Chapter 1

Farrah Fawcett died today at the age of 62.

For those people who (some how or another) don't know who Farrah Fawcett was, she was a television actress in the seventies. Her most public role was in the original Charlie's Angels series as Jill Munroe. More importantly, she spent about twenty five years as a masturbatory aid, hanging, in poster form, on the bedroom walls of our preceding generation. Mrs. Fawcett, being such a large part of so many young men's lives, will surely be missed.

This calls to mind a strange phenominon. We are all guilty, myselft included, of growing attached to people we have never ever met. I, for instance, have developed a liking for Brad Pitt. I can say that I enjoy him as an actor, but that would mostly just be covering my tracks. Really, the way I feel about Brad Pitt mirrors the way I feel about some of the people I went to highschool with. I see Brad Pitt as an old friend, who, if I were to be reunited with, we could share all sorts of inside jokes and tell stories about that time we did that thing at that place with those people, and the subsequent stuff happened.

The obvious reality is that I have never ever met Brad Pitt in my life. I doubt I've even walked on the same ground that Brad Pitt once walked on. I know Brad Pitt so little that the only reason I feel so comfortably referring to him as "Brad Pitt" is because Wikipedia tells me that he is most commonly referred to as such rather than "William," or "Will," or even "Bill". I know nothing about Brad Pitt as a person. All my best representations of who Brad Pitt is come from his movies, and I feel it entirely safe to say that Brad Pitt is not at all who he is represented to be when he is playing Tyler Durden (of Fight Club), or Mr. Smith (of Mr. and Mrs. Smith), or Rusty (of Oceans 11, 12, 13, and (I'm certain) eventually 14). So why do I have such an attachment to Brad Pitt, and as a result, his films?

Yeah. So what's the deal with that?