Sometimes we pine for the days before celebrities became bloggers. There was a time when, if you wanted to hear something that originated in a celebrity's brain, that something had been painstakingly culled by a professional pseudo-journalist from the reams and reams of useless, insipid crap that make up the bulk of what celebrities say, do, and think. That way, celebrities could be accurately portrayed as shapely, pretty, empty shells upon which we all could project our hopes and dreams. But that was before they fucked it all up by putting their ideas onto their own blogs without any adult supervision whatsoever.
The Huffington Post is a leading offender in this regard, having encouraged celebrities from Alec Baldwin to John Cusack to write things down with words that come from within them. Bad move. But unfortunate celebrity bloggers come in all shapes and sizes and relative absence of intellects, from MC Hammer on his favorite YouTube videos to Rosie O'Donnell's terrible poetry to Kenneth Cole's uncalled-for "outpouring of opinions, loves, hates, fears," etc., etc.
Sinatra with a cold is Picasso without paint, Ferrari without fuel — only worse. For the common cold robs Sinatra of that uninsurable jewel, his voice, cutting into the core of his confidence, and it affects not only his own psyche but also seems to cause a kind of psychosomatic nasal drip within dozens of people who work for him, drink with him, love him, depend on him for their own welfare and stability. A Sinatra with a cold can, in a small way, send vibrations through the entertainment industry and beyond as surely as a President of the United States, suddenly sick, can shake the national economy.
Britney Spears had a cold. But she confirmed on her blog that her album would not be delayed, so luckily the cold did not affect her fans, or the rest of the nation, in the least.