Since Celine is the new Streisand, she will at some point have to channel all of her massive selfness into film heroism; perhaps after her mini-retirement, after she's birthed something and found actual motherhood wanting in terms of attention paid to her. HBO will have her do some kind of incredibly moving portrait as the brave Mom of the fatally ill adorable child whom nobody understands. She’ll have to clutch the blanket over the child’s head while shouting into the schoolyard, “Can’t you see he’s hungry for knowledge?!” And everyone will think she’s an incredible actress because she can make her big glassy squirrel eyes shed liquid on cue. It will be a big, big, deal for everyone when she and the kindly doctor Make Love, and her exhaustively squeezed hair falls down and everyone gets a real good look at her naked, whippet-like spine. It will be a thrill that rivals when we finally saw Streisand’s boobies in Yentl. Naturally, she’ll have to sing a little. Maybe she can sing a Celine Dion song at a karaoke bar, which would be some kind of unforeseen postmodern coup of I’m not sure what proportions.
When she accepts the Emmy award, her aged unsmiling dungeonmaster of a husband will be remote-controlling her arm movements from the audience with a small steering wheel. When she gets back home to Canada, he’ll reward her by letting her jump for a nice three-pack of fresh nylons. Then she’ll retreat to her little haystack in the parking lot for her five-hour rest. I can see her later, on Xmas, her favorite holiday, at the golf course she bought for her Master, secretly running away, away from the family and friends and snowmobiles, to go to a secluded section of her expansive estate among the trees, to shriek and growl and bare her razor-sharp teeth and ravenously eat bark and rub up against things. Once a year she is free as a chinchilla, away from all the horrible responsibilities of being ubiquitous, of being Mommy. Then her husband’s henchmen will find her and drag her on luggage hooks behind the sled, back to the recording studio. And she will be glad – so, so, glad.
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