Lucy Kellaway in the FT said that ambition is, "nothing but a displacement activity for unhappy people". With my application for even more responsibility in the post to London, a half-finished novel on my hard disk and a (potentially ridiculous) Business Plan in my back pocket, I am still pondering the truth of this statement. What (I ask myself) do I really want from life? Is Mozza right?
Fame, Fame, fatal Fame
It can play hideous tricks on the brain
But still I'd rather be Famous
Than righteous or holy, any day
Any day, any day
But is ambition and fame really worth it? When Jarvis Cocker finally got what he'd been after for so long (the money, the fame, the women), what did he do? He made the monster This is Hardcore - one of the most roundly depressing (though admittedly sublime) moments of music (and the death knell of Brit Pop). And the title of Bob Geldof's autobiography after the global success that was Live Aid? Is That It? And Moz himself is hardly top of the pops when it comes to feeling happy with one's lot in life either.
So do I really want what I want, or do I just like to pretend I want what I want? And if I got what I want, would I still want it? On which side of the fence is the grass greener? Answers on a postcard please to the usual address.
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