Before I started writing for this here publication, I didn't really know much or care about Paris Hilton. The drunken, showbiz dabbling heiress just didn't catch my fancy because, really, what was the point?? Well I've been covering her for over a month now and, as it turns out, I sort of love her. The woman is unflappable. Her big, starring-role movie tanked (making about $76 per theater), but it doesn't seem to have slowed her one bit. Look! Just today came an announcement that she's doing a surprise performance with the Pussy Cat Dolls in Las Vegas. Why? Because she's promoting some sort of shoe line. Also, because why the hell not. She was recently given a mock award by the Harvard Lampoon, and she took it in self-deprecating stride. Sure she went to jail, had a sleazy night-vision sex tape, set a shitty example for her twinkish brother Barron, and is most likely a vainglorious monster, but I really don't care.
She's had a hit single, been in several movies, and made millions of dollars on her own, all the while having no discernible talent or skills (except for a good eye for marketing opportunities.) My theory about her is that she's simultaneously self-aware and completely clueless, and it's that dichotomy that keeps me shamefully interested. It's as if she lives in another dimension and just pops into ours every so often to do weird things. And that's kind of great. Keep on keepin' on, friend. Below, find video of four examples of why I love the hood-lidded hero.
She's kind of funny!
Her music is campy, her videos ridiculous!
She's helpless like a fox!
She's comfortable lying on national television!