It’s stories like these that make me want to throw in the green towel… This antiquated perception of beauty… a girl which may have started out as a nice girl, relatively bright, certainly head strong from her first interviews when she first erupted on the scene… but there’s nothing real about her… nothing true, nothing human, nothing sane… just misguided masculine fantasy wrapped around a plastic interior… it would hurt her so much inside to find herself… it would devalue everything her and her work as ever stood for, she wouldn’s survive the “prise de conscience”… girls like her are a dine a dozen on super yatchs in St. Tropez… they are the reason we are wallowing in oil, and coal, and nuclear… there isn’t an ounce left of connection between who she is as a person, and the natural organism that needs to be in tune with the Earth to feel the Universe… She’s an alien in her own spirit… a pastiche… if she ever read this she’d dismiss it, but that’s why so many of these girls, when their career starts to fade… turn to religion to hold themselves together… because nothing makes sense anymore now that their magic sexual attraction isn’t part of their inner working… it’s a terrifying thing to lose your power, and a big fat jet plane won’t replace what she had when she walked down the streets of London at 17… The smart ones because healers… the sad ones go live in Palm Beach, wrap themselves in gold, and die horrible painful souless deaths!