I’m sorry to inflict this on y’all, but…
The Young Turks predict exactly what El Predicto out at MY end does.
In a way, this is a foregone conclusion–it’s what you get when you combine youth with only a modest amount of talent, a not-so-natural beauty, and a sex-crazed, gossip-mad tabloid media. It NEVER ends well.
Meanwhile, on a more literary note, I love this one by Frank O’Hara:
Poem (Lana Turner has collapsed!)
Lana Turner has collapsed!
I was trotting along and suddenly
it started raining and snowing
and you said it was hailing
but hailing hits you on the head
hard so it was really snowing and
raining and I was in such a hurry
to meet you but the traffic
was acting exactly like the sky
and suddenly I see a headline
LANA TURNER HAS COLLAPSED!
there is no snow in Hollywood
there is no rain in California
I have been to lots of parties
and acted perfectly disgraceful
but I never actually collapsed
oh Lana Turner we love you get up
You should hear that one read aloud by the author, BTW; it’s hysterical. He sounds so queeny, so over-the-top, so mocking, and yet so sincerely despairing, especially on the last line.
Unfortunately, like Cenk, I doubt if Britney will live to become one-tenth the artist that Lana Turner was.