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There's a perhaps inexorable Manhattan process in which critics get assimilated by the world they criticize. Is this what happened to Vanity Fair editor Graydon Carter? A former writer for Spy magazine explains one theory: The Dinner Party Syndrome.

I used to write for Spy, which was dedicated to celebrity bashing, but it seems that since Mr. Carter has taken a giant step in the opposite direction. This doesn't surprise me, because it fits into my theory about fame and motivation. It goes like this...

Some people are driven to become famous, often to fill the large gap where talent might reside. Or, like Madonna, they do have some talent, it just doesn't fit into the category for which they become famous. Other people are more interested in peripheral fame. While they may in their celebrity-enabler capacity become famous themselves, in fact, they'd rather be popular than famous. And God knows genuine celebs don't really want or need the competition.

Such people often have jobs like editor, publicist, film or tv producer and the like. The interesting thing is that while these people are on the way up, they remain vital, maybe even culturally important, like Jann Wenner and Lorne Michaels (two primo examples), but as soon as they start hobnobbing with the people they aspire to hobnob with everywhere from dinner parties to resort towns, the innovation gig is up. They have achieved their real goal and become too rich, pampered and sloppy to be relevant anymore. Look, if it could happen to Truman Capote, who was an artist himself, anyone is susceptible.