As I passed through the turnstile at the 49th street subway station this morning on the way to my cubicle, I noticed a magazine cover at the newstand. It jumped out at me. A glistening, nubile young woman in a tiny bikini, straddling a massive telescope. Yes, 'Modern Astronomer' magazine had finally stooped to new lows. Even 'Ancient Astronomer' magazine had followed suit, featuring a sexy woman lying among massive stone obelisks that had been arranged to chart the progress of The Night's Pale Eye and its warmth-bringing sister, The Big Juicy Sky Orange. Anyhow, if there's a point to be made, here, and a more lucid person probably could make one, it's that the concept of "the hot chick" as a means of grabbing attention is rapidly going the way of the Beakless Nutcraver (an extinct finch woefully underequipped to consume the one thing it could subsist on). I would hate to be a 20-something hot young actress in Hollywood. No matter how talented I was, I would inevitably be coaxed into a bikini and onto the cover of some shitty manrag in order to glean a moment's publicity. However, said covershot would undoubtedly knock me down a peg in terms of being regarded as a serious actress. Oh dilemma. I can't wait for 'Oscar Winner DP Shots' magazine.

*A Genesis song from 1974! YEAH!