Dead celebrities are screwed. I'm still all muddled up with feelings of ickyness about the Kurt and Courtney movie, and first thing this morning I'm getting bombarded with Anna Nicole Smith's diaries. Ok, as much as I'd like to be indignant about this, I don't really think Anna Nicole would oppose everyone and their grandmother reading her diaries. This is the same woman who made a characticure out of herself on a reality television show. I don't consider it being invasive either, it's more like evidence or an opportunity to understand more how this strange woman became such a strange woman. Maybe it will finally answer the question, "How smart is Anna Nicole, I mean really?"
And diaries. I think everyone has to realize that at one point, they might fall into someone else's hands. Anne Frank and Harriet the Spy are both prime examples. As I was reading clips of Anna Nicole's entries this morning, I couldn't help but feel that they were written for that very purpose. On an online poll this morning, 75% of voters said that publishing Anna Nicole's diary was disrespectful, but only 32% of voters said that they would not read them, if published. I hate hypocracy almost as much as I hate poor grammar, which is why I will probably stay away from reading the diaries in their entirety. Although, if someone wanted to read them for me and then give me a detailed report, well, that's ok.
Maybe this is sick and twisted, but I really hope that Elton John records a version of "Candle in the Wind" for Anna Nicole. And I hope Weird Al collaborates with the lyrics. You know what? I think I just figured out how I'm spending my Friday night!