I'm not sure why people find joy in reading celebrity magazines. Maybe "joy" is too strong a word. I'm not judging here, if I find an US Weekly in the back of my airplane seat, I'll flip through it. Actually, I'll read it cover to cover, which only takes about 10 minutes (with time for a snack in the middle). I suppose there's something to be said for seeing unflattering photos of people who you normally see looking perfect in movies. There's something, and it's not joy exactly, redeeming in seeing them struggle to fold up their strollers or fall down the stairs at a Burger King. It's knowing that with all the fame and easy money comes these tiny bits of public humiliation. It puts them on a (slightly more) level playing field.
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