Shining Time

Andy Warhol said "In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes."

Fifteen minutes. Everyone.

Right. Let me grab a Ouija board so you can hear me clearly when I say fuck you, Mr. Warhol.

So far that quote has messed up at least three generations.

Mine was perhaps the first generation to somehow have the idea that we all, each and every average ordinary nondescript one of us, will have fifteen whole minutes of fame in our lifetimes. Guaranteed (or at least promised) by a celebrity who understood (or at least revered) fame.

Yeah, subsequent generations have the Internet, but that’s really not much help. While the Internet grants fame more generously than a drunken lottery winner, it rarely lasts as long as fifteen minutes.

It’s a problem when we assume we’ll have our turn, if not at fame, at least in the spotlight of our own lives. Our time to shine, our place in the sun, whatever you want to call it, we’ve been conditioned by popular culture to have that expectation.

It’s hard to be happy when you’re constantly looking over your shoulder for some external acknowledgement that may never be there.

We, and the people around us, are pressured to provide what amounts to “Thanks for playing” trophies in daily conversation.

Focus shifts from achievement to perceived achievement, from humility to hubris, from contentment to “What do you think?”

It’s easy for Auntie to type ever so earnestly that you should be happy in yourself and stop looking around for validation. It’s even easier to say that fame is irrelevant without respect, and how much do you respect most people on magazine covers?

I could do all that but I won’t. I’m too busy checking my stats to see how many of you are seeing this.

Your quote stinks, Mr. Warhol. May you rest in peace.