knew who she was is due to her being Playmate of the Year during that brief moment in the early 90’s when Playboy was cool and hip again. She formed the triumvirate with Pamela Anderson and Jenny McCarthy of Playmates who crossed over into the mainstream. It was an interesting time having Playboy mean something again. Though to be honest, I think the popularity was due to the fact that they started releasing videos into mall stores, which was unbelievably edgy at the time. Now, thanks to the pornification of America, Playboy seems to be rather quaint. Like, “Aw look, they just show pictures of naked women. And nary a midget to be seen.”

Still, while Pamela had enough acting talent to appear vapid and oblivious on Baywatch and Jenny realized that she was the joke and became a comedienne Anna became, well, Anna. A Naked Gun film here, a direct to video movie there, absolutely nothing memorable at all. Then E gives her a reality television show in which she is portrayed as a heavily medicated, possibly delusional, really, really dumb blonde and for some reason that equates to further fame. But it wasn’t fame in the “wow, she is really talented” sense or even the “man, I wish I could have that life” sense. No, she was famous because she was living a completely screwed up life and decided to televise it. And the viewing public ate it up.

For some reason, this causes television commenters to compare her to Marilyn Monroe. But really outside of the facts that they were a) blonde, b) appeared in Playboy and c) died young they have nothing in common other than they both had two legs. I mean, that comparison is a slight on Marilyn’s character and I don’t think that highly of her to begin with. Yet CNN is covering this story day in and day out, letting me know where the body is and what was in Anna’s fridge and what random dude is now claiming to be the father and you have to ask yourself, why are people caring about this?

That’s a really tough question to answer because of what it implies. We watch because we like hearing about famous people, especially when they fail. We like lurid details about a life that we aren’t leading. But more than anything we like news stories that allow us to be completely oblivious to the world around us. Watching CNN cover Anna Nicole is the equivalent of sticking your fingers in your ears and going “La la la la la”. Forget the war in Iraq complete with helicopter crashes killing a dozen soldiers. Cover your eyes from the images of New Orleans where huge sections of the city are still uninhabitable eighteen months after the storm. Ignore the fact that when you look at the people around you all you can see is lives filled with so much quiet desperation that you go deaf from all the noise. We’ll all just sit back and watch Anna in all of its meaningless and frivolous glory.

All I can say is that I’m flummoxed.

Have a good weekend everyone. Stay warm.