If Dickens was alive he’d concede talent counts for little and intelligence for less in one’s bid to become famous in modern society.
Thanks to the internet and TV today we’re breeding a generation of talentless twits who view fame as a right, not a privilege.
In the Dickensian era, society had great expectations of those who aspired to walk among the elite.
Therefore, if you weren’t born into nobility, you’d need to have been a philosopher, poet, artist or intellectual to have had even the roughest chance of making it.
But the rules have changed.
Sadly all that’s required now to see your name in lights is an over-inflated ego, under-inflated brain, balls of steel or sex appeal. And if you don’t tick any of these boxes, a neat party trick will do. Oh yeah, you also need a webcam.
“TALENT - What’chu talkin’ ‘bout, Wilko?”
If you think I’m joking, take YouTube lip sync sensation, Keenan Cahill, 15, from Chicago as an example. Now, how best to describe him? Let’s see, in this clip he looks like a ghostly reincarnation of Gary Coleman:
Whatever you think of his ‘talent’, it matters not because Keenan recently recorded a single, Down On Me, with 50 Cent. The clip has already attracted over 8.5 million hits on YouTube, so by my reckoning – he’s made it!
And consider Beauty and the Geek. To launch their respective careers, the girls needed to address only three criteria. They had to be blonde, generously proportioned, and answer ‘B’ to the following question: The world is A) Round, or B) Flat.
I say good luck to them. In years gone by I would have worried about the prospects of these girls, Keenan and the thousands of bold, brazen, yet talentless types just like them when the sun fades on their careers. But I’m not worried anymore. I’ll tell you why.
In the mid noughties I was employed as a youth worker on the NSW Central Coast and was tasked with interviewing kids at risk of disengaging from education before completing years 10 and 12.
At first I was surprised by their numbers; and then I was astounded and disappointed by their outlook to life post-school and lack of vision.
The boys planned to become footy stars or Eminem. The girls wanted to become models or Britney Spears. I pushed them for contingency plans should their dreams fall apart: the blokes figured they’d become builders; the girls - hairdressers and beauticians.
It didn’t matter how many viable and potentially more satisfying career alternatives I put forward, they were steadfast in their dreams. But I needn’t have felt frustrated, because as I mentioned – the rules have changed.
(Coincidentally, two of the buxom beauties appearing on Beauty and the Geek, Jessie, the winner, and Donna, who completed a hairdressing apprenticeship after leaving school in year 10, both hail from the sunny Central Coast. And when one considers the possibility I might have advised them about career choices – how proud could I possibly be!)
Anyway, it turns out my fears for young people were baseless. Instead of intervening, I should have shut up, stood aside and let their futures unfold.
After all, it seems opportunities for dumb-arses to make it big in this world are emerging all the time.
And if the number of footy stars, Eminems, and builders reaches saturation point, the guys can always go on the dole – problem solved. And if the world is finally overrun with hairdressers and beauticians, and when the girls assets begin their trek south (that is, after exhausting all photo opportunities with men’s magazines) they can always become checkout chicks. Everyone wins.
Everyone, except me. I’m destined to remain a miserable old fart trying to scratch out an honest living with few prospects of reward or escape…
Unless, I grow breasts.
I don’t mean the man boob kind (although they seem to work for Jack Black), I mean real breasts. And then my future is assured.
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