I understand that, just as serial television has replaced popular short fiction, gossipy celebrity worship has replaced soap operas as the primary manner in which we satisfy our societal urge for glitzy, vapid tales of luxury and glamour. And that’s fine for US Weekly and the rest of the supermarket tabs. But why does the Washington Post have to buy into it too? You’d think that in a publication of such stature a story on Oscar parties would have at least an undercurrent of thoughtful critique along with the celebrity dish. Instead, we get a string of boozy observations like:

Ryan Gosling, Ryan Gosling, Ryan freakin’ Gosling: He has the allure of the new. He’s here with his mom. Everyone wonders where Rachel McAdams is. Ryan, come sit on our lap and tell us. (He does not get this telepathic message, and leaves hand-in-hand with mother.)

For a far better take on Rachel McAdams and celebrity adulation, I recommend this.