OESTERHOUDT STRIKES
I am posting twice today in order to respond to something I find totally shameless. I just logged onto iTunes and decided to look over Michael Jackson's catalogue. I expected to see the usual $0.99 price tag next to each song. But then I saw that some popular tunes--like Thriller, Beat It, Billie Jean and Don't Stop Til You Get Enough--cost $1.29.
I recognized immediately that iTunes was gouging customers in order to exploit their sorrow and love the day after Michael Jackson died. They saw how many people were buying Jackson's tunes, likely encouraged by endless news coverage. So what did iTunes do? They recognized a "business opportunity." They decided to get a few million more dollars by raising the price on customers ready to pay anything. In short, they decided to profit from Michael Jackson's death.
I don't care whether this is "a good business move." It is just base. There are times to exploit outcry and public sentiment for commercial gain, but not right after someone dies. Why can't iTunes just charge the regular rate? I suppose they just couldn't resist cashing in on the once-in-a-lifetime spike in demand for these songs. Once the media coverage subsides and public interest returns to "normal," the price will revert to $0.99. Until then, iTunes is ready to rake in some extra dough on Jackson's death.
Things like this remind me why I detest commerce. I actually have some decency and would never think to make extra money because a person died. But that's why I am not successful in business; I have a conscience. I suppose I need to fix that if I want to start banking up some serious money in my life.
Ethics and decency are for paupers. Shamelessness and crude profiteering are for the successful. I'll take poverty, thank you.
I feel bad about Michael Jackson's death. I think he was a deeply unhappy man who never had a chance to live a relatively "normal" or "peaceful" life. His parents pushed him into the spotlight before he knew who or what he was. After that, his life was no longer his. The public thought he was a "weirdo." And no matter how much evidence the State mustered against him on child molestation charges, I could never escape the impression that he was on trial because people thought he was "too strange" for society. I am certain that this affected him. His whole life was a circus act. He could not really have been happy in these circumstances.
But iTunes doesn't give a shit about that. He died, he's enjoying renewed popularity because he's in the news and people are ready to buy his songs. This is no time to read eulogies. This is no time to reflect and express sympathy. Hell no: It's time to artificially raise prices and make some money, baby--just the way street hawkers raise the price on umbrellas when it starts raining.
Showing posts with label Fame. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fame. Show all posts
Friday, June 26, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
ART : TASTE, POPULARITY, DISCOVERY, FAME...WHAT DOES MERIT HAVE TO DO WITH IT?
AN ESSAY
What makes art great? Is it the color? The brushstroke? The imaginativeness? The originality? Does effort help? Is there some checklist to follow? Can you learn how to create great art? Or are great artists merely “chosen,” as if by fate? Why does a van Gogh sell for more than some unknown artist from the same era with a comparable style? Why are Basquiat’s dribblings worth more than an unknown artist from the same era who generated similar dribblings? In other words, what makes “great art” so special?
There is no way to objectively answer these questions. In fact, they are profoundly troubling. I am sure that art historians and university professors can lecture me on the myriad reasons why a Picasso is “better” and “worth more” than “lesser known” artists’ works from the same period. But I reject all attempts to objectively qualify art. Art has nothing to do with objectivity. And artists achieve fame because someone discovers them, not because they have “objective talent.” “Great art” did not become “great” because of some magical gift in the artist. Rather, it became “great art” because influential people liked it at the time and vigorously promoted it. Ironically, these influential people have never been artists, nor have they lived artists’ lives. Mostly, they have been bourgeois liberals with enough spare money to buy paintings, then yap about them to their bourgeois friends at wine-drenched gallery openings.
Art appeals to taste. Everyone has different tastes. While many people share tastes, no one can rightfully assert that their taste is better than another person’s. One person likes Limburger cheese. Another does not. One person likes pop art. Another hates it and doesn’t even consider it “art” at all. There is no way to objectively measure “artistic value,” because “artistic value” is a taste question; it is in the eye of the beholder—or perhaps, we should say, the tongue of the taster. Art represents an individual’s expression through imagery. Some will call it beautiful. Others will call it ugly. If enough people call it beautiful, they might make it famous. But maybe they won’t. The viewer is not bound to do anything. Viewing art is subjective; and the viewer is the ultimate judge. There is no objective standard: People either like your art or they don’t.
Art goes nowhere without viewers and their reactions. Once art appeals to a certain person’s taste, he might become enthusiastic about it. If he is a bum, it won’t matter. A bum doesn’t have influential friends or money to buy paintings. But if he is a lawyer, doctor or philanthropist, the possibilities grow. Well-heeled bourgeois know other well-heeled bourgeois. They talk to one another. They spend money together. They go to art auctions. If a rich dentist sees a painting he considers “fantastic,” he might tell his securities broker friend about it. The friend may agree, then tell his father, a retired banker with disposable income. In this way, art becomes “popular” among people in a position to make it “famous.” Once art achieves some popularity, promoters get involved. They spread the word even more, leading undifferentiated viewers to look at the art. “Wow,” think these new viewers. “If this painting is so popular, it must be good.” More and more people buy prints. The prints become famous.
Popularity, then, is a prerequisite for “greatness.” What begins as the fickle taste judgment of an individual bourgeois becomes the kernel for “great art.” Artists themselves have no power over reactions to their work. They simply live at a particular moment in time, express their feelings in visual form, then present their works. They cannot control whether they become popular. If Jean-Michel Basquiat had lived during van Gogh’s time, his works may not have generated as much buzz as they did in New York in the 1980s. And if Picasso were born in 1981, his works may not have generated as much buzz in Paris as they did because he was born in 1881. Artists become popular because they are born into particular times and places. Certain tastes exist at those times and in those places. Their work appeals to those tastes. When enough “influential people” become enthusiastic about their work, artists become famous. And once artists are famous, people start using the word “great” to describe them. Enough people like them. Enough people find their work beautiful. Yet they did not intend these results. The artist just went about his business. Fate blessed him with admirers who happened to find his work beautiful. He had no power to influence whether people would like him. They just did.
Some great artists got lucky during their lifetimes. Others did not. No matter whether they achieved fame before or after death, they never orchestrated it. In fact, most artists start off poor, wretched and despised. Artists do not “fit in” because they do not find “traditional work.” In western society, that is a sure way to attract scorn, both from society at large and from one’s own family. Picasso lived in an unheated Parisian flat when he was 20. Van Gogh bumbled aimlessly around Holland and Belgium, earning virtually nothing. Basquiat illegally spray-painted New York City subway trains; he was a “vagrant.” These were not “successful men.” They were outcasts, men who did not belong. They did not find “traditional employment” because they had larger things on their minds. They did not follow the “traditional life program.” According to bourgeois mythology, they should have come to ruin. Yet in each case, they became wildly famous. Why? Because some well-placed people liked their art, bought it, promoted it and made it popular. Gertrude Stein patronized and promoted the young Picasso. Andy Warhol patronized and promoted the young Basquiat. And numerous local bourgeois patronized and promoted van Gogh, although his fame did not mature until after he died.
But what made these men so special? Surely there must have been other tramps with artistic ability who simply did not have the good fortune to run into Gertrude Stein or Andy Warhol. If artists become famous because their work appeals to “influential tastes,” then blind luck plays a role in their success. After all, it is a matter of pure chance whether an “influential person” encounters a future “great artist.” Perhaps there have been other Picassos throughout history, but no wealthy barons saw their paintings in time. This is a disheartening thought. Yet I cannot escape it because “great art” depends on discovery. If some “influential person” does not discover an artist, no one will ever know about his genius. He will just die; no one will remember him. In fact, no one ever learned about him in the first place. In this sense, merit and genius have less to do with “great art” than good fortune. Picasso, Basquiat and van Gogh had sufficient merit to appeal to influential people’s tastes. But they also were lucky enough to have been discovered by the right people. Bums did not discover them. Bankers, lawyers, aristocrats, princes and wealthy dentists did. That is why we hail them as “geniuses” today. And that is why their paintings cost millions each.
“Great artists” owe their fame to their handlers. Fame, notoriety and popularity do not depend on intrinsic merit. They depend on others’ judgments. A person is not famous because he is intrinsically “the most talented” or “the smartest.” He is famous because enough people know about him. It is about numbers. If enough people know about you, you are famous. If they know about you because you supposedly create “great art,” then you are a “famous artist.” That does not mean that you are “intrinsically talented.” It simply means that your work appeals to many people’s tastes. To achieve fame, it is all about knowing the right people. Picasso, Basquiat and van Gogh luckily encountered people who had the power to effectively spread the word about them. Their work happened to please the right people’s tastes, and these people, in turn, told their friends about the art. Like wildfire, their popularity took off. Did their talent have anything to do with it? Perhaps. But talent alone did not lead to fame. Influential people did, along with their influential social networks. Put simply, “artistic talent” (if such a thing exists in the abstract) without discovery is like gold buried beneath the ocean floor—it is worthless. Only a determined miner can realize its potential. And the miner is the handler, not the artist. Without a handler and a promoter, the artist—talented or not—lies buried.
For all these reasons, I am deeply suspicious about assertions that certain art is “great.” When I look at art, I engage in an individual inquiry. I let art affect my own tastes. My tastes are my own; no one else controls them. I don’t care what art critics or professors say. If it pleases my tastes, I like it. If it doesn’t, I don’t. In many cases, I like art that has been labeled “great.” But I don’t like it because someone else told me it was great. I like it because my own tastes happen to match the majority’s. In essence, I remember that art is about subjective taste, not objective merit. And I remember that most art in famous museums or at Sotheby’s is only there because some wealthy promoter happened to really like it a long time ago.
All these things should deeply bother an artist. If I were an artist, I know they would bother me. After all, artists express themselves, no matter what people expect from them. They live dangerous, risky, unconventional lives. Yet no matter how powerful or meaningful their expression, they have no control over their popularity. They must surrender their fate to the subjective tastes of bourgeois art collectors and patrons, who all lead lives categorically different from the artist’s rebellious existence. Artists do not decide whether a millionaire banker likes their brushstrokes or paint splashes. The banker likes what he likes; it is not for the artist to say. The banker may hate the painting and walk out. Or he may fall in love with it, tell his colleagues about it, make the artist rich and attract an art museum’s attention.
What did the artist have to do with these reactions? Nothing. His “artistic ability” merely provided an opportunity for an “influential person” to react. But the power to react resides in the “influential person.” And fame does not result without a precise chain of lucky events that begins with discovery. Merit does not trigger this chain of lucky events. Merit merely provides an opportunity to appeal to an influential person’s tastes. That is only the first step toward fame—and possible “greatness.”
For better or worse, “greatness” in any endeavor depends on fame. No man is great if no one knows about him. Fame, in turn, depends on many lucky events, including the identity of the person who makes the initial discovery. “Great art” is great because the right people liked it at the right time. It is “great” because enough people who liked it were enthusiastic enough to promote it to others. Did the artist influence these reactions? No. He just painted what he saw in his mind. He expressed himself. He did not “make himself great.” Others did that for him. And they only did it because he appealed to their tastes, not because he had some magical talent that entitled him to greatness. In this light, “artistic ability” is at best overrated and at worst irrelevant. Put simply, “artistic greatness” derives from historical accident and dominant taste judgment, not self-revealing abstractions.
If Picasso had not encountered Gertrude Stein, he would have struggled on, alone and unknown. And if van Gogh’s paintings did not appeal to some wealthy patrons in Amsterdam, no one would ever have known about him, either. Their talents would simply have evaporated into the vastness of time and human experience, like so many others we never discovered. In sum, when it comes to “artistic greatness,” promotion and luck beat natural talent any day.
What makes art great? Is it the color? The brushstroke? The imaginativeness? The originality? Does effort help? Is there some checklist to follow? Can you learn how to create great art? Or are great artists merely “chosen,” as if by fate? Why does a van Gogh sell for more than some unknown artist from the same era with a comparable style? Why are Basquiat’s dribblings worth more than an unknown artist from the same era who generated similar dribblings? In other words, what makes “great art” so special?
There is no way to objectively answer these questions. In fact, they are profoundly troubling. I am sure that art historians and university professors can lecture me on the myriad reasons why a Picasso is “better” and “worth more” than “lesser known” artists’ works from the same period. But I reject all attempts to objectively qualify art. Art has nothing to do with objectivity. And artists achieve fame because someone discovers them, not because they have “objective talent.” “Great art” did not become “great” because of some magical gift in the artist. Rather, it became “great art” because influential people liked it at the time and vigorously promoted it. Ironically, these influential people have never been artists, nor have they lived artists’ lives. Mostly, they have been bourgeois liberals with enough spare money to buy paintings, then yap about them to their bourgeois friends at wine-drenched gallery openings.
Art appeals to taste. Everyone has different tastes. While many people share tastes, no one can rightfully assert that their taste is better than another person’s. One person likes Limburger cheese. Another does not. One person likes pop art. Another hates it and doesn’t even consider it “art” at all. There is no way to objectively measure “artistic value,” because “artistic value” is a taste question; it is in the eye of the beholder—or perhaps, we should say, the tongue of the taster. Art represents an individual’s expression through imagery. Some will call it beautiful. Others will call it ugly. If enough people call it beautiful, they might make it famous. But maybe they won’t. The viewer is not bound to do anything. Viewing art is subjective; and the viewer is the ultimate judge. There is no objective standard: People either like your art or they don’t.
Art goes nowhere without viewers and their reactions. Once art appeals to a certain person’s taste, he might become enthusiastic about it. If he is a bum, it won’t matter. A bum doesn’t have influential friends or money to buy paintings. But if he is a lawyer, doctor or philanthropist, the possibilities grow. Well-heeled bourgeois know other well-heeled bourgeois. They talk to one another. They spend money together. They go to art auctions. If a rich dentist sees a painting he considers “fantastic,” he might tell his securities broker friend about it. The friend may agree, then tell his father, a retired banker with disposable income. In this way, art becomes “popular” among people in a position to make it “famous.” Once art achieves some popularity, promoters get involved. They spread the word even more, leading undifferentiated viewers to look at the art. “Wow,” think these new viewers. “If this painting is so popular, it must be good.” More and more people buy prints. The prints become famous.
Popularity, then, is a prerequisite for “greatness.” What begins as the fickle taste judgment of an individual bourgeois becomes the kernel for “great art.” Artists themselves have no power over reactions to their work. They simply live at a particular moment in time, express their feelings in visual form, then present their works. They cannot control whether they become popular. If Jean-Michel Basquiat had lived during van Gogh’s time, his works may not have generated as much buzz as they did in New York in the 1980s. And if Picasso were born in 1981, his works may not have generated as much buzz in Paris as they did because he was born in 1881. Artists become popular because they are born into particular times and places. Certain tastes exist at those times and in those places. Their work appeals to those tastes. When enough “influential people” become enthusiastic about their work, artists become famous. And once artists are famous, people start using the word “great” to describe them. Enough people like them. Enough people find their work beautiful. Yet they did not intend these results. The artist just went about his business. Fate blessed him with admirers who happened to find his work beautiful. He had no power to influence whether people would like him. They just did.
Some great artists got lucky during their lifetimes. Others did not. No matter whether they achieved fame before or after death, they never orchestrated it. In fact, most artists start off poor, wretched and despised. Artists do not “fit in” because they do not find “traditional work.” In western society, that is a sure way to attract scorn, both from society at large and from one’s own family. Picasso lived in an unheated Parisian flat when he was 20. Van Gogh bumbled aimlessly around Holland and Belgium, earning virtually nothing. Basquiat illegally spray-painted New York City subway trains; he was a “vagrant.” These were not “successful men.” They were outcasts, men who did not belong. They did not find “traditional employment” because they had larger things on their minds. They did not follow the “traditional life program.” According to bourgeois mythology, they should have come to ruin. Yet in each case, they became wildly famous. Why? Because some well-placed people liked their art, bought it, promoted it and made it popular. Gertrude Stein patronized and promoted the young Picasso. Andy Warhol patronized and promoted the young Basquiat. And numerous local bourgeois patronized and promoted van Gogh, although his fame did not mature until after he died.
But what made these men so special? Surely there must have been other tramps with artistic ability who simply did not have the good fortune to run into Gertrude Stein or Andy Warhol. If artists become famous because their work appeals to “influential tastes,” then blind luck plays a role in their success. After all, it is a matter of pure chance whether an “influential person” encounters a future “great artist.” Perhaps there have been other Picassos throughout history, but no wealthy barons saw their paintings in time. This is a disheartening thought. Yet I cannot escape it because “great art” depends on discovery. If some “influential person” does not discover an artist, no one will ever know about his genius. He will just die; no one will remember him. In fact, no one ever learned about him in the first place. In this sense, merit and genius have less to do with “great art” than good fortune. Picasso, Basquiat and van Gogh had sufficient merit to appeal to influential people’s tastes. But they also were lucky enough to have been discovered by the right people. Bums did not discover them. Bankers, lawyers, aristocrats, princes and wealthy dentists did. That is why we hail them as “geniuses” today. And that is why their paintings cost millions each.
“Great artists” owe their fame to their handlers. Fame, notoriety and popularity do not depend on intrinsic merit. They depend on others’ judgments. A person is not famous because he is intrinsically “the most talented” or “the smartest.” He is famous because enough people know about him. It is about numbers. If enough people know about you, you are famous. If they know about you because you supposedly create “great art,” then you are a “famous artist.” That does not mean that you are “intrinsically talented.” It simply means that your work appeals to many people’s tastes. To achieve fame, it is all about knowing the right people. Picasso, Basquiat and van Gogh luckily encountered people who had the power to effectively spread the word about them. Their work happened to please the right people’s tastes, and these people, in turn, told their friends about the art. Like wildfire, their popularity took off. Did their talent have anything to do with it? Perhaps. But talent alone did not lead to fame. Influential people did, along with their influential social networks. Put simply, “artistic talent” (if such a thing exists in the abstract) without discovery is like gold buried beneath the ocean floor—it is worthless. Only a determined miner can realize its potential. And the miner is the handler, not the artist. Without a handler and a promoter, the artist—talented or not—lies buried.
For all these reasons, I am deeply suspicious about assertions that certain art is “great.” When I look at art, I engage in an individual inquiry. I let art affect my own tastes. My tastes are my own; no one else controls them. I don’t care what art critics or professors say. If it pleases my tastes, I like it. If it doesn’t, I don’t. In many cases, I like art that has been labeled “great.” But I don’t like it because someone else told me it was great. I like it because my own tastes happen to match the majority’s. In essence, I remember that art is about subjective taste, not objective merit. And I remember that most art in famous museums or at Sotheby’s is only there because some wealthy promoter happened to really like it a long time ago.
All these things should deeply bother an artist. If I were an artist, I know they would bother me. After all, artists express themselves, no matter what people expect from them. They live dangerous, risky, unconventional lives. Yet no matter how powerful or meaningful their expression, they have no control over their popularity. They must surrender their fate to the subjective tastes of bourgeois art collectors and patrons, who all lead lives categorically different from the artist’s rebellious existence. Artists do not decide whether a millionaire banker likes their brushstrokes or paint splashes. The banker likes what he likes; it is not for the artist to say. The banker may hate the painting and walk out. Or he may fall in love with it, tell his colleagues about it, make the artist rich and attract an art museum’s attention.
What did the artist have to do with these reactions? Nothing. His “artistic ability” merely provided an opportunity for an “influential person” to react. But the power to react resides in the “influential person.” And fame does not result without a precise chain of lucky events that begins with discovery. Merit does not trigger this chain of lucky events. Merit merely provides an opportunity to appeal to an influential person’s tastes. That is only the first step toward fame—and possible “greatness.”
For better or worse, “greatness” in any endeavor depends on fame. No man is great if no one knows about him. Fame, in turn, depends on many lucky events, including the identity of the person who makes the initial discovery. “Great art” is great because the right people liked it at the right time. It is “great” because enough people who liked it were enthusiastic enough to promote it to others. Did the artist influence these reactions? No. He just painted what he saw in his mind. He expressed himself. He did not “make himself great.” Others did that for him. And they only did it because he appealed to their tastes, not because he had some magical talent that entitled him to greatness. In this light, “artistic ability” is at best overrated and at worst irrelevant. Put simply, “artistic greatness” derives from historical accident and dominant taste judgment, not self-revealing abstractions.
If Picasso had not encountered Gertrude Stein, he would have struggled on, alone and unknown. And if van Gogh’s paintings did not appeal to some wealthy patrons in Amsterdam, no one would ever have known about him, either. Their talents would simply have evaporated into the vastness of time and human experience, like so many others we never discovered. In sum, when it comes to “artistic greatness,” promotion and luck beat natural talent any day.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
SPORTS STARS MUST BE MORAL
By : Mrs. Victoria H. Slotter, B.S.; Spokesperson, Americans United For Responsible Role Models and Good Living
America needs strong role models. Life is difficult and challenging. Dynamic American heroes give their fellow citizens hope and joy. Even in the darkest times, sports stars, actors and even political figures inspire us with seemingly superhuman exploits. Every morning, countless Americans escape their troubles by thumbing through sports sections, following their favorite players. Every week, countless Americans follow popular television actors and Hollywood personalities. They look up to them as heroes. Celebrities give every American a precious gift: The power to believe in something better than his own miserable lot.
In times past, sports stars occupied a hallowed place in the American mind. Baseball greats such as Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle and Tom Seaver brought joy to millions. They stood apart from the world. They seemed to have superhuman abilities and unimpeachable personalities. They provided a good example for children, and they set a decent standard for the rest of us. They led good, decent lives; they inspired us. They recognized their fame and respected it. They did not engage in behavior that would have tarnished their image for the rest of us. In short, they recognized that their fame brought responsibility. And they responsibly honored their obligations.
But where are the heroes today? Where are the selfless sports stars? Today, sports stars make news for all the wrong reasons. We hear about Barry Bonds and Alex Rodriguez abusing steroids. We hear about Lance Armstrong “doping” to win the Tour de France. And we see photographs showing Olympic great Michael Phelps smoking marijuana from a “bong.” These stars are not just hurting themselves; they are obliterating the hopes and dreams of millions.
Americans need responsible heroes, not cheaters, wife-beaters and stoners. We, Americans United for Responsible Role Models and Good Living, believe that sports stars have a responsibility to be responsible. With fame comes responsibility, and sports stars must recognize that they no longer may live merely for themselves. They must consider the effects their actions will have on the public. At a time when Americans are losing their jobs and homes, belief in superhuman sports achievements is more important than ever. Sports stars have a duty to sustain the fantasies of everyday Americans, and we are determined to protect those fantasies.
In the past, great sports stars did not just excel on the playing field. They were decent people, too. Decent people lead moral lives. One cannot live a moral life if one engages in any form of immorality whatsoever. We propose forbidding sports stars from engaging in immorality. This will enable them to be decent people. For example, it is immoral to smoke marijuana from a “bong.” It sends the wrong message to our children, no matter how successful Michael Phelps may be. It is no defense to say that successful people should get away with things that would land others in hot water. Rather, sports stars must set a higher example. Fame impacts privacy, and we intend to closely monitor sports fans for immorality.
We demand that sports stars remain inspirational. To accomplish that goal, we must ensure that sports stars are decent people. We can do this by compelling major stars—both in sports and entertainment—to sign sworn commitments pledging never to engage in immoral behavior. For example, to be decent, Michael Phelps cannot merely apologize for smoking marijuana from a “bong” or driving drunk while underage. He must swear—under legal penalties—that he does not—and will never: Engage in premarital sexual intercourse; engage in any sexual conduct other than heterosexual vaginal intercourse intended to result in procreation; place his lips on any sexual organ; allow lips to touch his own sexual organs (except pursuant to medical emergency); masturbate more than four times per calendar year (pursuant to notice and approval by Americans United for Responsible Role Models, with no masturbatory episode to last longer than 15 minutes); drink beer; drink malt liquor; drink wine coolers; smoke cigarettes; smoke pipes; smoke handrolled cigars; lie; cheat; steal; commit fraud; use profanity beyond the words “Darn,” “Shucks,” or “Shoot;” use marijuana or other illegal drugs as set forth in the Code of Federal Regulations or any statute applicable hereto; take the name of the Lord our God in vain; commit fornication or adultery; act inappropriately in any way; make scatological jokes or comments; take excessive enjoyment in life; or speak ill of any obligation or responsibility. If a sports star cannot abide by these restrictions, he is not a decent person, and he does not deserve adulation from Americans.
We have heard enough bad things about our heroes. By implementing our guidelines for decent behavior, we will restore faith in American sports stars. We will no longer hear about drunken binges, cheating, tax evasion, domestic abuse or wild romps. Instead, we will only hear about noble self-sacrifice, good sportsmanship, charity, visits to underprivileged schools, donations to the Children’s Cancer Fund and quiet nights at home with Mom and Dad. Sports stars have a responsibility to be responsible; and we intend to hold them to it.
Sports stars may say that they are only human. They may be unwilling to abide by our guidelines for decent living. They may say that they have a right to live in private and to engage in private activities. We say: “No, you don’t.” When a person becomes a sports star, he becomes a public hero. Just as the Gladiators of Ancient Rome provided excitement and inspiration to the common man, so too must modern American sports stars recognize their inspirational place in the social order. They do not have the same freedoms as everyday Americans. Rather, they owe public duties. If our sports stars do not lead decent lives, who will? We must at least aspire to decency by requiring our most inspirational citizens to lead decent lives. Additionally, we believe that sports stars will not face heavy burdens. After all, sports stars in decades past not only excelled on the field; they were also decent people. Why can’t modern sports stars do the same? Babe Ruth inspired children without engaging in nonprocreative sexual intercourse or “bong-smoking.” Has so much changed in eighty years that modern sports stars cannot be decent people?
We do not think so. We believe that sports stars can be both great athletes and decent people. It is time to return morality and goodness to sports. After all, Americans take refuge from their lives in sports. It is only fitting that their refuge should be a moral place. For too long, sports stars have disappointed the average Americans who believe in them. We must repair the damage. Now, we insist that sports stars not only excel on the field, but also lead moral lives. How else will our children learn decency? Parents can only teach so much; sports heroes carry much more weight. We must remember the children. Let sports stars remember that before they take a steroid injection. Let Barry Bonds say to himself: “If I take this injection, I may hit more home runs. But I will irreparably harm millions of children in the process.” Let Michael Phelps say to himself: “I am having a great time at this party and I really want to take a bong hit. But if I do, I will devastate millions of children all over the world.”
What would a responsible man do in these circumstances? He would choose the responsible path. Americans hear enough bad news. Let our sports stars enlighten our lives, not depress them. To do that, we must force them to be moral. This is about America. And it is about the children.
America needs strong role models. Life is difficult and challenging. Dynamic American heroes give their fellow citizens hope and joy. Even in the darkest times, sports stars, actors and even political figures inspire us with seemingly superhuman exploits. Every morning, countless Americans escape their troubles by thumbing through sports sections, following their favorite players. Every week, countless Americans follow popular television actors and Hollywood personalities. They look up to them as heroes. Celebrities give every American a precious gift: The power to believe in something better than his own miserable lot.
In times past, sports stars occupied a hallowed place in the American mind. Baseball greats such as Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle and Tom Seaver brought joy to millions. They stood apart from the world. They seemed to have superhuman abilities and unimpeachable personalities. They provided a good example for children, and they set a decent standard for the rest of us. They led good, decent lives; they inspired us. They recognized their fame and respected it. They did not engage in behavior that would have tarnished their image for the rest of us. In short, they recognized that their fame brought responsibility. And they responsibly honored their obligations.
But where are the heroes today? Where are the selfless sports stars? Today, sports stars make news for all the wrong reasons. We hear about Barry Bonds and Alex Rodriguez abusing steroids. We hear about Lance Armstrong “doping” to win the Tour de France. And we see photographs showing Olympic great Michael Phelps smoking marijuana from a “bong.” These stars are not just hurting themselves; they are obliterating the hopes and dreams of millions.
Americans need responsible heroes, not cheaters, wife-beaters and stoners. We, Americans United for Responsible Role Models and Good Living, believe that sports stars have a responsibility to be responsible. With fame comes responsibility, and sports stars must recognize that they no longer may live merely for themselves. They must consider the effects their actions will have on the public. At a time when Americans are losing their jobs and homes, belief in superhuman sports achievements is more important than ever. Sports stars have a duty to sustain the fantasies of everyday Americans, and we are determined to protect those fantasies.
In the past, great sports stars did not just excel on the playing field. They were decent people, too. Decent people lead moral lives. One cannot live a moral life if one engages in any form of immorality whatsoever. We propose forbidding sports stars from engaging in immorality. This will enable them to be decent people. For example, it is immoral to smoke marijuana from a “bong.” It sends the wrong message to our children, no matter how successful Michael Phelps may be. It is no defense to say that successful people should get away with things that would land others in hot water. Rather, sports stars must set a higher example. Fame impacts privacy, and we intend to closely monitor sports fans for immorality.
We demand that sports stars remain inspirational. To accomplish that goal, we must ensure that sports stars are decent people. We can do this by compelling major stars—both in sports and entertainment—to sign sworn commitments pledging never to engage in immoral behavior. For example, to be decent, Michael Phelps cannot merely apologize for smoking marijuana from a “bong” or driving drunk while underage. He must swear—under legal penalties—that he does not—and will never: Engage in premarital sexual intercourse; engage in any sexual conduct other than heterosexual vaginal intercourse intended to result in procreation; place his lips on any sexual organ; allow lips to touch his own sexual organs (except pursuant to medical emergency); masturbate more than four times per calendar year (pursuant to notice and approval by Americans United for Responsible Role Models, with no masturbatory episode to last longer than 15 minutes); drink beer; drink malt liquor; drink wine coolers; smoke cigarettes; smoke pipes; smoke handrolled cigars; lie; cheat; steal; commit fraud; use profanity beyond the words “Darn,” “Shucks,” or “Shoot;” use marijuana or other illegal drugs as set forth in the Code of Federal Regulations or any statute applicable hereto; take the name of the Lord our God in vain; commit fornication or adultery; act inappropriately in any way; make scatological jokes or comments; take excessive enjoyment in life; or speak ill of any obligation or responsibility. If a sports star cannot abide by these restrictions, he is not a decent person, and he does not deserve adulation from Americans.
We have heard enough bad things about our heroes. By implementing our guidelines for decent behavior, we will restore faith in American sports stars. We will no longer hear about drunken binges, cheating, tax evasion, domestic abuse or wild romps. Instead, we will only hear about noble self-sacrifice, good sportsmanship, charity, visits to underprivileged schools, donations to the Children’s Cancer Fund and quiet nights at home with Mom and Dad. Sports stars have a responsibility to be responsible; and we intend to hold them to it.
Sports stars may say that they are only human. They may be unwilling to abide by our guidelines for decent living. They may say that they have a right to live in private and to engage in private activities. We say: “No, you don’t.” When a person becomes a sports star, he becomes a public hero. Just as the Gladiators of Ancient Rome provided excitement and inspiration to the common man, so too must modern American sports stars recognize their inspirational place in the social order. They do not have the same freedoms as everyday Americans. Rather, they owe public duties. If our sports stars do not lead decent lives, who will? We must at least aspire to decency by requiring our most inspirational citizens to lead decent lives. Additionally, we believe that sports stars will not face heavy burdens. After all, sports stars in decades past not only excelled on the field; they were also decent people. Why can’t modern sports stars do the same? Babe Ruth inspired children without engaging in nonprocreative sexual intercourse or “bong-smoking.” Has so much changed in eighty years that modern sports stars cannot be decent people?
We do not think so. We believe that sports stars can be both great athletes and decent people. It is time to return morality and goodness to sports. After all, Americans take refuge from their lives in sports. It is only fitting that their refuge should be a moral place. For too long, sports stars have disappointed the average Americans who believe in them. We must repair the damage. Now, we insist that sports stars not only excel on the field, but also lead moral lives. How else will our children learn decency? Parents can only teach so much; sports heroes carry much more weight. We must remember the children. Let sports stars remember that before they take a steroid injection. Let Barry Bonds say to himself: “If I take this injection, I may hit more home runs. But I will irreparably harm millions of children in the process.” Let Michael Phelps say to himself: “I am having a great time at this party and I really want to take a bong hit. But if I do, I will devastate millions of children all over the world.”
What would a responsible man do in these circumstances? He would choose the responsible path. Americans hear enough bad news. Let our sports stars enlighten our lives, not depress them. To do that, we must force them to be moral. This is about America. And it is about the children.
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