Blondes

Best first six paragraphs in an article I’ve read in a long time, from this piece in Salon today- 

Three blondes have albums coming out in August: Christina Aguilera, Jessica Simpson and … yes, Paris Hilton, have already dropped their various single droppings into the Clear Channel pop airwaves, with full albums following. 

This raises questions: How do we tell them apart? And, for that matter, how do we know that any of them aren’t Ashlee Simpson? 

All three “singers” are “blonde.” At least two have had nose jobs, and at least two have had breast enhancements. Two are more famous for having sex than they are for singing. One is more famous than the other two for urinating in taxicabs because she dislikes public restrooms. And none of them are Ashlee Simpson — but, squinting with both eyes and ears until only the clap track, white head and boobies are apparent … can it really be said that any of them are actually not Ashlee Simpson? 

Lastly, why does this locustlike proliferation of blondes seem to somehow be … a Republican plot

Conventional beauty has long been attainable for anyone willing to throw enough time, effort and cash at it. If there is one thing we have learned from great Hollywood makeup artists like the late Kevyn Aucoin, just about anyone without severe craniofacial deformities can look TV sexy with enough lighting, spackle, tweezing and shellac, if they are properly blow-dried and in a comely mood. Add D cups, rhinoplasty and peroxide, and the world is your birthday pony. 

If the advent of J.Lo taught us anything, it was that Madonna was no anomaly: If you can shake your bon-bon with enough Will to Power, it is entirely unnecessary for a pop star to be able to sing. With enough audio pancake concealer, multiple track layerings, a loose reverb wrist, 130 beats per minute and a sweaty cleavage video, the ordinary bleatings of any leaky sex doll can become a virtual cash cow of spring-break anthems.” 

Amen… 

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