Public Taste


There is no accounting for public taste.  PT Barnum famously said that nobody ever lost money by UNDERESTIMATING public taste.  Spend an hour trolling what is hot and what is not on the internet and you rapidly gain an appreciation for the breadth of the church that is “popularity”.  The prevalence of cat videos consistently astounds me.  There is an entire race of people out there who seem to spend every waking moment following cats around with a video camera looking for the next YouTube sensation.

From time to time something pops up that really piques my interest.  I have heard of the women who fall in love with death row inmates, or who marry mass murderers who are in prison for life.  There is something about a dangerous man that flips an attraction switch for some women.  So I guess this story should come as no surprise:

A police mugshot of a good looking guy goes viral.  Good looking and clearly dangerous when you consider the context, the prison tattoos and the scar over his eye.  But contrast this with the teardrop tattoo, the sensitive lips and the deep penetrating eyes.  Obviously a guy with a very sensitive side (go on, admit it) who brings out the mothering instinct in many women, and the messiah instinct in others.  You know, that instinct to save him from the inevitable wreck that is life is going to be.

What this guy needs now is a good agent, a PR guru.  A ghost writer to pen the “autobiography” so we can share the pains, trials and tribulations of his back story.  He needs a stylist to dress him for the trial, really bring up those qualities that the head shot captures.  Give him a voice to go with the looks.  Then before you know it we can get him on Ellen, Oprah, Letterman, Leno.  Option the movie. Release a hip-hop album.  A line of clothing.  Sports shoes.  A fragrance.  Lets harness these 15 minutes people!

On Fame; by John Keats

FAME, like a wayward girl, will still be coy
To those who woo her with too slavish knees,
But makes surrender to some thoughtless boy,
And dotes the more upon a heart at ease;
She is a Gipsey,—will not speak to those
Who have not learnt to be content without her;
A Jilt, whose ear was never whisper’d close,
Who thinks they scandal her who talk about her;
A very Gipsey is she, Nilus-born,
Sister-in-law to jealous Potiphar;
Ye love-sick Bards! repay her scorn for scorn;
Ye Artists lovelorn! madmen that ye are!
Make your best bow to her and bid adieu,
Then, if she likes it, she will follow you.