The (Internet) fame monster

I read something on the Internet recently from a Nick Hornby book (A Long Way Down, to be precise) that just smacked of truth about pretty much everybody my age who I know. It said: “The trouble with my generation is that we all think we’re (expletive deleted) geniuses. Making something isn’t good enough for us, and neither is selling something, or teaching something, or even just doing something; we have to be something. It’s our inalienable right, as citizens of the 21st century. If Christina Aguilera or Britney or some American Idol jerk can be something, then why can’t I?”

A lot of young folks (myself included) feel that it just isn’t enough to be a good kid who gets good grades and stays out of trouble. It’s not that our parents are telling us to go forth and be famous, it’s just that we see other people our age and younger doing incredible things, and we think to ourselves, “Maybe I can do that, too.”

It’s a double-edged sword. On one hand, it’s a good thing because it encourages self-improvement. It encourages you to find something you’re passionate about and then develop it. But on the other hand, if you’re cursed with a decided lack of self-esteem, it can be debilitating. You find yourself agonizing over the “How comes.” How come this person is getting so many breaks? How come nobody appreciates my efforts?

But if you can refrain from getting yourself bogged down with the negatives, seeing what’s out there can be positively inspiring. Just look at what’s on the Internet.

The World Wide Web (how retro!) has become everyone’s venue for fame. Everybody knows that YouTube has spawned record deals. It’s made dreams come true for young singers like Esmee Denters, who was discovered by Justin Timberlake, and a pair of Filipina sisters who covered their favorite pop tunes for fun and are now recording songs penned by Richard Poon.

Talented young photographers are using the Internet to get their work noticed, and it’s worked phenomenally for a good number of people. I know a girl named Tricia Gosingtian who’s just about to graduate from university and has already shot fashion editorials for major magazines — and styles and models on the side.

Even blogging has been elevated to new heights. When I started blogging in 2001, the Internet was a much quieter place. I wrote for myself and a small audience of very close friends. A far cry from what blogging has become, for me and for others like me, in the latter part of the previous decade — where some of the 3,500-plus people who read my Tumblr blog spot me shopping in malls, or at concerts, or walking down Ongpin Street — and then Tweet me about it. (Does this mean I have to try to look presentable all the time now? Oh, no…)

I never thought that posting a picture a day on the Internet for fun would make me pseudo-famous. It’s surreal, and it’s overwhelming, and I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for truly famous bloggers.

Blogging always required responsibility. I learned that at the age of 13, when I lost a good number of friends because of some teenage angsty whining. But it requires even more responsibility now, because it has essentially become one of many platforms of pseudo-celebrity, and, believe it or not, some of the people who read your blogs do look up to you. You’re not just a blogger anymore. You’re not just “some person” kicking up a fuss on the Internet. You’ve become a personality.

The Internet is a strange, wonderful, terrible place. And there’s a spot somewhere there with your name on it.