THE BONO EFFECT or THE CULT OF PERSONALITY

Because my brain would much rather remember information that is, of course, of no use whatsoever.

The weird thing is that I feel that it�s no longer a case of these celebrities being stalked by the press : I think the celebrities are stalking the press. And I feel as if they�re following me around. That they need me and my attention a lot more than I need them.

This time, when the face of these people seems to multiply until they�re everywhere, they�re all you can see.

I call this The Bono Effect. You become sick, repulsed of seeing these same faces. Even the people on the street look like celebrities, and when you do actually see a celebrity, the sense is not one of recognition, or anything like that. It�s merely a case of �Is that it? They look taller on TV.�

Especially Bono. For a while, in fact, even now, everytime I see Bono, I just feel�. Oh. Not again. He�s everywhere. Like an army. In fact I�m beginning to think there isn�t just one Bono, but dozens of them , look-alikes moulded by plastic surgery, an army of clones like foreign dictators, whose job merely is to be Bono. No doubt Bono appears in torture chambers, no longer the interrogator, but as The Saviour, busting free those causes championed by Amnesty, and probably in seven separate prisons at once, whilst simultaneously campaigning for Third World Debt Relief.

�POSH� IS MORE THAN A LABEL

What saddens me is that no only do I know of David and Victoria Beckham, but I also know how much they earn (Victoria, at �1million per annum earns just 5% of her significantly richer husband), and the names of their idiot spawn children : Romeo and Brooklyn.

I really, really don�t give a shit about what jumped up, famous-for-being-famous, useless wastes of semen are doing. I�m interested if one of them makes good records, and is putting a record out. I�d like to know when that is. But that�s it.

I don�t care if they eat Tofu or visit stripclubs.

I don�t care about some woman famous for showing her tits and what she is (or isn�t wearing) when she falls out of a club at 3am some mid-week morning. .

I don�t care about a footballer and how he holds hands with his wife. I don�t care about reading the body language.

And I really, really, really don�t give a shit about which famous person is fucking another famous person, or if they go to a club, or pick their nose, or anyfuckingthing like that. In fact, I think those fuckers are stalking me.

THE CULT OF PERSONALITY

Everywhere I go, everytime I pick up a newspaper to try and found out what�s happening in the real world (that is, the political world, the world where Presidents usher in The Rapture and press big red buttons marked �Apocalypse Pow!�), I�m confronted with the news of how some no-mark, talentless Sleb has been shagging someone, or taking drugs, or something.

Like big fucking deal. Like, so what? Like, I don�t care. I think the impending Apocalypse, invasions, world wars, chemical weapons, they�re a tad more important than who Derek Beckham�s fucking.

Seriously, if you were married to Posh Spice, you wouldn�t would you? I�d rather shag well�. Anyone, probably than that intelligence-challenged stick-insect who gets her style off Chavscum.co.uk

But now we�re getting personal. And it helps if someone actually has personality. But these days the problem with famous people is that they haven�t got personalities. They�re cyphers : cardboard stick figures herded in front of cameras and told not to mention the war.

The Cult Of Personality relies on having a Personality. Not being one of these vaccous fools who fills in a college yearbook with an ambition to be �famous�. Not to be famous for being a singer, or a writer, just to be famous for being famous. Not even being rich, or talented. Just famous.

I see these emptyheaded morons more than my friends. Every day, even when I try to avoid them, my glance falls upon a picture of someone who is well known for being well known.

I swear they�re stalking me. I swear they are. Everywhere I look they�re there. They want me to know all about them � as if there isn�t enough I don�t know, and all of it is far far more important than the lives of empty celebrities.

The time will come. I swear it. When these celebrities fade from the public eye, when people will no longer be obsessed with the minutae of the lives of other people. And then instead of bombarding us with the media, they will stalk us individually. Track down their once-greatest fans, who have now, hopefully, grown up and Got Lives, and abandoned their sad idol worship. Celebrities are not idols : they�re just people, like everyone else, and they like the rest of us, have got to sit to shit.

Maybe starved of the oxygen of publicity, they will realise that there�s more to life than being really really good looking, and stuff. Thou shall no worship False Idols. But you can worship me, if you like. Just ask first, and join the queue.