Even D-Listers Settle for Dwindling Internet Attention

There are totally obscure idiots named Shauna or Darren who consider themselves "Pretty famous" because a GooTube item might get 60, or 600 or 6,000 hits. Which is NOTHING.

These fools figure they're THISclose to getting paid? WHO gets paid? You mean, paid by the BBC to open packages and show people what new crap they should buy? Paid to play a club when people would rather stay home and get 200 TV channels FREEEEEE? And only go out if it's a very close friend they have to pamper or a really big name they can't dare miss?

The sad thing is that the same delusional behavior marks the has-beens and D-listers. THIS guy plays ONE local venue (because he knows the owner). The place probably doesn't seat more than 50 or 100 people. "What, and leave show biz??" And, oooh, 6,000 moochers see it FREEEEE in an obscure streaming Internet site IF they have the right app. Another bunch of stragglers may watch if it's posted on FARCEBOOK.

What's this say to the general public? Nothing. They don't know about it.

Happily, this occupational therapy for Shauna, Darren or THIS guy, seems to work. They function. One or two people leave "nice" comments that are ludicrous like, "That was very entertaining" or "You should have your own prime time TV show, how stupid that nobody is doing that for you."

Some of the young ones forget about it, get married, and overpopulate the world. Some of the old ones forget where the camcorder is stashed, realize it's embarrassing to have few GooTube hits, and quit.

Then there are these perpetual creatures in front of the camcorders. They don't get better. They usually get worse. Even their lighting stinks. But it's something to do. Isn't it? They hypnotize themselves. They really do. Either they look like they're on drugs as they get pushed out onto the stage, or they act like they've taken massive ego pills that make them think that everything they say, every raised eyebrow, every grimace, every whisper, every smirk, every "here we are again" is PURE GOLD.

Their already inflated egos help them pass more gas. They live by that great truth: "well, er, it beats doing nothing." Somebody important MIGHT be watching. And shuddering.

Sure, and it also beats creating or maintaining friendships in the real world.

Right, Little Miss Cover-Songs, Mr. Big (and Fat) Opinion Babbler or Mr. "I can only see the first few rows and barely hear the laughs anyway, so who cares if it's 50 or 500 people." Keep up the delusions. Find a reason to be cheerful: "A few strangers glanced for a minute or two at something I did last week." And if you can't put up something new, for whatever reason, guess what, nobody will miss you. There's plenty of other lame shit out there from other has-beens and never-was fools, and FREEEEEEEEEEEE.