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I have a “To Kill” list. I don’t actually want to “kill” these people. I am not a pacifist, but I am also not a psychopath*. I would, really, just like the people on the list to Run Into A Glass Wall At High Speed And Let Physics Decide Their Fate. But, alas, that is too long to write on a post-it-note and still have enough space for the names that need to, really, just give up. So I say “To Kill”, really, for effect. If They were to disappear, however, I probably wouldn’t even miss a Marlboro inhale.

My list contains only the names of celebrities. People who fill the news and my life, whether I seek them out or not, on a daily basis. Sometimes, especially recently, their actions have trumped the importance of politics and scientific breakthroughs when current affairs are being reported. Eva Longoria, the first person on the list, is constantly telling me I am Worth It and I should dye my hair to make me really Worth It. Lindsay Lohan, meanwhile, continues to drag Alcohol’s fine name through the mud. Mariah Carey, Miley Cyrus and Fergie frequently commit mass murder on my ears and eyes, while Gwyneth Paltrow bitches about her life and, I think somewhat genuinely, expects me to feel sorry for her. Sometimes I wonder if she avoids watching the news altogether, celebrity or otherwise, and therefore can’t gain perspective over what actually constitutes A Problem.
All of these People, a term that should be used loosely, have a common complaint that marries them together into a polygamy of annoyance in my everyday existence. I don’t loose sleep over them, unless I am listening to Mariah sing, but I definitely cringe every time they ask me to respect their privacy.
“No,” I respond to the website/TV show/magazine. “I respect your right to privacy just about as much as I respect that outfit you are wearing.”
I’m looking at You, Lindsay.

Privacy, both in the celebrity world and our world, is an oft-discussed virtue that brings with it a sense of entitlement. Apparently, privacy is one of the upmost important natural-esque qualities a human being can have, as we are told it is integral to enable a normal existence. But most people have put a price on their privacy. And, to be honest, ten million dollars is about the value I would price-tag myself with to actively give-up my global privacy. Being dinner table conversation because I am sleeping with Zac Efron would not actually bother me. The aforementioned sex with Efron would ease the pain but, also, my hundred-dollar-bill ear muffs would serve as a barrier to remind me of what I got in exchange for something else. Simple capitalism, really.

Whether preached by the movie star or the mere mortal, privacy is the buffer between who we want to be and who we really are. My fascination with the concept of privacy, and its need to be linguistically reviewed, began when La Lohan started drinking and sleeping her way through life (which, in other circumstances, would have totally made us BFFs). My frustration became accelerated when she denied she was doing those things, and claimed a right to privacy as her defense. My initial problem was that, No, she had already made her deal with the devil and cashed the check, so she had made it my business, not the other way around. She knew what she was getting herself in to and now it was time to take responsibility for her actions. But, more importantly, and more applicable to the rest of the population, what really bothered me was her refusal to admit to her actual behavior, and own what she was doing. An act which creates an influential precedent for all of the people who don’t have Chanel sheets to catch them when they fell.

People make mistakes. It is one of the most obvious realities in existence, one that can be observed by the naked eye from the moment you wake up with a stranger until the moment you go to sleep with a new stranger. The paradox, however, is peoples refusal to admit, accept and own their mistakes. The seemingly endless conundrum of not wanting to declare a regret or a lesson to the public becomes hidden behind the veil of privacy. This very act, accepted by just about everyone, has a by-product of making Shame the instinctive emotion when faced with the humanizer, The Mistake. I have proposed, on many occasions, that this reality is damaging to society as a whole. It probably isn’t instigated by celebrities or the media, but it certainly is highlighted by them.

The role models and their behaviors that my brother and his friends, currently unlocking themselves from the prisons of childhood and breaking free into adulthood, have at their disposal are, collectively, people who promote irresponsibility from their actions. And Jessica Simpson, pushing female respectability back decades in the name of a paycheck. Furthermore, People drive Mercedes convertibles, are offered jobs at high-end fashion labels in metropolitan cities with little to no experience, and then have the audacity to call it “reality”. I can’t fathom the fall some teenagers are going to soon feel.
The media cannot, and should not, be blamed for anyones disappointment in how the world actually works. However, the significance of broadcasting society is a responsibility that seems to have fallen in the wrong hands somewhere along the way. It is a case of The Chicken And The Egg, really: Did Heidi Montag come first, or, is she literally a representation of what already existed? In that instance, either answer is horrifying.

When I have conversations with people in the real world, that place that exists outside the confines of Hollywood, the fear to actually be Who They Are is more consuming than capitalism. There is Who They Want To Be, a persona so inoffensive that it is validated by everyone and popularized like a prime-time sitcom, but it never encapsulates or acknowledges the flaws, the uncertainty, the ignorance that, actually, makes up a human being. The irony is that we hide the qualities that everyone can identify with and project characteristics that are only superficially desirable. Not all people can understand excessive confidence, necessary alcoholism or amazing blow jobs. But everyone not wearing a toe tag can wax lyrical about self-doubt, wonder and failure.

My fear is that the so called “social decline”, talked about by society and media in equal measures, is not the repercussion of pop-culture for entertainments sake, but that it is actually a reflection of how people really think. That people really believe that they should be ashamed over what they do and Who They Are. Drinking alcohol and having sex, for example, are not negative things. But the reasons why someone does such a thing can be negative. The insistence on hiding mistakes makes us to judge upon an action and leaves us completely ignorant to the Why or the Who. Social reflection comes a close second to the importance of personal reflection and is integral in the evolution to be better, and smarter, people on a global scale. Therefore, I don’t spend a lot of time perusing my “To Kill” list. Because, really, some people have real problems.

* About four people in the world may disagree.