The pain of a great loss

Dear Diary:
Anna Nicole Smith is gone and I'm not sure what I'll do. Our world has lost an icon. A stylemaker. A role model for people everywhere. At least, for people who aren't all that bright but want to remain in the public eye despite having no readily identifiable talent. Where in Hollywood will we ever find anyone like that again?
I realize I'm late in writing about this, Diary. Frankly, it was too much to process right away. All I wanted to do was pretend it hadn't happened but there was nowhere I could turn. At the gym on the night she died I had to watch endless Fox News coverage while I ran on the treadmill. CNN is said to have gone 90 minutes commercial-free with nothing but Anna Nicole news. I don't blame them. What, after all, could be more important than the tragic death of a woman who brought joy to so many. Who brought news of TrimSpa to the masses and who, let's be honest, made us all feel just a little bit better about ourselves.
Even now, weeks after she left us, Anna Nicole's death is still very much a topic of conversation. Just recently a judge wept as he ruled on the fate of Anna Nicole's daughter. People made fun of him for that, but not me. He knew. Anna Nicole was gone and she was never coming back. How could any baby be better off with a mother like Anna Nicole out of the picture?
Just last week, Stephen King wrote about Anna Nicole in a column for Entertainment Weekly. He called her life a fairy tale, and that seems about right. She rose from poverty to prominence is just like Cinderella. You know, assuming that after she married the prince Cinderella got hooked on drugs, flashed her hooters in some bad movies and let a film crew follow her around for a few months while she made a fool of herself. Which I think she totally did. Just read between the lines in the original text. Also, I imagine marrying a wrinkly old rich dude is probably a lot like kissing a frog.
Frankly, Diary, I'm not sure what we'll do next. Who will we turn to for our regular doses of celebrity inanity? Who else out there can so consistently put herself in the public eye despite contributing nothing of any real substance to society. Britney Spears is trying, Diary, bless her heart. But she is just one woman and frankly I'm not sure how much longer she can keep up this pace.
Paris Hilton? Tara Reid? Jessica Simpson? It's a start, Diary, but somehow it's not the same.
Lindsay Lohan? Actually, I kind of liked Mean Girls.
It's hard right now, Diary, but I know it will pass. I know we'll move on. As hard as it will be, I know society will find someone to fill the void. We need to. It's part of what Wired magazine this month describes as our Snack Culture. In a world of YouTube clips and pop songs shrunk down to cell phone ringtones we don't want celebrities we have to think about. We want someone we can know all about even if all we read about them is the blurbs on the cover of Us Weekly. We don't want thoughtful, artistic films. We want Internet clips of cute puppies and guys getting hit in the junk.
I know all of this, Diary. I know life will return to normal just as it did after Barbaro left us. But that's for the future, Diary. For now it just hurts.