Epiphanies and Revelations: Hollywood Trainwreck Edition

Im not going to lie: The gossip/tabloid/paparazzi Cluster F that is Hollywood fascinates and intrigues me. Its not simply because LA is my old stomping ground, producing a twinge of nostalgia when I check in with the gossip blogs on the circus that its become - sort of like cringing at old high school photos, recounting the bad fashion and worse choices, minus - atleast for me - unearned fame and a debilitating coke habit. Nor is it that I simply enjoy watching the continuous downward spiral of the vapid and terminally self-impressed.

No - I like to pay attention to the consistent spin of the celebrity world because I am convinced that there is always a much darker, and much more sinister force behind each and every publicity stunt, calculated pregnancy, or attention whoring incarceration.

When I am told to pay no attention to the man behind the curtain - I say nay. I read between the lines. I see through the smoke screens. I conjure up conspiracy theories about famous strangers. Man, I do have too much free time.

But I digress. My most recent infatuation is everyone’s favorite crazy redhead, Ms. Lindsay Lohan. She is glorious. My adoration for this little tart began with the incomparable Mean Girls:





How gorgeous is she?! Bubbly, voluptuous, vibrant... this was the adorable girl who showed up with that fabulous hair, skin, and smile, and made us all wish we could go red for awhile. I liked her so much in this movie, and for rocking some great healthy curves, that I even forgave her for releasing an album, hosting the MTV Movie Awards where she subjected us all to her delusional dance skillz (you tube!), and finally for dating Fez. She seemed to be genuinely enjoying her new fame, while simultaneously accomplishing a very difficult feat: remaining entirely comfortable in her own skin.

And then, THIS happened...






Ladies and Gentlemen: The devil incarnate. The succubus struck, and she struck hard. LL never had a chance. Compare the photos and notice that once lively spirit, that passion and determination, that sincere hope in a meaningful future, has all but been replaced by the icy deadness of desperation, and an unfortunate makeup foundation choice.

So, here is my semi-professional opinion: Lindsay bounded into Hollywood all fresh faced and multi-talented, looking to fulfill life long dreams of stardom, whilst posessing some actual quantifiable talent. And then, in the truest recreation of life imitating art, she hitched her wagon to the queen bee of the Hollywood lunch tables, Paris "Regina George" Hilton. Amongst rumors of catfights, boyfriend stealing, std's and racial slurs, Linds made a fatal mistake: She tried to one-up crazy. She tried to beat crazy at its own game. She tried to out-drink, out-drug, out-whore, and out-game the girl who, lets face it, INVENTED IT. Lilo insisted on playing roulette with her life and career, all in the name of an ill-fated quest to usurp the reigning queen of Valtrex and familial embarrassment. And the rest, as they say, is history:





Sad.

Stay tuned next week for:

Jessica Simpson: Who?
A decisive look at how a girl with marginal talent needs to get her bad decision making, totally deluded posterior back to church!