The irritating thing about Adam Curry's essay about the murder of a Dutch politician is the statement, «I've enjoyed fame and recognition . . . » He may have enjoyed recognition, but fame? no: I think that what he has 'enjoyed' has been not fame but celebrity (first, were he indeed famous, no need to say: we'd all already know: it would go without saying). Adam Curry is not famous: he has celebrity, which is something other than fame. By using his celebrity as an example for his argument, he has revealed its nature.

For celebrity is an occupation: it has to be worked at, like a job. Indeed it is Job One for a celebrity. It must be raised as a topic. A celebrity is always letting you know that she (or he) is a celebrity—which is why it is no surprise that so many discourses get brought around to it.

It's a job: you have to go out of your way, you have to make an effort—a very sincere effort—to construct celebrity. You have to position yourself to be before the microphones or cameras of broadcast radio or TV.

Unlike fame or genuine esteem celebrity is a manufactured thing. It must be kept up—it is heavier-than-air, it doesn't float without propulsion. It is a like a fragrant gas which sinks quickly after emission (recalling Sylvester Stallone's remark, "a star is a giant ball of gas"). It is as artificial (and as smarmy) as the cloying scent of canned air freshener.

Celebrity is a product of the enterprises of advertising and publicity; fame (and infamy) are not.

Celebrity is marked by self-consciousness and caring what other people think; is associated with social envy, gossip, and hucksterism.

Fame and infamy are conferred by an altogether different process. For the most part, the famous (and the infamous) are usually so focussed on (or obsessed with) the interests or passions which make them famous that they have nothing, or nearly nothing, to say about fame or infamy. Fame is an artifact, associated with esteem and reputation. Fame is marked by un-self-consciousness and not much caring what people think.

In the last few columns I've made distinctions and definitions. That's what clear thinking is about: separating what is from what isn't. That's what I do, and what I'll continue to do, as long as people keep prevaricating, blurring, smearing, obfuscating.

Maybe it's like Sherlock Holmes dictum (that after all the impossible things will have been eliminated, the remaining possibility, no matter how implausible, must be the explanation). I say, what's true may be whatever is left after all the tergiversations have been peeled off.