Jaded

I might be the last blogger in the blogosphere to blog about Jade Goody, but I was in the supermarket tonight and I was a bit overwhlemed by the number of tatty celebrity mags with 'tribute issues'. One of them (New) had an all black cover.

I recognise that it's sad when someone dies so young, and it's bound to be picked up in the gossip magazines when they are the arena she chose to live her short life in. But, still, this fetishization of tragedy is just bizarre. One of the magazines had the banner 'Farewell to Britain's brightest star'.

Really? "Britain's brightest star"? Are you insane, Mr Editor?

It's hyperbole gone mad. And hyperbole is already mad.

Not much love for the Vorderman

Star in a Jar suggests a new career for 'our Carol' could be... "lion food".

Can anyone better that?

This explains Big Brother

Food for thought from Scott Adams:

"My hypothesis for today is that a person’s need for social interaction is inversely related to the quality of his or her imagination. In other words, if you have an excellent imagination, you might enjoy people, but you’re equally happy to be alone with your thoughts for large stretches. To put it bluntly, you fascinate yourself.

A key part of my hypothesis is the assumption that people have widely different powers of imagination. This seems likely. People are all over the map for every other mental ability. Whatever is happening inside the mind of the person with the worst imagination on earth is clearly very different from what’s happening in the mind of the most creative.

Presumably, if you have no imagination whatsoever, you need to get all of your stimulation from the environment, mostly from other people, or at least TV shows about other people. You wouldn’t want to be alone with your thoughts for more than two minutes because your thoughts would bore the living piss out of you."

Scott poses the question: "Do you have an unusually good imagination? If so, do you enjoy being alone more than most people?"

And that does fascinate me. Because for a long time I thought I had difficulty making friends, until I took a Birkman profiling test which showed I was 'selectively sociable' ie I only look to a few people for approval/support. I did another psych test which revealed I was an introvert with extrovert characteristics. So I can get up and speak to a room full of people - but that doesn't make me an extrovert. I recharge my batteries by spending my downtime by myself.

Which presumably is why I can spend hours writing a story in a universe I'm making up off the top of my head and not feel tired, but twenty minutes into my work day in a crowded office and I become Lethargico, the Sloth Superhero.

And it also explains why people who I can only charitably describe as dullards buy Closer magazine*, care about whether D-list celebrities have tan lines, worry over Posh Spice's weight, and will watch the imminent new series of Big Brother.

*it even has the word 'loser' in the title. I mean, come on...