Everyone is talking about the E! channel’s latest contribution to the seedy underbelly that is reality television programming – The Anna Nicole Show. Not to be left out, I checked out the program for myself this week, and was shocked by what I saw.

Yes, Anna Nicole is big, and yes, Anna Nicole is a mess. I think however that she is still very beautiful, and now that she’s a self-declared “big-boned girl” with her own television show, maybe there is hope that our culture could move away from the ectomorph-worshipping we find ourselves guilty of today. Maybe large-bodied women can be revered and emulated in art again as they were in Rubenesque paintings. If that indeed were to happen, then we could say that something, anything came out of this embarrassment of a show. Something, that is, besides discomfort in its viewers and ultimately Anna’s teenage son, who must be returning to school shortly, the poor, unfortunate soul.

On one hand you can say that Anna’s weight gain has its companion health threats, but so do the lifestyles that some models embrace in order to be a size 2 (they don’t call them “heroin chic” for nothing.) Although I must admit that Anna Nicole’s drug abuse – and clearly it’s there – is of genuine concern to me, especially since she seems unable to clean herself up, even with the television cameras rolling. Over the weekend Jen and I, along with the rest of the viewing public, I would imagine, made guesses to what on earth she is on. Painkillers, prescription downers, yet something to keep her moving (cocaine?) are among our ideas. Lots of booze, Jen thinks, even though I pointed out her lipstick is never smeared from excessive drinking. I postulated that she’d snorted some ether, thinking back to some of the wacky shit Hunter S. Thompson used to dabble in. Whatever it is, I feel bad watching it, as if I recognize someone needs help yet there’s nothing I can do to help them.

Anna Nicole’s fragile state (which consists of her bumbling around, followed by a motley crew of people whose sole purpose seems to be making sure she doesn’t fall on her face), in addition to the obvious and sudden weight gain and her slurred and disconnected speech, remind me of Elvis Presley’s final concerts that I watched on television as a girl. In his white sequined jump suit with a 30-piece orchestra supporting him, the King, severely bloated and obviously confused, stumbled through his lyrics and poured sweat like a… well, like a drug addict. He died not too long thereafter, which is why if Anna Nicole is in even half the trouble Elvis was in, it seems unethical of E! to exploit her situation. I’m not saying death is knocking at her door, but I am saying the woman has clearly fallen on some hard times. During one of her muffled speeches, Anna lamented the fact that the news is always covering situations “where shit happens and you die.” When she pointed out that the real hell is in the lives of people “where shit happens and you live,” I realized how unhappy this woman really is. Cindy Adams may have summed it up best – Anna Nicole needs a guardian. Not a television show. If no one's willing to stop it, the least I can do is stop watching.