Certain things start to make sense when you learn that notorious East Village gay party promoter Daniel Nardicio is the one behind the Levi Johnston Playgirl photospread. Also it's fun and enlightening to learn that there's actually no contract yet signed between the... person? Persona? Construct? .... from Alaska and the magazine that doesn't actually exist, since Playgirl hasn't actually been a magazine for a while. THIS IS LIKE THAT BAUDRILLARD BOOK THAT ONE TIME.
Well. . .maybe there'll turn up to be one or two other Things that'll be, shall we say, not what they seem, as well.
He's really circumventing the traditional narrative arc of the typical tabloid 15min celeb.
(See: Prejean, Carrie et al.)
As far as I know, Playgirl.com was never related to the magazine. Your assuming that it is or was makes a great case for considering it a simulacrum: you interpreted a "false" symbol as pointing to a "real" thing.
What would be the reality beneath the simulacrum "Levi Johnston"? Or, what does the "Levi Johnston" sign point to? It the referent a "real" person we can never know? In that case, all celebrities are simulacra. This is not an unappealing idea.
*HUGS*
Assuming that Moby is correct and that we are all, indeed made of stars, then apparently we are all simulacra-composed.
Related?
Click clack, cock back, semi automatic track.
Drink a lot of similac, shorty betta fall back.
Finally?
Daniel is an old friend (older than me!) and his Barnum-esque qualities are merely part of the charm.
Daniel throws one hell of a party. I think it was one of his bartenders got my pants off right there in the bar. Stop making me miss New York.
The nation waits breathlessly for the appearance of little Levi. Isn't this sort of more like Beckett or Kafka?
I hate to be all nitpicky, but isn't "Simulacra" the singular, and "Simulacrum" the plural?
Oops, no, I'm an insufferable retard. You're right.
Read the Philip K. Dick book, one of my faves!
Now that's what I call the Ecstasy of Communication!
(Volume XXX, naturally)