There's a story on Michelle Phillips in next month's Vanity Fair. Whoaaa, check the pits, right? It's one of those stories about a the brief sparkling moment in pop music history that never again happen because blah blah blah Boomer greed/narcissism/internet that you already watched on Behind the Music, plus everything that has happened in the intervening years. (Namely: Cass is still dead but Michelle is no longer running around town banging everyone's boyfriends, despite looking creepily well-preserved for someone who is supposedly not an agent of Satan.) Anyway, needless to say I haven't finished the story, but judging from a FASCINATING IMAGE on page 175 I can visually tell you everything that happened in the intervening years: the nation reacted to the the sixties in a horrible, kneejerk, everything-jerk way, with often disastrous results.

ACK! Yes, it's Chris Hitchens, biting our friend Benny and getting his hair yanked off as part of his neverending makeover series we are alternately amused/deeply saddened by. He writes: "I had no idea it would be so excruciating. The combined effect was like being tortured for information that you do not possess, with intervals for a (incidentally very costly) sandpaper handjob."

And while we'd sort of avoided covering the descent of one of the country's shrewdest intellects into makeover self-promotional hell, this pretty much totally redeems him. I just hope you're listening, America, because the message is loud and clear: we're a nation that's GONE TOO FAR.