When Elvis Presley broke onto the scene in 1956 he drove the girls wild. He was young, handsome, and loose around the hips, and he was the heart of a lot of fantasies in that simpler age. But celebredom is hard on people. I'd say it's the modern verson of the myths of old. The stuff of gods just destroys the forms of mortal men. So by the time his sweetheart Ginger Allen found him dead in his bathroom in 1977, he was nothing more than bloated. Celebrities tend to die early, and all too often they're gone long before they go to the dirt.
With that in mind, compare these two images. One is from February '05. The other is from June. BAM! Elvis grows, our Lindsay shrinks. And in all of five months. It feels like our celebrities are getting so much worse, even worse than they ever were. Now, a hot celebrity has, what? Less than a year from her arrival until Hollywood slaps her on a slab, sucks her dry, and fills her with ether, and silicone. Makes me sad. Makes me wish for a past that I know was never any better. And where's the good in that?