Celebrities are a major target of human feelings’ ambivalence. Idolised one day, loathed the other. And all it takes for the shift to happen is one rumour spread by any website or shitty magazine. And everyone hops on the hate wagon because everyone loves to hate. To kill their idols. To belittle them in order to feel better about themselves.
Millions of people everyday shouting their opinions about Bill Cosby being a rapist, desacralising Michael Jackson for being a pedophile, calling Kristen Stewart a cheating whore, sharing and jerking off to photos of Jennifer Lawrence.
Millions of people lashing complete strangers, hating people they’ve never met, carrying one common trait: the eerie easiness with which they forget that they’re lashing and judging and hating real persons with real lives, real emotions, brittle careers, affected families, and an endless stream of problems they didn’t choose. They bask in judging complete strangers based on words written by another complete stranger, somewhere on a giant merciless, absurd web. And it’s no surprise because it’s a pattern: We idolised and killed polytheistic gods. We idolised and killed a monotheistic God. And now celebrities. Idolising them. Killing them.
But perhaps it is important sometimes to look the other way and dig a little inside our own selves and wonder what it is that’s so cruel about humanity that makes us crave that kind of fascination, an irrational love for strangers, followed by a callous pleasure in the lashing and the irrational hate of these same strangers.
Real people who don’t even know we exist.