What do Anna Nicole Smith, nee Vickie Lynn Marshall, and a group of legendary singers of a cappella isicathamiya have in common? Aside from fame -- and even that to an arguable degree of deservedness -- well, not very much. The well-known South African chorus is often fondly referenced in pop culture, has endured a turbulent five decades, was never the focus of a fortnight of pointless probing on the Nancy Grace show, and perhaps most tellingly of all, never had a member try to marry an octogenarian billionaire. And none of them once made the plus-size model image smokin' hott, and then -- with the help of TrimSpa ("baby!") and Vicodin -- became about as sexy as a sea sponge. Anna Nicole Smith? Well ... you know.
In blazing trainwreckish glory, the Smith saga has been in our faces for about two months now, unfolding rather sloppily like origami made soggy by gutter congealments. Ever since the 39-year old was found dead in her Hard Rock Hotel & Casino suite on Feb. 8, news sources, magazines and tabloids galore have become engorged from the feeding frenzy. Two months is longer than most would deem necessary to have to be subjected to her story, which is admittedly a very tragic one, especially given how rife the chapters of her life are with unsavory personal details, all just begging to be publicized in poor taste.
The Smith situation is still interesting and darkly amusing enough to spawn the creation of Facebook and MySpace groups dedicated to defending the former playmate's sexiness, refuting her unintelligible media image and accusing pseudo-lover Howard K. Stern of her death. In the latest disturbing chapter, sites such as TMZ.com are now offering a copy of her eight-page autopsy report, headlining, of all things, her anus, which was medically determined to be "unremarkable." The report is uncensored, which produces a rather horrifying read. Unless you like details about incised gluteal abscesses.
Scouring the Internet provides insight into the insanely enduring interest in Smith's life and death. At the Internet Movie Database, forums abound with expressions of pity and disgust. IMDB's newest feature, and one of its most useful, is a rating tool called the STARmeter, which the site describes as an "[indication of the] level of public awareness and/or interest in the person." Since the week of March 26, Smith's STARmeter has risen a whopping 266% -- a percent of increase among the highest recently. Chief among the causes is probably that half of Hollywood's C-list male celebrities have come forward to claim fatherhood to Smith's baby, or that every sleazy late-night Hollywood show now conducts random interviews and reports any "story" thinly related to her.
The Anna Nicole Show, the starlet's E!-produced reality series that traced everything from her accidental bouts of celibacy to her sexually disturbed poodle, has suddenly surged in popularity, fans demanding DVD releases of the comedy show despite its having been cancelled for three years. According to CNN, a movie by Nasser Entertainment is even in the works about Smith's life from ages 17 to 39, which is slated to begin production this month and "could be released as early as June."
So how much more of this can we expect, exactly? It took seven weeks alone for a team of highly trained medical examiners to determine the cause of Smith's death to a point of reasonable certainty. Now that the Smith case is going to trial, with the departed's vindictive mother and eyebrow-raising "boyfriend" set to duel over tangibles like money and estate, we're definitely in for years more of legal proceedings. With luck, none of them will be as circus-like as the battle over Smith's body and final resting place, which was presided over by a male Judge Judy impersonator.
So what do you know, there might be a similarity between Anna Nicole Smith and Ladysmith Black Mambazo after all: for better or worse, no one you know truly cares much about either.
