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The Bimbo’s Day in Court
 Neither
of them could have imagined their romance
leading to an eventual appearance before the U.S. Supreme Court. But as
Shakespeare says, “Who can control his fate?”
It was love at first sight. He, J.
Howard Marshall, was an 89-year old Texas multibillionaire, or polybillionaire,
recently widowed; she, Anna Nicole Smith, was a voluptuous-and-then-some
stripper basking in his admiration. And as Woody
Allen  has
said, “The heart wants what it wants.”
He murmured the magic words:
“Me Dante, you Beatrice.” Soon — perhaps inevitably
— they were united in holy wedlock. A year later, Mr. Marshall was a
goner. He may have expired blissfully, like one of those amorous Australian
spiders who, though fully realizing that his first love must end in his being
devoured by the object of his passion, nevertheless says, “What the
heck. You only live once anyway.”
Today, 11 years later, the widow
Marshall, still in the full bloom of bimbohood, is contesting her late
husband’s will, which, she says, he had promised to change before the
Grim Reaper did its stuff. But since she has no witnesses to corroborate her
version, lower courts have upheld the will, which leaves his fortune to his
son, E. Pierce Marshall.
So the younger Marshall, age 67,
must try to portray the 38-year-old plaintiff as his wicked stepmother,
which may be quite a trick. Mrs. Marshall bears little superficial resemblance
to any wicked stepmother I know of.
Though she was once a Playmate
of the Year, I first saw her in a movie, fully clothed. Or as close to fully
clothed as she usually gets. Even so, she was quite an eyeful. (One of her
costars was O.J. Simpson, so we can probably rule out a sequel.)
If you think you have successfully
shielded your son from deplorable cultural influences, ask him if the name
Anna Nicole Smith rings a bell and just watch his reaction. Probably
only the Pope could answer with an honest “No.” We are talking,
after all, about the Jayne Mansfield of this generation.
I have no dog, or bitch, in this
fight, and I am trying to be strictly impartial. Marshall has a strong legal
case, but his stepmother can pose two commonsense questions, both of
which will be hard to rebut: Why do you think the old man married her,
anyway? And why do you think she married him, anyway?
![[Breaker quote for The Bimbo's Day in Court: The appeal of Anna Nicole Smith]](2006breakers/060302.gif) Refreshingly,
the widow has spared us
that tedious cliché, “It’s not about the money.”
Not to make light of her bereavement, but this is one fully focused bimbo.
Even at the advanced age of 38, in her widow’s weeds, she appears
more than a match for any bimbo in my (very, very) limited experience. And
the Washington Post reports that she also has “a
powerful backer”: President Bush. I don’t follow his reasoning,
if any, but there it is.
Now it’s up to the Court.
Yes, a Texas probate court has already ruled against her, but it may be hard
for the justices, eight of whom are male, to give due weight to the principle
of stare decisis, and the image of Justice as a blindfolded woman seems
singularly inapt here. The smart money is on an 8-to-1 ruling, depending on
the sexual orientation of some of the liberals. (You know who you are.)
The case has already been
described as “historic.” And so it is. This will be the first time
millions of Americans have ever seen Anna Nicole Smith fully clothed.
It’s easy, and irresistible,
to joke about her. With all that makeup and the Texas Republican hairdo, she
looks like a caricature, a female impersonator’s idea of feminine
pulchritude. As Dolly Parton used to ask, “Do you realize how much it
costs to look this cheap?”
But photographed without much
makeup and with her honey-blonde hair straight, Anna is just a startlingly
pretty woman, almost innocent-looking. Why would she think she can improve
on her natural beauty with the disguise of artifice?
That’s a question many
women should ask themselves. Didn’t God make you beautiful enough?
I can only pity the ones who think they need lots of lipstick, mascara,
silicone, and other extravagant trappings of bimbosity to enhance what
nature makes so well. Look your best — as long as you still look like
yourself! That’s what I say, and I’ll bet most men would agree
with me.
But if you want a man who loves
silicone, I’m afraid that’s probably the man you’ll wind up
getting.
Joseph Sobran |
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| Copyright © 2006 by the
Griffin Internet Syndicate, a division of Griffin Communications This column may not be reprinted in print or Internet publications without express permission of Griffin Internet Syndicate 
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