Have you achieved your fifteen minutes of fame yet? Well if you haven’t, or when you do, just remember—fifteen minutes is your limit! Not fifteen minutes and one second, not twenty minutes, and definitely not twenty-three hours and fifty-nine seconds. No, all you get is…
Or, if it makes you feel any better…nine hundred seconds—because it sounds like more.
This being a blog post of mine, I think I might achieve my fifteen minutes of fame in less than fifteen minutes.
Its not my edict, oh no, I’m a believer in unlimited fame.
But fame is fleeting, in fact, the time reduction on fame was imposed back in 1968. Before then, fame was virtually unlimited—well almost.
Before 1968, you could rack up fame minutes, “like nobody’s business” which means—most of you (living or dead, and most of you, are now dead) were likely never heard from. But for the few who achieved fame, it was probably for more than fifteen minutes—maybe forever.
But, more about fame. Prior to 1968—the sky was the limit when it came to fame.
But since 1968 (even with help from mass-media, paparazzi, tabloids, and reality television) you still only get…
Sure its still possible to earn fifteen minutes of fame—you may have to work really fast—but its still possible. Unless you are a Kardashian, in which case, I hope you’re on borrowed time. I mean, being famous for —BEING FAMOUS—is just wrong…don’t you think?
Yes, you can accomplish this amazingly—NOW MINIMAL FEAT—but don’t wait too long. You never know when special interest groups in Washington might lobby our Congress to reduce fame time from fifteen minutes to even less.
Could they do that, you ask? Well yeah…but that’s about it though. I guarantee they won’t accomplish anything else.
But, why you ask, did the ability to achieve ever-lasting fame get reduced for everyone, to only fifteen minutes?
In a word—Andy Worhol! Okay that’s two words but, its still one name, although you could just say Worhol and make it one word, but I decided to say, “in a word” and thus, screwed up and forgot to edit this sentence, so you’re now reading it as two words instead of one word, and all of a sudden I have a run-on sentence and am out of breath—gasp.
Actually there is some debate over who actually changed the fame time thing, but Andy generally gets the blame for it, and I am going to continue to blame him because, he’s dead and he can’t do anything to me. So there, Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah.
“In the future, everyone will be world-famous for fifteen minutes” so said Andy. So let it be written, so let it be done (like it was one of the Ten Commandments), and when did father time die and make Andy king of fame time, huh?
So the next time you stop and wonder about, when will your fifteen minutes of fame come, remember who to blame for only getting fifteen minutes when it finally happens.
And then ask; how did Andy come up with that arbitrary number—fifteen minutes—in the first place?
And then get back to me because…