Welcome back to another deep dive. We are so
glad you're here with us. It's good to be back.
Usually when we sit down to do this, we are wrestling
with, you know, a massive stack of papers. Oh,
yeah. Research journals, opinion pieces. Maybe
a dense nonfiction book or two about, I don't
know, the global economy or the history of salt.
Take all that complexity and try to distill it.
Right, into something you can actually use. But
today... Today is a little different. A lot different.
Today, our source material isn't a library. It's
a single word. One word. Four letters. Fame.
That's it. That is the entire scope of our mission
today. It sounds simple. It does. But before
you think we're just going to talk about celebrities
and red carpets for an hour, I need you to look
at the document we're actually analyzing. We're
doing a deep dive into a disambiguation page.
And for those who don't spend their lives, you
know... navigating information architecture.
What exactly is that? A disambiguation page is
a fascinating corner of the internet. It's essentially
a traffic cop for the English language. A traffic
cop. I like that. It's the place you end up when
a word has become so overloaded, so heavy with
different meanings and contexts that the dictionary
just throws its hands up and says. Okay, you
typed in fame, but which one did you mean? Exactly.
Did you mean the David Bowie song? Did you mean
the chemical compound? Or the tiny town in Mississippi?
It's like an archaeological dig site for culture.
That's a great way to put it. You peel back the
layers of this one word and you find these wildly
different artifacts just buried next to each
other. By the end of this hour, we are going
to connect Lady Gaga to renewable energy. And
we are going to draw a line between... A magic
club for teenagers and a canceled NASA satellite.
I can't wait for that part. And that is the mission,
really. We want to categorize and understand
the different flavors of fame found in this source
material. The flavors of fame. Because when you
look at the list as a whole, it stops being just
a word and starts looking like. Like a map of
human aspiration. Okay, so let's start at the
very top. Where do we begin? The source gives
us a definition to anchor us. It does. It says,
fame usually refers to the state of notability
or celebrity. Okay, that's the baseline. Simple
enough. That is what you expect. It's the condition
of being known. But immediately, and I love that
this is the very first thing the source does,
it points us to the etymology. Right, there's
a see also link for theme. Theme. p -h -e -m
-e so this isn't just a spelling variation this
is the root this is the origin story it is it
is the greek personification of fame and renown
but theme wasn't just a goddess of you know being
popular she was the personification of rumor
of report of gossip she was the messenger of
zeus oh okay if something happened theme was
the force that carried the news it's a reminder
that at its core fame isn't about being talented
or being rich it's about being spoken of exactly
it's about being a signal in the noise and as
we go through this list i want you to keep that
in mind Whether we're talking about a ship or
a hip hop album. These are all just modern vessels
for that ancient idea. There are things that
want to be spoken of. And looking at our outline,
the biggest, loudest, most leg warmer wearing
vessel on this list is the franchise. The Fame
franchise. You absolutely cannot discuss this
word in the context of the 20th century without
anchoring it in the 1980 American musical film,
Fame. It's the Big Bang. The source lists it
so simply. Fame. 1980 film, an American musical.
But that description feels, I don't know, so
dry for a movie that was so sweaty. It was incredibly
sweaty. And gritty. Right. Directed by Alan Parker,
this wasn't The Sound of Music. It was set in
the High School of Performing Arts in New York
City, and it dealt with heavy themes. Like what?
Literacy struggles, abortion, sexual exploitation.
It was pretty raw for a musical. But it gave
us a thesis statement for the modern era of celebrity,
didn't it? It did. Remember the quote from the
dance teacher, Lydia Grant? You want fame? Well,
fame costs. And right here is where you start
paying. Yeah. In sweat. That line is iconic.
It shifted the cultural perception of fame. How
so? Before this, fame was often portrayed as
this magical thing that just happened to you.
You were discovered at a soda fountain, that
kind of thing. Right, the old Hollywood myth.
But fame, the movie. Made it transactional. It
made it a job. You pay for it in sweat. And that
message really, really resonated. Oh, absolutely.
The source material shows us that this single
film sparked a massive chain reaction. It wasn't
just a standalone piece of art. It was a franchise
in the truest sense. Exactly. Immediately following
the film, the source lists the famed TV series.
Running from 1982 to 1987. That's a five -year
run. That's pretty significant. It is. And this
is where the brand of fame really solidified.
But the tone shifted, didn't it? Completely.
The movie was R -rated, right? It was. The TV
show was on network television in the mid -80s.
They had to scrub away all that grit we were
talking about. So it became lighter. Much lighter.
More about the camaraderie of the students. It
became family -friendly. And that's important,
I guess, because it allowed the concept of fame
to enter living rooms everywhere. Right. It wasn't
a cautionary tale anymore. It was a weekly celebration
of talent and hard work. And the expansion didn't
stop at the screen. What came next? The Source
Lists fame musical, The Stage Show, which premiered
in 1988. So let's get this timeline straight.
You have the movie in 80. The TV show starting
in 82. And The Stage Musical in 88. Wow. They
squeezed every possible dollar out of that IP
in the 1980s. It's a perfect example of transmedia
storytelling before we even had a term for it.
But then looking at the timeline, it goes quiet
for a bit. It does. The 90s happen. Grunge happens.
The shiny optimism of fame kind of falls out
of fashion. Until 2009. Until 2009. The remake.
The sourceless fame 2009 film. And it's explicitly
described as a remake of a musical film. It didn't
quite hit the same way, did it? I feel like it
came and went. It didn't. Not at all. And I think
that speaks to how the definition of the word
itself had changed in the, what, the intervening
30 years? What do you mean? Well, in 1980, the
idea of a school dedicated to performing arts
was kind of exotic to the mainstream. Right.
A special, unique place. By 2009, we were living
in a post -American idol world. We had YouTube.
The idea of kids wanting to be famous wasn't
a story anymore. It was just the default setting
of reality. Exactly. The premise wasn't special
anymore. Which brings us to what I think is the
most fascinating pivot on this list. I know what
you're going to say. The source lists a 2003
TV series called Fame. But this wasn't a drama.
It wasn't actors pretending to be students. No.
It was a reality show. A talent competition.
That is the moment the snake ate its own tail.
It really is. We went from a fictional representation
of people seeking fame to a reality show where
people actually sought fame using the brand name
of the fiction. It's a meta commentary on the
culture, isn't it? The fiction became the reality.
And there's another one, too. The Irish version.
The source also notes fame. The musical Irish
TV series, which was another reality search.
For actors to be in the stage show. So you have
a reality show looking for actors to play fictional
characters who want to be famous. The layers
are just dizzying. It's unbelievable. But okay,
before we leave the screen, we have to acknowledge
that the 1980s didn't invent the word. No, not
by a long shot. The source includes a vintage
entry. Fame, 1936 film. A British comedy. And
that genre tag comedy. is telling how so in the
30s particularly in british cinema the pursuit
of fame was often played for laughs it was seen
as a bit pompous you know a bit ridiculous not
the life or death struggle we saw in the 1980
version not at all it shows that our modern reverence
for this concept is a relatively recent invention
and speaking of mocking the concept we have ricky
gervais yes the source lists fame 2007 film which
was a stand -up tour and dvd her vase is the
perfect counterweight to the musical isn't he
he is his entire career is built on deconstructing
the ego of celebrity so for him to name a tour
fame It's an act of irony. He's putting the word
in scare quotes. He's saying, look at how ridiculous
this all is. So on this one list, you have the
earnest, sweaty striving of the musical. And
the cynical, laughing deconstruction of the comedian.
Two sides of the same coin. Now, I want to move
to a pattern the source reveals about television.
Specifically, episode titles. Ah, yes. It seems
like fame is just a magnet for writers. If you
have a show, eventually you write an episode
called Fame. It's a universal trope. It's a shorthand
for a certain kind of story. What kind of story?
Well, the source lists a 2006 episode of Law
& Order. It lists a 2010 episode of NCIS. Los
Angeles. The procedural dramas. Exactly. And
in those contexts, fame usually equals danger.
It's the motive for a murder or it's a celebrity
stalker story. So it frames fame as a threat.
A threat or a corruption. Something that brings
out the worst in people. But then you have the
entry that made you laugh out loud when we were
prepping. Kokoio. The children's animated series.
I just love seeing it on the list. You have Law
& Order, NCIS, and then... Pocoyo, fame, an episode
of the TV series Pocoyo. It seems like an anomaly,
right? It does. But think about it. Pocoyo is
about early childhood development. It's about
social dynamics for toddlers. And even at that
age, the concept of being the center of attention
is hugely relevant. Who is looking at me? Why
are they looking at him and not me? Huh. I never
thought of it that way. Fame isn't just a Hollywood
industry. It's a fundamental human social dynamic.
Whether you are a detective in L .A. or a toddler
in a blue outfit, you have to deal with the consequences
of renown. That is a surprisingly deep take on
a toddler show. But I'm here for it. It all connects.
So we've looked at the screen. But if the 1980
movie is the visual anchor of this word, the
auditory anchor has to be the music. Oh, for
sure. The Sound of Fame section in our source
is massive. Music and fame are inextricably linked.
And we have to start with the 1975 entry. The
song Fame. by David Bowie. A masterpiece. And
the source makes a point of listing the writers,
which is key. David Bowie, Carlos Alomar, and
John Lennon. It's the holy trinity of 70s rock
cool, but the context here is crucial. This song
was released in 1975. Five years before the movie
fame. Exactly. And the tone is completely different.
It's dark, it's funky, but it's an angry song.
It is pure venom. Bowie was in the middle of
a messy management dispute. He was arguably the
most famous rock star on the planet at that moment.
And he hated it. And the lyrics show it. Absolutely.
Fame makes a man take things over. Fame puts
you there where things are hollow. It's an attack
on the parasites, the managers, the emptiness
of it all. And having John Lennon on backing
vocals, a man who is literally trapped by his
own fame. Yeah. That just adds this incredible
weight to it. Exactly. So in 1975, the definition
of fame in pop culture was cynical. It was a
trap. But then, just five years later... We get
the song Fame by Irene Cara from the movie. And
the source knows it won the Academy Award for
Best Original Song. A huge deal. I'm going to
live forever. I'm going to learn how to fly.
It is the polar opposite of the Bowie song. It's
an anthem of pure, unadulterated optimism. It's
joyful. It's energetic. So within a five -year
window, the word fame meant two completely different
things on the radio. Completely. It was a curse
for Bowie and a blessing for Irene Cara. But
the music section doesn't stop in the 80s. And
this is where the disambiguation page becomes
a timeline of style. I noticed a shift in how
the word is actually written. You mean the acronyms?
The dots. All the periods. The source lists a
song by Young Jeezy called F .A .M .E. And Chris
Brown's album F .A .M .E. from 2011. And Maluma's
album F .A .M .E. from 2018. What's that about?
This is a distinct modern trend, particularly
in hip -hop and Latin pop. It seems that simply
calling your album fame feels a bit... or maybe
too generic now. So by turning it into an acronym,
you add a layer of code. You make it personal.
For Chris Brown, I think it stood for forgiving
all my enemies and fans are my everything. Right.
So he's taking the word fame, which carries all
that baggage we just talked about, and he's redefining
it on his own terms. He's reclaiming the narrative.
It's not just being known. It's a specific philosophy
he's outlining. And the list shows this trend
is still going. We have a 2020 song, F -A -M
-E, by Hooligan Hefs. Australian drill music
featuring Hooks, Hooligan Skinny, and Massey
Rook, which just shows the global reach of the
concept. And we have a song, Fame, by B .O .B.
We have a song, Fame by Cypher, from their 2022
EP, The Code. And this is one of my favorite
things about using a live source like this. We
have a future entry. I saw that. The source lists
Fame, Rise song from a 2025 single album. Rise
is a K -pop group. So this is still happening.
It tells us that even in 2025, on the other side
of the world, from that 1980 New York film set,
artists are still looking at this four -letter
English word and saying, yes, that is the title.
That is the energy we want. It is remarkably
durable. It is. And we can't talk about durability
without talking about the albums. We've mentioned
Chris Brown and Maluma. But there is one entry
that feels like the definitive modern usage.
It has to be Lady Gaga, The Fame. Her 2008 debut
album. Talk about truth in advertising. Right.
She called her debut album The Fame, and then
she became arguably the most famous woman on
Earth. It was a manifesto. Gaga approached fame
as a sociologist. She studied it. She treated
her own celebrity as performance art. She famously
said she felt famous before anyone knew who she
was. Right. By naming the album The Fame, she
was casting a spell. She was inviting it in,
manifesting it. It's almost like she looked at
the cynical Bowie song and said, I know it's
toxic and I'm going to wear that toxicity like
a dress. Precisely. And the source also points
out a precursor to her, someone who did something
similar. Grace Jones, her 1978 album Fame. Grace
Jones and Lady Gaga. that tracks it does both
are avant -garde both are fashion icons both
play with the idea of what a star looks like
and acts like they use the word fame not just
as a title but as a challenge to the audience
okay before we move on i have to shout out the
bands there's a duo just called fame there's
a thai band called fame but the one that stands
out to you is the person it is georgie fame Clive
Powell, born in 1943, an English R &B and jazz
musician. He didn't write a song called Fame.
He didn't release an album called Fame. He changed
his name to Fame. It's the ultimate commitment.
In the early 60s, managers often gave their artists
these flashy names. Billy Fury, Marty Wild. And
Clive Powell became Georgie Fame. He literally
adopted the concept as his identity. And he's
still performing. He has lived as Fame. for over
60 years. That's incredible. Okay, so we've done
the red carpet, we've done the charts, we've
covered what people expect when they hear this
word. Now? Now we are going to pivot. We are
going to leave the studio and enter the laboratory.
This is the section of the source material that
deals with acronyms, but not the Chris Brown
kind. These are the functional, nerdy, hidden
acronyms. This is my favorite part, because when
you strip away the glitter, F -A -M -E is just
four letters. And scientists love an acronym.
They certainly do. The first one on the list
is fatty acid methyl esters. Fatty acid methyl
esters. Fame. I just love the image of a serious
chemist in a white coat saying, I need to analyze
this fame. And they're holding a beaker of sludge.
It's not quite sludge. What is it exactly? It's
actually very, very important. Fame is the primary
component of biodiesel. Biodiesel. So fuel. Yes.
If you take vegetable oil or animal fats and
you want to run a diesel engine on them, you
have to change their chemical structure so they
don't clog the engine. You put them through a
process called transesterification. The result
is fatty acid methyl esters. Fame. So while Lady
Gaga is singing about the fame, there are trucks
driving down the highway literally powered by
fame. It's a great juxtaposition. One is ephemeral
and social. The other is industrial and combustible.
And that's not its only use, right? No, it's
also used to analyze the purity of olive oil.
If you want to know if your extra virgin olive
oil is real, you check the FAME profile. From
olive oil to Wall Street, the source lists FAME
database. Forecasting Analysis and Modeling Environment.
What does that do? It's a database management
system and a programming language. It's used
primarily in the financial and energy sectors
to handle time series data. Time series data?
What's that? Imagine you need to track the price
of oil every minute for 20 years. That's a lot
of data points, all in a specific order. FAME
is the tool you use to store and model that.
So again, totally utilitarian. It's about prediction
and analysis, not popularity. Not at all. But
then we have an acronym that breaks my heart
a little bit. The Space Sentry. Ah, yes. The
Full Sky Astrometric Mapping Explorer. That is
such a majestic name. The Full Sky Astrometric
Mapping Explorer. Fame. It was a NASA mission.
The goal was astrometry, which is measuring the
positions and movements of stars with incredible
precision. So they were making a map. The best
map ever. They wanted to map 40 million stars.
They wanted to create a map of our corner of
the galaxy that was more accurate than anything
in history. And what happened? The source notes
it was canceled in 2002. Why? Budget constraints.
It's poetic, in a sad way. A satellite named
Fame that never made it to the launch pad. It
wanted to see everything, to map the heavens,
but it got grounded. It's a what -if of space
history. It fits the theme, though. Fame is often
elusive. Even for satellites. Now, from the tragic
to the absolutely delightful, let's talk about
the organizations. Specifically, the one for
the kids. You must mean the future American magical
entertainers. Yes. F -A -M -E. Future American
Magical Entertainers. A former magic club for
young magicians. It's so charming. Just picture
it. A basement or a community center somewhere.
A group of teenagers with decks of cards and
silk handkerchiefs practicing their sleight of
hand. And calling themselves fame. It's a bit
on the nose. It is, but look at the first word.
Future. It speaks to that aspiration again. Right.
They aren't famous yet. They are the future entertainers.
They are practicing the art of illusion to get
there. It's very literal. Show business is magic,
and they are learning the tricks. The list of
organizations really shows how everyone wants
a piece of this acronym. We have Fashion Malawi
Edition. Which is a development organization
in Malawi using the acronym to promote African
fashion design, bringing the concept to a completely
different geography and context. And we have
the Federation of Archaeological Managers and
Employers. Founded in 1975. I love the date.
1975, that's the same year Bowie released his
song. So while Bowie was singing about the hollowness
of fame. A group of British archaeologists were
sitting in a room deciding to call their union
fame. The disconnect is wonderful. Welcome to
the meeting of fame. Agenda item one, dirt removal.
It just highlights the utility of the acronym.
You have federation, archaeological, managers,
employers. If you string them together, you get
a pronounceable word. It's branding. Exactly.
Even for archaeologists, having a catchy acronym
confers a sense of legitimacy and importance.
And that applies to sports too, right? Falk Associates
Management Enterprises. Founded by David Falk
in 1992, he was a titan of the industry. He was
Michael Jordan's agent. If anyone understood
the value of fame, it was him. So naming his
company Fame was a power move. It's an assertion
of dominance in his field. We should acknowledge
the source also lists the fans of adult media
and entertainment awards. Which fits the pattern
perfectly. Adult media and entertainment, even
in that industry, perhaps especially in that
industry, there's a desire for awards, for recognition,
for a structure of fame. Okay, let's move from
the acronyms back to the written word. We have
a section on novels, and it seems like fame is
a very popular title for a book. It is. It's
punchy. It's evocative. If you see a book on
a shelf called Fame, you immediately have questions.
Is it a romance? A thriller? A satire? The source
lists a whole cluster of them. A 2005 novel by
Karen Kingsbury. A 2008 novel by Mark Rowlands.
A 2011 novel by Tilly Bagshaw. And a 2009 novel
by Daniel Kilman. The source notes the original
German title was Ruhm. Which translates to Fame.
Right. And what's interesting here is the timing.
2005, 2008, 2009, 2011. This is the same era
as the Lady Gaga album. And the peak of the reality
TV boom. Exactly. It seems like writers in the
mid -2000s were collectively trying to process
this cultural shift. That makes perfect sense.
Reality TV changed the rules and made fame seem
accessible to everyone, for good or ill. And
fiction writers had to step in and say, okay,
but what does that do to us as a society? Right.
Killman's book, for example, is a series of interconnected
stories about how technology and celebrity disconnect
us from reality. It explores the consequences.
When everyone has a screen and everyone wants
to be on the screen, what happens to human connection?
A question we're still asking. We are. The source
also mentions a periodical. Fame. Magazine. Described
as an American celebrity monthly that ran from
1988 to 1991. Short life. Just three years. But
look at the dates. It launched in 88, the peak
of the fame franchise era. Peak 80s excess. But
it folded in 91. Why do you think that is? 1991?
That's the year Nirvana released. Never mind.
Exactly. The culture shifted on a dime. The glossy,
high -hair, shoulder pad aesthetic of the 80s
crashed. Grunge took over. Irony took over. And
a magazine explicitly celebrating the glitz of
fame probably felt suddenly very, very uncool.
It's a great reminder that the word itself, the
concept, goes in and out of style. It does. Now,
we've talked about ideas, songs, books, and chemical
compounds, but fame is also a place on a map.
Geography is always the most grounding part of
these deep dives, I find. Me too. The source
lists two specific locations in the United States.
Fame, Mississippi, And Fane, West Virginia. And
both of them are listed as unincorporated communities.
Which is a polite way of saying very small. Very
small. No mayor, no city council, just a cluster
of houses and a zip code. There is something
so wonderfully ironic about a tiny, quiet crossroads
in rural Mississippi being named Fane. It's the
exact opposite of the definition we started with.
Right. It's not notable. It's not celebrated
globally. It's just home for a few people. It
makes you wonder about the founders, doesn't
it? Why name it Fame? Was it aspirational? Did
they think a railroad was coming through? Or
was it named after a person? We'll probably never
know. Whatever the reason, today it stands as
a quiet counterpoint. You can go to Fame, Mississippi,
and I guarantee you won't find any paparazzi.
You'll find silence. And then we leave the land
and go to the sea. The source lists HMS Fame.
And not just one. The source notes numerous ships
of the Royal Navy. And Fame. Yeah. Numerous merchant
ships. This is where the history of the word
really shines. Long before David Bowie, long
before cameras, the British Royal Navy was naming
warships fame. And this goes back to Femme, the
goddess we talked about at the start. It changes
the context completely. A warship named Fame
isn't about being liked on Instagram. No, it's
about glory. It's about reputation in battle.
Precisely. A ship named Fame projects power.
It says, our reputation precedes us. You have
heard of us, and you should be afraid. There
is a lineage of ships carrying that name across
centuries of naval warfare. So it connects the
word to national pride and military might. Which
is a very different flavor than celebrity. Speaking
of history and memory, there was one more physical
object on our list that carries a significant
amount of weight. The monument. Yes. The source
lists Fame Confederate Monument or Gloria Victus.
It's a memorial in Salisbury, North Carolina.
This brings a somber historical tone to the discussion.
Here, fame isn't about entertainment at all.
No, it's about memorializing a conflict. Gloria
Victus translates to glory to the vanquished.
And the statue itself. It represents the concept
of fame holding a laurel wreath over a dying
soldier. It serves as a reminder that this word
has been used to shape historical narratives.
So monuments are attempts to make a specific
version of history famous or permanent. That's
a good way to put it. It really shows that this
word isn't neutral. It can be used for pop songs,
but it can also be used for political statements
and historical memory. It's a tool. Absolutely.
Fame is a spotlight. And whoever builds the monument
or writes the song or names the ship gets to
decide where to point that spotlight. Okay. We
have traveled from Mississippi to the Royal Navy
to North Carolina. Let's bring it back to something
a bit more consumable. I think I know where you're
going. The final category in our source is consumer
goods. And we return to the queen of the concept.
Lady Gaga. Again. The source lists Lady Gaga
fame, a fragrance for women endorsed by Lady
Gaga. This feels like the full circle moment
we talked about. We talked about her album, The
Fame. We talked about her song, The Fame. And
now she has bottled it. She literally sold fame
as a perfume. It is the ultimate commodification.
But do you know the detail about the fluid itself?
It's not in the source list, but it's a famous
detail about this product. Now what? The perfume
liquid was black. Black in the bottle? Yes. It
was the first black eau de parfum. It sprays
black, but it dries clear on the skin. That is
incredibly on brand for her. It was designed
to represent the dark heart of fame. It looks
destructive. It looks like an oil slick, but
then it disappears. Wow. It perfectly encapsulates
the journey of the word in the 21st century.
Fame is a product. It's a chemical simulation.
It's something you buy at a department store.
It's brilliant branding. And it ties everything
together. The list starts with a definition of
notability, goes through movies, music, science,
geography. And ends with a bottle of black perfume.
It's a comprehensive ecosystem. It really is.
So let's try to recap this journey. When we started,
fame was just a word. Now, now it's a jazz musician
from 1943 named Georgie who changed his name
to fit the times. It's a canceled satellite that
wanted to map 40 million stars but ran out of
money. It's a magic club for kids practicing
illusions in a basement. It's a chemical compound
used in biodiesel to run our engines. And yes,
it is a Lady Gaga empire. It's amazing how a
simple disambiguation page can reveal so much
about how we think as a culture. We use this
one word to label our biggest dreams. Whether
that's a platinum album or a successful harvest
of fatty acids. That's the takeaway for me. While
we usually define fame as being known, the source
list proves that the word is often used as an
aspiration. That's it. It's a label for things
that want to be important. That small town in
Mississippi named itself fame because it hoped
to be something. That debut album named itself
fame. That satellite was named fame. They're
all reaching for something. It's a badge of hope.
Exactly. It's the human condition of wanting
to matter, distilled into four letters. And I
want to leave our listeners with one final thought,
something to chew on. We mentioned theme at the
beginning. The ancient personification of renown.
The root of it all. In a way, every single thing
on this list, every ship, every album, every
magic club, is just a modern shrine to that ancient
idea. We haven't stopped worshipping theme. We
just changed the rituals. Instead of building
temples, we film reality shows and launch perfumes.
But the desire, the desire to be spoken of, is
exactly the same. That is a powerful thought.
The medium changes, but the human drive for renown
is constant. Thank you so much for joining us
on this deep dive into the dictionary. Who knew
four letters could hold so much world? It was
a pleasure to explore it. We'll see you next
time on The Deep Dive. Keep learning.