Tabloid, guillotine, whatever, whatever…

Amanda Bynes

The hive mind is at it again, delighting in the downfall of one more member of the young, rich, famous elite.   I’m guilty too; for my moth of a sleep-deprived or overworked mind, celebrity gossip is a delicious flame, just attractive and distracting enough to replace my own flaws and burdens with a superficial narrative, played out by fake faces and their string-pulling publicists. Sometimes it’s not so fake, though.  Sometimes someone is so uncomfortably raw that it can’t be an act, but the public forgets not to treat it as such.  No one trapped behind the gloss of. . . keep going