Fame is a funny thing. Andy Warhol said that everyone has fifteen minutes of it, although he enjoyed fame for considerably longer after painting a can of soup. Many people have enjoyed fame in the last hundred years or so and, to be fair, most of them have lived to tell the tale. The media has engaged in an ever more intense love affair with fame, not to celebrate the lives of those who have enjoyed it; more to feed off those it has destroyed. Bad news is good news it seems, with drunken antics, premature death and broken relationships selling far more copy than happy families and hard work. Consequently, fame looks, to those of us that have not benefitted from it, like a minefield that only the cautious or lucky are able to cross.

Since the arrival of moving pictures, the entertainment and media industries have worked hand in hand to feed us an endless diet of gossip surrounding the stars that they have both created. While most successful entertainers drift into happy retirement, those infamous enough to be denied this happy ending tend to be better remembered. Actors such as John Barrymore, Errol Flynn and Robert Walker were sadly as famous for their drinking as they were for their acting. Hank Williams was also destined to walk that road. Many people remember the 1960’s for the untimely demise of Jones, Hendrix, Joplin and Morrison, rather than for the great music that they and they’re generation produced. Over the years, the media has increasingly engaged in the practice of creating celebrities, only to destroy them in the name of investigative journalism on a slow news day.

This week, the media were kept busy with the annual BRIT awards, one of the most important measures of success in the UK music industry. The elated winners were all over the tabloids the following day, and woke up to the reality that nothing will ever be the same. Today they love you, tomorrow, you are fair game. Noticeably absent from the proceedings was Robbie Williams, who did not even receive a nomination; probably because nobody liked his last album. He was sorting out a little problem involving prescription drugs while his former band, Take That, walked away with the Best Single Award. Robbie has been showered with these awards in the past and the press were not shy to remind us of this. Some people, most people in fact, cope well with fame and have strong emotional and other support around them to keep them sane. Robbie is clearly lacking in the support that he needs, leaving him at the mercy of unsuitable alternatives. And the media knows it.

Another absentee was Britney Spears, who has also been less than successful in the music arena over the past year. A broken marriage and some heavy duty partying have meant that she should have been embracing rehabilitation while some of the nominees were into celebration. She decided against this idea last Friday and checked out. Instead, she visited her favorite hairdresser and shaved her own head with a pair of electric clippers. She is either auditioning for the lead in a film about the life of Sinead O’Connor, or she’s lost it. I suspect the latter. Poor Britney is a prime example of a child who has been deprived of her childhood and is desperately trying to get it back. Sorry Britney, Skunk Anisee are not looking for a new lead singer and there are no plans to bring back Kojak. Joking aside, she is young and resilient, not without talent and her hair will grow back. It is just tragic that a young girl of that age can end up so messed up; thank goodness it was only her hair that she cut.

Another lamb for the slaughter emerged this weekend in the shape of Big Brother winner, Shilpa Shetty. After elevating her to the level of an abused martyr, it was only a matter of time before the press demanded their pound of flesh. "The Real Shilpa Story" in one of Saturday’s tabloids told of spending sprees, family mafia connections and affairs with married men. Welcome to the UK, Shilpa; where, believe me, racism will be the least of your worries.

Kurt Cobain is probably the ultimate example of a man destroyed by fame. As leader of Nirvana, he claimed never to have wanted fame, though others beg to differ. Nevertheless, despite owning a mansion worth $1.4million, he spent much of his time in cheap motels taking heroin and sleeping. He was called the King of Grunge, but Elvis was called the King of Rock and Michael Jackson calls himself the King of Pop. Such titles carry responsibilities that most of us would find hard to bear. So what can we conclude from all this. The truth is that some people can cope with fame and some cannot. Many of the people mentioned in this article who are still with us may well overcome they’re current setbacks to emerge stronger than ever. Britney Spears probably will, and I sincerely hope she does, just so she can get back at me for trying to earn a cheap laugh at her expense. It’s a tough world out there, Britney, but you already know that. You are not the first victim of too much too soon, and you certainly will not be the last; so, come on, hit me baby one more time and show us all what you’re made of. Let’s have a happy ending to this one. In the meantime, this is a cry for help from her; is anyone listening?