I first found Hiltron on myspace, due to the fact we share a passion for the wacky world of 14's Gallery of the Absurd. I was immediately attracted to Hiltron's darkly humorous, satirical photographic manipulations.

The subject matter: the vacuity of modern-day celebrity worship in our culture, of which Paris Hilton, mafia daughter, porn tramp, of the freakish bone structure, lazy eye, and bizarre body-part proportions, is the alpha and omega.

We are in the middle of five constitutional crises—there is only one reason the citizenry has not stormed Washington D.C. and the White House to run the homosexual Republican crime syndicate out of town—but the networks are all Anna Nicole, all Paris, all the time. (Hint: that's the reason.)

And now Hiltron has launched Hiltron's own site, Planet Hiltron.

This one killed me. Anyone who has read any part of this site will know I am often lost in the music and culture of my youth. I mean, look at that collection of losers. P-Diddy? I must say I respect the man for making a fortune recycling rock songs from the seventies and eighties, laying some lame-ass nursery-rhyme chorus over the beat. Go Diddy. The Olsen Freaks? The vagina travelogue girls ... Britney, Lindsey, and Paris?

Fools rush in ... 

(Be sure to click on the pop-up so you can study Hiltron's fine work.) 

Ditto my JFK obsession.

And I like Hiltron's politics, too.

Planet Hiltron.

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