by Alexander O. Onukwue

Superstardom in America is a two-sided bounty coin. If well invested, you never have to pay for a drink wherever you go, from the least county to the Capitol.

If lost, you’re lost. Forever.

The year is 2017. America, the land of beautiful dreams and TV-influenced culture, but also of serial killers and hateful manipulators, awaits the fate of one of its long-running darlings of comedy, Bill Cosby. Cosby – loved by some as ‘Fat Albert’, by most others as the character-in-chief of the upper middle-class ‘Huxtables’ of Brooklyn – may spend the rest of his life in the dark allies of prison, after spending the better part of the last 79 years bringing smiles to American homes and teaching people to love across colour.

In the same 2017, America may re-admit into its public places one of its old darlings, this time of sports. Orenthal James ‘O.J.’ Simpson is the record-setting badass running back, a legend of the American egg-shaped ball-throwing equivalent of what regular people call Football. O.J. escaped conviction for the murder of his ex-wife Nicole Brown Simpson in 1994. Known as ‘the Juice’, he did not get convicted for what many thought at the time was a clear case, largely because the gloves did not fit, hence, the judge had to acquit. He was, however, charged and convicted of armed robbery and kidnapping in 2009. Sentenced to 33 years in prison without parole for at least 9 years, O.J. is expected to be back sometime soon.

In case you have forgotten what O.J. looks like, have another look at your Kunta Kinte tapes, but that is not the point of this analysis. It is about the rise and ruin of celebrities, the heavy turnaround in fortunes that follows their incredible TV-enabled ascent.

The current trial of Bill Cosby has arguably been the most sensational in American culture since that of O.J. in 1995. It has not had a Police chase on live TV and there have been no courtroom theatrics with gloves, but it has seen the familiar threads that come with celebrity trials in the United States. It has been denied the compulsive TV coverage O.J. had, having to vie for airtime in the Age of Trump. However, it is being described as the Criminal trial of the Age of Twitter, with the permission granted by the Trial Judge for live-tweeting from the courtroom on Monday, June 12 adding to the razzmatazz and perhaps, to make sure history remembers it as one which trended.

The jury for Cosby’s case has taken four times the period it took for the verdict on O.J.’s case. Like O.J., Cosby’s many repeated cases of prior improper conducts towards ‘victims’ put his case in a very bad light. Despite the unflinching support of his family, including his wife of over five decades Camille, he is no longer America’s Dad. To many, he is now Cosby, the pill-slipping, funny, fiendish father-figure who traded friendliness for fiddling with the favourite parts of fine girls. He admitted, at least, to the pill part; the estimation of the fiend in him may not be diminished much regardless of the verdict when it eventually comes.

It comes as a warning to aspiring stars of the big screen, in America and even in Nigeria; you become seen by all, and as well screened to your very last private bad habit. The Nigeria part may not be so evident, with the Criminal Justice system yet to resolve its purpose of existence, but budding Instagram celebrities may want to take note all the same (this isn’t about THE Challenge). The moral of the story is that the platform of mass media, and now social media, invented for disseminating information and positive connections, should best be used for just that purpose. Any fame accruing there from must be considered accidental and secondary. It should absolutely not be used to tap into the vulnerability of young, perhaps naïve, unsuspecting admirers.

Today, you are the hero, but about tomorrow? What will happen when everyone learns what you did to her or him after the show?

Editor