Kevin Clash, The Royal Baby, & the Video Light
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But every now and then this feeling of disgust takes over, where I look at how completely terrible the spotlight/aka the "video light" can be, and what it does to the lives of otherwise innocent people who are really just trying to achieve their goals, live their lives, and make a few dollars in the process. Every now and then I am disguted by our media-hungry "society" (of which I am obviously first in line), and feel guilty for even caring about what happens in anyone's life outside of my Toronto circle.
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I literally knew nothing but nothing about this guy...and so it was a shock to my entertainment soul to like him so much...to only days later find out that these young men were alleging that he messed with them when they were underage.
Gay, straight. Whatever. But when the underage talk starts, it becomes really really unfortunate. And equally unfortunate is that this instant media spectacle will forever taint Kevin Clash's otherwise brilliant career and legacy. In just a matter of days, one (or three) desperate, fame-seeking "models," and so ends the career of a talented man.
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It's a tough call with victims and manipulation and broadcasting the news and the timing of it all. I don't doubt that it was hard for the younger men to air their business like that. BUT, I do think there is a way to go about things that wouldn't require the public embarassment on either end, and a personal resolution of the problem. Not to take sides, but something can definitely be said for discretion...especially since the allegations are years old, and that Kevin, Sesame Street, and children EVERYWHERE could potentially be influenced by this adult story.
Bad taste all around. And it's very sad.
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Yes, great to be royalty. She knew what she was getting into when she married Prince William. But so terrible that even the most precious joys and personal comforts of womanhood were robbed from her. And now she's up for at least 7 months of complete and excessive speculation, violation, and stress just because she so happens to be doing something that women everywhere have always been doing.
Again, she knew what she signed up for...but it's sad. Sad that their lives are SUCH a ridiculous fiasco. Sad that Princess Diana lost her life because of the same fiasco. AND EVEN WORSE....so incredibly TERRIBLE that the nurse at the hospital who answered the phone of those Australian prank-calling DJs has now supposedly taken her own life?!
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When I heard that news yesterday, my heart literally hurt. I thought about the pressure, the disappointment, and the shame this poor nurse must have felt as a result of innocently answering a phone call. I thought about how she thought the lives and protection of the Royals was more important that her own life, and it just hurt.
So Kate had morning sickness and was ill. Nothing too secret or invasive. But for whatever reason, this nurse (Jacintha Saldanha) thought it would be easier to die, than to forever face life as "the nurse who picked up the phone."
Sad. Sad. Sad.
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It is so extremely abused though, if put in the wrong hands! For example, Rob Kardashian this past week. What a fool! Airing his laundry in 140 characters, throwing his ex-girl Rita Ora (who I still don't fully know about or understand...what does she do?) under the bus, and doing so in a manner that only made him look bad.
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Whether you have 20 followers or 2 million, Twitter is a dangerous ass tool. Must be used with caution. Big time.
Speaking of love and heartbreak on Twitter...can someone tell Rihanna and Chris Brown to calm the f*** down with the picture posting already? I can't watch. Truly. If they want to be in a relationship, all the power to them. I don't have a strong opinion either way on what they want to do with their lives. They're young. They're rich. They're talented. The've got the world at their fingertips. They can either turn their story into a powerful legacy and redemption story by surviving the odds, and making great music together and sustaining awesome careers long until their 70s...or they can take this crazy love affair into a tragic story.
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Even as a grown woman, I love Rihanna's music. It's fun, it makes me feel good, and I can dance to it. Good stuff. I don't care if she wants to go back to her abuser. She's like 23. Of course she'll make foolish decisions...she's only human. BUT DAMN. They don't have to flaunt it, and get boasie about it, because if this goes sour again...what a backside!! It will be a shame of extreme proportions.
Discretion, folks. Discretion.
And how can you be discreet if your entire livelihood is built on you being in the public eye? How can you be humble, and private, and live your life when so many millions of people are so interested in your every move? Either to profit from it, to exploit it, or to make a mockery of it?
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And then there's those who truly just go "YOLO," do what they wanna do with no regard for consequences, backlash, or potential scandal. Living life in the moment and letting things fall as they may.
That's the biz, I suppose. As much as I love it, and enjoy it, and entertain myself with it fully...it has also given me a headache this afternoon as I ask myself if any of it is worth it?! It's such a fine line between huge success and all of the potential downfalls...and the fear of the other extreme: being irrelevant/mediocre/etc.
I love the media...I just fear it's destructive powers.
Written by Stacey Marie Robinson for Kya Publishing's "Urban Toronto Tales" blog.
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