. . . for  their unswerving devotion to the craft and taking a chance on an unknown.  Without your support, I’d still be slinging drinks in a bar back in Jersey.  Of course, my gratitude to the producers and director who saw in me the raw material possible to bring their creation to life.  I’m just the luckiest girl on the planet.

Tomorrow, my fee will increase exponentially and I’ll have less and less to do with the people who pushed me.  But that’s the price to be paid.  I’m a star; I can’t have useless hangers-on weighing me down.  Can’t you see my life is so much more important than yours?

Think of it:  Billions of dollars spent in the pursuit of the pretend.  Nothing is so relished as avoiding the boredom of our fake lives by complete absorption into even faker lives.  It’s as if we delude ourselves into believing the knot becomes untangled by tightening it.

Who doesn’t love a compelling story?  The characters, the photography, the pathos all hold us in raptures.  What will become of the heroine?  Will the hero sell his soul or come to his senses?  Nail biting adventures await you when the lights dim and the film begins to roll.

The only problem is the story isn’t real.  It’s no more real than the life you lead right now, albeit with more high-profile glamour and preferential treatment.  What’s worse, we worship the players and pay them exorbitant salaries, just our little way of thanking them for distracting us from the dullness of reality.  If life is so dreary, why do we watch the pantomime?  If you really are fascinated by human interaction and sizzling drama, why don’t you just watch your neighbors? 

Maybe it’s only stylized human behavior that intrigues.  Nobody wants to view the bloated alcoholic next door as he screams at his kids and beats his wife.  We’d rather pay big money and watch George Clooney do the same.  At least he’s handsome and has trimmer waistline.   Bile is so much easier to swallow when it’s disguised.


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