“What is Paris Hilton but a cloud of pastel ectoplasm, its molecules barely sticky enough to hold form?”

Guy Trebey – Feb. 22^nd 2007

Paris Hilton is an elephant made up entirely of sticks. Matchsticks stand on end all around her, and she stands on them without breaking their thin strands. A dismembered stereo hangs at her throat, two black disks of speakers pointing upward. Dangling on long thin wires are a tape deck, a bank of push-buttons and eight D batteries shoved into a plastic case. Paris Hilton has no thumbs, so the tape deck is never on. Time bends away from Paris Hilton giving her twenty feet in diameter from the closest person to her. She walks forward in space through time never leaving her bubble of matchsticks to walk on. Being about twenty minutes in the past and in the future Paris Hilton sees her life occur before it happens, and also experiences events after we see them- making it appear as if she does not care about anything that is happening. Lumbering forward incessantly the elephant of sticks is careful enough not to stop and stumble upon reality, instinctively stubborn and ahead of us all. Durezza.