Why are extraordinarily wealthy and famous people doing their own tweeting?
 You are rich. You are famous. Why are you on the Internet? Because I want to make my voice heard, you say. Because I want to connect directly with my fans. How about you ask Chrissy Teigen how that's been going. Teigen is an extraordinarily famous person who used to spend a lot of time on social media. These days, she can usually be found posting lengthy apologies for things she did when she spent a lot of time on social media. That includes encouraging a then-16-year-old to kill themselves—Courtney Stodden now identifies as non-binary—and driving a fashion designer to thoughts of suicide based on a false allegation of racism. The latter took place in 2014, the same year Chrissy Teigen appeared on the cover of Sports Illustrated's Swimsuit Issue, four years after she first made it to the modeling mountaintop as 2010's "Rookie of the Year." By 2014, she had a burgeoning side career based around her interest in cooking that would soon make her (even more?) fabulously wealthy. She was soon to secure a veritable array of television gigs. Her husband, John Legend, is also not hurting for cash. And John Legend doesn't seem to spend all that much time on Twitter, which seems like the rational course of action. Chef Sean Sherman is about to open a restaurant in Minneapolis that'll ask diners to discuss the decimation of Native American foodways as they feast on cedar-braised bison. Drink the good stuff from a good glass. Join the 4 million men worldwide who trust MANSCAPED™ with 20% Off + Free Shipping. Between sawing the heads off live chickens and shooting scenes out of airplanes, there's a grave lesson at the heart of two new additions to the Bourdain canon. The year has provided some incredible films, many you can stream right now. It's not like Mark and I were close friends. We'd see each other in the dirt parking lot at the town field after the boys' soccer practice, talking as our sons half-jogged over, laughing like sixth graders do, before we got in our cars. When my younger son got sick—real sick—my wife and I would sometimes drop our older boy at Mark and Mary's house in the middle of the night before rushing to the hospital. Mark would quietly wish us luck and smile as he put his hand on my son's shoulder, taking him in. Mark was tall and strong and calm, and he always smiled. |
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