It’s OK to mourn the death of inspiration
The other day I was hanging up a shirt in my closet. Out of nowhere, I thought, “I miss Robin Williams,” and sighed.
As snooty as I can get, there’s no denying celebrities are important to me. I use no hyperbole when I say the day George Lucas passes could potentially elicit as much grief from me as when my grandfather died.
I’ve never met either of these people, yet their works greatly influenced my development as a person. Lucas’s approach to writing and editing serve as part of the foundation for my love of writing, while Williams’ manic quickfire sense of humor molded my own into what it is today.
We live in a world where reality and pop culture are intertwined.
Society worships celebrities to the point where actual documented facts are ignored by fans (Chris Brown albums haven’t gone lower than No. 7 in U.S. charts since he brutally beat Rihanna), or baseless rumors are called facts by those who hold grudges against certain celebs (e.g. unsubstantiated rumors of David Bowie being a pedophile are treated as iron-clad fact online).
Treating a celebrity like a personal acquaintance is unhealthy, especially a celebrity who’s nothing more than a household name to said person.
As horrible as it sounds, we all know there are people out there who suddenly became diehard fans of Whitney Houston the day she died, despite having little to no knowledge of her prior.
It’d be foolish to argue Houston was an unknown to the 18-39 demographic, but she wasn’t… big. Incredibly talented, but not the center of a movement or attention.
That being said, there are people who are so prevalent they are almost part of the background. Alan Rickman is one of those actors who was simply part of existence.
Severus Snape, Hans Gruber and Alexander Dane are dead, and there’s nothing wrong with taking a moment to mourn our loss.
I’m not a fan of Bowie. I had nothing against the guy, just not into his style of music. Yet I understand his importance. The man was a living icon whose art inspired a hell of a lot of people.
A dreamer and an artist are dead. The day that becomes something people shouldn’t mourn is the day I’m done with humanity.
I find your comment about Whitney Houston astounding. She was arguably the greatest singer that ever lived and as iconic as Elvis or Michael Jackson. Not only is she one of the best selling artists of all time but every young singer today basically tries to imitate her way of singing, just watch any episode of American Idol or The Voice. To insinuate that she made no real impact or movement on the younger generation is laughable and I’m 28 years old! As people always say, before there was auto tune, there was Whitney Houston. She changed the way people sang songs, just think of the National Anthem or any love song. I will always love you is the biggest selling single in history by a female artist. Although Alan Rickman was very talented and loved by many people, to suggest that he was more part of existence than Whitney automatically renders your article a joke. I guarantee in 50 years time, the world will still know who Whitney Houston was, while Alan Rickman will be known as some vaguely familiar actor who was in some Harry Potter films…