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The relevance of this question both escapes and troubles me. The true question to be posed pertains more to the pathetic reasons the average person is obsessed with the trials and tribulations of complete strangers, while neglecting to connect on a deeper level with their own family members. Some of us have allowed our individual lives to become so predictable and mundane, that we seek pseudo-relationships outside our own parameters. It is somehow soothing or comforting to know that another, who obviously has everything but nothing, is suffering like us, or better yet, worse than us. I know people who can give a blow by blow description of a celebrity and their misery, details of their lives, terms of their marriages, biographic backgrounds of their families, etc., but not know what their spouses did all day. The significance missing in their own tragic lives is substituted with the inundation of fact/fiction borrowed from the lives of others. It has become easier and easier to form superficial relationships with those close to us, and to learn intimate details of someone who is clueless to our very existence. With the internet, television, and print media daring to delve farther and farther into the celebrity privacy hole, and the critical familial relationships bearing more strain than ever, it is no wonder that stories about a stranger somehow satisfy our need to connect. Empathy, sympathy, anger, laughter are shared anonomously and somehow fill the emotional void suffered by many. If the press can somehow manage to masterfully manipulate the sense of touch, the relationships will be sealed. The Press is simply the conduit for the Love Connection.

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