The Michael Jackson Saga has now reigned o'er the land for precisely 40 days and 40 nights. But it's already pretty clear that its freshness date has, alas, just about expired (according to my unofficial Tabloidy Overkill Buzz-O-Meter). And nothing can take its place.
We now are left to wonder: what will become of TMZ? Of Perez? Of Hollywood Slime All the Time and Oh Michael We Love You Forever and Ever?
Perhaps most pressing of all, what will become of us?
C'mon, admit it. You know you're feeling it. Even the Globe is running the stories on Page 5. The blog headline type has shrunk to 12-point. The Jackson death ordeal has ceased to be top of mind or top of page. It's all over but the threats from lawyers, and we already get our fill of legalese every hour from one of the 17,847 daily permutations of "Law & Order" (including the fledgling "Special Celebrities Unit").
The warning seems clear: Ready or not, we had best brace ourselves for the Jackson tale's eventual -- perhaps imminent -- disappearance altogether.
Yes, it's true there was big news again Monday in Jacksonville. Katherine got custody! But its shelf life may not survive the hour. This is, after all, not to be confused with "Katherine Wants Custody," "Katherine Soon to Get Custody," "Katherine Has Custody Already" and "Debbie Rowe Doesn't Want Custody."
In the world of stop-the-presses news, this one ranks right up there with "Obama Still Born in U.S."
As the Jacko rug is prepped to be pulled out from under us, how are we to waste all of our newfound free time? Just when we had grown so accustomed to substituting the Jackson players' Shakespearean lives for our own, we're callously, jarringly made to return to a collective mundane existence.
We can anticipate days soon bereft of Marlon and Tito, of Jackie and Jermaine, of Janet and LaToya, of "That's My Dough" Joe and Katherine, of Debbie "Skid" Rowe, Dr. Arnold Klein, the three little Mikes and of course America's favorite new whipping post, "Dr." Conrad "Raid Man" Murray.
That's not to mention Larry King, the honorary "Sixth Jackson."
I can't be alone in feeling that a Michaelholics Anonymous organization need be established pronto to help deal with the coming Jackson withdrawal in 12 simple steps, something that's appropriately flail-safe and naturally headquartered in Encino. (Step 3: "We made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of someone besides Michael." Step 4: "Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of our record and CD collections.")
The thing to keep in mind, however, during our time of recreational bewilderment and anguish is that the deep feelings of emptiness will subside with time. We will come to be stunningly preoccupied by other celebrity stories with little or no direct impact on our daily lives.
