Alfie didn’t need to feel like a marked man in 1966. He had lots of company. Everyone on the planet, to be exact. No one knew then, or knows now, “What’s it all about?” Necessarily, the meaning of life must be denied to us the living, mere mortals that we are. Equally as inaccessible, the meaning of death remains proprietary — owned absolutely by that rather sizable population on the other side of the celestial curtain. Clearly, you better leave these grand imaginings to the clergy who routinely stand behind lofty pulpits and routinely suggest they know precisely what God knows and wants. What God does know is that you routinely fixate on earthly riddles — or to be precise — on the human absurdity that exists in the land of the living. High on the list of idiocy is an affliction that renders human beings nothing short of demented. You call that affliction Celebrity Mania Syndrome, or CMS. You remember the first time you witnessed what amounted to human frenzy. You were 9. It was halftime of a Saturday matinee double feature at the Temple Theater. Johnny Mack Brown had just thwarted a bank robbery in Law Men. Next up was Vigilantes of Dodge City starring Wild Bill Elliott as Red Ryder. But now the Movietone News logo flickered in black and white on the screen and immediately hundreds of teenage girls were screaming, sobbing and swooning — over — none other — than Sinatra — a string bean crooner whose purring style unleashed a kind of pubescent bedlam. Even at 9, you could make no sense of it — this unglued behavior, the utter delirium. You simply were too young, too inexperienced, to comprehend this illogical conduct. Innocently, only one word echoed in your juvenile brain — “goofy.” In the decades to come, you would learn that imbecilic ritual is not the exclusive province of bobbysoxers and teenyboppers. Millions, perhaps hundreds of millions, of adults seem hell-bent to apply God-like status to persons who have achieved some sort of success — as politicians, as musicians, as actors, as athletes, as broadcasters  — even, God help us, as community organizers. Like their moonstruck ancestors, masses of goggle-eyed Brits and tourists line streets to gape rapturously at William, the Prince, and Catherine, the Duchess, as this royal progeny sits or stands or strolls — or waves and smiles. You may ask: “What has either of these people accomplished to merit this all-consuming adoration — this CM?” Silly question. They were conceived and born. Period. Not a bad gig if you can swing it. But royalty isn’t restricted to royal sperm. At least not in America — a country that idolizes entertainers and ignores the geniuses of industry. A country addicted to America’s media, that “bastion of culture and integrity.” A country of people infatuated with musicians, singers and actors. A country of people — by the millions — who believe famous celebrities surely have famous brains. People who evidently never heard that Hollywood is make-believe. Serious make-believe. Smoke and mirrors. And while these made-up idols are acting, playing and singing, real people in all walks of life are at work in the real world — raising civilization to new heights. Nobody’s lining the streets cheering for these people. Nobody applauds the engineers, surgeons, scientists, electricians, carpenters and bricklayers. The media ignores them. The media ignores the producers and businessmen ( and women) who make things happen, who move the needle of life; and in fact, the media belittles, condemns and begrudges them their success. The media is more interested in the opinions of a Danny Glover, or Lady Gaga or Tom Hanks or Whoopi Goldberg, than in those of research scientists who make life-saving discoveries. And, astonishingly, while real heroes die in foreign lands to preserve liberty’s torch, Americans are willing to tolerate that head Washington celebrity — the poster child of CMS — that fabricated aristocrat of zero accomplishment whose sole qualification is an oily tongue. Long ago, somebody of note advised the people to beware of “false idols.” Your guess is the people didn’t listen, didn’t heed that advice. And what about now? Even a nine-year-old can answer that one.