ABSTRACT
Marcus Aurelius may never have heard of popular culture but he summed up its chief dilemma in a few words. The congregation of the Cotton Baptist Church stormed the house en masse. Local florists ran out of Jessica wreaths. The hospital where Jessica was resting was inundated with balloons, money trees, prayer rugs, and stuffed animals. A tough Texas roustabout, covered with Texas crude, appeared on national television to admit he had cried. The post office sought guidance on how to handle mountains of incoming mail. Popularity comes and goes like a meteor in the sky, a thief in the night. Fads and fancies dance to their own rhythm. They can no more be explained than sudden changes in the weather or clothing styles and pop tunes. Collective insecurity joins hands with competitive hysteria, and the cycle takes over: from alarm to concern to frenzy to boredom. .
