 |
So then there’s Fly Ashtray. I guess there
aren’t many contrasts sharper between two things than the resolution-shift
between shiny Mariah Carey and grainy James Kavoussi, Fly Ashtray’s
driving force. One’s so famous that even when she goes down in
flames, there’s an amount of money too large for most of us to
really comprehend waiting for her when she hits bottom; the other’s
so not-famous that if you were to stop reading right now, there’s
a fair chance that you’d never hear his name again so long as
you lived. And I wouldn’t usually make a big deal about fame
or the lack of it, either, except that Fly Ashtray’s ethos is
largely grounded in a quiet resistance to the very notions of fame
that kept Mariah Carey bankable for almost a decade; which notions
of fame can see no use for her now, since she’s hardly worth
a lousy twenty-eight million.
|
 |
 |
