There’s a point when others’ crushes on minor celebrities grate on me. They shouldn’t, because people are entitled to like what they want to like, and, more importantly, Mr. Dan Grumpy can go fuck himself for being the jealous bastard he’s always been. But I get so damned tired of hearing how so and so minor talent is the smartest, bravest, prettiest, wisest, and most talented being what ever lived. I think I just hate seeing people submerge their own selves so they can bask in the glow and proclaim the majesty of Mr. or Ms. Slightly Better. I’ve done it myself, but gradually, as with all the groups, religions, philosophies, and so forth that I’ve dabbled in, I didn’t like how small I was becoming for the greater glory of someone or thing else.