The following are excerpts from Jeffrey Sconce's A Vacancy at the Paris Hilton. Sconce's essay speaks to the complexity and evolution of stardom and celebrity today. Sconce notes that despite being condemned by much of the public, Paris Hilton's intertextuality reaffirms her star status. He suggests the only way to put an end to what he calls the "meta/meta famous" is to overwhelm them with media; to permit them to become so intertextualized that it comsumes them, leads them to obsenity. According to Sconce, these vacuous celebrities need to become wholly visible 24/7 to once again become invisible. Sconce's writing, albeit overly colourful, is elegant and well-constructed. I very much enjoyed his wit and insightful reflection.
The signifiers of fame have become so completely detached from expressive talent that any residual investment in “creativity,” “genius,” and/or “depth” has long since evaporated from the scene (twenty years ago, Rupert Pumpkin in his most pathetic fantasies of fame and fortune still wanted to be a good comedian). In this respect, “talent” now appears increasingly to rest on an ability to reflect a leisure, pleasure, and discrimination back to the masses in the form of idlenss and spectacular consumption. As [Paris] Hilton's career demonstrates, her entire persona depends on her signature inability to do or contribute anything productive, making her fame the most pure and tasteful of all. In fact, since her entire persona depends on performing the role of a talentless and parasitical socialite whose only desire is to consume and be consumed as famous, then it necessarily follows that Hilton's “success” in any given endeavor – music, TV, film, animal husbandry – would sully and thus threaten to undercut the entire foundation of her career.
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To whit: an American Idol contestant enters the audition room and proves within seconds he has absolutely no talent, looks, charm, or charisma. Clearly about to be dismissed, he pleads earnestly with the panel, “Make me into a product, mold me into whatever you need to move records.” Despite this demonstration of eager pliability, “mold-me” Idol does not pass on to the next round. The show on his face reveals he truly believed his performance of insider knowledge would be the key to the kingdom of fame. Surely Simon, Paula, and Randy will respect that I, too, know this is all a charade, that with today's studio and promotional wizardry, even Helen Keller could be on Top of the Pops.
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Success now equals unlimited access to self, money, and sunshine. And, as fame becomes increasingly detached from talent, achievement, or even potential, we can look forward to a world where, more and more, only less and less talented people will be drawn to Hollywood – like cloned moths bonded by gradually disintegrating genetic code attracted to an increasingly simulated flame.
