Splitting of the Parii

Yes, it’s true. Our dreams of a fabulously terrible wedding and even more fabulously terrible baby naming are gone. Paris Hilton and Paris Greek-Shipping-Heir have called off their engagement. We are left only to wonder what her next publicity stunt will be. I mean she’s already had a sex video, done a reality TV series, announced a foray into the music industry, lost her precious purse dog, and “accidentally” become the victim of a cell phone-ish thingy stealing. I think the next step must be some personal tragedy (greater than losing her Man Paris) that will result in a tear-fest on Oprah. Prescription drug rehab? Strange liver disease? Conversion to Scientology? As always, whatever it is, I only ask that it be SUPREMELY terrible.

In other strange news, Bush’s newest Supreme Court nominee is a woman who (a) has never been a judge and (b) has never argued a case before the Supreme Court. I’m still trying to find the angle on this one. Appealing to his base? No. Sticking to his guns on the [alleged] issue of qualifications vs. diversity? No. Digging himself further into the ground on matters of cronyism? Yes.

All of this, of course, borders on the surreal -- which plays nicely into the account of my weekend in Vegas.

I’ve decided, that the thing with Vegas is that they’ve built up this mystique of Vegas being all CRAY-ZEE!!! and WOO!!! all the time. But in actuality, the craziness disappoints. From what I saw, it was a lot of people who think they are crazy, much in the same way that reality TV contestants often think they are strategic and subtle. Actual craziness, though, demands far more doing of crazy things and far less vague discussion of the possibility of crazy things. And it’s hard to be too crazy when you are in a city bombarded with both buffet dinners and posters featuring Celine Dion.

More on Vegas later…