Of course, she’s not going away.
That’s what so many people have wished for Monica Lewinsky this week — out of a mix of sympathy, distaste, or both — now that she’s thrown herself back into our consciousness with an essay in Vanity Fair.
Why now? Conspiracy theories abound. But the stated reason is that Lewinsky needs a job, and sees a cause: to be the poster child for the perils of online fame. She compares her ’90s shaming in the Drudge Report to the torment kids endure today on Facebook. She calls herself “possibly the first person whose global humiliation was driven by the Internet.”
But she’s wrong. She wasn’t the first victim of the Internet age. She was the first reality star.
That concept didn’t exist when Monica met Bill in the corridors outside the Oval Office. There was no “Survivor,” no “Real Housewives’’ or “Dance Moms’’ or “Jersey Shore,’’ no camera crews trailing various Kardashians, helping them spin long careers out of sex tapes and marital squabbles.
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