I have figured out the perfect job for myself. Part life coach, part nag, it would be my role to tell folks in public life when they have left this plane of existence behind and slipped into that dank existential dungeon where intellects are unfettered by the bonds of rationality. Yes, it would be my job to say, “This doesn’t make a damned bit of sense.”
Politicians, actors, rock stars - the world is full of potential clients.
I was thinking about my fantasy job this week as I read various reports of Madonna, who is making sure that none of her “Material Girl” stuff is left behind as she exits dressing rooms. A special team evidently worked to make sure that none of her DNA was left behind in dressing her rooms during a recent world tour.
Okay, this is Madonna, who reportedly required “journalists” interviewing her to maintain eye contact at all times, and to have their questions memorized, and, oh yeah, here’s a list of what you can’t ask.
You’d gotta figure that would be an interview that wouldn’t be worth trying to get, but I figure some did; she’s so newsworthy, and all.
But the DNA business has me intrigued, what with reports of “sterilization teams” - Holy CIA, Batman! - which skillfully remove any and all traces that she may have left in a dressing room before anyone else is allowed in.
Maybe she is terrified that a lock of her hair might end up online?
But is there a more insidious reason?
What do they do with all this stuff they have swept up, and vacuumed out of the Madonna Cave each time she uses it, never to return? Incinerate it?
Or, and just work with me here, Tabescent Reader, what if Madonna is collecting it all, and handing it over to yet another team of specialists with the instructions:
“Make a new Me! Make a whole bunch of Me!”
The Madonna clones could be kept in cold storage until they are needed, like for spare body parts, or an extra head, in case she suddenly gets wildly paranoid about plastic sturgeons. Not that Madonna would get paranoid about anything . . .
Maybe one could go on tour, so the original could stay at home and catch up on eating Toblerones and drinking milk shakes all day, just tottering out on occasion to check on the progress of her various teams.
Or, should her megalomania reach unchecked levels (after all, I’m not she has anyone like me working for her yet), her Madonnabots could be sent out into the world on all sorts of nefarious missions.
Yes, I know - as a life-long reader of science fiction I know there is a world of difference between clones and Madonnabots.
But does Madonna?
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Quote of the Day
There’s no secret about success. Did you ever know a successful man who didn’t tell you about it? - Kin Hubbard
rsdrake@cox.net