Now here’s a thing. Page Six of the New York Post (America’s newspaper of record) on Saturday ran a brief item about Paris Hilton. Nothing strange about that, of course — it’s a rare day they DON’T have something to say about Ms. Hilton.

Here is the first half of the story:

“Those ugly bruises Paris Hilton was sporting… this week were an eerie reminder of the last bad days of her romance with Backstreet Boy Nick Carter. This time, however, you can blame over-ardent fans, says Hilton consultant Elliot Mintz. ‘She’s very slender and can bruise easily,’
Mintz explains. ‘And that’s what happens when too many people are coming at her and bodyguards are trying to move her around…’”

No need for the rest. Now, what stopped my eye there was the word “fans.” Apparently Ms. Hilton has hordes of fans, who are over-ardent in their attempts to get close to her.

Fans? Fans? Don’t you have to have actually done something before you can accumulate fans? What aspect of Ms. Hilton’s career has inspired people to become her fans? Singing? Dancing? Acting?

Championship high-board diving? Cracking the Riemann Hypothesis?

Any time you catch yourself thinking that your life might be empty and pointless, just meditate for a minute or two on the concept “Paris Hilton fan.” That should set you straight.