Here’s a modest proposal: Let’s flush Paris Hilton into oblivion.  A beautiful, crazy, dream?  I don’t think so. This can work. Let me explain. No turd is so big that it won’t flush. A little stool softener, and Paris will swirl quietly out of our lives. I promise. Ridding ourselves of the world’s most celebrated fellator is going to be much easier than it sounds. Didn’t Monica Lewinsky simply go away?

To hasten this eventuality, here is Step One: Ignore her.  That ‘s right:  Just tune her out. If she turns up on Larry King, or on E!, or opposite Barbara Walters, or as Greta Van Susteren’s topic du jour, change the channel. When these shameless, unmitigated feces-peddlers feature Paris Hilton, they aren’t even pandering to the lowest common denominator, since, as far as a disinterested observer could tell, there is little or no grassroots demand for Paris Hilton.

Food for 20 Trillion Flies

This statement may seem paradoxical, especially considering H.L. Mencken’s time-tested dictum that no one ever went broke underestimating the taste of the American public. In this instance, however, as word of  Paris Hilton’s latest, worthless exploits continues to spew from all media outlets no matter what she does, it would seem that the panderers have indeed finally underestimated popular taste.  Moreover, in their overweening eagerness to sink to the level of paparazzi, it is as though the news media had sought to validate that dubious T-shirt graffito, “Eat s**t !  Twenty trillion flies can’t be wrong.”

Although I cannot prove that the demand for gossip about Paris Hilton is almost non-existent, I can feel it in my bones. Is there anyone among us who actually knows someone who wishes for more “news” and images of the woman? I can’t imagine that such a person exists. In fact, I don’t know a single soul who wouldn’t be thrilled, or at least grateful, to have Paris Hilton gone forever.  My guess is that there are at least thirty or forty million Americans who, like me, have had about enough of Paris Hilton to puke.

Stop Delivery!

Which brings me to Step Two, a way to bring the garbage-peddlers to their senses. Here’s what you can do:  If a picture or item about Paris Hilton turns up in the newspaper that you have delivered to your door each day, call the paper and have them suspend delivery for a week. As a shot across the bow, let me propose that Americans get in synch by stopping delivery for a week. To allow time for this idea to gestate, let's make it the week beginning Sunday, July 8.  If you feel that you can’t go without a morning paper for that long, then suspend delivery for a day or two. Every little bit will help.

If this idea appeals to you, please spread the word by e-mailing my commentary to three friends.  With relatively little effort, this can work!