Influencer feels suggestive photos with her father's open casket are a coping mechanism

“Cringefluencer”

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Looks like her adoring fans hitched their wagons to one incredibly weird star.

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Ivanka T probably wouldn’t agree.

Such people have been around for quite awhile. Jackie Kennedy and James Dean, for instance… but without knowing it. There are always followers.

James Dean and Jackie Kennedy were influential as a side effect of their fame and stardom. The “influencer” thing wasn’t the source of their fame or stardom. Being famous for being famous is a more recent innovation.

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They have been, but Jackie Kennedy and James Dean aren’t good examples. It started with Evelyn Nesbit, whose scandalous fame co-incided with a truly national mass media (probably earlier on a smaller, more local scale). Like her, social media “influencers” like this idiot aspire just to be…

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Yeah, I remember that in his travels as a young man Mark Twain / Sam Clemens was fascinated and confused as to why some fairly random woman was so famous and constantly talked about in a town, and the locals couldn’t explain it to him when asked why. Turned out that the local paper was regularly writing little columns about what she was up to because she was somehow related to the editor or something, and “famous for being famous” was enough to keep everyone talking about her.

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Am I the only one who immediately thought of Ivanka and trump?

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Yeah, that takes time. Lots of time. Not the kind of thing that you can do by the time of the funeral.

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No argument since I posted this: Jackie Kennedy and James Dean, for instance… but without knowing it.

And re “famous for being famous”, there was Zsa Zsa Gabor.

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No, Zsa Zsa still had an actual career in pageantry, stage, film and television before becoming a famous Hollywood socialite. She even co-wrote a novel.

The people who build careers as so-called “influencers” on social media rarely have any claim to fame beyond said social media presence.

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Her hair, dress, and attitude all suck. Anyone “influenced” by her should overhaul their cognition.

For several months after my dad died, I drank…a lot. Friday and Saturday (and sometimes Thursday and Sunday), I would go to this bar that has a cocktail whose main selling point is that it is like 30% ABV (they use ultra-distilled vodka; it is really cheap too) and order a double. Then another. Then I would go out to a club and just dance and laugh all night with my friends. To an outside observer, I must have seemed like I was fine. I wasn’t.

There is no right way to mourn, and there is nothing that one can say or do with respect to the dead that will mean anything to that person, because they are dead.

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