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Desperate Working Mommas
Your one-stop site for fanatical television snarking, questionable political analysis, occasional attempts to address the parenting issues facing working mothers, and halfhearted promises to stop obsessing about the entertainment industry, already! Oh, not to mention the random bitching and moaning. There's always that.
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
"Too Much Time On My Hands"

(Warning: If you are a rabid, crazed Constantine or Betty fan, GO AWAY! I did not invite you here! Stop your obsessive Googling of Constantine and take back your life! Do your homework! Go shopping! Read a book! Play with your kids! He doesn't know you are ALIVE, and if he did, he'd be scared of you! I am SO not kidding.)

Hmmm. I must say, all this pointless controversy over a wickedly funny April Fool's joke gone awry has started me thinking...

Crazed celebrity fans. An interesting phenomenon. Madonna has 'em. David Letterman has 'em. O.J. Simpson has 'em. Michael Jackson has 'em. And apparently, Constantine Maroulis has 'em. Oh, ho, ho, yes he DOES.

Now these are not your normal, everyday, garden-variety fans. Oh no, no, no. Don't think it for a minute. Madonna's obsessive, crazed fans set up pricey shrines to her and break into her house. David Letterman's obsessive, crazed fans stalk him, break into his house, and concoct plots to kidnap his baby. O.J.'s obsessive, crazed fans, despite all evidence to the contrary, continue to believe in his innocence. Ditto Wacko Jacko's fans.

And Constantine, a contestant on a freaking nationwide popularity contest for God's sake!, has obsessive, crazed fans who will go to extreme lengths to defend Constantine's honor, whether it be through name-calling, anonymous hate-mail posting, conferring with the FBI... Heh. Sorry, that one kills me. Anyhoos, all this, I say, so the boy can win a popularity contest.

Thing is, I can take Constantine or leave him. No, really. I honestly do enjoy his voice and his style, I get a kick out of how he is playing American Idol like the survival game it is, and I hope he does well because he has talent and smarm, oops, I mean charm. However, I cannot help but find it amusing to play devil's advocate and be the thorn in everybody's side, touting my undying love of all things Constantine. But truly? Whatev. *sigh* I know, I know. It's a character flaw. I freely admit this.

But as I was saying, these fans, these folks who incessantly harass a person for playing a funny joke, these people are diehard, obsessive, mentally-unbalanced, You Mess With My Idol And I Will Cut You fans. Fans who appear to cherish a belief that in some alternate universe they are in some way a part of Constantine's life. A member of his posse, if you will. Or the future mother of his child. Which, okay, just, ew. Ew! Bad Image. Very Bad Image.

Now don't get me wrong. Just worshiping a star doesn't make you dysfunctional (although the contrary nature of such a statement is utterly apparent to me). But it sure as hell puts you at risk of being so. It starts you On The Path. It's a tad scary, y'all, and the more I look at the AI and Betty website and read the posts of people jumping idiotically and unnecessarily to the defense of their imaginary idol, the more I hear the frenetic hero-worshiping, and the more I laugh at the beating of chests and the "I have FBI connections and am SO reporting you to the proper authorities" posturing, the more frightened I get.

Because don't you see? Don't you? Many of these fans are SO On The Path, and it is only a hop, skip, and a jump down the paved road to Bonkersville, that scary place where a teched fan goes off his or her nut, fills with irrational rage, love, or some other powerful emotion toward a celebrity, and acts upon it.

During my senior year of high school (1989 people; yes, I am OLD), I remember being shocked by the death of 21-year-old actress Rebecca Schaeffer (My Sister Sam? with Pam Dawber? Good show!) who was gunned down in her own home by a fan who had developed an obsession with her.

Speaking of, didn't an obsessive, crazed fan kill Selena? Didn't an obsessive, crazed fan kill John Lennon? Didn't an obsessive, crazed fan shoot the President of the Unites States just to impress Jodi Foster? Didn't an obsessive, crazed fan (of tennis star Steffi Graf) stab Steffi's opponent Monica Seles with a 5-inch serrated steak knife? At a tennis match? In front of God and EVERYBODY?! Why, yes, now that I mention it. He did.

I could go on. And on. And ON. I suppose all I am trying to say is this: if you catch yourself getting to the point where you are spending countless hours posting on a fan message board, if you are neglecting your family and friends, if you are failing out of school, if your dog runs away because you keep forgetting to feed him, if your children forget your name and refer to you as "that silly lady who sits in front of the computer all day," ALL because you can't seem to tear yourself away from the chat rooms and message boards of a celebrity, well, guess what? The Path is looming, my friend, and you had better get the freaking HELL off the internet and GET BACK TO LIVING.

That's all I have to say about that.

link | posted by Cat at 11:32 AM


3 Comments:
Blogger Shaun commented:

Your well-written post has driven me to an admission. I'm sorry, Kristine....sorry you have to find out this way, but......I posted the Constantine article and photo to impress....Randy Jackson. Not as an April Fools joke like I've been so desperately trying to ruse.

I LOVE you, Randy Jackson!! Why won't you answer my e-mails, Dawg?!?!

» 4/05/2005 12:19 PM 
Blogger Cat commented:

Yo, yo, yo! Randy! Dawg! Run for the hills! Run, Randy! RUN!!!

» 4/05/2005 12:32 PM 
Anonymous mrtl commented:

Great post, Cat! And hey - I graduated in 1989!

I've never been able to relate to the lusting crazed fan mentality that many get. I've had friends that staked claims on various celebrities, to the point that it was scary. They knew way too much information about the person.

» 4/05/2005 3:54 PM 

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