The real tragedy of Paris Hilton lays not in her ‘Duck Tales’ style loot of gold or her parents’ no boundaries approach to discipline; no, sir. The unmatched horror lays in her similarities to our daughters, sisters, and lady friends. As the Cosmopolitans flow, the sun shyly sets, and America’s working class descends into dreams of lives they will never live, Paris Hilton remains on the dance floor, gyrating and coyly undoing buttons, as she competes for attention alongside the rest of Uncle Sam’s unchaperoned daughters. That, sir, is the real catastrophe.
Zap2It.com just announced that NBC is in talks to pay over 1,000,000 dollars for exclusive first interview rights with the currently jailed Paris Hilton. The ratings will be huge and fodder for water cooler conversations assured, but I caution you from vilifying the misguided heiress. You very well may be rebuking your own daughter. And that, sir, is the real blunder.
As a nation, we play shocked, almost enraged at the debuacherous excesses of young Hollywood. Parents say their prayers and calmly thank their Maker, gleefully assuring themselves that as a whole, American daughters have diverted from this unholy course. Meanwhile, semi-grown up little girls armor themselves in tube-tops and miniskirts, trekking to shady frat houses. Amidst a soundtrack of “My Humps” and uncreative pick-up lines, they enter the real world of excess, a sheltered environment away from tabloid cameras and “B”-list celebrities.
It’s a fleeting existence, a secret society known only to those between the ages of fifteen and twenty five. As business executives smile and twenty six birthday candles are slowly blown out, a generation will slowly deny their way into amnesia. One-night stands will be pushed into the dark recesses of yesteryear, and hypocrites will slowly emerge, ready to chastise and morally judge the next crop of young Hollywood starlets. That, sir, is the real ruination.
We scoff at Paris Hilton, even castigate her for our own behavior. She’s placed atop a lofty pedestal, conveniently in reach of our scathing remarks and rods of judgement. Her every action is closely examined and reported to middle-America’s foreground, inching parenting off the radar with naive reassurances that our daughters couldn’t possibly act like that. That, sir, is the real failure.
