I find I've grown really weary of constantly hearing the woman's name, yet I'm evidently guilty of being obsessed with her. Oakie doakie...if she's the new Madonna, then where's the pointy bras and tedious faux-lesbo posturing? Look, Teabagsters, if that's your preferred standard bearer, your venerated new Sybil...then (to butcher some esoteric tv dialog) then the candle's lit, and the meal's been cooked. Bona petit. Don't forget the Kaopectate.

When exactly did we stop being a serious nation? Can everything be simply reduced down to purile branding?