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The bubble, Fame**…
Fame is a potent drug. Press and broadcasters are well aware of that. Which is why they are so quick to dole it out in little (taster) packets. A dash of fame. A dollop of flattery. Before you know it, you’re hooked and dancing along to a merry tune that has far more to do with audience figures and dunking on trans folk than any real benefit to the community.
Now read on.
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You know me. I do like a good digression. How better, then, to start than with some musings on fame and…greatness.
Specifically, literary and artistic greatness, two qualities that we are quick to apportion to individuals that we then elevate above the common crowd. It is a thing i have long been suspicious of when it comes to writing; painting; or, more generally, the making arts.
The myth of heroic individualism
To me, it seems mostly myth. It is based on the idea of heroic individualism; the notion that somehow, some individuals are (literary) geniuses. Quantifiably head and shoulders above…