..."So who art thou, then, spirit?" "I am that Power that wills forever evil, yet does forever good."
- Goethe, "Faust"
I can't figure out whether Paris is, as she appears to be, the most appalling moron ever to have sprung from Hollywood, or a self-marketing genius playing a culture so ludicrous that it makes a celebrity out of someone for doing exactly nothing except having a dog in her handbag. And in a town where self-promotion is practiced to it's highest art, she would have to be a genius. If it's the former the question is: is it her fault for being stupid or is it our fault for being more stupid? If the latter, then the answer is clear that we are even stupider than we know. Either way, we don't come out of it well but she has plumped out her feather-nest from Grandpa Hilton very nicely thank-you and might never have to work a day in her life. Of course she must have entered into a soul-selling arrangement with some Mephistopholean agent along the line in order to embark on her "career" but many people sell their souls (especially in Hollywood, although I don't have the soul-deficit numbers for Hollywood right in front of me at the moment), perhaps in dribs and drabs over the years and not so spectacularly as she has, but the devil will take the receipt just the same.She's a puzzle and a pox at the same time. I can't be bothered with the puzzle and the pox on the culture is ugly so I say lets shoot her! In the heart not the head though, as her head doesn't seem to be all that involved in her day-to-day life and I fear the bullet might just pass right through, the wind whistling spookily around the cobwebbed cavity of her skull, the shutters of her eyes falling closed suddenly every now and again, her mouth flapping yet, all the while.
Truly poetic justice, Sam, in at least one sense. But I fear it won't work. Paris's head is not the only empty space in her body, it seems; I suspect she also doesn't have a heart. And, to judge by her looks, she doesn't seem to have much of a stomach, either. In fact, there's only one cavity in La Hilton that's more or less permanently filled these days -- but it's rather unmentionable in a respectable family magazine as The Sunday Ire.
Just the one, Des?
Erm, yeah... sorry. Between one and three, I should have said.
Post a Comment