I've been flexing my supine soothsaying skills to speculate what will happen when Madonna meets her maker?
And I don't mean her trainer, stylist, guru-of-the-day, re-mixer, publicist, photographer or intestinal cleansing intern.
No. Gaze into the crystal ball and reflect.....Madonna.....d-e-a-d.
Now, let me make this clear, this is neither incitement nor an invitation to hasten the departure of the world's most insipid cultural appropriator - the megalomaniacal marketing machine that slithered forth from the muck and goo of original Ciccone sin.
Trifling as she is, there is no earthly justification to emotionally harm (any further) her duly purchased and dually delivered children.
Still, you have to face it, she will leave this earthly plane someday.
And what the hell is going to happen then?
And for those of us who thrive in this (ahem) marketplace of ideas -- I think we should begin looking forward to Madonna's eventual demise in a realistic manner, rather than looking back to Sean and Madonna in happier times.
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Quick Side Note.
Picture it: 2019.
Madge and Mr. Penn, reunited - like Luke and Laura, y'all.
Gen X's Paul & Joanne have finally found love at last!
Dream it and make it true.....
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Anyway - this business venture that is Madonna.com must go on, mustn't it?
Like, forever?
And who will run Madonna, Inc. once she's in the ground -- or, as I suspect - stolen and secretly enshrined in Anderson Cooper's Miro-inspired dungeon/play room and scrap-booking salon?
Seriously, though, the death of a celebrity must have huge financial implications for those whose individual identities are unashamedly and inextricably interlinked with their corporate monikers.
Oprah, Martha, Donald, Reeeeege and even Rosie (reluctantly) pop to mind.
So does Paris, but I hope she flees the country or is reprieved, lest she turn diamond-encrusted platinum shanks into 2007's must-have Christmas purchase.
The lines at Wal-Mart, just imagine!
But when one considers the mega-multi-cultural and financial influence of these personalities, how can one not speculate on the posthumous reincarnation of America's most important people!?!
Will Madonna, Inc. eventually hold auditions for a new Madonna?
She's always reinvented herself...but as someone else altogether?
I have to believe that is why Oprah and Madonna have started schools and spiritual centers in Africa. They are, no doubt, siring complaint corporate-protecting progeny at the Harpo Hogwarts. These children can recite Kabbalah memory verses, provide analysis of overnight Nielsen ratings, litigate challenges in intellectual property disputes, keep Rocco in line, etc.
What fate awaits the school children instructed in all things Madonna and Oprah? Do the laptop screens flicker alive each morning with messages instructing the younglings on how to build, manage and maintain the eponymous?
Is that your eponymous or my eponymous?
Nevertheless, missives from M and O, are now reaching dozens of eager, young, starving and tremendously grateful teenagers. Today's lesson: building a book club, hiring a ghost-writer, hood-winking the gays, pretending to sing (Madonna), learning to sing (Madonna and Oprah, for that matter) and acting indignant when anyone asserts you're interfering with the primal forces of nature capitalism?
Who knows? Maybe little Lola will one day take the helm and cackle malignantly as she takes the profits from Madonna Merlot and funds Barbara Bush II's successful bid for the presidency.
It could happen.
Speaking of Queens
Which we're not -- it's more like namesakes -- I have to admit that I'm terribly saddened that unlike the millions of Americans who were instructed last week ad nauseam on how to behave when they met the majestical Queen Elizabeth, that I did not.
To clairify: meet her, take instruction, or behave.
Please feign some shock -- I'm vulnerable and easily wounded by honesty.
But tell me, did she look at you, as only a mother could, and say, "Here's you one chance, Fancy, don't let me down?"
Mmmmmhmmmm.
For my derby day adventure, I simply stuck her highness in my hat and ate some macaroni.
God Bless the Swedes
And finally, the country that brought us Ikea and Abba has produced a glossy magazine retelling the stories of The Old Testament in fabulous, fashionable four-color format.
The magazine, The Book: The Bible Illuminated, utilizes numerous contemporary images - smoggy cities, soused socialites - to give the old book a new feel.
One that feels like we're still going to hell - but I digress.
You can learn more here if you know Swedish - and if you don't, English info is here.
Please note: the cover image does not feature Adam and Steve, much to the chagrin of fundamentalists and the disappointment of homosexuals.
Oh. And Madonna.
There are more images below, but to the right is the Jonah and the Whale spread -- one part allegory, one part American Eagle, one part where's the ambergris?
Oh, Clara Peller - if only you'd had a school named after you!
The English translation is coming soon, as is the New Testament version later on this summer.
That, of course, begs next's week trifling question:
What will Jesus wear?
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