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Not all celebrities are dunces.

quote by Carroll O'Connor
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The Dunciad: Book II.

High on a gorgeous seat, that far out-shone
Henley's gilt tub, or Flecknoe's Irish throne,
Or that where on her Curlls the public pours,
All-bounteous, fragrant grains and golden showers,
Great Cibber sate: the proud Parnassian sneer,
The conscious simper, and the jealous leer,
Mix on his look: all eyes direct their rays
On him, and crowds turn coxcombs as they gaze.
His peers shine round him with reflected grace,
New edge their dulness, and new bronze their face.
So from the sun's broad beam, in shallow urns
Heaven's twinkling sparks draw light, and point their horns.

Not with more glee, by hands Pontific crown'd,
With scarlet hats wide-waving circled round,
Rome in her Capitol saw Querno sit,
Throned on seven hills, the Antichrist of wit.

And now the queen, to glad her sons, proclaims
By herald hawkers, high heroic games.
They summon all her race: an endless band
Pours forth, and leaves unpeopled half the land.
A motley mixture! in long wigs, in bags,
In silks, in crapes, in garters, and in rags,
From drawing-rooms, from colleges, from garrets,
On horse, on foot, in hacks, and gilded chariots:
All who true dunces in her cause appear'd,
And all who knew those dunces to reward.

Amid that area wide they took their stand,
Where the tall maypole once o'er-looked the Strand,
But now (so Anne and piety ordain)
A church collects the saints of Drury Lane.

With authors, stationers obey'd the call,
(The field of glory is a field for all).
Glory and gain the industrious tribe provoke;
And gentle Dulness ever loves a joke.
A poet's form she placed before their eyes,
And bade the nimblest racer seize the prize;
No meagre, muse-rid mope, adust and thin,
In a dun night-gown of his own loose skin;
But such a bulk as no twelve bards could raise,
Twelve starveling bards of these degenerate days.
All as a partridge plump, full-fed, and fair,
She form'd this image of well-bodied air;
With pert flat eyes she window'd well its head;
A brain of feathers, and a heart of lead;
And empty words she gave, and sounding strain,
But senseless, lifeless! idol void and vain!

[...] Read more

poem by Alexander Pope
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The Dunciad: Book IV

Yet, yet a moment, one dim ray of light
Indulge, dread Chaos, and eternal Night!
Of darkness visible so much be lent,
As half to show, half veil, the deep intent.
Ye pow'rs! whose mysteries restor'd I sing,
To whom time bears me on his rapid wing,
Suspend a while your force inertly strong,
Then take at once the poet and the song.

Now flam'd the Dog Star's unpropitious ray,
Smote ev'ry brain, and wither'd every bay;
Sick was the sun, the owl forsook his bow'r.
The moon-struck prophet felt the madding hour:
Then rose the seed of Chaos, and of Night,
To blot out order, and extinguish light,
Of dull and venal a new world to mould,
And bring Saturnian days of lead and gold.

She mounts the throne: her head a cloud conceal'd,
In broad effulgence all below reveal'd;
('Tis thus aspiring Dulness ever shines)
Soft on her lap her laureate son reclines.

Beneath her footstool, Science groans in chains,
And Wit dreads exile, penalties, and pains.
There foam'd rebellious Logic , gagg'd and bound,
There, stripp'd, fair Rhet'ric languish'd on the ground;
His blunted arms by Sophistry are borne,
And shameless Billingsgate her robes adorn.
Morality , by her false guardians drawn,
Chicane in furs, and Casuistry in lawn,
Gasps, as they straighten at each end the cord,
And dies, when Dulness gives her page the word.
Mad Mathesis alone was unconfin'd,
Too mad for mere material chains to bind,
Now to pure space lifts her ecstatic stare,
Now running round the circle finds it square.
But held in tenfold bonds the Muses lie,
Watch'd both by Envy's and by Flatt'ry's eye:
There to her heart sad Tragedy addres'd
The dagger wont to pierce the tyrant's breast;
But sober History restrain'd her rage,
And promised vengeance on a barb'rous age.
There sunk Thalia, nerveless, cold, and dead,
Had not her sister Satire held her head:
Nor couldst thou, Chesterfield! a tear refuse,
Thou weptst, and with thee wept each gentle Muse.

When lo! a harlot form soft sliding by,
With mincing step, small voice, and languid eye;

[...] Read more

poem by Alexander Pope
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The Democratic Circus

Found out this morning
Theres a circus coming to town
They drive in cadillacs
Using walkie-talkies, and the secret service
Their big top
Imitation of life
And all the flags and microphones
We have to cover our eyes
We play the sideshows
And we like the tunnel of love
And when we ride the ferris wheel
Were little children again
And when theyre asking for volunteers
Well be the first ones aboard
And when the ringmaster calls our names
Well be the first ones to go ... to sleep
Stealing all our dreams
Dreams for sale
They sell em back to you
On with the show
Start the parade
We sand along
Sweep us away
Its political party time
Going down, going down
And the celebrities all come out
Coming down, coming down, coming...
The sun is going down
And the dogs are starting to howl
We stay out after dark
Eating cotton candy
And the musics playing...
How we all laughed!
We split our sides
The cameras flashed
We almost died!
The rains gonna pour on down, falling out of the sky
Coming down, coming down
And the celebrities all run out, and the rains
Coming down, coming down
Gonna rain,
Gonna rain, gonna rain
Gonna rain, gonna rain,
Rain, rain
Rain, rain
And now I wonder whos boss
And who hes leavin behind?

song performed by Talking Heads
Added by Lucian Velea
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Just because there are celebrities in a movie, it doesn't mean anything. I don't think The Ant Bully did all that well the first week at the box office. Compare the movies that have a lot of celebrities with the Jimmy Neutron movie, which had no celebrity voices and grossed almost one hundred million dollars.

quote by Rob Paulsen
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You're raising a kid and you give it food and shelter and, most importantly, you give it the feeling that it's special. I think people react to celebrities like that - I mean, they treat celebrities like children.

quote by David Duchovny
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Celebrities

Celebrities nowadays,
Are going through an awful phase,
Paris got put in the pen,
Because she drank some wine but then,
She went to get some dinner,
And acted like she was sniffing paint thinner!
Speaking of thinner don't get me started on that,
All the celebs think they're fat,
Soon they'll fall through the cracks in the floor,
Speaking of crack the drug battle never ends,
So they go to rehab where the rules don't bend,
Save the celebrities a whole lot of trouble,
Let them know this will make their careers rubble.

poem by Kaitlyn Leighsomething
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Actors didn't use to be celebrities. A hundred years ago, they put the theaters next to the brothels. Actors were poor. Celebrities used to be kings and queens. Then the United States abolished monarchy, and now there's this coming together of show business and celebrity. I don't think it's healthy. I don't want to sound self-important, but all these celebrity shows and magazines - it comes from us, from Hollywood, from our country. We're the ones creating it. And I think it works in close step with a lot of other bad things that are happening in the world. It promotes greed, it promotes being selfish and it promotes this ladder, where you're a better person if you have more money. It's not at all about the work itself. Don't get me wrong. I love movies. But this myth of celebrity has nothing to do with movies.

quote by Joseph Gordon-Levitt
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Homage To Sextus Propertius - I

Shades of Callimachus, Coan ghosts of Philetas
It is in your grove I would walk,
I who come first from the clear font
Bringing the Grecian orgies into Italy,
and the dance into Italy.
Who hath taught you so subtle a measure,
in what hall have you heard it;
What foot beat out your time-bar,
what water has mellowed your whistles ?

Out-weariers of Apollo will, as we know, continue their
Martian generalities,
We have kept our erasers in order.
A new-fangled chariot follows the flower-hung horses;
A young Muse with young loves clustered about her
ascends with me into the aether, . . .
And there is no high-road to the Muses.

Annalists will continue to record Roman reputations,
Celebrities from the Trans-Caucasus will belaud Roman celebrities
And expound the distentions of Empire,
But for something to read in normal circumstances?
For a few pages brought down from the forked hill unsullied?
I ask a wreath which will not crush my head.
And there is no hurry about it;
I shall have, doubtless, a boom after my funeral,
Seeing that long standing increases all things
regardless of quality.
And who would have known the towers
pulled down by a deal-wood horse;
Or of Achilles withstaying waters by Simois
Or of Hector spattering wheel-rims,
Or of Polydmantus, by Scamander, or Helenas and
Deiphoibos?
Their door-yards would scarcely know them, or Paris.
Small talk O Ilion, and O Troad
twice taken by Oetian gods,
If Homer had not stated your case!

And I also among the later nephews of this city
shall have my dog's day,
With no stone upon my contemptible sepulchre;
My vote coming from the temple of Phoebus in Lycia, at Patara,
And in the mean time my songs will travel,
And the devirginated young ladies will enjoy them
when they have got over the strangeness,
For Orpheus tamed the wild beasts
and held up the Threician river;
And Citharaon shook up the rocks by Thebes
and danced them into a bulwark at his pleasure,

[...] Read more

poem by Ezra Pound
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Undervalued for Friend Leslie Alexis

Some gain fame undeservedly
The spot light of publicity
can transform a nonentity
into a new celebrity.

Like shooting stars across the sky
they brightly glow and quickly die.
They do not last although they try
Because there is no reason why.

They achieved fame in the first place.
They disappear and leave no trace.
Becoming just another face
amongst the teeming human race.

Replaced by some other would be
famous well known celebrity.
Selected by the powers that be
who can control publicity.

What makes me really furious
they have nothing to offer us.
At least nothing that’s serious
They act the fool and make a fuss.

The worship of celebrities
is a modern age disease.
Which fills me with a vague unease
It may be that I’m hard to please.

I must admit that it is true
Perhaps you think the way I do
I’m sure that there are many who
don’t get the recognition due.

Whilst some so called celebrity
receives unearned publicity
The heroes we don’t hear or see
languish in obscurity.

Nobody seems to recognise
the little men the working guys
are worth more than celebrities
who gained their fame by blatant lies.

6-Nov-08

http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Who?

Celebrities, it’s plain to see.
Rely upon publicity,
if they’re not in the public eye.
They have to strive to rectify
the situation which they see
as being ignored completely.
That’s why they pull such stupid tricks
and misbehave like lunatics.
The think the public have to be
impressed by a celebrity
Despite the fact he is a fool
who has done nothing as a rule.
Except to court publicity,
which he must do assiduously
Or disappear from public view.
Nobody cares what happens to
celebrities who used to be.
World famous but no longer are
their place usurped by some new star.
They fade into obscurity,
almost as if they’d never been.
No longer part of the Cool scene.
They’re has beens now, not wannabees
With nothing left but memories.

23-Jul-08

http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Ariel Tiger Woods Play Off

Tiger Woods golf superstar, sex scandal entrepreneur
boasts as winner, of 14 major, golf championships
dominant golf superstar, and sex scandal entrepreneur
allegedly has,14 women, mistress confessionals

but rocker rookie Peterpan, is a less discrete man
boasting to have stroked, more birdies in the hand
his reputation surpasses, Tiger Woods for mistresses
his video proofs run reckless, regardless of consequences

Ariel Peterpan boasts,25 videos, with Indonesian female celebrities
surpassing Tiger Woods, by conquering a harem, of 25 celebrities
Luna Maya and Cut Tari, among videoed conquered, concubine cream
how many women, did Ariel Peterpan not record, falling on his sword?

poem by Terence George Craddock
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When a true genius appears in this world, you may know him by this sign, that the dunces are all in confederacy against him.

Jonathan Swift in Thoughts on Various Subjects
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When a true genius appears, you can know him by this sign: that all the dunces are in a confederacy against him.

quote by Jonathan Swift
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Yeah, I think A Confederacy of Dunces is probably the perfect New Orleans book.

quote by Poppy Z. Brite
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A wit with dunces, and a dunce with wits.

quote by Alexander Pope
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Poesy

Successive bards pursue Ambition's fire
That shines, Oblivion, above thy mire.
The latest mounts his predecessor's trunk,
And sinks his brother ere himself is sunk.
So die ingloriously Fame's _elite_,
But dams of dunces keep the line complete.

poem by Ambrose Bierce
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To A Critic Of Tennyson

Affronting fool, subdue your transient light;
When Wisdom's dull dares Folly to be bright:
If Genius stumble in the path to fame,
'Tis decency in dunces to go lame.

poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Quizz Kid

Cut along the dotted line --- slip in and seal the flap.
Postal competition crazy, though you wear the dunces cap. w
In a fortnight in ibiza --- line up for the big hand out.
Youll never know unless you try --- what winnings all about --- be a quizz kid.
Be a whizz kid.
Six days later theres a rush telegram drop everything and telephone this number if you can.
Its a free trip down to london for a weekend of high life.
Theyll wine you; dine you; undermine you --- better not bring the wife --- be a quizz kid.
Be a whizz kid.
Its a try out for a quizz show that millions watch each week.
Following the fate and fortunes of contestants as they speak.
Answerable to everyone; responsible to all; publicity dissected ---
Brain cells splattered on the walls of encyclopaedic knowledge.
May be barbaric but its fun. as the clock ticks away a lifetime,
Hold your head up to the gun of a million cathode ray tubes aimed at your tiny skull.
May you find sweet inspiration --- may your memory not be dull. may you rise to dizzy success.
May your wit be quick and strong. may you constantly amaze us.
May your answers not be wrong. may your head be on your shoulders.
May your tongue be in your cheek. and most of all we pray that you may come back next week!
Be a quizz kid.
Be a whizz kid.

song performed by Jethro Tull
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Canto the Second

I
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
I pray ye flog them upon all occasions,
It mends their morals, never mind the pain:
The best of mothers and of educations
In Juan's case were but employ'd in vain,
Since, in a way that's rather of the oddest, he
Became divested of his native modesty.

II
Had he but been placed at a public school,
In the third form, or even in the fourth,
His daily task had kept his fancy cool,
At least, had he been nurtured in the north;
Spain may prove an exception to the rule,
But then exceptions always prove its worth -—
A lad of sixteen causing a divorce
Puzzled his tutors very much, of course.

III
I can't say that it puzzles me at all,
If all things be consider'd: first, there was
His lady-mother, mathematical,
A—never mind; his tutor, an old ass;
A pretty woman (that's quite natural,
Or else the thing had hardly come to pass);
A husband rather old, not much in unity
With his young wife—a time, and opportunity.

IV
Well—well, the world must turn upon its axis,
And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails,
And live and die, make love and pay our taxes,
And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails;
The king commands us, and the doctor quacks us,
The priest instructs, and so our life exhales,
A little breath, love, wine, ambition, fame,
Fighting, devotion, dust,—perhaps a name.

V
I said that Juan had been sent to Cadiz -—
A pretty town, I recollect it well -—
'T is there the mart of the colonial trade is
(Or was, before Peru learn'd to rebel),
And such sweet girls—I mean, such graceful ladies,
Their very walk would make your bosom swell;
I can't describe it, though so much it strike,
Nor liken it—I never saw the like:

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poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
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Canto the Eleventh

I
When Bishop Berkeley said "there was no matter,"
And proved it -- 't was no matter what he said:
They say his system 't is in vain to batter,
Too subtle for the airiest human head;
And yet who can believe it? I would shatter
Gladly all matters down to stone or lead,
Or adamant, to find the world a spirit,
And wear my head, denying that I wear it.

II
What a sublime discovery 't was to make the
Universe universal egotism,
That all's ideal -- all ourselves! -- I'll stake the
World (be it what you will) that that's no schism.
Oh Doubt! -- if thou be'st Doubt, for which some take thee;
But which I doubt extremely -- thou sole prism
Of the Truth's rays, spoil not my draught of spirit!
Heaven's brandy, though our brain can hardly bear it.

III
For ever and anon comes Indigestion,
(Not the most "dainty Ariel") and perplexes
Our soarings with another sort of question:
And that which after all my spirit vexes,
Is, that I find no spot where man can rest eye on,
Without confusion of the sorts and sexes,
Of beings, stars, and this unriddled wonder,
The world, which at the worst's a glorious blunder --

IV
If it be chance; or if it be according
To the old text, still better: -- lest it should
Turn out so, we'll say nothing 'gainst the wording,
As several people think such hazards rude.
They're right; our days are too brief for affording
Space to dispute what no one ever could
Decide, and everybody one day will
Know very clearly -- or at least lie still.

V
And therefore will I leave off metaphysical
Discussion, which is neither here nor there:
If I agree that what is, is; then this I call
Being quite perspicuous and extremely fair;
The truth is, I've grown lately rather phthisical:
I don't know what the reason is -- the air
Perhaps; but as I suffer from the shocks
Of illness, I grow much more orthodox.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
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