Monday, July 04, 2005

Fame is a four-letter-word

Perhaps it's not a good thing to be famous. Sure, people recognize you instantly the moment you step into the room and you get certain privileges from time to time, but that's about it. The moment you become famous, suddenly your sorry arse doesn't belong to you anymore. Suddenly, people begin to have interest in what you do and say, and you have to be careful even when taking your pee. Of course occasionally you get the fan mails telling you how adorable you are, but there is a flip side of this: the hate mails.

Why am I suddenly talking about this? No, it's got nothing to do with Brad and Angelina, though I am talking about a particular "blog couple", namely Kenny and Wendy(they are not an item although their names rhyme!)- seems like their celebrity status has turned against them in one way of another. Actually they are not the only ones getting it, but it's a coincidence that both of them just blogged about it.

Why do people send crazy hate mails(or mean comments) to blog owners? It baffles me how these people think. For me, there are a couple of things you do when you visit a blog:

1) You read the blog,

2) If you think the blogger is a genius, you come back again, or

3) If you think the blogger is full of crap, you leave and never return

Simple, isn't it? But NO... Apparently some people are smarter than that. They've decided to email the blogger(or leave nasty comments) on whatever things they don't agree with. Better still, some even respond in their own blog and blast it all out.

A blog is like an online diary, who care if anyone reading it likes it or not? It is privilege given to us by the blogger... a peep into his/her life, etc. Therefore, no one has the right to be rude/mean to the blogger on what is written. If you don't like the paintings in the art gallery, just leave lah... why bother complaining to the artist?

Then there are those who don't understand what a joke is supposed to be. If you joked about Malaysian/Singaporean girls, some people suddenly got their sense of justice and start shooting you for it. What's the matter, people? Short on supply of Prozac?

Today happens to be my nephew Daryl's 22nd birthday! Here's a picture of the boy:

yeah, he looks like a horse


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