None of the secrets turn out to be secret? Apparently, thus is the lesson to be gleaned from every bit of news surrounding Madonna. Her front page news is supposed to be just feedstock for the hype machine and even her interior designer brother is getting in on dishing in a managed sort of way with his new book, Life With My Sister Madonna, kicking off its publicity tour in time to create more news (as he spills his "secrets") for the (im)material girl (?).
The lesson to be learned from celebs and nonentitities is that if you want to bore people away from whatever you're really hiding, make up some ridiculous secret. So, an old bloke says he got to be 108 by listening to Engelbert the Humperdinck and movie man Will Smith says marriage success is just multitudinous sex. Ridiculous? Yes. Headline grabbing? Yes. Distracting from their real dark secrets? Absolutely. And therein lies the genius.
Once upon a more innocent time, Playboy magazines were kept in secret by dads to be discovered by children who would the mark the important moment on the timeline of their sex life. Now, of course, there's googlicious sex on the internet and (really) who needs to go through dad's stuff when so much is out in the open. But secrets and sex still mesh when it comes to getting attention to all hale the marketing buildup for Hugh Hefner's authorized/unauthorized bio. Hopefully, by the time Mr. Playboy: Hugh Hefner and the American Dream is published in October, there will still be some secrets left to learn from it. So far, there is the the foursome with his brother and the blowjob from a guy that is making all the news. It will be shame if we don't get anything more from full access to his papers and memories of the 802-year-old roue who won't marry his 28-year-old "girlfriend." (Is there any secret to that?)
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Two more concerns for the day. Does mom know your darkest secrets? And assuming anyone wants to know them, what price will it take for her to reveal them? Alas, if you are Britney and Jamie Lynn Spears or Kerry Katona you are about to find out the answers to the first question. The moms have already found the price at which they will rat out their daughters, at least according to press reports that could just be attempts at promoting interest in books probably not that interesting ... or else the moms would get to write about their own lives.
Somehow, people seem to forget that you can't remake a secret. All you end up doing by trying is bring it more attention. Hence, all the kerfuffle over Barbara Walters' memoir, "Audition," which in it's audio edition has no sex talk. She has various clandestine affairs of the heart in the book, but it they only get promotional copy reference with the audio edition. So, her sex was secret once; now it's just something to be used to (additionally) demean her work.
Genius. Whoever thought up one special legal tactic for R. Kelly's team (defending him for being part of a disgusting sexual antic -- look it up yourself, if you don't already know about it and have to) is a genius. Twisted, perhaps, but a legal alchemist. The idea is to get the judge to charge prosecution witnesses to Kelly's "secret" because they knew the "secret" and did nothing about it. Perhaps discredited witnesses will result; perhaps a mistrial; perhaps just punishment for Kelly's "betrayers." Sick genius, nonetheless.
One secret, maybe two, is almost always entertaining. However, like a single footstep can begin your path of 10,000 miles, piling up one after another is surely the way to madness.
So, the story of Mistress Abi turning up as the wife of a British MI5 agent and also part of the Gestapo uniform-clad prostitute coterie of Max Mosely's S&M adventures already contains too many formerly unknown facts. It is already too hard to make sense of what is going on even before you add the question of whether or not the British secret service may also have been involved or whether it was some sort of shadowy group out to get either the 68-year-old Mosely (celebrating (?) his 48th wedding anniversary) or Formula One racing, which will breathe easier when he finally steps down from its head.
Like OMG. TMI. MI5. F1. Chillax. Like really.
Some day soon enough you will want that brain cell back. It will be too late. You will have wasted it brain power on knowing secrets of no interest. What did it do to your life to rattle the cerebellum with the secret wedding and maybe-pregnancy of Beyonce or that Minne Driver kept first her pregnancy secret and then the father and, probably soon enough, her wedding.
What actually is the term for a secret your don't care about? And is there some way to build up immunity to them?
In the web of secrets are players enabler and abler. The enabler is the person -- even an entire population in the case of Eldorado, Texas -- who refuse to ask a simple question, no matter how dark their suspicions (such as worries about child abuse, etc.). The abler those who lose secrets they might have kept because of who they have involved, might also be known as the dupe in the case of various famous (?) Brits who slept with the gloriously named C-lister and literateur (?) Abi Titumuss, who has chronicled various sexual exploits for July publication.
Is it just headline writers working their wiles, or does marriage really involve more secrets than anything else? There are the "secrets" of the happily married, the "secret" (or not-actual) marriages of Tony and Jessie and Angie and Brad and Bey & Jay and even Udhayathara and Thirumalai; and also the desperate secrets of those marrieds aching to breathe free. It seems unlikely to be nature's way for while I don't speak squirrel it seems they, for example, are able to pair off without such fuss.
** Feed the hunger. Big Jo craves mariage secrets. **
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