Reality packed its bags, cancelled the mail, put its dog in a kennel and boarded a plane to take a long flight as far away as possible from this week’s tabloids.
Former FBI chief "Hoover Ordered Kennedys & MLK Murdered!” screams the National Enquirer front page, promising “Explosive PROOF That Will Change History.” Don’t rewrite the history books yet. Their “proof” is a memo from FBI archives in which J. Edgar Hoover wrote of his dislike for civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. Hardly a smoking gun, and about as new as the Gutenberg Bible. Why doesn’t the Enquirer answer the really hard question: Did Hoover kill JFK, RFK and MLK because he hated acronyms?
“Prince Philip, 97, DIED & Came Back to Life!” in his recent car crash, proclaims the Globe cover. The Queen’s consort allegedly died before the accident, and the impact restarted his heart. The Globe presumably knows this because the tabloid has the Prince wired to an EKG at all times, transmitting real-time info to its reporting team, trained cardiologists every one of them. That would explain why Prince Philip was taken to the hospital and released the same day, because that’s standard medical procedure for someone who just died and was brought back to life.
"Robert Wagner blocks bid to exhume Natalie!” reports the Enquirer. It’s hardly shocking that Hollywood veteran Wagner might not want wife Natalie Wood's remains disturbed, but he doesn’t have a say in the matter – Wood’s exhumation could be ordered by the Los Angeles County Coroner, the LAPD or the Sheriff’s Department regardless of what Wagner thinks. That they haven’t done so is an indication of how worthwhile they believe an exhumation would be in gathering any new evidence about her demise, and isn’t necessarily evidence that Wagner has anything to hide.
The Enquirer laments Brad Pitt’s “Private Hell – 935 days without his kids.” Of course Pitt has seen his children, often and at length, during the past three years. What the Enquirer means is that the paparazzi haven’t seen Pitt with his children for 935 days. And we can all share the rag’s genuine sympathy and sadness for those poor lensmen deprived of a lucrative photo of Pitt and children because of the actor’s callous disregard for the snappers’ welfare.
“Stalkers & Swingers Scare Off Meghan & Harry!” says the Enquirer. Yes, the heavily-pregnant Royal duo have decided to break the lease on their rental in Britain’s Cotswolds, and yes, the difficulty of securing the site has been speculated as a possible reason. But the Enquirer has decided that because there are country lanes and “quiet spots nearby” they must be gathering points for “couples, gay men and voyeurs.” Nothing homophobic to see here, move along, move along . . .
“Mick Jagger, 75, battling mental disorder!” reports the Globe. What dire mental illness has the Rolling Stones frontman in its grasp? He’s germaphobic, the Globe reveals, “constantly using hand sanitizer.” Oh, the horror. So what does that make President Donald Trump, a reported germaphobe who has been seen slathering his tiny appendages with hand sanitizer?
Us magazine’s cover promises to tell readers "All About the Royal Baby! Yes, there are celebrity nursery designers, a doula for the delivery (if I had a doula for every time I’d heard that, I’d be rich), and no nanny at first because Meghan’s mum Doria will move in and do nanny duties (which I predict the Enquirer will pounce on next week as proof that the young Royals are cash-poor and can’t afford a nanny). But what do we actually learn about the baby? Nothing, of course, not even its gender, though I wouldn’t be surprised if the Globe doesn’t have the first in utero interview any day now.
Anne Hathaway graces the cover of People magazine, with her tale of "Life, Love & Surviving Hollywood.” Once “Hollywood’s Most Hated Woman” she’s been usurped by Gwyneth Paltrow, and claims she’s happy, she’s older, and she wishes her critics would put “some intelligence behind it . . . Be witty, maybe pun a little bit.” You have to admit, she hathaway with words.
Princess Kate laments in People about the rigors of motherhood: “It’s so hard.” Poor thing. I can’t imagine how she copes with all those nannies, servants, equerries, chauffeurs, courtiers, ladies-in-waiting and bodyguards.
Fortunately we have the crack investigative team at Us magazine to tell us that Victoria Justice wore it best, that TV’s The Bachelor suitor Colton Underwood never wore underwear until he appeared on the show, and that the stars are just like us: they drink smoothies, snap selfies, and feed parking meters. All while wearing underwear, one hopes.
After years of seeing stars fill their purses with erudite works of literature, elite cruelty-free artisanal fragrances and healing crystals, it’s a relief to see actress Adrianne Palicki in Us mag’s regular feature “What’s In My Bag?” admitting that the contents of her Rebecca Minkoff M.A.B. tote are “a disaster.” She’s one of the rare few who doesn’t look like she’s hired a lifestyle consultant and New Age guru to curate her bag’s contacts: old movie stubs, an aging iPhone 7 with a cracked screen, an eight-year-old Wonder Woman flashlight, a photo of Freddy Mercury circa 1985, along with small packets of almonds and a crumpled $20 bill. Where’s the fancy book on economic theory or international politics to prove she’s an intelligent modern woman? “I'm not reading anything right now,” she says. Bravo!
The Globe brings us “!0 Things You Don’t Know About Tichina Arnold.” Let me stop you right there – I don’t even know who Tichina Arnold is, let alone ten things about her.
If you’ve ever wondered whether tabloid readers even know what day it is, along comes proof in the shape of a full-page ad in the Globe for a 3-foot-tall faux Christmas tree decorated with miniature CDs celebrating Elvis Presley, alongside the headline “Happy Holidays from Graceland.” To paraphrase Bob Geldof: Do they know it’s not Christmas?
Onwards and downwards . . .