Sydney has "crazied it up" today. I woke up early to watch "One Direction" hysteria hit the airwaves, telewaves and all other sources of media. It's looking as if not since the Beatles has this sort of insane screaming teenage nuttiness been evident. I absolutely love it I have to say. I get very much involved in all the hysteria and even wish fleetingly that I was 15 again, tears streaming down my pale face just longing for the boy in the red trousers :-)
I read an article by Mia Freedman who managed to collide with the young whippersnappers at the studios of Channel 9 where Karl S had made me guffaw by picking one of the aforementioned band members up and declaring a "man crush". The guy has me in stitches I have to say and he is the main reason I turn the telly on of a morning.
I have even begun following their progress on Twitter for goodness sake, and found myself guessing what they would have for lunch. It's absolutely preposterous I don't mind admitting. Such is the phenomenon that is fame, whether it be fleeting or everlasting, you can guarantee it will involve you both voluntarily and against your will.
To analyse this different type of fame however, this is the insane kind. The kind where people faint, get hurt, and create absolute mayhem. Such is the intensity of the passion for the object of their desire.Kudos to the boys for mentioning how they would like their fans to stay safe and not step all over each other just to catch a glimpse. The adrenalin is at such a heights, these youngsters are totally overwhelmed by it. I can only imagine what being the object of this desire is like. It would be much safer to be the object I think than to be the one objectifying. Having totally absorbed myself in Michael Jackson for many years I am fully aware of just how obsessed you can become with a celebrity. It's a shame in some ways that I have grown up, the pain was real but it was worth suffering for the feeling I got when running around Wembley stadium in efforts to watch the legend himself perform on his "History" tour.
Of course my adrenalin levels hit such dizzying heights during this concert that I have absolutely no recollection of it. I remember prior and I remember the ride home but I think I took myself to a faraway MJ land in the time between. It's an absolutely bizarre fact. Escapism is magical. The comedown was a bit bumpy however.
In any event it's safe to say in most cases this is harmless fun and when you're that young you can attach huge meaning to these people. I know Hannah, the girl who was pulled from the audience this morning will remember that moment fondly for the rest of her life and if nothing else, no matter where these boys end up, they will never forget being admired at this level. It's a level of "Crazy" reserved for untainted, pure and young idealism and I think it's beautiful.
I read an article by Mia Freedman who managed to collide with the young whippersnappers at the studios of Channel 9 where Karl S had made me guffaw by picking one of the aforementioned band members up and declaring a "man crush". The guy has me in stitches I have to say and he is the main reason I turn the telly on of a morning.
I have even begun following their progress on Twitter for goodness sake, and found myself guessing what they would have for lunch. It's absolutely preposterous I don't mind admitting. Such is the phenomenon that is fame, whether it be fleeting or everlasting, you can guarantee it will involve you both voluntarily and against your will.
To analyse this different type of fame however, this is the insane kind. The kind where people faint, get hurt, and create absolute mayhem. Such is the intensity of the passion for the object of their desire.Kudos to the boys for mentioning how they would like their fans to stay safe and not step all over each other just to catch a glimpse. The adrenalin is at such a heights, these youngsters are totally overwhelmed by it. I can only imagine what being the object of this desire is like. It would be much safer to be the object I think than to be the one objectifying. Having totally absorbed myself in Michael Jackson for many years I am fully aware of just how obsessed you can become with a celebrity. It's a shame in some ways that I have grown up, the pain was real but it was worth suffering for the feeling I got when running around Wembley stadium in efforts to watch the legend himself perform on his "History" tour.
Of course my adrenalin levels hit such dizzying heights during this concert that I have absolutely no recollection of it. I remember prior and I remember the ride home but I think I took myself to a faraway MJ land in the time between. It's an absolutely bizarre fact. Escapism is magical. The comedown was a bit bumpy however.
In any event it's safe to say in most cases this is harmless fun and when you're that young you can attach huge meaning to these people. I know Hannah, the girl who was pulled from the audience this morning will remember that moment fondly for the rest of her life and if nothing else, no matter where these boys end up, they will never forget being admired at this level. It's a level of "Crazy" reserved for untainted, pure and young idealism and I think it's beautiful.
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