the soft and intoxicating things that come with (some sorts of) fame, like surrounding oneself with sycophants and living luxuriously, could be achieved just through wealth alone. and perhaps they could be enjoyed more completely in anonymity.
but fame, and infamy for that matter, brings with it the possibility of living after death, to be remembered, to have left some proof of having existed at all. to set onself apart from the untold billions who are completely forgotten within a generation or two. how much do you know about your greatgreatgrandparents? probably not so much, unless they were famous. and you're the closest thing to them left walking, you have their DNA. imagine how little they exist to anyone outside your family.
and even if the famous dead's afterlife existence is only spectre-like and invisible to the the famous dead themselves, it is some sort of an existence nonetheless. soupy sales and karl marx and mel blanc and jimi hendrix and george washington and sharon tate still exist in some sort of way today and tomorrow and 300 years from now they will too, unlike you and I. Most likely.
― Fritz Wollner (Fritz), Friday, 20 May 2005 03:45 (twenty-one years ago)
― Unfortunate Prankster (Unfortunate Prankster), Friday, 20 May 2005 03:48 (twenty-one years ago)
― Fritz Wollner (Fritz), Friday, 20 May 2005 03:56 (twenty-one years ago)
A man from a nearby village heard Nasrudin had the best crops for miles and miles and socame to Nasrudin's hut seeking his special farming secrets. When Nasrudin answered the door, the man asked, "Are you Nasrudin, the man with the best crops in the land?" Nasrudin answered, "Yes, that's me." The man began to bargain with Nasrudin, but Nasrudin discouraged his efforts. Finally the man offered, "Nasrudin, I will pay you three harvest's profit for the secret of your crop!" Nasrudin argued that it was certainly not worth that much, but the man insisted and eventually Nasrudin agreed to the bargain. "Well, what is the secret?" the man begged. "Well, first of all," said Nasrudin, "my wife is an excellent cook." The man stomped his feet, demanding more. "And secondly," Nasrudin winked, "I owe everyone in this town a big favor."
― Unfortunate Prankster (Unfortunate Prankster), Friday, 20 May 2005 04:00 (twenty-one years ago)
― charltonlido (gareth), Friday, 20 May 2005 04:02 (twenty-one years ago)
― Orbit (Orbit), Friday, 20 May 2005 04:23 (twenty-one years ago)
― gypsy mothra (gypsy mothra), Friday, 20 May 2005 04:35 (twenty-one years ago)
― Amateur(ist) (Amateur(ist)), Friday, 20 May 2005 06:14 (twenty-one years ago)
― gypsy mothra (gypsy mothra), Friday, 20 May 2005 06:26 (twenty-one years ago)
― Amateur(ist) (Amateur(ist)), Friday, 20 May 2005 17:14 (twenty-one years ago)
― Unfortunate Prankster (Unfortunate Prankster), Friday, 20 May 2005 17:56 (twenty-one years ago)
― Unfortunate Prankster (Unfortunate Prankster), Friday, 20 May 2005 17:57 (twenty-one years ago)
― Ian Riese-Moraine is on toffuti break! (Eastern Mantra), Friday, 20 May 2005 19:18 (twenty-one years ago)
― Rickey Wright (Rrrickey), Saturday, 21 May 2005 01:40 (twenty-one years ago)
-- Unfortunate Prankster
I'm going to need to have this one explained to me.
― moley, Saturday, 21 May 2005 07:27 (twenty-one years ago)