Living in NYC (for 2 weeks now. Which obviously makes me a knowledgable wealth of NYC-based wisdom), I truly realize just how relative "fame" can be.
Not only do you essentially create your own fame (because, as I learned from The B in Apartment 23- which I watch now, because suddenly I only like shows about people struggling in NYC - "New York is not about what you do, it's about how you do it"),
but the idea of "Fame" is so . . .
Ephemeral, if you (English majors) will.
My favorite blogger is somebody else's nobody.
My nobody is somebody else's celebrity kryptonite.
And even when celebrity is present-
if you're really a "New Yorker" (whatever that means), it's safe to say that you won't acknowledge it for risk of appearing, in some shape or form, lesser.
Which I dig.
Because, in the end,
we're all just smirking idiots with half-braids and bandanas tied around our necks,
Read The Isthmus article by Dylan Brogan online, HERE